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billskeis · 2 months

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HEASIAIZIA HAI

CAN YOU MAKE LIKE BILL BEING A POLICE OFFICER AND THE READER DOING SOME STUFF THAT COULD GET HER IN JAIL BUT LIKE ok LISTEN she does the "everybody knows that im a good girl officer" thing (song by Lana del rey playing dangerous) and he lets her go but like the next day they meet again and go on a date and HOOKUP but he punishes her for doing that stuff (perhaps if it could be spraying on like stores if you get me) like punishes her not letting her release TYING HER WITH THE HANDCUFFS UGHHHHahhshshsHAJDSJS

ᡣ𐭩 police officer bill

police lights flash behind as you attempt to catch your breath in an alleyway. on the run, you’re currently hiding from the police as they’ve caught onto you and a couple of fiends vandalizing public buildings with vulgar graffitis.

as you hide your body behind a garbage chute, you kneel down to make yourself less known to the open world.

shouts boom across the street seeming as though a few of the cops have already caught onto your other friends.

bless the heavens that you weren’t caught.. yet.

“haah.. phew..! i think, i think i made it out alive!” speaking to yourself as somebody else was there.

“i don’t exactly think so, schatz.”

“oh sh—”

in your feeble escape, you try to make a run for it until a pair of arms latch onto your shoulders and push your body up against theirs.

“fuck! ow..”

“you really thought that you could get away..?”

you turn to look at the body that’s pressed up against yours. he was tall, and really pretty, actually you wondered why he didn’t just work as a model instead of being a police officer.

black locs adorned his face, with an eyebrow piercing accompanying his right, are they allowed to wear those on duty?

whatever, it makes him look hot.

“well.. i’ve been such a good girl officer.”

“my ass, you’ve been vandalizing the streets and these buildings for weeks and you know it.”

“it adds a little.. character! what can i say, this city could use a little colour to it.”

“as much as i love art, princess, what you’re doing is ILLEGAL.”

“no, what’s illegal is how hard you have this gun pressed into my backside, it hurts.”

“..?”

“um hello?? officer—”

you turn to find his name tag attached to the right side of his uniform. bill. officer bill.

“officer bill, can you at least move your gun to—i don’t know—the side more??”

“oh my sweet little thing.. that isn’t a gun.”

…

“oh.”

your eyes meet his, dark brown irises highlighted in the sunny light, his lips curled into a downward smile although his voice stern. it seems as though this police officer enjoys having you up against him.

you feel a rush of heat go to your cheeks, so you turn your body around. embarrassed, why? fuck if you’d know..

well maybe it’s the fact that the officer that currently has you captive in the back of an alleyway is not only super fucking gorgeous but he’s PACKING.

“i.. i—”

“i’m going to let you go.”

he releases his grip on you and you turn your full body to meet him once more, truly relishing in how tall and slim fit his figure is built. you have to look up at him to make eye contact.

“although under one condition,”

“and that is?”

“you go on a date with me,”

“fuck no. i’d rather be caught dead than go on a date with a police officer.”

truth be told, you did wanna go on this date, but your stubborn nature wouldn’t allow you to say yes so easily. you really wanted to test the waters and see how persistent bill was in getting that date.

“fine then, i am obligated to then turn you in.”

“waitwaitwait nevermind i’ll go on that date with you.”

fuck yourself for being this easy..

this little shit, how dare he pull the authority card on you after you had done something illegal and he do his job?? his face once emotionless now held a smirk on his lips before he slipped you a small paper.

“good girl. now stay here for a little longer, i’ll let the others know i couldn’t find you.“

“..kay, but i’m expecting a lot from you just so y’know..”

you wave him off goodbye as you see his figure disappear from away the alleyway. hearing voices chatter, you can only assume he came up with an excuse to let you off the hook in exchange for a date with you.

“oh trust me princess, i will exceed those expectations.”

“i—um..”

“use your words f’me princess,”

“how is this a date!?”

you’re currently on his bed, the tight little number that you wore is currently riding up your thighs as you clench them together.

prior to this, bill took you out to a restaurant that was AMAZING, and insisted that you go back to his house to drink a bit more.

to your naivety, bill had other intentions underlying his silver tongue words.

with your cunt hovering right above the tip of his dick, you cannot find the words to speak. how is this even possible?? how dumb could you be to sleep with a cop?? stupid stupid y/n.

with each hand on the side of your waist, the soft pads of bill’s fingertips graze over your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“you’re leaking onto me schatzi, sure you don’t want this?”

“shut up..”

with a harsh slam, bill pulls your hips flush to his, bottoming out. you let out a surprised squeak as your walls molds to his shape.

now you’ve had sex before but not with someone this big, the stretch is something you gotta get used to.

if you were to fuck him again.

“you better watch your mouth, maus.”

“f-fuck.. a little warning would be nice, no?”

“hm, nah..”

bill uses his hands to grasp each side of your ass before lifting you up to slide you up and down his length, the stretch burning a bit but it quickly subsides as he makes you ride him.

electricity sparks from within your body and you feel your stomach starting to clench. every time he brings your butt down to touch his thigh your clit rubs his abdomen momentarily.

with your orgasm coming close, you don’t even care about the noises that fall out of your mouth. you sound like a total slut. not that bill even cares.

“i-i’m close..”

he stops.

“bill..!”

“i don’t think you deserve to come yet.”

you grind your hips in circles in an attempts to release but he brings a hand to spank your ass.

“o-ow..”

“gimme a reason to let you release, hm? you been acting up for weeks, plus the multiple warnings the force has given you just hasn’t stopped you from committing crimes has it..?”

you bite your lip in a remains of silence. no way in hell were you going to beg bill to let you come.

he wraps his arms around your waist to bring your torso closer to his, now bringing his mouth to your bare chest to lick a stripe up from in between your breasts.

a moan in approval slips out of bill’s mouth as he then brings his tongue to lick around your right nipple swirling his tongue around it.

he bites on the bud eliciting a wince out of you. your hips still on his, an achy feeling still felt in your cunt as you yearn for more.

“so? what’s it gonna be maus?”

“please..”

“please what?”

“let me come.. bill,”

“okay, but i have another condition for you.”

you cock your head to the side in confusion, wondering what he’s up to now. that is until he releases an arm off you to reach for something on the bedside table.

oh fuck no.

“you kinky shit, handcuffs?”

“it’s apart of my get-up what can i say?”

“n-no.. i’m not wearing those.”

“well then i guess you can’t cum! i can sit and wait here all night baby.”

tears begin to well from your eyes, all you want is the sweet bliss of release and the man who wanted a date with you in the first place clearly isn’t give it to you unless you put your pride aside.

well, fuck it.

you present your wrists pressed together in front of bill, looking around the room in shame. a smirk falling down on his face as he clicks the metal gadget around your limbs now connected with one another.

“good girl.”

again with no warning, bill pistons his hips up into you at a harsh and fast pace. without falter, he keeps his rhythm to which you cannot catch up to.

choking on your words, all you can do is hold onto him for stability, the pressure brought to your g spot by his tip feels amazing.

“b-bill..”

“gonna be good f’me?”

“yes..!”

your legs begin to shake and quiver as your orgasm washes down on you but bill is nowhere near done with you, never stopping his hips.

“shit, looking at how you’re sucking me in..”

“gonna cause more trouble for me and my friends?”

you’re panting so hard and your brain and legs have become so mushy only small whimpers and whines fall out of your mouth. bill clearly isn’t satisfied with your behaviour, biting into your shoulders.

“answer me.”

“ung! n-no! ‘m sorry. hic ‘m so sorry billy i won’t c-cause you anymore trouble just—hic—please slow down..!”

your cunt all sensitive and sloppy, only squelching noises can be heard in bill’s bedroom as be fucks his dick into you. body so sensitive and overstimulated you let him do you as he pleases.

he leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest calling you dirty names but you can’t help but clench around him even more, milking his cock as if its asking for his seed.

your words fall onto deaf ears, clearly, as all bill does is go even faster at an inhumane pace you didn’t even know was possible.

“a-ah.. i can’t.. ‘m done, bill.. no more..”

“almost done baby, okay? just be a good girl for me and let me do the work..”

“a-ah nooo..”

it hurts. the pressure hurts. but its hurts so good.. with a final thrust, bill finally comes, releasing into your walls with his dick all nice and pressed up into your cervix.

“s-shit, coming..”

his moans are low and nasally. mouth agape and hands still on your hips with a grip so tight his nails dig into your skin leaving a trail of red marks.

your tummy feels warm and full, and bill’s thrusts in riding out his orgasm becomes all sloppy and sticky with how wet your cunt was.

you’re a hot mess, hair falling everywhere and body all sweaty. mouth lolled out as your head rest atop bill’s shoulder drool falling out.

he taps your shoulder and you raise your head to look at him, unable to open your eyes with how bill fucked the energy out of you.

“you okay maus?”

“mhm..” you nod at him as he places a sweet and gentle kiss onto your lips. all you can do is blush and smile, taking in how pretty bill is for a cop.

he shifts while still inside you, grabbing a key to unlock the handcuffs that left little marks of bruising on your wrist.

you rub your hands to smooth over the irritation. bill taking note of this swiftly grabs them and places a kiss on top of the marks. your cheeks burn red as he burn a gaze into your eyes, not looking away.

“did so damn good schatz, hope i fucked all that crime committing business outta ya.”

a/n : i hate this. i’m so sorry anon i feel like i disappointed you 😔😔😔

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

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anonymous-dentist · 5 months

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No but guys I've actually cracked the case here on this one.

We know that qCellbit left himself behind in Purgatory and that he's been there since, and we know that qBaghera is there, too. ccBaghera tried getting back online, but the admins basically said "Not yet, it isn't time." So we know that there's something planned regarding the players who chose to stay behind.

Purgatory 2 takes place on the same island the first one did. This was confirmed by ElQuackity when he was talking with Cucurucho the other week, and the poster tonight showed the whole "radioactive" thing, which goes with the fact that Purgatory was fucking nuked at the end last time.

Not everybody died at the end of Purgatory, just qMax. The eggs were all shown to survive, and so were the three new eggs. So were Foolish and Tina and all these other player characters not shown to be on the boat. With Baghera and Cellbit specifically, Baghera tried getting online literally a couple days ago, and Cellbit's ending screen after Purgatory showed that he was still alive because it was his stupid fucking emo lore screen. (Jackass.)

We know that qRoier promised Cellbit over a month ago at this point that, no matter what, he'd go and find Cellbit if he disappeared.

Now, Roier doesn't believe that Cellbit is dead, and he's been working on something in secret that'll supposedly let him make sure if Cellbit's dead or not.

We know that you can legit just swim to and from Purgatory from Quesadilla Island- or, more realistically, you can boat.

Purgatory 2 is for new ccs, but a couple of regular qsmp players are also supposedly taking part. This would probably be the guys who enjoyed it the most, notably possibly including Roier, who really really really liked Purgatory last time but who couldn't really enjoy it as much as he wanted to because he was super sick for most of it. A bunch of his friends might also participate because tournaments like Purgatory are HUGE in the Hispanic community.

Following this logic, I propose the following:

Roier's secret project is a boat that would allow him to sneak away from the Federation and back to Purgatory to look for his husband

Cellbit is alive because he's, whether you like it or not, too important to the island's plot at this point to die at the end of some random event right in the beginning of his own lore

Roier is going to boat to Purgatory to look for Cellbit (or his body), and he's going to get roped into Purgatory 2 because of the sin of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Cellbit will be ridiculously radioactive and probably insane, but what else is new with him?

Cellbit is still on the island. Roier is now on the island.

BOOM!! Spiderbit reunion :D

#spiderbit #guapoduo #I'm obviously right

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gunpowdercarousel · 6 months

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Me, the DM: Alright guys, what're your characters for the new campaign? Remember, we're starting at level one.

Bill: Alright cool yeah no problemo, so I'm like a legendary folk hero guy, right? EVERYBODY knows me. I'm super famous. I'm like the hero of the Sword Coast, I've killed minotaurs, stopped cults, fought devils in the Hells, saved the world countless times, all that jazz. Also my dad's a duke, I'm rich, and there's this really hot demon lady who's my patron.

Me: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuugh-

Carla: Oh! I'll go! So I'm a badass tiefling lady, I've been fighting in the Blood War for a decade, I've killed loads of demons - like SO MANY demons - and also my heart is an infernal engine. So I'm constantly on fire basically and anyone who touches me gets burned to ashes instantly. Like just boom dead. TOASTED.

Me: UUUUUUUUUUGH-

Gabe: Lame. Alright, so check this out. Lemme lay this on ya, right? So you know Mystra, the Goddess of Magic?

Me, visibly terrified: .............uh huh?

Gabe: Heheheheh. Yeah. Uh huh. That's right.

Me: .....What-

Gabe: Fucked her.

Me: UM.

Gabe: Also I'm a nuclear bomb

#and then liz is just like “yeah I'm a fighter and I have a longsword”#for real tho #it's funny that half the party is just like “yeah here's a completely reasonable level 1 character with some slight backstory to work with”#and then the other half's like “i have ten levels worth of backstory and the feats of a hero of legend”#like who in their right mind would look at gale's backstory and go “yeah seems reasonable”#“you're a doomsday device and you've fucked a goddess? sure yeah that works for level 1”#amazing #hilarious #and then lae'zel is literally just Some Gith #astarion's just had a shitty life for 200 years #and shadowheart is just a standard follower of shar #pretty much anyway #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 memes #lae'zel #karlach #gale #gale dekarios #karlach bg3

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waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways · 1 year

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Only the Dead 1

Figured I’d post the first scene of my WIP here.

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10

_____

There’s something wrong.

Bruce wakes up slowly, despite the icy frisson of dread that crawls up his spine. His head hurts. His muscles ache, knotted like stone, to the point where simply shifting position feels like a Herculean task.

There’d been an Arkham breakout again. He’d gone after the Joker -- there’d been a hostage -- and then..?

He can hear voices, murmuring quietly around him on all sides, none of them familiar. He can smell disinfectant, wax, something floral, and a hint of rot underneath it all. A hospital? he wonders, mind sluggish.

“He’s waking up.”

Bruce peels his eyelids open with difficulty; his eyelashes stick together.

It’s not a hospital. It’s a warehouse? Wherever he is, it’s lit dimly, by only candlelight.

“No matter. We are ready to commence with the ritual.”

Bruce rolls his head to the side. He can feel the velvet of an expensive tablecloth underneath his cheek -- he’s on some sort of table -- an altar? Below him he can dark, geometric lines -- a circle, and a diamond within -- and strange symbols drawn around the edges. Above him tower shadowy figures -- people, men and women dressed in dark grey robes, their faces obscured. Batman uses similar scare tactics to frighten criminals, but Bruce still feels frightened at the sight.

He jerks, trying to get upright. Sharp pain blooms in his throat, his wrists and his ankles. He’s tied up -- no, he’s chained and collared, tightly, to the altar.

One of the robed figures approaches him. Her robes are distinct from the others, the seams embroidered with pale silver thread, taking the shapes of cartoon ghosts, of all things. She clicks her tongue at him. “Batman, Bruce Wayne,” she murmurs. “It was a lot of trouble getting you. Don’t think we’ll let you escape.”

Bruce’s heart hammers in his chest as his situation sinks in. He’s trapped, unable to move, kidnapped by a cult he hadn’t even been aware existed.

“Everybody get into position.”

There’s four of them, not counting the vestal. Each of them takes a candle from the corner of the altar, cupping them between their palms. The vestal pulls a knife from her robes. The blade is pitch black, like obsidian, and it gleams in the candlelight.

Bruce squirms, feeling the chains, searching for a weakness. The vestal cards her fingers through his hair as if to calm him. “I am sorry,” she says. “I wouldn’t do this if there was another way. Know that we will honor your sacrifice. The Lord of Screams will follow your footsteps and bring salvation to this wretched city.”

“Don’t do this,” Bruce says.

The vestal tilts her head back and begins to chant. “O king, we beseech you; grace us with your presence.” The other cultists echo her words in Latin. “To you we gift you thus -- an offering of blood to bring you power, an offering of bone to anchor you to this plane -- a life for a life.”

“A life for a life,” the cultists chant.

The vestal lifts her blade, and with both hands, plunges it into Bruce’s chest.

The candle flames flicker out, then return a brilliant Lazarus green.

The vestal pulls her blade back out with a wet squelch and hastily backs out of the circle. The cultists back away at a slow, even pace. The lines of the circle begin to glow that same horrid, beautiful green, and they grow, expanding with each step the cultists take.

Bruce, still struggling, chokes on his own blood. It dribbles out his lips.

The lines of the circle thicken until the entire circle is filled in with that eerie green, and then it begins to swirl. A massive hand pulls itself out of the miasma, and then a flaming crown, a horned helmet, a scowling face. A giant, armored body, barely contained by the warehouse.

“Once again, I am freed,” the being says in a booming voice.

“Lord Phantom,” the vestal says. The glow has intensified enough for Bruce to make out her features -- her glistening eyes, her wide smile. “It really worked. You’re really here...”

“Phantom,” the being says. “Is that who you believe I am?”

“My lord?” the vestal asks, voice small.

“I am not Phantom,” the being spits, face twisting into a rictus of hatred. “I am none other than Pariah Dark, king of the Infinite Realms.”

The last Bruce sees of the vestal is the horror on her face before Pariah Dark slams down his fist, reducing her to a bloody smear. The remaining cultists flee, screaming.

“Cowards,” Pariah Dark sneers. “But they shall be my subjects soon enough.” He turns his gaze towards Bruce, and scoops him up into one of his massive hands, phase shifting him through the chains. “Now you, you must be one of those costumed warriors Phantom emulates so fondly.” He inspects the bat symbol on Bruce’s chest. The blood has spread so much it’s barely recognizable. “But a dying vessel has no use to me.”

With that, Pariah Dark carelessly tosses Bruce to the ground. Bruce shouts in pain, and dark splotches grow in his vision. They do not fade.

“Batman!”

“Dad!”

No. Bruce’s vision is fading quickly, but he can still tell. Nightwing, Red Robin, Batgirl -- his sons, and the girl who is like a daughter to him. They can’t be here.

“Run,” Bruce croaks, but Nightwing still approaches. The other two attack Pariah Dark. trying to distract him. Bruce can’t move, can’t run with them, can’t fight with them, can’t protect them. “Run away!”

Steph screams. Dick reaches Bruce and curls an arm around his shoulders. “We’re not leaving you,” Dick says. He sounds close to tears.

Bruce doesn’t hear him. He is already lost.

#dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc #tw death #only the dead au

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

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Tell Me a Secret | Stiles Stilinski

“Okay, one more. One more.”

Stiles groans as he tosses an arm over his eyes in a playful attempt to hide from your invasive line of questioning. “God, fine. Go.”

“Okay.” You sit up a little higher in bed. “Okay, if Lydia is riding you…and somebody dies…and she screams…I mean…you’re dead, right? Like boom. Face melted and just…dead.”

His arm drops as he rolls his head over to look at you. “Oh…my God—”

“Am I wrong?” you argue. “No, because I was thinking about it—don’t look at me like that—I was thinking because…I mean, even a gag wouldn’t help, right? Cause if she screamed, it would just be…disintegrated. Right?”

He blinks at you, lips dancing with the idea of smiling. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead fucking serious,” you correct, expression firm. “No, honestly, I’ve always wondered this. Because…I mean like, a sex scream is definitely different from a banshee scream, right? ’Cause it only applies to death. And not like, ‘Oh, you murdered this pussy,’ kind of death. But like…dead people death, right?”

He blinks at you, doing his absolute best not to laugh.

“So, if you’re anywhere near her when it happens…and she has to scream—cause she can’t stop it—I mean…like you’d be dead. I mean…right?”

With an amused sigh, he rolls his lips into his mouth. “I don’t know. I guess? We never really…I mean that was never really a problem.”

“Right, right. Cause she was more worried about killing you in a car.” You nod as his eyes roll. “Feel like the sex-scream would be a lot more troubling, but whatever. Okay, next question.”

He groans and flops over onto the other side of the bed.

“So…Malia, right? Like she’s the one that introduced you to bondage, I’m assuming,” you begin, scooting closer despite his protests. “How did that…I mean, how would that have worked exactly? Like were you into tying her up, was she into tying you up…cause I saw the rope and handcuffs, so you can’t tell me that wasn’t a thing—”

Suddenly, just before you can even finish your train of thought, he’s flipping back over and lunging at you.

You have about two seconds to catch your breath before he’s managed to wrangle you onto your back as he straddles your waist.

Instantly, a breath catches in your throat as he smirks down at you, his large hand smoothing up your neck to capture your jaw in his palm.

“Are you done?” he murmurs, slowly dipping down to bring himself closer to you. “Because…I don’t want to think about them right now. In fact, I don’t even want you to think about them. I just want you...to think…about…me.”

The tip of his button nose brushes against yours as your lashes flutter. “I’m just confused…about…the logistics,” you pant faintly as he grins.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says firmly. “Only thing that matters is you. Us.” He leans back to catch your eye. “Yeah?”

You nod quickly.

“Good,” he whispers, head tilting until his lips can ghost over yours, sadistically teasing you with a kiss. “’Cause I’ve got something I wanna show you tomorrow.”

You perk up, fingers mindlessly tangling in his white sleep shirt. “Oh? What?”

Now, he moves to your cheek, mouth trailing along your feverish skin as you swallow a whine. “You always wanted to see Eichen House, yeah?”

Your eyes widen.

“Well, they’re tearing it down in a couple of weeks,” he continues, taking note of your excitement. “Thought we’d give it one last look.”

You gasp as you push on his chest until you can fully see his face. “Wait, really? You’ll take me? Actually?”

Stiles nods, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. Eichen House (and Beacon Hills in general, for that matter) has always been a sore spot between the two of you.

He likes to keep you safe in this part of his life. He likes who he is now.

With you.

And the idea of introducing you to how things used to be...how he used to be...

He was sure you'd never be able to look at him the same.

You'd done your best to assure him that you didn’t care about his life before. Because everybody has a past, and that's not something he can change.

It's nothing something you want him to change.

You love this Stiles. You always will.

He hadn't seemed too convinced before.

But now, well...now it looks like your nagging has finally done you some good.

You throw your arms around his neck to pull him down in a grateful kiss as he exhales a laugh and slides his hand down your side.

“I can’t wait,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his bottom one. “It’s not gonna change anything between us, you know.”

“I know.” He’s quiet. Reluctant, even.

You know how much of himself he has to be fighting just to give this to you.

So, you decide to take his mind off it.

After all, it’s the least you can do.

“And once we’re there, you can show me all the places you and Malia did it,” you add eagerly, and you’re rewarded with the sound of his annoyed groan.

“Oh, that’s it,” he declares, wrapping an arm around your back to roll you both over to the other side of the bed.

And you’re more than okay with that.

Part one, maybe??? Listen, I thought going with them to Eichen House might be kind of funny so 😭

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#dylan #dylan o'brien #stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinksi #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o’brien imagine

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cowgurrrl · 1 month

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The Palace in Flames

Pairing: Javier Peña x CIA!reader

Author's note: okay two things 1) fuck it we ball on this timeline 2) i don't love how this turned out but I need to finish it otherwise I'm gonna stare at it for god knows how long so enjoy anyways

Summary: "I'm not a violet dog. I don't know why I bite." [3.8k]

Warnings: canonical violence and language, alcohol, a little bit of backstory, discussion of PTSD like symptoms, a touch of misogyny, canon events but slightly canon divergent timing i think

There's not a lot you can do at the scene of the car bombing. You and Javi talk to local police and take witness statements from frightened neighbors and anybody else willing to come forward with information while Steve takes pictures. From what you can tell, it looks like it was a crude C4 bomb, one of the easiest to make and detonate. All it takes is the right amount of pressure, and boom. A few unfortunate souls died right beside Jorge as they walked past, unaware of the explosion to come. A hit for one quickly turned into a hit for five.

You're good enough at your job to recognize the fact that Steve and Javi went poking around for information about the person who ratted on you, and then a few hours later, he's dead, not even ten minutes outside of your neighborhood. Medellín is a big place. It could've been a coincidence, but you're almost certain it's not. You really hope you don't have to make good on your promise to return to the US if they go after you again.

You, Javi, and a handful of other police officers finish with the witnesses and join Steve by the truck. All files and statements will need to go through the proper channels tomorrow, and it's too late to do anything else. You'll start fresh in the morning: follow through on the plan to send out CENTRA SPIKE to see what they can find, monitor movement, and stay vigilant. But tonight, you deserve to get a drink with your two self-appointed bodyguards.

The great thing about working at the Embassy is that everyone touts interagency cooperation and work, but in reality, you rarely want to see each other in the same place. DEA will hang out at one specific bar while CIA will go to another. You don't even want to know where soldiers and higher-ups go once the clock hits six o'clock. Every agency thinks another agency is fucking them over or doing their job wrong. Everybody wants a medal for being in Medellín and fighting the narcos and communists but rarely wants to work together. You like to think your agencies have the upper hand with the three of you being friendly and sharing information without going through official, classified paperwork. It's not the most recommended or legal way to go about it. But, you've been able to pass on valuable information Javi let slip in between rounds and shared cigarettes under the guise of a Confidential Informant.

You were friends with Javi first. He came to Colombia around the same time you did, and you worked the same hours. You did him favors, and he returned them. You learned not to ask each other too many questions and to take what you're given and hope it leads somewhere. You've gotten little victories here and there: guerillas extradited, kidnapping victims recovered safely, witnesses given protection and visas in other countries. It was nice to have someone you could rely on and bounce theories off of when the office was empty, and you two were puffing your way through a pack of cigarettes. The lines got blurry about six months in. It happened fast and without warning, and you swore it was a one-time thing. And then it happened again. And again. And again. Then, it just made sense to keep doing what you were doing instead of going through the cycle of fighting about it and giving each other the cold shoulder, only to end up fucking in his apartment before the end of the day.

Steve, however, got stuck with you. When he became Javi's partner, he was forced to know your name and seek you out in the office when he needed something. At first, he wasn't super keen about the idea of having to rely on CIA for things— something to do with that DEA machismo of not needing anything from anyone— and then he realized how good you are at your job. Once you helped them get an especially important collar, he opened up. He told you about the killing of his last partner and a little bit about his career up until this point. He practically begged you to talk to Connie when she started getting homesick and having doubts, and you came to care for her. Now, you're an inseparable trio (quartet if you count the nights Connie makes her way from the communa clinic and into the bar).

You think Noonan knew that when she asked Steve and Javi to join the Colombian police on your recon. Something about friendly faces in an unfriendly territory. She was right. You stuck to Javi the entire ambulance ride to the hospital, and they each took turns at your bedside. Even Connie showed up to take care of you during those long few nights in the hospital. You were less willing to accept help once you were discharged, but Steve would knock on your apartment door every night and leave a covered dish on your doormat while Javi bought you groceries. You owe them a lot, though they'll never let you admit it.

Javi buys the first round to celebrate your reinstatement. He gives a brief, flattering toast to your work, and you roll your eyes but clink your glasses together anyway. You avoid talking about theories and leads in the bar, even though you probably could talk about those things in English and get away with it. Everybody already knows you work for the American Embassy. No reason to give anybody anything to report back. Instead, you talk about stupid things like Steve being unable to speak Spanish.

"I can understand a little," he tries to defend himself, and you and Javi share a knowing look. He definitely doesn't understand enough to quantify it as a little. He might pick up every tenth word and know enough commands to dole them out when he's in the field, but that southern accent anglicizes every single syllable he utters. "Alright, y'all can go fuck yourselves." He says at your silence, making you laugh.

"Don't worry about it, Murphy. Couple more years and you'll be running circles around Javi."

"I don't know about all that, but she's right. You'll get better," Javi takes a sip of his drink. "Eventually."

Over two more rounds, you talk about things back home, tell stupid stories, and whatever else you could think of. It's nice to see Steve and Javi acting like they kinda like each other outside of work. Lord knows they're at each other's throats most of the time. You enjoy hanging out with them, and even though you know you can handle yourself, you like feeling protected by them. Years of CIA training and undercover work don't mean shit when all people see is a woman alone at night.

"Alright, I've gotta get home," Steve says as he drinks the rest of his whiskey and puts his cigarette out. He probably should've been home hours ago, but that's none of your business.

"Tell Connie I said hi." You say, and he smiles, nodding and mumbling a quiet "yes, ma'am." He loves her so much, even just the mention of her makes him light up. Your thought from earlier creeps up. A good man. And yet he's here, doing the same shit you and Javi are. It's a little funny how squeamish he still is about things, but you figure that's the last sign of his humanity. God, please let that linger for as long as possible. Javi takes a drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face.

"Yeah, give her a kiss for me." He says. Before Steve can even open his mouth, you smack the back of Javi's head and groan.

"Ay, Javier," you scold. "Malo, malo, malo." Javi smiles, a rare sight reserved for moments like this, as Steve bids you goodnight again and leaves the bar. The second he's out of sight, you reach over, snatch the cigarette from Javi's hands, and bring it to your lips.

"Get your own," he grumbles, but there's no heat behind it. You roll your eyes and exhale.

"Stealing from you is so much cheaper, though," you shrug as you hand it back to him. "You think he got suspicious when we showed up at the same time?"

"We live down the road from each other and got the call around the same time. Even if he figured it out, he wouldn't say anything. Plus, I think your little attitude at work throws him off." He says, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

"My little attitude?" You ask. You know he said it just to piss you off, and you hate that it's working. He smirks and you shove his shoulder, stealing the cigarette back from him. "Pinche cabrón." You mumble, and he laughs. He gets a new cigarette from his pack and lights up. A comfortable silence falls over you as you sit there, his hand finding a home on your thigh under the table.

"So, how're you doing?" Javi asks, seemingly out of nowhere. You shrug and ash your cigarette into the half-full tray in front of you.

"'M fine." You say, and he hums. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and glances around like he's looking for something you can't see. He blows smoke away from you and leans in.

"So, waking up screaming is fine for you?" He asks. You didn't want to talk about it when you woke up, and you especially don't want to talk about it now. You poke your tongue into your cheek in annoyance.

"If you thought I wasn't okay, why'd you push for Noonan to clear me?"

"I didn't say I didn't think you're okay."

"Then, drop it."

"Look, I know you wanna go all in again, but maybe you should take it slow—at least for a little while," he says, and you scoff.

"Give me a fuckin' break, Javi. Did you take it slow when you got shot?" You ask.

"Getting shot and getting kidnapped are two completely different things."

"And yet we both survived," you say, gesturing between you as proof of your survival. "The doctors wouldn't have cleared me to come back if they didn't think I was ready."

"Yeah? How much you pay 'em off for that signature?" He asks. You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek. You're not going to dignify him with a response but you so easily could. "C'mon, just... let your feet get wet again. Everyone knows you've already got the lay of the land, but they don't know that you won't freak the fuck out once you're fully back in the field. I think some of them are waitin' for it," he says. It would explain why everyone's treating you like you're a time bomb. "If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it because I'm asking you."

"And are you asking me as a coworker or a friend?" You ask. He's staring at you in his weird Javi way: hardened brown eyes softening just enough to bring your guard down. It's not something he learned from years at the Academy or in the field. That's all him.

"Would it make a difference?" He asks quietly. Answering a question with a question. What a cop.

"Not really." You say, and he sighs. He scrubs a hand down his face and picks up his drink, a cigarette lingering between his fingers.

"I'm asking as someone who saw what they did to you." He says before taking a big gulp of whiskey. You haven't talked about it. Not about what he saw and knew before finding you or what exactly happened in that room over those few days. You spent hours upon hours repeating the story for doctors, depositions, agency paperwork, and even to the court-appointed psychiatrist who had to screen you before they could even let you back in the building. So, you weren't necessarily gunning for the opportunity to repeat it again when Javi asked you about it. There are only so many sympathetic looks and half-hearted reassurances one person can take.

Even though you relied on him to tether you back to earth during those first few days, he took the brunt of your emotions. You refused to answer his questions and pushed him away. "I'm just trying to help," he told you when he tried to take care of you. "Where was your fucking help when they grabbed me from the street, huh?" You snapped, exhausted and sore and a little out of your mind. It was mean and unfair. You know how hard everyone worked to find you. You know how he blames himself. You know how scared they were to find your body.

When he puts his empty glass down, you look at him and nod. You can't take back what you said, but you can soften it a little. You put your hand over his and trace the contours of his knuckles. They're a little bruised and cracked, but still a part of him. You take a deep breath and rub your thumb against his skin.

"Okay," you concede quietly. "I'll slow down for a little while, but the second we have good intel, I'm all in again." He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes your thigh.

"Thank you." He mumbles. To anyone walking by, you two would look like a couple having a drink after a long day of work before going to your shared home and sleeping it off. You indulge in the thought for a second longer than you meant to before you retract your hand and reach for your drink.

"You're gettin' soft on me, Peña." You accuse, and he chuckles.

"God forbid I wanna see you make it outta here alive." He says, and you hum as you finish the rest of your drink. His eyes stick to the corner of your lips where a few drops of tequila spilled, his thumb twitching as he stops himself from wiping them away. "What're you doing for the rest of the night?" He asks. It's an opening. An invitation to finish what he started earlier. What happened with Alemán earlier in the day must've wound him up, made him tense and in need of release. Unfortunately for him, there are few things you like more than making him sweat.

"Well, I've got a dinner I need to pack away in the fridge and dishes to clean."

"I can help."

"I don't think you can," you say as you stand and grab your jacket from the back of your chair. "Besides, I'm supposed to be taking it easy. I should probably get some rest before my first actual day back, right?" He rolls his eyes as you throw a couple of bills down on the table for your share of the drinks, and you smirk. "I'll let you walk me home, though."

"You'll let me?" He asks, but he's already standing and pulling his own jacket over his shoulder. Like clockwork, you think.

"Figured it's the least I could do." You say, and he scoffs, swatting at your ass when he passes behind you.

"Vámonos princesa."

You get a warm welcome back to the office by immediately getting thrown into the chaos of the CIA. A corkboard with all known names of M-19 and other communist group members looks like a serial killer's wet dream with all the notes and grainy photos that stare you down as you talk about recent developments in the jungle. Honestly, you don't care what a group of kids are doing or planning to do, but everyone else in the CIA seems to think it's the most pressing matter.

Despite what the Agency and Reagan want you to believe, you know communists are not the most dangerous group in Colombia right now. Narcos are practically running the country and ruining countless lives with their rampant murder and exploitation. So even though Lou wants to sink a billion dollars of American taxpayer money into fighting guerillas in the jungle, you have one eye on the situation with the narcos. You're just waiting for the message to come down through the ranks that it's all hands on deck for taking down Escobar. Lou knows about your indifference and exacerbates it every chance he gets.

"Agent, I want you to work with Mil Group on tracking their movement to see if there are any patterns. I want to know where they're going and what they're planning." He says, pointing to you. You give him a look and cross your arms over your chest. You hate working with Mil Group. It's a group of guys with sticks up their asses and, somehow, never see the outside of an office. You catch Javi and Steve walking by through the windows, obviously going somewhere, and you lose whatever patience you have.

"All due respect, Colonel, but Ambassador Noonan took me off of desk duty effective immediately. I think I could be of more help in another area concerning M-19." You say, and he raises his eyebrows at you. You're also not fucking boss, you think.

"I'm sure we can find the time for you to show us how big and bad you are another time, sweetheart, but right now, this is where you're ordered to go." The nickname is abrasive in your ears, and you want to correct him, demanding your title as Agent, but Javi's words ring in your ears. They're waiting for you to freak out so they can send you home. They're waiting for you to blow up on somebody for a small thing. They want you to fail. You sigh and bite your tongue.

"Yes, sir." You say before making your way to the Jarheads.

For being off of desk duty, you still feel like you're doing mind-numbing work. All you're doing is plotting points on a map where satellite phones have pinged off of cell towers in an attempt to triangulate where they might be hiding out. Considering how there are barely any cell towers that reach that deep into the jungle, and even if they did, the calls drop after about thirty seconds, you don't have a ton of riveting information to work with. You listen to the recorded, half-legible calls and translate what you can to another agent, but nothing suggests they're planning anything. If they are, they're keeping it off your radar.

After wasting a stupid amount of time doing that, Lou draws up a bigger map and makes you replot all the points down with an estimate of where they might be. You're not CENTRA SPIKE or well-versed in how triangulation even works, and he knows this. It's a fool's errand at best, but he demands it by the end of the day. "So I can give it to the tech analysis guys." He says. You're about one more pointless task away from bashing your head into a wall, but you start on the map anyway.

You're about halfway through when you hear Murphy calling your name, and you turn to see him and Javi walking through the crowded Mil Group office.

"You're working with the Army now?" He asks, and you sigh.

"For the day. Lou is on everyone's ass about this M-19 shit and thinks I'm the best person for the job, apparently," you say. "Please tell me you have something better than this."

"We just got a sicario's son off the street. Dumbass was distributing in broad daylight in front of a cop." Javi says, and you furrow your eyebrows.

"We both know that's not a good enough reason for a cop to pick up a sicario's kid. What're you holding out on me?"

"Apparently, the cop heard him bragging about rigging a car with a bomb. He said something along the lines of, 'That's what happens to rats,' and then said something about going after La Golondrina next." Steve supplies. So this sicario's kid rigged the bomb to kill the informant who sniffed you out, said he also had a bomb for you, and now he's sitting somewhere in DEA custody? If Escobar's men weren't going after you before, they definitely are now.

"Do you think he even knows anything? He might just be daddy's errand boy."

"He asked for a deal," Steve says.

"Wheeling and dealing might not be grounds for extradition, but threatening to blow up a United States CIA agent just might be," Javi says. Something shifts in his eyes just enough for you to catch it, and you know it has to do with the conversation you had at the bar. You shake your head and break eye contact with him to look at Steve.

"Right, but you know how Wysession and Jones are. If it doesn't involve communist groups, they don't even want to look at it."

"The kid told us that some of Escobar's men have been talking with one of the leaders of M-19." Bingo. You throw down your marker, stand from the desk Wysession relegated you to, and all but march into his office with Steve and Javi close behind you.

"How's that plotting coming along, honey?" Lou asks as he looks up from his paperwork, his face falling at the sight of the two men behind you. Lou might not like you, but he dislikes Javi and Steve more.

"Agents Peña and Murphy have intel that Pablo is communicating with M-19 guerillas," you say. "That means there could be a joint attack coming, which means we can't keep separating the communist and narcos task forces."

"Has this information gone through Noonan?" He asks.

"No, sir. We wanted to relay the information to our Agent here first since the intel involves her kidnapping." Steve speaks up, using your actual title, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking.

"Is your intel good?" Lou asks Steve, ignoring you and Javi, and Steve gives him a look.

"You think we'd be wastin' your time if it wasn't?"

"Well, then, you better get a move on and go tell her." He says like he doesn't actually like the idea, but he can't think of anything else to say. You, Javi, and Steve quickly leave his office and start the trek to Noonan's office when Steve gets a call on his sat phone. He looks like he's about to ignore it before remembering it could be Connie, and even though she's supposed to be at work, he doesn't take any chances and answers it. You're close enough to him to hear her frantic chattering on the phone and saying something about M-19 and Escobar. The walk to Noonan's office turns into a run, but it doesn't matter. By the time you get there, thousands upon thousands of pages of evidence against Pablo Escobar are burning on the TV as M-19 takes over the Palace of Justice.

This isn't just a singular agency fight anymore. You doubt it ever was. You know that the Palace of Justice Siege will change everything for better or worse, and you have to be ready for it. Promises made over glasses of scotch be damned.

TAGLIST:@abbyhaslongshorts@kiwiharrykiwi@sumsworldz@myloveistoolittle@anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @space-zaddy-din-djarin @rainy-darling (let me know if you don't wanna be tagged for this series!)

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i984 · 1 year

Text

I Love You- Wait, What?

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: THIS IS CRACK, Ooc! Wednesday Addams, author kind of gave up on writing after the third perspective shift, honestly this fic is just a joke at this point, potion works weirdly here, stupid love confessions, panicked but low-key high! Wednesday Addams.

|Summary|: You ruin everything for Wednesday Addams, be it sleeping peacefully or good potion-making.

|A/n|: This might as well be titled "I Gave Up on Quality" with the pairing of Wednesday x @vorsdany . I am really sorry but also not really. I promise I write better fics than this.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A moron.

That's what you are.

"No, I'm pretty sure I put in the right stuff. Snake fangs and then lavender, right?" You scratched at your back while stretching your sore body as carefully as possible.

With the cauldron, textbooks, parchments, and various ingredients scattered across Wednesday's dorm room floor, you're pretty sure the girl will smack your head if you spill the potion in the making the second time.

Wednesday pointed at the procedure text in hand; you sighed as you leaned forward to read. Okay. Great. So you managed to mess up not only the order but also the name of the ingredients.

"Snake tail? Well- You know what? I can't help you make this mystery potion if you don't tell me what it's for."

"You were the one who insisted on being a nuisance, might I remind you," Wednesday scoffed as she crossed her arms, brows coming together at the disaster liquid filling the pot.

The potion glows a wine color, its light casting a shadow on the ravenette's tired face; the dark bags underneath her eyes compliment her overall corpse-like look. You wouldn't worry because somehow this appearance works a charm for her, except her behaviors have also resembled the living dead.

"Well, it's because you look like you can use some help-"

"I do not need help, especially not from you."

Wednesday didn't even look up as she said it, nose buried deep in whatever book she was reading. Why do you even bother to put up with her at this point?

"Fine! I'm leaving, then." No response.

If she is going to act like you don't exist, you might as well sabotage her top-secret project. Hands swiftly switching the marked lids of two flower jars—white periwinkle and phlox—you stand up and make your way across the room, heading for the door.

"Good luck, Wens." You throw her an open smirk you know she won't see before exiting the room.

You can't wait to see her fail.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wednesday lets her body slump as soon as the sound of your footsteps recedes to nothing. The past week has been... restless. And she meant that quite literally. For some reason, her past vision invades her mind when she tries to subdue her consciousness.

With her eyes closed, the picture was as blinding as it is irritating, like daylight to her pitch-black heart.

It always started with a smile—that annoying smug one—plastered on a face she knew too well for her own liking. And then, echoes of laughter would haunt her, taunt her.

She hasn't let it go farther than that. She couldn't. If Wednesday is going insane, it'll be from the intense torture she befalls upon herself. Not from such unwelcomed twisted imageries that plague her mind.

"Descendamus somno sempiterno, donec corpus e carcere reviviscat." Wednesday speaks in her best Latin, fingers trembling as they throw the right ingredients into the cauldron.

She watches the liquid turn colorless—a telltale sign that it's successful—and sighs in relief.

Finally, her sleeping potion is ready.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You turn your head to the sound of a familiar booming voice calling your name across the cafeteria. Enid, the werewolf, approaches you with a daunting look on her face. How unusual.

"No bone-crushing hugs today?"

No response. Why is everybody ignoring your words?

"Something is really wrong with Wednesday."

You huff at her while you take a seat. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure she just kicked me out of your room half an hour ago." You grab a brownie from your plate and take a bite out of it. "That seemed pretty normal to me."

Enid raises her eyebrow at you knowingly. "Well, what did you do?"

"Nothing!"

A couple of heads turn both your ways. Suddenly, the ceiling looks very interesting. You can see Enid waving dismissively at the crowd from your peripherals. Face contorting in an apologetic look, you take another bite from your brownie.

"Anyway, she told me my sweater looks like a lunatic splattered their guts on it."

The piece of cake dropped off your mouth. "That means she's into your sweater," Enid raised her eyebrows speculatively as she handed you a tissue, "Did she just give you a compliment?"

"As a matter of fact, yes I did."

You and Enid jump at the chilling voice from behind you.

"Dude! You scared the heck out of me," you turn your head to see Wednesday holding a glass of red liquid. She looked drowsy—subdued almost.

"First of all, never call me 'dude' ever again," the ravenette seated beside you groggily, "and second of all, I thought I made a point that fear feeds my entertainment needs."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you do that-"

You take a pause. Enid immediately notices the look on your face.

"What? What's wrong?" The werewolf asked you in a hushed tone. The raven watches as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Did you just- Did she just-" You pull away from Wednesday in disbelief, "reply to the things I say?"

The girl in question only raises her eyebrow at you, the glass of pomegranate juice resting on her now red-stained lips. Then her brows slowly meet in the middle again, perfectly mirroring her look from earlier.

The glass produces a thud as Wednesday puts it down on the table. You and Enid share a look with each other. A concerned look. One of you has got to say something right now, and you aren't going to be the one to do it.

The sentiment is shared apparently because the blonde also has her mouth trapped shut.

Clankings of dishes. Chatter comes from the crowds. The room was far from silent, but for some reason, it was as if everybody was waiting for Wednesday's response. The tension thickens in the air as the girl turns to look at you, despair etched in her features.

"I need your help."

You take the last bite out of your brownie. The sweetness resembles something of a victory.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There must be something wrong with the potion; Wednesday figured out as much. She expected that after the drowsiness took over and her heartbeat slowed, she'd finally be able to shut her mind and get some much-needed rest.

But it was the opposite; while her muscles may have relaxed, the images flashed through her brain with newfound intensity.

The smug smile, the laughter that resembled screeching metal chains, the mischievous twinkle in those eyes- Oh, how those eyes dragged her feet through the corridors of Ophelia hall.

Nothing made sense anymore; Wednesday needed to find the source of her madness and stop whatever is happening at the very core.

She needs to stop you.

But not before throwing Enid a merry compliment along the way and giving Eugene a preposterous nickname.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Bee Man? That's what you came up with?" You're almost rolling on Wednesday's dorm room floor, hands coming to clutch your contracting stomach; if Wednesday doesn't kill you now, the laughter certainly will.

"Yes, but can we please focus on the task at hand?" The ravenette clenched her jaw, "You're supposed to be helping me find the problem with the potion-"

Boisterous cackles cut through Wednesday's words, and you swear you can see fumes coming out of her ears. "-not to laugh at a genuine, original nickname."

"Yes, but he asked you to give him a nickname and BEE MAN-" you wheeze uncontrollably, eyes tearing up at the absurdity of it.

If you knew changing one ingredient would've given you a very talkative and silly Wednesday Addams, you would've done so during potion class ages ago.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you what I did," you take a deep breath, hands coming to pick up one of the vials containing water-like liquid; eyes scanning the mystery messed up serum.

"But, only if you answer my questions first."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wednesday was ready to whip out a dagger to your neck and make a new potion from scratch, but without identifying the real problem, she'd risk committing the same mistake again.

After all, she'd been meticulous in following the instructions. So it couldn't have been a mistake on her part.

Begrudgingly, she nods, bracing herself for whatever question you may throw her.

You flashed her a teasing smirk, and Wednesday could've sworn it was almost identical to the ones that haunted her every time she so much closed her eyes. A mere coincidence. That's all that is.

"All right, question number one," you cleared your throat before resuming, "Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?"

This threw Wednesday off. And as if you could read her mind, you added a quick, "and no, there's no significance to these questions. Just answer them as is."

Recalling the intense debate Enid has dragged her in with Yoko in the past, she thanked her roommate internally for the fact that the werewolf has basically force-fed her the food.

A simple 'yes' slides out Wednesday's mouth, and you move on to the second question—still with that annoying smirk plastered on your face.

"The second question. Mint chocolate ice cream for dessert, yay or nay?"

"Yes."

"Beep-boop, that's not the proper answer to my question. You have two more chances of getting this correct!"

Wednesday feels her face scrunch in exasperation, "I thought you said there's no signi-"

"One more chance until you're disqualified! Please choose your words carefully," you wiggled your eyebrows at her, and it took everything in Wednesday not to smash the spare potion vial at your face.

"Yay. The answer is yay."

"Yay, indeed!" you make a grand gesture by lifting your hands in the air, "Onto the next question. Which one do you put in first; cereal or milk-"

"Milk. It's milk. Next question please."

"Ohoho, eager are we?" you stand up and grab the textbook Wednesday had used earlier for the potion-making instruction. Now Wednesday has all her attention on you, eyes narrowing in laser focus as anticipation for your upcoming words.

"Finally! The most important question of this compatibility test, and no matter your answer, I'll tell you what you desire to hear most!"

Your fingers tap and dance on the book's cover—imitating the sound of drumrolls—and Wednesday almost mauled you then and there if not for your question;

"You, Wednesday Friday Addams, have a crush on me, yes or no?"

The ravenette surprisingly sinks in an internal debate at this.

Just say no. It wouldn't matter. You'll know why the sleeping potion doesn't work after this. Just say no. What is stopping you? It's so easy. The answer is no. Just say-

"Yes, I do."

What?

No, no, no, no. This can't be. Correct yourself. Say-

"I do have a crush on you."

The book you're holding dropped to the floor. Wednesday looks up to see your mouth gaping, eyes darting all over her face as if you're looking for a sign of her joking.

But there was none. There was just a surprised look shared between the two of you.

Wednesday quickly grabs her book and flips through the pages hurriedly.

The slip-ups, compliments, and the awful nickname. The love confession. Could it really be?

Wednesday's fingers slowed down as she reached a designated page, her eyes scanning the room to see two almost identical flower jars at the foot of her bed, only differentiated by a label stuck on the lid.

And when Wednesday caught your guilty face looking at it like her, she knew.

White Periwinkle and Phlox. The two kinds of flower that are similar in appearance but differ significantly as ingredients of a potion.

"A truth potion," You both breathed out into the room.

And you look at Wednesday; she's looking at you.

"So it's true then?" The shakiness in your voice surprised the two of you, forcing you to clear your throat for the second time in her room.

"It is what it is," Wednesday tears her gaze away from yours to the book in hand, covering her flushed face with the extent of her bangs.

"Unless we managed to mess up the truth potion too, then maybe-"

"No, no, no, no, because," you drop to the ground and kneel at the space in front of her, hands hurriedly opening the vial containing the liquid that had started it all. Wednesday panically looks at you now, and you smile at her before chugging the whole thing down.

"I have a crush on you, too."

And there it is in all your glory; bright smug smile, childish laughter, and mischievous eyes. It finally clicked for Wednesday that you—yes, you—are her eternal living nightmare. She'll make sure you pay the price for all her sleepless nights.

And it's not gonna be cheap.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

|A/n2|: I really am genuinely sorry, I promise I'll do better next time.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday series #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams icon #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x gn reader #spotify

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

Note

also thoughts on yamace now that you've seen them

Stabbing me in the esophagus would have hurt way less than watching these two interact. I want to give you a proper answer like I always do instead of incoherent screaming, but I watched the flashback so recently that I'm still fucking sobbing. I can't stand gay people and their daddy issues. They make me insane. But since I'm an annoying writer, I will try and explain why Yamace has suddenly made his way to my top 5 ships in only three episodes. I'm pretty sure everybody knows all of this already because I'm late to the boom of episode 1015, but damn, I really need to talk about this or I'll die.

Okay, first of all, their personalities are so good together. They're both silly and fun to watch and impulsive and they want to be free from the chains their fathers put them in (metaphorically and, well, also literally). Perhaps the animation and direction of the show (especially on episode 1015 because oh my fucking goodness) helped a little in setting the romantic mood, but the interactions were all them. These two are literally something else.

To me, it's the angst of falling in love in the span of a night with a stranger with whom you have a lot in common and then watching them go, hoping to see them again- Like, basically being the only thing you look forward to because you don't have anything else except them and the freedom they promised you. And then watching them drift away between your fingers without being able to do anything. It's the frustration and helplessness and the way Yamato's life was the best it could've been and then crumbled down to the point where he had to place his faith in a man who he only knows because Ace talked about him constantly without shutting the fuck up because he's the most annoying brother ever (I love him).

And- I don't know, man. The chemistry is unmatched. Like, I actually felt I was interrupting their romantic moment watching that shit. If I hadn't known anything about them I would have genuinely thought they would kiss.

The whole "You can't choose your parents" and "What do you really want to do?" left me crying and sobbing on the floor. I literally had to sit down on the floor and cry because I couldn't take the parallelisms between them, both being children of important pirates and feeling (a very valid) resentment towards them. It's so good. The way they bond and talk to each other,,, The way they look at each other? This is the type of thing you only see in a romcom. Because quite literally: What the fuck.

And it's not only the obvious parallelisms or the fact that their personalities match perfectly (and also that, aesthetically, they look amazing together. But I think that's what happens when both boyfriends are hot af) but the fact that in the span of a night... Their feelings were so genuine. Ace wanted to come back, he just wasn't strong enough at the time and he was so positive and determined to become stronger so he would go back to Tama and Yamato,,, And Yamato? Waiting for Ace? Yamato waiting for his only friend to come back but knowing he will never do it? Yamato was so cute and excited to meet Ace, and seeing him hurt but it hurt less knowing that he would come back. The fact that he's dead takes that away from him. It just makes him have more faith in Luffy because he carries Ace with him.

How can a ship be so fucking good in only three episodes???? Going fucking wild. Ace taught him the meaning of living freely. Ace made him want to fight to be free. Ace changed his life and, honestly, Yamato changed his life too because it was the second biggest promise (first one being with Luffy, about not dying) he made and he had to actually train and fight to fulfill it. And he wasn't able to do it, but the whole "Luffy carrying Ace's promise" thing makes me go fucking wild.

Well, basically, to finish this: Expect a lot of posts from me about Yamace from now on and also a lot of edits to Taylor Swift songs.

This is so,,, God. It's so romantic. The lightning. The smiles. The fact that they're literally two intersecting lines that will never meet again. It makes me sick.

#they make me go wild #i swear i woke up and i quickly started writing this #they make my heart go ERDFCGVNJKMÑOEFLSKJDNHFGFJDKWBKEFNWLENFL #you know?#one piece #yamace #yamato #portgas d. ace

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papercupids · 11 months

Text

here (always).

pairing -> seungmin x reader. ft. bang chan.

warnings -> a lot of parental trauma on both y/n and seungmin's side, alcohol, seungmin is a jerk and then eventually transitions into something that resembles connell from normal people, some curses here and there.

word count -> 9.5k

summary -> as kids of the rival businessmen, all you and seungmin have been taught is to hate the other family with passion and to be better than them always, but its only about time when you fall in love with each other and he messes up. will he ever get to make it better?

a/n -> this is loosely inspired by our beloved summer (the kdrama) & normal people (the book + the show) and i've been writing this fic since august last year :") its only recently that i got the motivation to finish it !!! lemme know what y'all think??

listen to this playlist for songs that remind me of seungmin!

act i. last year of highschool, midterms result.

“And for the first place, we have two people who are quite close to the other, kim seungmin and-”

The microphone boomed through the filled but silent auditorium, everybody was on the edge of their seats about the midterm result, but one thing was certain, deep down, they knew it would be either you or Kim seungmin in the first place. It was annoying how many times jiung from section c, or geum hee from section a, and many others had wanted their name to be announced by the greasy voiced announcer but had failed.

Yes, you. You didn’t need to hear your name even to know it was you. It always has been that way, the both of you fighting for the first place.

“However, their results differ just by a point,”

This piqued your interest, you knew your mother wouldn’t let you live it down if you let seungmin win ever.

“y/n l/n, congratulations!”

Claps erupted from the hall and two rows from you, you could see seungmin smirk as he clapped too, but slowly and sarcastic, he’d lost but somehow he still managed to have that annoying smirk plastered over his face. You aren’t one to back down though, you bow down dramatically and offer him the most shiteating grin that you can muster.

From the last three years, it has been this way, both of you just a point ahead of the other or sometimes not even that, just quite literally neck to neck. And this, to the amusement of both of your parents, has become a regular topic of discussion at the dinner table.

It seemed like both of your families were destined to be rivals, your fathers in business, mothers in the bragging part and then the children in the academic stuff. And you weren’t quite sure why the two families would still insist on having dinner together occasionally, stabbing each other with words as much as possible.

“To y/n, to the perfect 499 you scored,” you rolled your eyes, as yeji fake toasted her water bottle, she knew you hated the whole thing because a) it was worthless b) even if you thought it was worthless, you had to work your ass off for it.

“I don’t know how you do it honestly, i’m practically dead with my 450,”

“You know i don’t have a choice,”

She nods understandingly.

"i feel bad for seungmin, you know, losing by just one point? he's gotta have a dent on his ego for sure,"

"let's rub it in," you smirk

The break was almost ending and you see seungmin entering the class, his friends cheering him on as well. You nod at yeji and get up, mischief on your mind, and tap at seungmin’s shoulder. The boys quiet down as they see you.

“Congratulations,” he extends his hand to meet yours.

“For losing to me again,” you wink as you sit on his desk.

“Oh, come on, all of us know, i just let you win,”

“You’re one sore loser, seungmin,” you roll your eyes and get up. “See you at dinner.”

The conversations resume but seungmin looks at you, chatting away with yeji then joining a couple of other people, picking up your backpack and then ultimately leaving the classroom.

He hated that he lost again, he knew very well he could have done better.

But then he shrugged, there’s always a next time.

the dinner was as crisp as the first few times, in one of those restaurants you could have a closed off booth. thankfully, or you didn't know what you would do if others could listen to the petty bickerings your parents were doing.

the greetings are through gritted teeth, seungmin looks completely dashing in a tuxedo, but his eyes are downcast. this was one of those times you felt sorry for the whatever jerk façade he had on, in school and here he was what he really could be.

it was fixed that whenever the results would be out, both of your families would go out for dinner, under the pretext of "celebrating their kids' hard work"

but you knew it was far from that, it was just something where they could brag about their own families and insist on paying the bill.

“So, seungmin, where are you looking at for college?” your mom asked, she wasn’t actually interested in knowing where seungmin was going she just wanted some material to compare you to later, to taunt you on how his choice would be better.

“Oh, actually, the same as y/n,”

“So the national university, then?”

He nods, chewing through his food.

“I doubt he’ll make it though, the way he’s studying,” his dad interjects.

And you swear you can see his face betraying him for a moment but he keeps a poker face as he says, “i’m gonna work harder, father,”

“You better,” your mum offers, “i want to keep on having these dinners, at least until you both bring your spouses to us, here,”

Seungmin’s mom chuckles, “yeah, then, you can continue the legacy, with your kids,”

You, for one, knew that this was something both you and seungmin could collectively agree on, to never do the same your parents did with your kids.

While you say your goodbyes, your mum holds you both and says, “i hope you get in the university, i really do, and you should work hard for it!”

“We will,” you both smile to each other before leaving.

Late that night, you have your headphones on as you look through your books, deciding what subject to study next as you munch on an apple.

This is the time you enjoy, the night, the silence, your music and-

The changing of the track allows you to hear the light taps on your window, and you run to it, light steps as if anybody would even pay attention to those sounds.

Sliding the window open, a brunette guy, about your age, comes inside, wearing a blue hoodie covering his head.

And kim seungmin.

“Hi,” he grins as you pull him in for a hug.

He smells of the outside, the night and the comfort. For as long as you live then, you’ll always associate this fragrance with someone you love - deeply, truly.

As you pull away, your face is just inches apart from his.

“I’m so proud of you,” he cups your face then kisses your forehead.

And then another kiss, this time on the lips. “I love you,”

This had been going for a while now, when two people are in the same shitty situation together, going through it with a person who’s having the same hell as you makes it easier.

Later, you’re on the bed, lying fully clothed, looking at the beige ceiling of your room, your hands intertwined, its the way he makes you feel, like there's no train you're running to catch, no flight that's leaving, you're here and he's here, it's content.

“Do you think i’ll make it? In college, i mean,”

You turn to look at him, “you’re one of the most intelligent people i’ve ever met, seungmin, you shouldn’t be doubting yourself just because your dad said so,”

“Right,”

you make a dissatisfied noise.

“Look at me,” you make him look at you, “we’ll both be alright, okay?”

“Okay,” a grin makes way on his face.

"i don't know though, i shouldn't doubt myself but everytime he says shit like this, i just end up wondering if i should really even do this, i don't even know if i'm capable enough, i just really don't want to disappoint him ever,"

"c'mon, minnie, we both know he's just frustrated and he can't find a better outlet than you because god knows how your mother would just stab him on the spot if he said something like that to her,"

"right, it just hurts sometimes,"

and you turn to him, brushing his cheeks with your thumb, "i'm sorry,"

he hums in response.

"you know i'm always here, right?"

you kiss him on the cheek.

he just smiles a little in response.

And you don’t know when you fall asleep, just that seungmin’s arms are the best place to sleep, better than any expensive pillow you could ever sleep on. When the sunlight hits your eyes, you’re alone, and much to your dismay, a pillow in place of where seungmin was.

In your chats with seungmin, he has attached a picture, of you sleeping, “i shall now blackmail you with this photograph - fail the next exam, or this is going to be on every phone in seoul haha”

You type back, “oh no shit i guess that way they can have a new wallpaper ;)”

Seungmin replies “🤢 i dont think ive ever seen anybody as narcissistic as you”

You quickly text back as you button your shirt, “yes u have”

Another text, “in the mirror”

To which he sends a rolling eyes emoji.

After saying goodbye and “see you at school” you quickly delete the chat with him before heading downstairs for breakfast.

You didn’t understand why seungmin insisted on keeping the whole secret, but then looking around at the breakfast table with your parents trying to explain to the cooks about some new diet they’d heard about from seungmin’s parents, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. The idea of a competition was instilled so deep into their minds that they wouldn’t have ever even thought about such a thing.

And at school, it’s the same day over and over again every week with the only relief being the student sitting about two benches ahead in the row next to yours. He smiled at you when no one was looking and a look passed between you both, which was somehow more precious than any grand gesture could have been.

And the nights, your favourite part of the day, where you could be yourself, no guards up. Just him and you and all of your plans for each other, some music too maybe, but that’s it. In those moments, no stress could touch you, no harm. It was just bliss, just you both.

In that moment, you swear you could see forever, maybe a lifetime with him.

But reality caught up with you in the morning, that even if a forever was there, with him for you, there were too many challenges in the way, challenges that were exhausting but you were still getting to them, one step at a time, as he kept your ship afloat.

just as the school year progresses, the one social event you'd been dreading catches up quick as you sit in the cafeteria, sipping on some apple juice as some members from the council are busy lining the hallways with banners of the school colours, purple with yellow, and on it, written in block letters, 'the annual dance.'

as if sensing that you are thinking about it, yujin takes a bite from a sandwich as she asks, "have you thought about who you're gonna take?"

"i don't think i'm gonna attend, it's useless anyway,"

"oh, come on, these are the years you'll later miss, you'll be 67 someday and when your kids ask you about the fun stories of your youth, you'll have nothing, do you want that?"

"i think you're just overdramatising it,"

"and you're not paying attention to me, you NEED to come,"

you sigh, there was sometimes no way to win an argument with yujin and you hoped somebody from the table would rescue you but all the other girls were engrossed in their own topics. most of them, about the dance.

the truth was, you would be lying if you said you entirely didn't want to go, because you did but you weren't sure what that would entail. and a small part, okay, alright not that small but it wished seungmin would ask you to the dance.

it seemed impossible with the status of your relationship in the public but you hoped you could get past it, because as yujin said, these would be the days you'd end up missing.

but anyway you weren't even sure if dances were even seungmin’s thing.

so you sipped the last of the apple juice as yujin ran you through the pros of attending the dance.

"you can ask hyunjin, he has literally been eyeing you since the freshman year,"

"ew, what no, come on, yujin,"

"well, what about yongbok then?"

"no,"

"jeongin?"

"as if."

"hey! what about seungmin?"

and you can't even muster a clever response to that, yujin, thankfully doesn't seem to notice that she's struck a nerve. she continues chewing through the rest of her food and then finally, sighing, "at least sleep on it, okay? i want you there, really,"

you thank your friend and then head back to class, an entire day of books, notes and more books awaiting you.

the upcoming nights, there are just texts, "i can't come, i'm too tired," and there was no way you could have made 2 steps out of your own home without being caught so couldn't really blame seungmin.

but thank god for facetimes then. whatever you were doing, whether it was making notes for biology or tidying up your wardrobe, he was there, watching you, smiling at your little circumstantial jokes.

and after he fell asleep, you would look up at the ceiling till you could fall asleep, wondering how long someone could keep a secret.

maybe college would bring something more solid, and promising for you both. you desperately hoped it would.

you don't know why but on this particularly cloudy day as your family decided to drive out for lunch, your mind went out to the day you first met seungmin. you had been known him since freshman year but this was the incident that really made you see see him, in a different light altogether.

it was about march, and the air was crisp with the onset of spring, it was the perfect day for your physical education period where everybody was pondering whether they should play dodgeball or volleyball and they were actually serious about it.

but you weren't quite in the mood to play, and looking back you didn’t even know if it was a lie or just something you were doing out of sheer boredom but you were heading straight to the nurse's office when you heard soft piano sounds from the auditorium because the door was slightly ajar and the tunes were so delicate and just flowing together that it almost sounded like someone was playing a prerecorded track.

but when you stepped in, you saw him, sitting on the bench and playing through, completely engrossed and as you move closer you realise he's also humming some lyrics.

you take a seat in one of the chairs, the melody providing a great relief to your ears as compared to the nonsensical chatter of your classmates and he's way too much into it to notice you there anyway.

and he slows down his movements on the piano as the tune ends on a light note, he finally turns, freezing when he spots you there.

expecting a snarky comment from you, he's picking up his backpack.

"that was good,"

he didn't think you were physically capable of compliments, so he just stood there, trying to make sense of it.

"thank you?"

"i didn't know you played, your parents never told mine i think,"

"don't tell them." it comes out as a threat when its actually meant as a request. he'd learnt how to play it from a friend and he didn't want his parents to know because they'd be all over him for wasting his time on something that 'unproductive'.

"oh, um, okay,"

and that was the day you began wondering about an aspect of the boy you were used to knowing, it became endearing to you the fact that he could have a whole lot of himself away from those pretentiousness of it all.

and after that it's just inevitable, somehow you keep bumping into each other, sometimes during grocery shoppings, sometimes during bus rides the seat next to him would be vacant and you'd just sit there. any enmity was just pushed back gradually, as if you both were just different people here, new versions of yourself, it was almost refreshing.

and then came the planned meetings, at cafès and small restaurants way too far from home so you couldn't have a chance to be recognised by anyone.

it just meant something that was meant to fall in place.

seungmin is tired; tired of sitting every day at the same dining table and being pulled apart, for every little thing he does or doesn't. he tries to concentrate on his food, on every strand of the noodles he's eating, on every crunch of the meat, so that the things he's actually meant to hear will tune out.

"and it's coming up," turning to him, his mother looks at him eagerly, "when is it?"

"when is what?"

"the dance?"

"somewhere in december,"

"seungmin, today is the 5th,"

oh, that could be the reason his face feels drier than usual, oh, it was also snowing. he needs to pay better attention to his calendar.

only if he wasn't spiraling though.

he's convinced the only thing that's keeping him rooted and connected to reality is you.

"i think before christmas,"

"have you asked someone yet?"

he imagines the kind of trauma he would unleash upon himself, all the members sitting on the table and the servers, who are alert at every movement each of them makes, to refill every glass to ensure the stew is hot, if he announces he's dating you.

it would be hilarious in some other universe, but right now he was here, and if he was going to survive anymore of dinner at the same table, he needed to be rational.

"i haven't yet, i plan to soon,"

"you better, i don't want to hear about my son being a complete loner who doesn't even date, we don't want you being labelled as 'the nerd',"

seungmin's mother sheepishly asks, "do you know if y/n's taking someone?"

"i don't know,"

he's not even sure what you think of dances.

"you need to be better, seungmin, be better,"

it's the one dialogue which keeps on playing in his head, long after he's asleep, even in nightmares the monsters aren't chasing him to kill him, they're asking him to "be better, do better," and it stings as he lets it slide like he always has.

everywhere around you, you can see people holding hands, newly in love, their futures after the dance unknown.

the public displays almost makes you want to throw up but then you kinda wish you were holding hands with that one guy across a few tables, too, he's smiling at something someone said but as he catches your eye, he smiles at you, blinking twice.

"i love you!" you want to scream to the whole cafeteria, standing on one of the tables. "i love you so much that i can't hide it anymore, i wish we didn't have to,"

it wouldn't be of any use, he's not keeping it under wraps voluntarily, and you know that.

the sandwich on your plate doesn't look quite desirable but you're hungry enough to eat it in slow and unsatisfactory bites.

there's a sudden pause in the discussions of the girls at your table, and yeji moves in closer to you.

"do you know who asked yujin to the dance?"

you arch your eyebrows and then look at the mentioned person who is engrossed in conversation with one of your other friends, karina, and they are most probably going through their outfits for the dance.

"uh huh,"

"your arch-nemesis,"

your hand froze at the side of the table where you kept it for support and you stopped mid way of chewing your bland sandwich, and stomach lurched out, threatening to make you throw up in front of the entire cafeteria. you just pray yeji can't see it.

"i'm so surprised, right? i've never even seen seungmin look at her even,"

and you can't process the rest of the gossip which she seems to nonchalantly throw around.

"are you sure?" you ask, you can feel your lips begin to tremble.

"what do you mean 'are you sure?' i saw it, he asked her in the library, and she rolled her eyes at him but then obviously said yes."

as the bell rings, you dump the rest of your sandwich in the trash, and walk back to class, where seungmin is settling in his desk and dropping the books for the period that's about to follow, on the desk.

since the bell is about to ring, people are hurrying about trying to fit in a few minutes of free time before the agony of the class begins and running around; someone once said, what the school truly is, you can only know at lunch time. or not. maybe you just made that up in your panic and anxiety as you approach seungmin wordlessly and grab his hand, leaving no room for argument as you drag him out of the class, to the staircase where no one cares enough to go and whoever does has already left.

"in public, y/n? really?"

you can't answer him, so you blankly stare at his face.

"you asked yujin to the dance."

he shrugs, how was everything of so little meaning to him?

"yes, i guess,"

"i guess? do i really mean that little to you?"

"y/n, are you hearing yourself? we can't be seen together like this and you know it's because our parents would rip out ours and each other's throats if they knew, and they wanted me to go to this bloody dance, which, by the way, i'm telling you already i won't be enjoying. and the last resort was asking someone other than you, it's not a big deal, really."

and the bell rings.

you don't even have anything to say so you withdraw your eyes from his; seungmin knows he's fucked up but he can't do anything about this.

he's sick of having things he can't control, but he can't do anything about that either.

the only thing that keeps him going is that he can change it, in the future. that it will be better.

and he walks away. the students, with their unpausing chatter are gathering inside the class again as he walks, and you stand there trying to figure out if the whole thing was just a bad, bad fever dream or maybe worse, a joke seungmin's family had planned, how easily can we make our son break hearts?

you wouldn't be surprised if it was one of their tactics.

and the rest of the day passes in a haze, like a flashback, but you do remember not looking at him even when you see him staring at you, you can't. you aren't sure how much of this hurt you could take, if your parents didn't want you to date then you shouldn't. period.

this was it.

and the next few hours, you spend putting your phone on do not disturb and you're surprised by how much you can study when you don't have anyone to distract you and don't have to constantly check your phone for notifications, maybe this was for the better afterall.

but as you slowly reach towards the end, you can feel your notes stain with your tears, god, fuck him.

and you can't even escape him in your own room, because every corner, there is something or the other connected to him, whether the plushie which smells just like him after he sprayed it with his perfume once or the watch he gifted you on your birthday, it's all there.

a pathetic thought creeps in your brain, you should just let him in, it's not his fault. and you knew it wasn't but you shouldn’t have been suffering either, it was unfair.

maybe all those road trips in the usa and the expeditions in maasai mara were meant to be just a dream. it just seemed worthless that you were stupid enough to think this could work anyway.

amidst the small chewing sounds and the slight clatter of plates on the table, mostly no one talks at the dining table, no one has to, anyway, they have nothing to talk about.

If you remove the whole bragging to neighbours and relatives aspect from your family, they could actually end up being pretty cool too, not interfering much in your life except your studies.

“You just need to study well, y/n, everything else will fall into place,” your mother always told you, she didn’t want you to be dependent on anyone, financially or emotionally. It was always one of her main principles, “stand on your own feet, then you can fall in love with someone, or not,”

So that part was pretty neat about your family. And you didn’t think your father was in quite a hurry to marry you off too, but you wondered if it’s just because you are just about to come of age, will things change soon? You hoped they wouldn’t.

After a lot of failed attempts and second thoughts, you finally clear your throat, and unnaturally which makes both of them stare at you.

“Mum, dad, i need to tell you something,”

He’s been trying to call you for hours now, every call being forwarded straight to voicemail.

He really had messed up, and if this proves anything it means he should have never listened to hyunjin rant about the dance, and how important making a move was, he just wanted to rewind time as far back as he could in the day and never pick up the books yujin dropped and ask her about the dance. How could he be so dumb?

“I don’t know what came over me, y/n, really, i’m sorry, please,”

And at that moment, a knock sounds at the door, “yes?” he calls out.

It’s his mother, holding a plate of different fruits, she pushes the door open with her hand and quickly shuts it off before balancing the plate again.

“Seungmin, have you been studying late again?” she places the plate on his study table, and ruffles his hair slightly.

“No, mum, just trying to revise a bit.”

And she sits on the corner of his bed, facing him and smiling endearly. “Good,”

“Have you talked about the date?” the topic he was dreading. Right now there was nothing else he wanted to talk about more, hell, he could even take her nagging right now.

“Yes,” he answered half-heartedly, “yes, i asked someone,”

“You don’t seem too happy about it,”

“Because i don’t want to take her,”

“Then do you have someone else you want to take?”

Yes. he could almost say it, could he? He wanted to shout, yes and i love y/n, a lot, at that.

“No, i just think dances are stupid,”

“Oh, well, you could just leave early, if you want, just dance a bit,”

She stands up and starts flattening the sheets on his bed, cueing that she’s about to leave, “oh also, who’s this bang chan?”

“Hmm, he was an alumni, a senior, why?”

“y/n’s taking him to the dance,”

“What?” he almost shouts, and then regains his composure.

“Well, obviously, their mother called,”

He doesn’t say anything, he just hopes his mother would leave the room soon and closes his eyes so she can’t see it, the tears.

After putting the pillows properly, she turns to leave.

“Sleep soon, seungmin,”

“Hmm,”

And as soon as the lock clicks, he opens them again, leaning against his desk, “fuck!” he whisper-shouts, running his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bangs his palm on the table.

If it didn’t hurt like a bitch, he would have actually given it to you on how genius the idea was, how it had struck the exact nerves it was meant for.

He didn't sleep that night, he had too many mixed emotions inside him, he didn’t know what to even say to you, like what exactly even gives him the right to be hurt when he was the one who initiated the hurt on you first?

He had unknowingly made what was one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

At the other side of the city, you were hurt, you had thought revenge would make it better but it couldn’t, it didn’t, you just wanted to be wrapped in seungmin’s arms again, and stay that way, forever. The plushie, a bear one, didn’t do much of a good job of a substitute.

and you couldn't believe that what you had put off doing for about over 6 months was so easily just done and it had went well at that.

"i'm dating seungmin,"

it had obviously garnered shocking reactions from your parents but only because of the abruptness of the confession.

"i mean, i was, not anymore,"

"well, i mean i could somehow see the both of you giving each other glances so this wasn't a surprise for me,"

your mother loved to know things, this was one of the things she knew, whether she was pretending or not, you couldn't tell but you went with it.

"why did you break up?"

"oh, well, he thinks it'll be a huge deal if his parents find out so he's not telling them and he asked someone else to then dance,"

"then you should, too," your father piped in.

"ask someone else?"

"yes, if there's anything we're gonna do is defeat them,"

and you laughed at the absurdity of it, but he was right, it would take the edge off.

so you'd call an old friend from school, chan, who was now in college, to come with you, that way it wouldn't even be weird.

the days leading to the dance brought extreme awkwardness, with neither of you knowing what to do in case of bumping into each other except admire the walls, or the ground if you do.

"bang chan's hot, god, how can you take him 'just as a friend'? you might at least have some hots for him, hmm?"

"nope, he's hot, i admit, but not my type,"

"oh, well, then what's your type?"

"i don't know but not chan,"

she signs and shakes her head.

"who are you taking?" you ask her out of curiosity but when she goes absolutely red in the face, it amuses you.

"i'm taking lia," she says quietly.

"oh my god, yeji! that's great, oh my god," you didn't know there was something going on there but you were glad it was, you could totally see it happening.

later in the day, in the library, you can sense some weird commotion and whispers a few tables away and to your absolute dismay, you spot seungmin there, along with a couple of his friends, so you go back to your book immediately.

when you glance again, one of his friends jisung was standing right beside you eagerly.

and you look at him questioningly.

"what?"

"um, y/n," he says. and you still hold the harsh, hostile look in your eyes, the few other people left on that table are looking sheepishly, including seungmin, who stole glances, seeming like he didn't really want to be interested in the topic but you know he was listening in, he had to be.

"i wanted to ask……"

"will you go to the dance with me?"

and you now glance directly at seungmin, really? lets say he couldn't tell his friends that he was dating you but he could at least have stopped one of his best friends to not ask out his girlfriend, no, ex girlfriend.

but you feel sorry for the boy in front of you.

"i would have loved to, jisung, but i already have a date,"

he gives an understanding smile and when he begins to turn away, you call out to him.

"but save me a dance, will you?"

as he turns to go, you look at seungmin, his sorry face hangs there, and you shake your head. this was the last straw.

The doorbell rings, and you look at the time, it’s chan.

You hold out your hand to your parents to stop photographing you, they’ve been doing that for the past half an hour, ever since you walked out all-ready.

“Chan!” you greet him as you smile at him, it’s been a good while since you saw him and he’s definitely finer than what he was, grew nicely into his features, yeji had told you about him and you could see it now.

He was holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath and as you lead him in, for a second round of photographs, he greets your parents and they make small talk too.

After posing awkwardly for a couple of photographs, you look at the time again, you should probably leave.

“y/n,” your mum calls out to you, and then whispers, “don’t think much about seungmin, okay? Don’t let him ruin your night,” you nod.

“Let’s go?” you ask as chan is talking to your father about something, nodding.

You put the bouquet on the kitchen counter, asking your mum to place it in a vase for you, and finally leave, your parents reminding you of your curfew.

“So,” chan holds the steering and looks at you, “long time no see, huh,”

You smile back, you’re meant to be happy today, no thoughts about seungmin please.

As he drives to the venue, the rest of the conversation is about how the school has changed, some digs at the teachers, and how your studies are going.

No one knew you were bringing chan, except yeji of course, but the others simply were quite engrossed in their own dates so much that they hadn’t asked and you didn’t think you would have told them either. But the thing with chan was that when he was your senior, he was The Crush, the guy everybody unanimously had a crush on, the nice guy, he was approachable, sweet, gentle, everything you could ever imagine being ideal, so you bet this won’t be something thats going to die down soon.

Seungmin spent the past week trying to figure out how he’ll face you, preparing himself for the moment you walk in with chan but no amount of preparation could have readied him for this, the look on your face as you walk in, your arms interlocked with his, he’d have thrown up.

“Everything okay?” yujin asks him.

“Yeah, yeah,”

The dance in itself is not a very airy place to be, with people crowding around every empty corner and the dim lights fluctuating and the music was also way too uptempo for him but for whatever reason it was, he waved back as his friends called out to him.

he could feel yujin looking at him as he slowly joined them, because she wanted to dance and he didn't and to avoid that conversation was easier than saying no.

"oh did you see chan? can't believe y/n out of people snatched him?"

"what's there not to believe?" seungmin was now looking at you both talking to a few friends of yours, arms still not apart.

"well, you know, you expect nerds to be a little anti social you know?"

"well, good for her i guess,"

and he feels her tug at his arm.

"seungmin, come with me,"

he follows, even though he knows what's going to happen, he just feels like these days despite knowing certain things are going to happen, he can't stop them from happening. odd.

"why did you even ask me?" this is the second question, he can't remember the first one.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to?"

"what?"

"i said, sorry i didn't mean to,"

"honestly seungmin, screw you, i can't believe i rejected felix for you,"

"i'm sorry,"

she's already gone.

i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, it keeps on repeating in his mind, he's sorry, to you, to yujin, to everybody else. he wished he was better, he could be, he just didn't know how to.

be better, be better, it was what he kept on hearing a lot of and he wished somebody would give him a manual for that. he was trying his best, so where was he failing? he failed at recognizing that as well.

and now he can’t move from this staircase he’s sitting on, the muffled music can reach his ears but its not as bad now, his thoughts drown it out now. that and maybe the "small" amount of whiskey jisung gave him. he shouldn’t have done that either.

He leans on the wall, he should go home now, but he’s not ready to answer his parents’ queries so he sits there and waits, so he can go home peacefully.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep in that position, his limbs huddled together for warmth but he feels it when someone puts an extra jacket on his shoulders.

In his drowsy state, he can still make out your figure, he’s convinced it’s a dream.

“y/n,”

“are you drunk, seungmin?”

he nods softly, he can feel a warm pang of guilt.

“I’m here,” and then looking at a figure beside you, you're talking to it, “can we drop him home? Its close,”

And he falls asleep again, in the backseat of the figure’s car, mostly because he still thinks he’s in a dream, an extended reality dream.

“I’m sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry,” he keeps on saying. He realizes now why he slept so hard and unconsciously that day, because he’d been not sleeping properly for about two weeks, tossing and turning and then ultimately just giving up trying to sleep at all.

He can’t walk properly, he sees you put his arm around your shoulders and lead him in, to the door.

“Will you go from here? Are you sure?” he nods, still yawning.

“Thank you,” you nod at him.

The car door slams as you sit inside, taking a minute to compose yourself as you look at chan. He’s already looking at you.

“You love him,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Loved.”

act ii. 6 months later.

he doesn't know how it happens but one second he's completely stressed about the first semester papers, trying to go through everything and anything he has missed, a sharp memory crosses his mind -

he's spinning in the chair that sits by your study as you lie on your back, questioning him about geography, there's a quiz the day after.

the moment that you look up at him, smiling as he gets an answer right is etched in his mind and its about to replay when a certain someone knocks over the table he's hunched over, nose deep in his books.

"hey," it's chan.

he's immediately embarrassed looking at him because the last time he met him he was just muttering sorrys and leaning over to you for support.

"oh, hey," he bows at him as chan takes the spot in front of him.

"long time no see!"

chan is a great person, he's very bright and he has that infectious aura of bright things except he doesn't want him here for two reasons, a) he's in stress, he'll get overwhelmed if he's not reading over every word and making sure he knows all of it, and b) he's not in the mood to be discussing the last time. this is the worst time to be bringing up the past.

Chan takes one of the books in front of seungmin and flips through it, “midterms, eh?”

He doesn’t wait for seungmin’s response but seungmin nods anyway, “don’t stress much, it’s alright,”

“Yeah, i’m just, cramming a little bit of last minute revision,”

“How have you been?” seungmin is just about to answer when chan’s phone rings, he says a little “excuse me,” and answers his phone.

“Yeah?” “oh, it’s 7 already? I didn’t realize,” “i was just in the library,” “yes, i’ll head over there now,”

He cuts the call.

“Hey, seungmin, c’mon, let's grab something to eat?”

“Oh no, no, it’s okay,”

“Just come on, we’d love your company,”

He wished he had asked who the “we” meant.

Chan wasn’t mean, he wasn’t a bad guy. Quite far from it, actually. So it came naturally to him to invite the poor boy for dinner. The boy he had seen, not even six months ago, breaking down pathetically in public. He just wants to be nice, he swears.

He doesn’t know or quite weigh the consequences, maybe because all of it is so spontaneous or maybe its his naivety on the subject. or maybe its the fact that deep down he doesn't like the way things were last time when he saw seungmin.

So when seungmin walks out with him, after gathering all of his books and pens and pencils from the library table, they talk about the college, the professors, the courses they’re taking and they pass by various cafes and little bookstores, and grocery stores. Seungmin loved this street, he’d walk around it every time things got overwhelming, to remind himself of the universe, of other people, of how small they all were, how small everything was. It was just comforting to him in an odd way.

They take a turn in front of a hamburger place and step inside, the pop music is a little too drowned out by the laughs of a group of people from their own university, they seem to be having a nice time.

And he’s looking around as chan seems to have spotted the table where they’re meant to be going, seungmin follows, scanning the place, he’s never had the actual nerve to go inside one of these places, mostly because he’d be too anxious to eat all alone and he didn’t have.. Many friends. Just one, his roommate.

In his peripheral vision, he sees the older male hugging someone and later pecking them on the cheek, was he third wheeling? He felt incredibly awkward in that moment but Chan looked back at him and called out to him, and he saw something which made him want to absolutely just regret everything he had done today that led up to this. Why did he get up on the left side of his bed? Why did he wear his beige shirt instead of the white one? Why did he go to the library when he could have easily stayed home.

You. standing there. Smiling until it froze uncomfortable, the smile. Neither of you expected the other there, it was a complete sneak attack. One that perhaps chan should have got the memo to not have arranged if he was there at all that night.

Chan wasn’t mean, really, but he couldn’t resist himself when he saw that boy on the table, all alone, his nose buried in the book, if memory serves him right he was somewhat popular in school, he’d have about five to six guys around him, not notorious at all, just good guys, who were popular. And Chan wanted to take a dig at him, the guy his potential romantic interest still couldn’t let go of.

And he should have known better, but at that moment it only seemed right to do it.

“are you crazy?”

“i really thought it would be nice for you to reconnect,” to say you were angry was an understatement but chan, at the same time was calm and composed which made you all the more angry.

“reconnect? after you saw what happened that night? after i told you how much i was still hurting because of him?”

“well, then wouldn’t it be a little better to talk?”

“NO!”

“oh, well, then, i’m sorry, i just thought it’d be too rude to not invite him since he already looked lonely,”

you sigh, there was no way it was that, you’d learn that in the months of being around him that he was nice, really nice, but sometimes he didn’t think much about the consequences, it was part of why you’d never date him, even if he kept on asking you to go out with him, on multiple occasions.

despite getting over the dinner, making minimal and formal conversation, like you didn’t know each other inside out, it just kept playing in your mind that exactly a year ago, you were looking forward to this, on how this would be the best part of your lives.

but this did confirm what you had long thought to be true, that you would never actually hate seungmin, in fact, never would stop loving him.

as you said your goodbyes, you wanted to do nothing more than leave chan’s side and run towards seungmin, join him, have him tell you how his year had been going, how did he convince his parents to agree to him pursuing music as a subject when all along they wanted him to go into computer science.

“chan,”

this was your stop, your cozy little apartment, the one you wished seungmin could come into, this time by the front door.

he looked up, and you smiled at him.

“it’s okay,”

he smiled, too, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew that instead of the outcome he thought of getting, by putting your past in front of you suddenly, it wasn’t going to go the way he wanted to.

you love him, still.

your hand hovered over the contact that you hadn't blocked but the message had been left on seen for quite some time. a blank profile picture and a username that you once thought would be tagged in a soft launch.

the last few messages sound desperate.

"y/n… please, sorry, hear me out at least,"

"i miss you, i'm sorry, can we talk, please?"

"y/n…."

that’s all. you remember debating hundreds of times, to text back, to call him, to ask him, to let him apologise. but it didn't end up happening.

a few days after that awkward meeting, it’s a tuesday, and you're so tired of it all already that you're yet again debating dropping out of college. it’s the day of the week when it was particularly hard because they all had engagements or plans for dinner, but you.

maybe you can blame that you've never seen seungmin around on the fact that you were never sure if he was actually around but now that you do know he's around, it seems like every face kind of resembles him.

so when you get out of the library on that particular tuesday evening, anticipating yet another convenience store dinner, you’re too egoistic to admit that you were relieved to see the real seungmin there, even if you have no clue on how to react or respond to the fact that he's standing right there in the same aisle - browsing different types of jam and this seemed to be the only way for you to get some coca cola.

he gives you an awkward smile as he holds two bottles of the jam, there’s strawberry and an orange jam.

"hey," it's a soft one, but you can tell by the tone that it isn't out of a simple obligation for him to say hi, he genuinely does seem to be wanting to talk to you.

you walk to him slowly. "hi, what’s up?"

"can you choose one?" he points to the bottles.

a bit later, you’re sitting inside a restaurant you had frequented for only the first month of you starting uni, quickly growing sick of the same dishes over and over again but since it was a close option, it was doable.

"i told my parents before the dance," you confess, he looks surprised, yes, but it wasn't one of the reactions you imagined, he wasn’t hyper or overly interrogative of you he just nodded.

"well, kind of a similar thing happened for me," he says quietly.

and seungmin explains how he felt like a complete pressure cooker in the days that led upto your breakup and that it finally lost control the day after the dance. he had a complete breakdown and something he always expected, happened.

although his father still doesn’t talk to him and neither does his mother except asking him once in a while about how he’s doing, he actually feels content with himself, all his life he’s done everything his parents wanted but he really couldn’t have lived with himself if he had let them dictate his life here as well. and he’d made a mistake by not speaking up sooner, maybe he would have had you still if he did, but at least eh improvised on it

he hesitates a little when he gets to the last part, and an awkward silence follows, but you’re glad you have food left on your plate so you can pretend to be interested in it.

"so, music, huh. what instrument?"

"piano.."

you smile at the memory, it seems such a long time ago that you met at the auditorium, you were so unaware about the memories you would hold with this person.

"i'm learning the guitar as well,"

"you should play for me sometime,"

you mentally slap yourself for saying that, it was too soon to have ideas for meeting again but it seems like your mouth had a mind of its own. thankfully, seungmin isn't very aware of the debate inside your mind.

"obviously,"

another period of silence follows, in which seungmin grapples with the aspect of asking a question that he isn't sure if he should ask or not, but then gives in, the worst has already happened.

"so, you and chan are a thing?"

you accidentally let out a laugh. ever the curious man, your ex.

"no, no," you shake your head. "i mean i like him, he likes me, we're friends alright, and it helps to have someone who knows his way around, so that's why we hang out,"

"oh, that’s pretty cool. i wish had someone like that,"

seungmin feels so relieved right now that he could break into a dance, he could even grab the waiter by the collar and grind on him. he was just that happy.

as you leave, he points to the opposite direction of where you're heading, "that side's me,"

"alright then i'll see you later,"

but he turns around quick, “hey, wait, y/n,” you give him a questioning look.

“i can play the guitar for you, if you want."

in your more than a year of being together, you’d never seen seungmin’s room, mostly because he was too scared for you to come there although he would like to give an excuse of he didn’t want you to walk alone to and back from his place. but deep down, you did kinda know the reason, you’d have been pretty blind to not.

so when he enters the number on the keypad, you look away. and as he invites you in, he rushes to put a few things into place, straighten the sofa, and take the dirty plates to the sink. there are notes lying around but mostly a guitar, just sitting on the sofa.

“uh, would you like something to drink or eat?”

“did you forget we just had dinner?” you laugh.

“okay, okay, yeah. i’m sorry, i’m just nervous.”

after making you promise to not laugh at any bad notes here and there, he finally starts playing. it’s clear that he is nervous, and he has a certain blush on his face. but you take this moment to scan him. this seungmin compared to the one that you dated, it seemed to be really different. there was an obvious change in the way he carried himself. he was struggling with himself but not in the way that he was before, this time he seemed free. free from carrying his family’s pressure everywhere he went.

he played some taylor swift song from her initial days because he liked the country genre and he’s good at it. why he would think that you would laugh at him was beyond you.

“you’re really good at this, minnie, uh, seungmin.”

it grows awkward as your old nickname for him slips out and he ultimately puts his guitar aside.

“i want to say……” he sighs. “there’s no easy way to say this, but i’m really sorry, y/n, for all the things that happened back then, i can’t skip the accountability because i reallly messed up but believe me when i say i didn’t really mean for it to happen, it was just a really bad time.”

you nod, “it’s, um, alright, i thought about all of it and it’s alright, we were really immature,”

“me more than you,” he comments.

“yeah, but it’s alright, what matters is that you’ve changed, and for the better, look at you playing all these instruments, it’s admirable,”

he blushes a little, “thanks,”

after that one meeting, you’d been texting seungmin, on one excuse or the other. you’d forgotten your scarf that night in his apartment so he suggested you could grab breakfast together and he could hand it over.

or later when you asked him if he wanted to study together for abit, which spoiler, did not end in you both studying because as compared to your school days you didn’t have pressure to absolutely be the best but you could actually enjoy the process.

chan is.. upset, but deep down he did know that he didn’t stand a chance because he could tell that you were never over seungmin, so he gracefully stepped back. and he’s seen you around campus, hanging out with him, and he was happy that you were actually enjoying his company.

“you know what would be really funny now?” seungmin laughs as you’re both sitting on your sofa, you’ve called your friends over to introduce them to seungmin. you’ve been hanging out with him for over a week now and they wanted to know who this new guy was. none of them really knew it yet that he was actually the ex you started crying over when you’ve had too much to drink.

“what?” you ask, opening up a packet of chips meant for later, sit down next to him and then pass it to him.

“well, you could pretend you never dated me in front of your friends,” and his voice drops a little low, “like i did,”

“seungmin,” you place the packet aside and take this chance to do something you’ve wanted to as soon as you saw him again, kiss him. his lips are so gentle, and you’re so, so thankful to the entire universe out there that he exists at the same time as you, and that eventually made his way back to you. and as he kisses you back, you can sense the desperation in his actions, he reaches his hand out to rest at your waist but hesitates, so you place them there.

“i would never pretend about that,” your face is still so close to his. he feels like he could cry, seungmin never really thought he could have you back, he feels relieved right now, he has the world in his palms now. he pulls you in close through the grip he has on your waist.

“i’m never letting you go again,” he whispers in your ear.

and the bell rings.

“is this a bad time?” giselle and ningning look at you suspiciously, “why do you…..?”

as they enter and look at seungmin, the puzzle solves itself, “okay…”

“actually we just thought of something we had to do, so what we’re going to do is leave,” giselle announces, dragging ningning out the door despite your protests to join the party. you also hear her call somi, “change of plans…”

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euphoniumpets · 1 year

Text

NO MOURNERS, NO FUNERALS | CHAPTER ONE

Prompt: ''Run, run, that's all we ever do from our past but it will come back haunting us.'' You paused, staring into the brown eyes that you once had fallen in love with. ''Do you think it'll stop before we even die?''

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x heartrender! reader

Warnings: ptsd, mentions of dead corpses, violence, blood and gore, alcohol, slight minor description to rape to the reader, but not fully.

A/N: season two had me hooked and it was definitly worth the wait! Tag list are still open if some of you want to be tagged.

Taglist: @natsgaygf @lyria-skyfall @crystallizedtime

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten

THERE WAS A LOT that Y/N Brekker had learned about Ketterdam within years of living there in the strange city. It had been far too much information for a girl, simply twelve at the time to learn, but of course, it was easy enough when the first advice she had been given to adapt. That the person that Y/N could no longer be, not that she wished to be that girl anymore as it was too much of a reminder of the before, of everything bad that once happened to her.

Within a matter of days, the once kind girl who still had her innocence and who was scared of the dark became the every thing that everybody warned her about. Now, at seventeen, Y/N Brekker was the kind of person who you would dare to look at when she walked on the streets of Ketterdam.

During her times in Ketterdam, it taught her many things, even if the girl didn't wanted to admit it, but it had. It was anything if it came down to women like her. That woman who could bat their eyelashes and make the men drop their knees at any second. Tell them what they wanted to hear, dropping their secrets without a second thought.

She remembered the first time she arrived in Ketterdam, and remembered her first victim to kill. It wasn't pleasant and she still could hear how their bones and heart beat dropped. She would like to think it was an accident, that she was just trying to protect herself that night, but Kaz would often tell her that they'd deserved it and promised himself that no one would touch you.

Y/N remembered well when she met Kaz and Jordie for the first time. It was a bittersweet memory for her, when she thought back at the old times. She had escaped from the little palace when she was young, her parents tried not to give her to the second army, but it was too late for them to join Y/N in Ketterdam.

Both of her parents was a heartrender, and it was the only gift that Y/N promised herself to cherish it one day, and when the firepox happened, the only ones who did survive the disease was Y/N and Kaz. They both promised each other to rebuild and take back what was theirs.

Thunder boomed over Ketterdam as Y/N walks through the bustling streets, trying to get to the crow club. Her hood blocks from the view as she walks through the shadows and tried not to drag the attention to herself. After a few moments, she slithers from the shadows, removing her hood and strutting into the club.

Upon noticing, the girl noticed that a ceritan friend wasn't guarding the door. Walking inside, a gunshot rings through the club.

Oh, Jesper.

Thinking to herself as she shook her head disapprovingly while the Zemeni boy winks at her before he reached for the money. Before the boy could reach it further, you noticed the familiar crow on the cane at the table. ''No loud noises at the table, Jesper,'' Kaz commented, slightly shaking his head.

''You'll scare of the pigeons,'' He told him. ''Wouldn't that boss,'' Jesper replied as Y/N approached them. ''Shouldn't you be on the door?'' Kaz questioned as he took off his cane and placed it back on the ground. ''Yes, boss,'' Jesper walked away from them while you patted the boy on the shoulder before uttering away.

''You and your birds,'' Y/N replied as Kaz turned to face her. ''I never understood your fascination,'' Y/N commented and tilted her head as she saw the slight smirk forming on his face. ''Yet, you have the crow pin back of your head that I gifted you for our anniversary,'' Kaz remarked, nodding at Y/N who had her hair up as the crow pin that Kaz gifted for her tied back of her hair as an hair accessory.

''I could say the same, admit it, you're liking the cane I brought it for you,'' Y/N teased him, making him chuckle at her comment as Y/N saw Rotty approaching them upstairs. ''Early for an action, innit, Kaz?''

''Mrs. Brekker,'' Rotty greeted you with a nod.

''What do you want, notty?'' Kaz questioned him. ''Someone stole a Dekappel from a merch's private residence last night,'' Rotty replied.

''Is that so?'' Kaz questioned, sharing a look with you. She really tried not to snort at his comment. ''It's a painting, a landscape of Ravka, the fold, oil parchment,''

''I know who Dekappel is,'' Kaz snapped. ''Well, he don't do nudes, so, I've never heard of him,'' You wrinkled your face in disgust. ''Go get it, Rotty,'' Rotty reached into his coat and pulled out a miniature painting of it. ''Worth something like a 10,000 kruge,''

Kaz takes one look at it before looking through the club. ''The thief had to get past four roving guards, high fences, padlocked doors, and a security system designed by one of them Grisha witches,''

''Fabrikator,'' You corrected him. ''Whatever, the point is, either it was a group effort or a ghost,'' You smirked, knowing it was her job due last night that Kaz had assigned her to.

''Why does this concern me?'' Y/N heard Kaz question next to her. ''I've got a buyer lined up, legit money, so, if you hear a whisper,'' Rotty winks and clinks his tounge. ''Who can hear a whisper in here?''

''I wonder where that painting is,'' You replied with a smirk forming on her face as they walked away from Rotty. They climb up to the stairs and into their office that they shared together at the crow club. Kaz holds the door open for Y/N before closing and locking it in. Kaz turned and sends a smirk to the painting.

''Yes, it is a strange thing, who would be able to pull that off,''

''Uhm, me?'' You questioned and tilted your head toward Kaz. ''You're the one who stole it,'' Kaz replied and rolled his eyes. ''It was an easy job anyways,'' You remarked, walking to the bed and sat on it.

You doesn't pay the attention to Kaz as he took his gloves off as he began to wash his hand. The room was silent before you heard a thump appear. Another heartbeat and you guessed it was Inej.

''Hello, Inej,'' Kaz greeted her. ''What information do you have for me tonight?'' Kaz questioned her as you and Inej shared a nod of greeting. ''A lead on a job, a big one, enough to change lives,'' Inej replied before taking off her mask.

''It doesn't take much to change someone's life in the barrel,'' Kaz stated. ''It's true, a little goes a long way here,'' You replied as she turned her head to look at the petite girl.

''How about a million kruge?'' Inej spoke, making Kaz froze and look up at her in the mirror. You knew that Kaz would do anything for the money. ''What's the name?'' Kaz questioned her.

''Dressen, a wealthy merchant,'' She informed.

''I've heard of him, he could affort it,'' You told Kaz as their gaze locked with each other. ''The question is, what's worth a million kruge to him?'' Kaz questioned. ''He's looking for a crew willing across the fold into East Ravka and bringing back something,''

Kaz turned to look at Inej and you narrowed her eyes with curiosity. What could be so important that they were willing to across the fold?

''The Fold?'' You asked her. ''Well, of course, certian death pays a million,'' Inej looks down as Kaz turned arount to face at the mirror again. ''He didn't say to what he wants nicked?''

''No,'' Inej responded, still looking at the ground. ''But, he's taking meetings, tonight, starting at midnight,'' inej informed them. ''Tell me you follow him,'' Kaz responded and looked at her, making Inej slightly roll her eyes. ''Of course she did, you always underestimate her, Kaz,'' You commented.

''He brought someone in from a ship, took a way back to his house into the Garden District to avoid attention, I would have followed him inside, but Dreesen hired some privaty security, I would have had use to my knives to get closer,'' Inej explained with a smirk.

''Private security?''

''It must be something big if he needs that,'' You muttered to yourself, making Kaz nod at your statement.

''A Zemeni man, I think his name is Tendo, you know him?'' Inej questioned.

''Yes, he gambles at Pekka's clubs, so, I won't have leverage on him, but Pekka will,'' Kaz replied. ''And how do you plan on getting that leverage?'' You questioned, raising an eyebrow toward Kaz. ''I'll find a way, you know that I always does,'' Kaz remarked as he walks over to his desk.

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imashoe69420 · 1 year

Text

I Still Need You

Rise!Leo X Injured!Reader (Part 2)

Warnings ⚠️: strong language, mentions of trauma

Part 1 here

================================

Anger—no, malice suddenly consumed Leo as he stared daggers into the back of Donnie’s head. Who the fuck did he think he was? “They were mine before they were yours”. (Y/N) had always been his. And why did he feel the need to bring it up at this moment in time? What was his point in saying that?

Malice soon took control of his body as he flew past the glass doors, charging at his older twin.

•••

Before Donnie could turn around, Leo struck the back of his head, his goggles flying off. Glass cascaded as the lenses shattered against the concrete floor.

The purple clad turtle spun around, pushing Leo away before charging at him. In his mind, this fight was a long time awaiting. He had always somewhat hated his brother for taking away his friend the way he did. In the back of his mind, though, he knew this fight was stupid and wouldn’t get them anywhere. But he also knew that Leo wasn’t going to back down.

At this point, Leo didn’t care if the fight was stupid or not. There was one thing keeping him from his partner, and that was Donnie. And to claim ownership over them—whether it was a current feeling or not—pissed him off beyond belief.

The twins scuffled for a bit until Donnie eventually landed a blow, punching his brother across the face. Leo exclaimed as he forced the scientist onto his back, straddling him and raising his fist up. Donnie had never seen that look on his brother’s face: the look of genuine hate. He wanted to hurt him.

Leo huffed in an attempt to catch his breath as he stared down at his brother. The only way he could describe his face was pure contempt. Neither of the twins had acted like this before, especially over a person. This wasn’t normal.

The blue clad turtle’s expression softened, slowly lowering his fist. He opened his mouth to say something, but pounding footsteps quickly neared the two.

“Leo, what the hell are you doing?!” Their oldest brother shoved the younger twin to the side before lifting Donnie to his feet. He was worse off: blood trickled down from his nose and his face was swollen, sure to form into bruises in the morning. Leo only had a swollen cheek from the punch and a small cut on his forehead from Donnie’s claws.

Raph boomed over to Leo and grabbed the top of his shell just above his shoulder, hauling him to his feet. “Are you fucking brain dead? I’m seriously asking because you think we’re all against you when everybody here has been trying to help you and (Y/N)! You’ve been stressing me out, Donnie, and Mikey with your melodrama, and now you’re fighting your own family?! You’re way outta line, Leo!”

Avoiding his stern gaze, Leo groaned, but didn’t say anything back. What could he say? Like Raph had said, he lost control and taken out his frustrations on his family. He just made their future interactions extremely awkward and tense.

~~~

Another week passed.

Leo stopped sleeping at the Med Bay entrance. He hadn’t talked to any of his brothers either.

He was ashamed of the way he acted; of the way he completely disrespected his entire family over a person he only met two years ago. Once again, Leo was blaming himself for everybody’s woes, but Raph had validated them:

“You’ve been stressing me out, Donnie, and Mikey with your melodrama, and now you’re fighting your own family?! You’re way outta line, Leo!”

The words weighed him down like drenched clothes. His heart crawl into his stomach. Deep down, the turtle had realized that his attitude was hurting the team. But he didn’t care at the time. (Y/N) was the only thing on his mind.

Suddenly, Leo’s self-deprecation was interrupted by the oldest of the four clearing his throat. The blue clad turtle glanced up at him for a split second, then returning his to the floor.

Raphael sighed at his little brother’s demeanor. He sat next to him on the edge of his bed, grumbling at the mass amount of empty soda cans and food wrappers scattered about the room. The two sat in silence for several minutes. Usually, Raph would know what to say when he and his brothers were feuding, but this was different.

None of his brothers had ever drawn blood. Maybe the occasional bruise or light scratch, but nothing more. Before the oldest had thrown Leo against the wall, his expression was something out of a horror movie. For a moment, he was scared. Scared of his own brother.

Back at the lab, Donnie retold the story of how it all began. The red clad turtle didn’t completely understand Donnie, Leo, and (Y/N)’s dynamic, but he understood where both twins were coming from. Sort of.

Strangely, though, the scientist didn’t seem angry at Leo. He was more angry with himself for engaging in something as childish as a physical fight with his brother. And the reasoning? Even more childish.

Finally, Raph gazed in Leo’s direction. “We’re not mad at you, little brother.”

Leo sucked his teeth, not responding.

“I’m serious.” Raph said quickly as he laid a hand on his shoulder. “We never were. We just… didn’t understand. I didn’t understand. What you did wasn’t right but—”

“You don’t think I know that?” Leo scoffed.

The red clad turtle waited a few seconds before continuing. “—but… we know you’re worried about (Y/N). So… you can come see them now. We think they’re stable enough.”

Leo’s eyes lit up as he turned to make eye contact with Raph. “Wait—really?”

When the oldest nodded, the twin wasted no time scrambling to his feet and making his way towards the Med Bay.

~~~

Inside the wing, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. directed Leo to the door of (Y/N)’s room. As he lifted his hand to the door handle, hushed voices from the interior.

“You don’t have to keep checking up on me, Don.” (Y/N) assured him. “I feel a lot better now.”

“I do. You just woke up. I have to look for abnormalities.”

“Yeah, but…” they sighed and dropped the subject. “I wanna see Leo.”

Donnie copied their sigh. “He should be here in a bit. I sent Raph to go talk to him.”

There’s a brief silence before (Y/N) said, “did something happen with you guys while I was asleep?”

Leo chose then to enter the room. He already didn’t want to tell them about the fight, much less Donnie’s perspective.

(Y/N)’s head swiveled towards the entrance of the room. The bandage across their nose and the ones wrapped around their head didn’t deter the smile forming on their face.

With a quickly glance at the two love birds, Donnie quickly exited the room.

Now alone, Leo walked over to (Y/N)‘s side and gently laid a hand on theirs. It took everything in him to not jump on top of them and hug them tightly, wailing about how much he missed them and thought they were going to die.

He instead lifted his partner’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against it. “I missed you, babe.”

“I missed you, too.” (Y/N) shifted in the gurney to sit up taller. They then laughed a bit. “You look awful.”

Leo chuckled, tears threatening to spill. “Not as awful as you. I’m not the one in the hospital bed.”

(Y/N) giggled before going into a coughing fit. “Ugh, and it sucks. It’s so boring. You should sneak me out.”

“And have Donnie and Raph on my ass again? No way.” Leo pressed their hand to his face, smirking down at his partner.

A slight frown adorned (Y/N)’s visage. “What happened with you guys? You’ve all been acting weird. And where’s Mikey?”

Again, Leo didn’t want to tell them what had happened. (Y/N) was probably one of the most selfless people he’d ever met, so he knew they would be upset if they knew that the brothers were fighting over them.

“We were just worried about you.” The turtle didn’t exactly answer their question. “And I’m not sure where he’s at, but he’ll visit you when he gets the chance.”

(Y/N) didn’t like that response, but they had other things to say.

“I’m sorry, Leo. For not listening to you.”

The blue turtle’s eyes widen. “What…?”

They avoided his gaze and exhaled, their eyes becoming glossy. “I should’ve stayed underground. I wouldn’t be like this if I just listened.”

Exactly, Leo thought, you wouldn’t. But that wouldn’t be productive nor helpful to them in this moment. “Hey, don’t think like that. You’re okay now, and that’s all that matters.”

(Y/N) grinned at their boyfriend before he pressed a kiss against their lips.

~~~

After leaving (Y/N) to rest, Leo sets out to find Donnie. He hated the tension between him and his twin and had to put an end to it. Donnie had kept his promise. (Y/N) isn’t dead. In fact, they’re alive and well. And it’s all thanks to him. He soon finds him in his lab working on another invention.

“Donnie.” Leo called out to him.

With a long sigh, Donnie turned his head to face his brother. His expression was the same as usual with a hint of annoyance. The older twin didn’t say anything.

Leo slowly made his way to his brother’s side. “Dee… I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I took out my anger on you. That was just… it was fucked up.”

The purple turtle unhurriedly glanced at his younger brother. “Yeah, it was.”

The few seconds felt like hours to Leo, so he somewhat repeated himself. “Donnie, you’re my family. My brother. My twin. I should’ve trusted you. I mean, look at them now. They’re fine and that’s because of you.”

“Yes,” the scientist eventually turned his body towards his twin, “it is. But I get it. I was worried about them, too. And I shouldn’t have said that about them to you: the whole ‘mine vs yours’ situation. I just…” he sighed shakily, “I just miss them.”

Leo nodded with a hum. “Yeah. I know how you feel now, but I never wanted to keep them away from you—or anybody for that matter. I was… I was being selfish. And I’m sorry, Dee. I’m really sorry.”

As if on cue, tears began to fall from Donnie’s eyes. That was all he needed: an apology. His tears triggered Leo’s and he pulled his older brother into a firm hug.

The twins then silently pledged to each other that they would never let anyone or anything come between them ever again.

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