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starlight-loki · 3 years

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Precautionary Surveillance (Loki x Reader)

Or, That Time You and Loki Became Friends

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: none :)

A/N: this is platonic (and gender neutral! :D )

As this is my first imagine, I kind of just wanted to establish how the reader first meets Loki, but I’ve got plenty more fluff in the works! ;)

also this takes place post-Ragnarok, but Infinity War doesn’t exist here, shHHHH

Despite the long list of risks and expectations that came with living with the Avengers in their compound, you never thought that babysitting Loki would be included. And yet, a mere two weeks after having moved into the compound, Tony sheepishly approached you with the news.

He didn’t word-for-word call it ‘babysitting’ of course, but you knew it was definitely implied.

“Think of it as... precautionary surveillance.” Tony had explained to you that morning as he packed a small backpack, supposedly containing enough supplies to last for a week-long mission. “Or if that’s too much, just be normal roommates. But check in on him every few hours. Make sure he’s not destroying anything. And don’t let him go out. Or to my lab. Or Bruce’s. Or the roof-”

“Okay, I get it Tony,” you rolled your eyes as you heaved out a sigh. “You want me to babysit Loki.”

Tony shrugged, and patted your shoulder empathetically before zipping up his backpack. “Your words, kid. Not mine. Like I said, it’s just precautionary surveillance, we’ll be back before you know it.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just bring him along with you!” You protested, throwing your hands up in the air. “His fighting skills and abilities would be really useful for your mission, you know that right?”

You were fine with the fact that Tony and Steve weren’t confident enough in your fighting abilities to bring you along on missions just yet -- frankly, you were completely happy staying behind and burying your nose in a book. But now Tony wanted you to babysit Loki, going so far as asking you to log any ‘suspicious activity’ from the god. You thought the entire thing was ridiculous.

“You know why, Y/N.” Tony began sternly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and starting towards the quinjet hangar. He was walking briskly, and you scowled as you had to practically run after him. “The New York Incident? The two-hundred or so times he’s betrayed Thor? That time he stuck his dad in an old folks home here and just paraded around Asgard in disguise for two years?”

“New York was nearly ten years ago!” You protested. “Look at him now, all he does is putter around the compound in sweatpants because you won’t let him out-”

Tony sighed loudly, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Look, I know you’re new here and you mean well, but we don’t trust him Y/N. Thor dragged him here because Asgard’s gone and there’s nowhere else for them to go, but Loki is not one of us. It’s going to be a damn long time before any of us think anything different of him.”

You glowered at Tony, fighting the tiny glow of anger that sparked in your heart when you heard him talk about Loki like that.

You had stolen glances at Loki last week when he thought no one else was looking, and you knew he was far from the dysfunctional maniac who tried to take over New York all those years ago. Sure, the dysfunctional part may still remain, but he was far from a maniac -- you could see that in his features when he sat on the couch alone that day, flipping through a small worn book.

He looked... lost. Empty almost, as if any possibility of a joyful life had been stripped from him. It hurt your heart to see someone sit with their own melancholy the way Loki did. The fact that no one else in the Compound trusted him -- evident from the fact that you were being put on babysitting duty this instant -- didn’t make things any better.

“Take care of yourself, kid.” Tony said, pulling you in for a fairly awkward one-armed hug. “Keep an eye on Loki, but don’t do anything stupid.”

You frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Just... keep your distance from him.”

Tony’s words brought the image of Loki sitting alone in sadness back to the front of your mind, and you decided right then and there that you were going to do exactly the opposite of what Tony was suggesting.

The first day felt like an eternity. Loki remained in his room with the door shut, and with no one else to chat with and pass the time, time seemed to crawl at an eerily slow pace.

You made pasta for dinner. You figured the sound of pots, pans, and kitchen utensils clanging every now and then as you cooked would summon the lonely Asgardian out of his room to eat at the very least, and you couldn’t help the little sting of disappointment that appeared when you finished your meal as alone as you had been earlier.

After placing your own bowl in the sink, you grabbed Loki’s portion you had set aside and padded down the hall to his room. You tried to ignore the slight tremble in your hand as you knocked on his door.

“Loki?” You asked gently. “You there?”

You were greeted with a faint shuffling noise, but otherwise there was nothing but silence.

“I made you dinner. I haven’t seen you all day, you must be hungry... um... I mean, you don’t have to eat of course if you don’t want to, but I’ll just... I’ll leave this here at your door if you want it. No pressure.”

You felt fire rush to your cheeks as you cursed yourself silently for rambling, and carefully set the bowl of pasta on the floor.

“If you want anything,” you added quickly in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. “More food, tea, some company... I’m in the other room.”

You stood frozen at Loki’s door for a moment, waiting for any sort of response. Earning nothing but more silence, you nodded to yourself before turning on your heel and heading back for the kitchen.

You looked back over your shoulder before you rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and the pasta bowl was gone. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

The second and third day passed much like the first. If it weren’t for the fact that Loki was constantly on your mind, it would’ve felt like you had the entire place to yourself. You would have enjoyed the quiet, but there was a part of you that couldn’t stop worrying about Loki.

After the god failed to leave his room once again, you brought dinner to his door which was hastily accompanied by another short little babble of an invitation to join you in the living room if he wished. Just like day one, you were greeted with silence and a meal that vanished out of the hall just before you turned the corner.

On the fourth day, you couldn’t get Loki out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Was he lonely? Bored? Did he sleep the entire day? Did he even sleep at all? The rooms in the Compound were just about the same: spacious, yet minimal in decoration. Everyone got a TV and a small bookshelf in the corner, but that was about it. Judging by the fact that Tony and the rest of the Avengers weren’t allowing Loki to leave the Compound, you figured he probably didn’t have much for entertainment.

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you dashed off to your beloved little bookstore in the city. You ransacked the shelves for anything you felt Loki would’ve liked, as well as books you adored and would’ve wholeheartedly recommended to anyone else. If Loki was going to spend all day in his room, he deserved to have new books to keep him company, at the very least.

Two hours later you returned home, your shoulder aching from the countless books that were weighing you down in the best way, and to your surprise you found Loki with his back to you in the kitchen.

Was he... doing the dishes for you?

You dropped your tote bag of books to the ground in surprise, and Loki flinched almost imperceptibly at the dull thud that echoed throughout the open space of the Compound.

“Hi,” You managed breathlessly as the god turned and looked at you with wide eyes for the briefest second. You blinked, and just like that Loki had regained his cool composure. “You’ve finally come out of your room.”

Loki opened his mouth to reply, his eyes scanning the room as he searched for an excuse. After a moment of silence, he sighed.

“Thank you for the meals. I appreciate it.”

You took off your coat and hung it on the chair as you approached him. Your heart sank ever so slightly as you caught Loki take the smallest step back.

“Of course, I mean... we all gotta eat right?” You laughed quietly and looked away as you ran a hand through your hair. “You don’t have to clean up, I can do that.”

“It was the least I could do in return.”

The silence that grew between the two of you seemed to amplify with every passing second. Loki nodded, almost out of resignation, and began to walk back to his room without a word.

Now was your chance, if you wanted to make him feel welcome like you had hoped to.

“Wait!” Your voice came out more as a squeak and you tried your best to ignore the fire that rose to your cheeks. “I, uh, I got these for you.”

As you bent down to retrieve your fallen bag of books, you heard quiet careful steps as Loki approached you cautiously. He kept his distance, but leaned a little closer to you as you began laying all the books out on the table for him to see.

“I picked out a few books I’ve read and love dearly. I figured you could give them a try. And... I, uh, saw you reading Shakespeare last week, so I thought you might like these two.” You gestured to the novels closest to him. “They’re Ancient Greek tragedies.”

You glanced at Loki, and noticed how he picked up Oedipus Rex and began flipping through the pages carefully, as if the book were to vanish from his hands at any moment.

“I’ve never read this one before,” Loki mused quietly. Your heart skipped a beat as his steady gaze moved to meet your eyes. “When would you like me to return these to you?”

You blinked in surprise. “They’re for you to keep.” You smiled. “I bought them for you.”

You watched as gratitude, then confusion, then what almost looked shame flash across Loki’s features. He almost seem to clutch the book tighter in his grip.

“...Why?”

You pulled out the chair that you were leaning against and sat down with a sigh as you looked up at Loki.

“I don’t like how everyone’s been treating you.” You admitted quietly.

“So this is out of pity?” Loki asked cooly, nodding at the books on the table with narrowed eyes.

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head rapidly. “No, Loki, that wasn’t my intention at all. I mean, I’ve only been here two weeks and I could see immediately that everyone keeps their distance from you. You’re not allowed on missions-”

“Neither are you.” Loki cut in. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“Yeah, but I’m the weakest link at the moment. I don’t count.” You replied quickly, trying your best to ignore the intrigue on Loki’s face as he gazed at you. “I saw you last week, reading your book. You looked so lonely. I thought maybe you just wanted some space, but I’ve noticed how the others treat you. Tony and everyone else, they leave you out of everything! They don’t try to include you in conversations at dinner, you wear the same two pairs of clothes everyday because no one’s bothered to get you any decent clothes besides sweatpants. Hell, Tony kept me off this mission to babysit you and it makes me so mad! You’re an adult! You deserve your own freedom, Loki!”

You slammed your hand down on the table in frustration, and winced as your words replayed in your head. You definitely went overboard this time. You should’ve just given Loki the books and left.

You were certain Loki was going to retreat back to his room as he moved away from you and around the table, but to your surprise, he sat down in the chair across from you, his hands clasped carefully together.

“Perhaps Stark is right, this is what I deserve.” He said quietly, breaking the silence that resided between the two of you. “I haven’t exactly been... welcoming to anyone.”

You shook your head. “You lost Asgard, your family... Thor brought you here with the intention of this being your new home. The least everyone could is treat you like a person, not a hostage. This isn’t a prison. You deserve so much more than that.”

“They don’t want me around.” Loki said simply.

“I do.” You held his gaze unwaveringly, and reached out to place your hand gently over his. To your surprise, he didn’t pull away. “I want you around. You matter to me.”

Loki sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as he took in your words.

“Thank you.” He spoke slowly. “Your words -- and your actions -- mean more than anything Stark or anyone else has done in the time I’ve been here.”

You smiled in response, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before pushing his books towards him.

“You’ve got plenty of things to do while you’re in your room now.” You grinned nodding towards the books on the table. Anyone else would’ve missed it, but you caught Loki return your smirk for a split second.

“I think I would prefer to read my books out here... with company.”

The following day was nothing like the others. To your surprise, Loki greeted you with a small smile from his spot on the couch as you trudged bleary-eyed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“You look tired.” He remarked quietly as you began searching the cupboards for something to eat. You managed a shrug.

“I don’t sleep that great most nights.” You admitted. You heard Loki get up from the couch, setting his book down on the coffee table gently before approaching you. He still kept some distance -- the kitchen counter did a good job of separating the two of you -- but he leaned in, almost grateful to be in the presence of someone who truly saw him.

“Me neither.” Loki chuckled. “Thor sleeps like the dead, but I rarely sleep well. That’s how my love for books began, actually.”

“Me too!” You exclaimed excitedly. “I’d stay up reading till 1 or 2 AM some nights as a kid. I’d have to use a flashlight and hide under the covers so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.”

That earned a genuine laugh from Loki, whose smile suddenly began to look like sunshine in your eyes.

“I used magic to see in the dark, but hiding under the covers was the only way I could read at night without waking Thor up.”

“You shared a room with Thor?”

Loki nodded, scoffing a little. “My mother thought it would help reinforce our bond as brothers. A lot of good that did.”

You leaned in towards him, your posture mirroring his as you rested your arms against the kitchen counter.

“Thor still loves you.” You said quietly, a small smile touching your lips for a brief moment. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure he does.”

“No, really. He wouldn’t have brought you here to live with him if he didn’t. You guys got here before me of course, but I’m sure he had to pull a lot of strings to get Tony to agree to have you live in the Compound.”

There was that silence again, like the day before, settling down gently between the two of you. You lowered your gaze to your hands.

“Sorry. I meddle too much. I should stop.”

This time, it was Loki who placed his hands over yours gently.

“No,” he replied softly. “You speak your mind, I admire that. It shows you have strength.”

“I don’t always feel strong.” You admitted quietly.

“Only the foolish admit their own strength.” Loki whispered.

“...Does that mean Tony’s a fool?”

“Your words, not mine.”

A laugh bubbled up out of you at Loki’s words, and as your eyes met his, you noticed the loneliness you had seen before was gone.

In their place was the warmth of a thousand suns.

The two of you stood there, hands intertwined almost as if to keep the other afloat. Loki’s hands made yours seem small, but his were warm and soft and surprisingly gentle.

You closed you eyes, taking as much of this moment in as you could.

“I wish they’d let you outside.” You sighed quietly. “There’s so many shops and restaurants I think you’d like. You’d love Central Park, too.”

Loki frowned. “When is everyone due back?”

“In two days. Why?”

You got a smirk in response. “Let’s go now.”

You let out a surprised laugh at Loki’s suggestion. It thrilled you to see this side of him.

“We can’t! Tony’s got cameras around the building, he’ll see us if we leave.”

Butterflies filled your insides for a brief moment as Loki suddenly winked at you. He raised his hand, which had begun to glow with a green hue, before snapping his fingers. Green sparks flashed briefly from the windows as he did so.

“I believe Stark will be needing to replace his cameras once everyone returns. Where do you suggest we go first?”

#loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki hc #loki headcanon #the avengers #tony stark #platonic #loki x gender neutral reader #loki oneshot #marvel imagine #mcu loki #the avengers imagine #thor ragnarok

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

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illicit affairs (Spencer Reid one-shot)

This is wayyy overdue! It’s just been sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to edit her, but she’s finally here. This is very loosely based on Taylor Swift’s song of the same title. And it’s 100% me writing out some feelings through fanfiction, so it’s also loosely based on true events. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Spencer have been “dating” without a label for a few months now, until you witness something that has you wondering if it was too good to be true (as always).

Warnings: it’s so dramatic. Angst with a happy ending!

Spencer has no fucking clue what he did.

Well, to be more accurate, Spencer has no idea if he even did anything at all.

One second the two of you were acting as normal as ever, attached at the hip and nothing less, and the next you’re barely able to look at him. You won’t speak to him, you insist you’re fine, and you ask him to leave you alone -- please.

A new case comes and he thinks things will fall back into their rightful place. He expects you to sit with him on the plane, but you choose the farthest seat away from him. He expects you’ll be paired with him when he says he’ll go to the local station to work on victimology, but instead you agree to Morgan’s offer to look at the crime scene.

He’s desperate. He’s a so-called genius, and he’s losing his mind.

“Morgan, help me out here, man,” Spencer pleads, cornering Morgan when he’s getting a coffee. He’s just returned from the crime scene with you, but of course, you’ve ducked away from Spencer.

Derek’s eyebrows raise. Slowly, he turns around, eyeing the desperate genius. “You’re asking for my advice?”

“She won’t talk to me,” Spencer whispers, eyes cutting to you, but only for a second. He doesn’t want you to think he’s creepily staring at you all the time. So far, you haven’t caught him (that he knows of).

“Well, what did you do?” Morgan asks like the answer should be blatantly obvious.

“I don’t know!”

“Alright, let me rephrase that for you,” Morgan’s tone is bordering on teasing, but he can’t help it. The resident genius of the BAU is having trouble talking to a woman. Who knew? “Have you done anything that would lead her to believe you’re not interested in her anymore?”

“What? No!”

“Think, Reid,” Morgan replies, tipping his cup of coffee in the air. “And when you figure it out, apologize.”

He leaves without another word. Morgan joins you and Emily back in the room where the team has set up base. You share a particularly heated look with Morgan, but he shakes his head, letting you know he didn’t betray your confidence. You relax.

Spencer doesn’t know this, but earlier when you were riding with Morgan to the crime scene, you confided in him.

It had been completely accidental. Something about car rides brings out the need to ask for advice. Maybe it’s the fact that there’s the road to focus on, or the case to segway into, you don’t know. But what you do know, is that when you confided in Morgan, he shook his head, and called Spencer a dumbass.

“Hypothetically,” you had begun, and Morgan remembers wondering if you were going to talk about the case, but you didn’t. “If you’ve been talking-- flirting with a guy and going on a few dates over the past few months -- but there’s no label -- but so if you’ve been doing all this and then you suddenly see him outside his apartment hugging another woman -- like arms around her waist kind of deal, face in her neck...what does that mean?”

Morgan had nearly slammed on the brakes. Reid? A two-timer? He never would’ve guessed. The kid could barely get his words out when he first met you, and now he’s playing you?

“Well, hypothetically,” Morgan played into your game. “I’d be suspicious. Personally, I don’t just hug any woman like that if I don’t have other intentions,” he shook his head. What you’re describing is intimate, especially for Reid. “You’re right to think something else is going on.”

“Who said it was about me?”

Morgan looked at you with his usual knowing stare. Sometimes you forget you’re all profilers. You’ve made deals not to profile one another, but you’re sure it still happens. You all have another silence agreement to never voice it aloud, unless needed.

“Fine,” you caved, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know, I just-- I was going to drop off his stupid jacket that he left in my car the night before, and I saw him hugging her right on his doorstep and she kissed his cheek and I just-- I bolted. I don’t know.” You had let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought he was different.”

“If it helps,” Morgan shrugged, “I’ll kick his ass.” He might protect Reid like a mother hen, but he’s not afraid to give him a hard time, either.

“No, no, don’t,” you groaned. “I’m just gonna keep my distance. No sense in putting effort into something that clearly is never going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, don’t talk like that,” Morgan said. You used to talk that way all the time when you first started at the BAU, but it slowly died out the more you hung out with Spencer. Morgan connected the dots, but never told you.

“You know I’ve never been in a relationship?”

This time, Morgan did slam on the brakes.

“What?”

“Never,” you shook your head, motioning for him to keep driving. “Not one. They all fall through. I started thinking something was wrong with me, you know?” Morgan gave you another look, his sad, big brother one this time. “But then Spencer and I started getting closer, he took me on what I thought, I guess, were a couple of dates. I mean, he paid and drove and walked me to my door and all that cute shit. That’s a date, right? I mean, he never kissed me on the lips, but it’s Spencer.” You didn’t even look to see Morgan’s reaction, but he was nodding. “I started to think maybe it was never me, maybe it was the guys--”

“It was the guys,” Morgan argued. “Alright? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you. It would be a damn honor. Don’t let that head of yours convince you otherwise.”

You shook your head, the crime scene rapidly approaching. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

You were out of the car and introducing yourself to the police on the scene before Morgan could even blink.

Morgan can only hope Reid had a good reason for having a woman at his door and hugging her, and letting her kiss his cheek. Reid doesn’t give hugs to just anyone, let alone accept a kiss, so whoever it was, obviously she was more than a friend.

The thought of Reid being a player makes Morgan smile. On the one hand, he’s a little bit proud. On the other, he’s pissed. It’s one thing to have one night stands with women who are into that sort of thing, but it’s another to drag someone along -- someone like you, someone who is too good, who deserves better than that.

Morgan had thought about telling you to just talk to Spencer, in hopes that there was a good reason for what you saw, but you’ve made it painfully clear over the past two weeks that you’d rather keep your distance instead.

So, he lets you. He can’t say that he blames you, really. Not after what you told him. He can only hope Spencer will figure this one out before it’s too late.

+++

After the case is closed and you’re back home, you immediately head for the shower. Cases are exhausting enough, but avoiding Spencer made it worse. Going from being attached at the hip to trying to be anywhere except in the same room as him took a toll on you. Not to mention, dodging everyone else’s worried looks. Morgan is the only one you’ve confided in, but that hasn’t stopped Hotch, Emily, JJ, and even Garcia from constantly asking if you’re alright.

Once you’re finished showering and in your pajamas, you head back to the living area. Spencer’s forgotten cardigan lays on the arm of your couch, lonely.

You know you shouldn’t, but you shrug it on anyway. No harm in wearing it. Not like he misses it. He probably has a hundred others.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, hoping it’ll soothe your nerves and help you drift off to sleep before your mind has the time to make you think of Spencer.

Too late.

Sighing heavily, you place the kettle on the stove. You hum a song while you’re at it, knowing that you’re being endlessly dramatic.

It’s not like you had sex with Spencer. Hell, the most the two of you did was hold hands and you kissed his cheek. He kissed your head once, though you think it was an accident.

Still, there was never a label. Why are you so upset?

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

It’s stupid, really, how hung up you are over this. A few dates don’t exactly mean anything at all. Flirting nowadays can mean nothing, too. You don’t understand any of it.

You cup your cheek gently, foolishly wondering what it would feel like if Spencer’s hand was there instead -- maybe even as he kissed you, but you don’t want to get too carried away. It’s not like anything will ever happen now.

And you know damn well/for you I would ruin myself/a million little times

Maybe you just need more time. This was the first time in a long time that you had let your guard down, let yourself go on dates. So many times it had all gone wrong, so you closed yourself off and focused on your career. You thought since you were stable at the BAU that now it was okay.

You thought Spencer -- Spencer Reid, of all people, you really thought he would’ve been different.

Maybe it’s just your type. Maybe that’s who you attract. The men who don’t want anything serious and never will. They’re stuck in Peter Pan mode. You must be Wendy. It must be a curse.

The kettle boils and you cut the burner off, fixing your tea.

You’re just walking back to the living room when there’s a knock on your door. You freeze, your panicked mind expecting the absolute worst, until you hear Spencer’s voice.

“Y/N?” He calls out. “It’s Spencer-- You probably knew that already.”

You smile into your tea, but you make no move for the door. You want-- no, you ache to let him inside, but you know it’s a bad idea. He’s probably here to ask if you’re alright, and you don’t have the energy to answer him. He’s probably going to go back to his girlfriend after this. You really don’t know that you can handle a face-to-face rejection.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer says again, pleading. He knocks once more, quietly. “I see lights are on, so I’m just going to...assume you can hear me.”

You walk a step closer. You don’t want to let him inside, but maybe you can listen. That won’t be too bad, right?

“Y/N, I’m...I’m sorry.”

Oh, tears. Stupid, stupid tears. You wipe them on the sleeve of his cardigan, glad that they’re at least falling quietly right now.

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m...I’m just sorry and I miss you and it’s killing me that you won’t even look at me. I…” Spencer pauses, and you walk closer, biting on the sleeve to keep from letting out a sob. “I’m sorry, I don’t… Please, just tell me what I did.”

You press your back to the door, sliding down until you hit the floor. You keep your knees against your chest and set the mug of tea down next to you. The noise causes Spencer’s ears to perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Spencer,” you barely speak loud enough for him to hear. “It’s me.”

“Please, tell me what I did,” he pleads, voice breaking. Is he crying, too? “I don’t know what it was, but I’ll fix it. Or I’ll try-- Please, let me try.”

“Spencer…” You sigh, tears falling down your cheeks with no restraint. “Be honest with me, are you seeing someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob. So many times you’ve had this conversation, the rejection, finding out you weren’t the one they wanted. Too many times. But none of them ever hurt this bad. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Spencer nearly falls over. Why on earth would you think that? “What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Don’t lie to me, please,” you groan, pressing your hand to your forehead. This is pathetic. You shouldn’t be showing him how upset you are. And through a door, no less. Can you get any more dramatic?

“What are you talking about?”

“I was at your apartment, Spencer,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your cheeks. “I went to drop off this stupid cardigan of yours and you-- You were hugging a woman outside your door and I saw it and I saw her kiss you--”

You cut yourself off, choking on another sob, and Spencer sighs. He understands now.

“Open the door. Please,” he says.

“Why?” You reply quietly. “If you’re just going to reject me, please, just do it through the door.” The last thing you want is for him to see you like this when he tells you he’s seeing someone else, that he didn’t even know you liked him, and so on.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he says softly. “Please.”

You know it’s a bad idea, but how much worse can things get?

You stand to your feet and open the door, careful of the mug of tea on the floor. Spencer’s heart drops at the sight of you. Tear stains on your cheeks, red eyes, your quivering lip as you try to hold things together, and...his cardigan hanging off your shoulders. Somehow the last tops it all off, sends a strike of pain right to his heart.

You wipe some more tears away with the sleeve, motioning for him to start talking. “Go on.”

“She’s an old friend. We did kiss before, once. But she’s not my girlfriend. She was in town and wanted to stop by to tell me she’s getting married...to her girlfriend of three years.”

You nod slowly. For some reason, that doesn’t even make you feel better. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Spencer asks, hopeful tone and all. “Are we okay?”

“What are we, Spencer?” You ask, eyes still watering. “I can’t keep going on the way we were going, you know? It’s agonizing, I just want to know what’s going on in your head.”

Spencer smiles softly. “I want you to...to be my girlfriend.”

Your ears are deceiving you. They must be. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I thought it was obvious,” he chuckles. “That’s one of the things I talked to her about -- her name’s Jess. She invited me-- us to the wedding. I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend-- I still want to, I mean, if you’ll have me.”

More tears spring to your eyes and Spencer’s heart jumps, thinking he did something completely wrong.

“What happened? Did I say something?”

“No,” you shake your head. “God.” You wipe at your cheeks before turning and retreating back into your apartment. Spencer has no choice but to follow you.

He spots your mug of tea and places it on the coffee table as he shuts your front door gently with his foot.

“I’m so...stupid,” you mutter, jumping when you see he’s followed you inside. He’s not unwelcome here by any means, you’re just an idiot. A huge idiot.

“You’re not stupid,” he argues. “I wish you would’ve talked to me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you this has happened to me before?” You murmur pathetically, propping your body against the arm of your couch.

Spencer’s heart breaks more. You won’t look at him again.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, clasping your hands together, fighting the shakes. “I should’ve talked to you, I just-- This has happened before and those times it was… Well, you know.” You finally look up at him, tears falling. “The first time the guy didn’t even try hiding it. The second one did, but not very well because I still found out. The third wasn’t even aware that he was flirting with me, I guess. I don’t know how you can take someone on dates for months and not be aware, but he said he wasn’t.” You pause, looking away again. “I just saw a pattern and I freaked out and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispers, even though you still feel like it’s not.

You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is,” he presses on. “I should’ve...talked to you about how I’m feeling, but I was scared. You’re the first girl that’s-- I don’t know, liked me for me, I guess. Dorkiness and all.”

You chuckle, and Spencer nearly grins. He got a laugh. That’s something.

“How about we both make a deal to communicate better?” He offers. You nod, so he keeps going. “I’ll go first. I really want you to be my girlfriend.”

You can’t help but smile now, all dumb and trying to hide it in the sleeve of his cardigan. “I’d really love to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost like he wasn’t even expecting you to agree, but you nod, confirming it for his genius brain.

The kiss the two of you share is a long time coming. It’s gentle and warm, relaxing your muscles and easing the tension you’ve held in them for the past two weeks. Spencer gathers you in his arms, keeping you close, with zero intent of ever letting you go.

+++

When you walk into the BAU the next morning, you are painfully reminded that you are surrounded by the best profilers in the country.

It’s no secret that you and Spencer have been “dating” for a while, but you never showed PDA -- partly because the two of you were fumbling around your true feelings, and partly because you’re not too sure how relationships stand with protocol here.

Apparently, despite coming in fifteen minutes apart from one another, everyone can see right through you both.

Morgan is the first to say something. He catches you when the elevator doors open and you have Spencer’s cardigan hanging over your shoulders. In your defense, Spencer forgot to grab it when he left your house sometime this morning, so you were just trying to return it -- again.

“Late night?” Morgan raised his eyebrows.

Realizing your mistake, your eyes widen. “Shut up.” You step off the elevator and point a threatening finger in his face. “Not a word.”

Morgan’s hands raise in surrender, but he still has that goddamn smile on his face. “Might wanna take off that cardigan, sweetheart. You’re too obvious.”

Angrily, you shrug it off and walk into the bullpen.

Spencer is at his desk, so you shove his cardigan into his chest. “You forgot this.”

Upon seeing that it’s you, Spencer’s lips stretch into a grin. “Thanks.” He pauses, folding the cardigan over his arm. “I was kind of hoping you’d keep it,” he whispers, eyes darting around to be sure no one is listening. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. “Give it to me tonight, then,” you wink, earning a light blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

Hotch watches this encounter from the railing and smiles. He’s sure neither of you will do anything to warrant him giving you a stern talk about relationships and work, so he won’t mention anything for now.

Instead, he retreats back into his office, glad you’ve finally gotten over yourselves.

Garcia catches on when you come to visit her in her office only to find Spencer already standing there. He’s animatedly talking about Doctor Who, but stops abruptly when he sees you. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand the glances, the smiles, and awkward goodbyes that were shared so you could ask Garcia a question.

Prentiss is just glad the two of you will look at one another again, but the way you keep glancing over her shoulder to see Spencer is more than obvious. It’s so obvious that Prentiss and JJ share a knowing look, but say nothing. They should’ve placed bets.

You and Spencer catch each other’s eyes more than a dozen times every hour, and he follows you to the break room to conveniently get a coffee at the same time as you.

Yeah, you’re not being obvious at all.

Neither of you notice that the team has caught on, so you take your chances when you find yourselves alone in the break room. You can practically hear the conversations the rest of the team is having out in the bullpen, so you let Spencer pull you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head.

This is a lot for Spencer, and you too, if you’re honest. Hugs are something you never found yourself enjoying, but when you’re tucked into Spencer’s chest, you never want to leave.

You’re both too busy holding one another to hear Hotch’s footsteps as he enters the room. The clearing of his throat is what finally breaks the two of you apart.

“Agent Hotchner,” you blurt, straightening yourself and taking one too many steps away from Reid.

Hotch smirks. You haven’t called him that since your first day. “New case. Looks like a short one. Conference room in five minutes.”

And he leaves as quick as he came, chuckling under his breath.

You and Spencer share a look before dissolving into laughter and fixing your coffee. You don’t try to walk out of the break room separately, knowing that there’s no use.

Especially not when you get cold on your way to the conference room, and Spencer promptly wraps you in his cardigan.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If you please

Chapter Seventeen

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2800

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Bucky being sad

<< Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Early one morning I woke up and got ready for the day. Bucky wasn’t awake yet so I walked to the kitchen table, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, then wrote him a note that said I was going out for a while and that I would be back later. After picking up some of the money we had stored in a giant jar on the floor, I headed to the door and down the stairs, out into the busy Romanian morning.

Cars and people bustled down the streets every which way. I walked a few blocks away before arriving at an old book store. I had been thinking for a while that maybe if Bucky read something that he used to love, then maybe that would help some memories resurface.

Stepping through the threshold, I was hit with the comforting smell of old books and what seemed to be a vanilla candle. In the corner, right next to the door, is the cashier, a small, hunched old woman who, every time I come in here, is sleeping. She jostles a bit at the sound of the bell when the door shuts but doesn't wake.

I continue on into the shelves of books, looking for anything Bucky might like. Even though it was a Romanian book store, there were many English selections of classic books. I scoured the shelves for a while before coming to a stop at one of his favorites, ‘The Hobbit’. I gently took it off the top shelf and fingered through the old, yellowing pages. Dust from the top of the book fell to the floor as I did so. Closing it, I started to scan for something else for me to read, this time making sure it was one of the very long ones, considering I had read the short four hundred page one about three times already. There was a small paperback copy of Victor Hugo’s ‘Les Miserables’ sitting on the second shelf from the floor. I grabbed it and sat it on top of the other book in my arms and headed for the front.

The old woman was still napping away when I placed my small stack onto the counter. I forwent ringing the service bell and just reached over to give a strong tap on her shoulder. Having been here before, I knew she wouldn’t wake up to the sound of it. She swatted my hand away and I tapped her a second time a little more harshly, she woke up that time, muttering in Romanian that she was awake. I greeted her with a soft hello before placing the coins for the books into her boney, outstretched hand. She thanked me then I was on my way back to the apartment.

I took a small detour through the open market stalls a block or two away from the apartment. I take my time looking through the small amount of fresh fruit that was offered so early in the year. I move along, not finding anything of interest. I make my way through the crowd of people to continue my original journey back home.

It was close to eleven by now and when I opened the door and stepped into the apartment, my nose was filled with the smell of something burning. Quickly I shut the door and run down the tiny hallway and into the main room. Bucky was standing over a smoking pan on the stove, while right next to it was a pot, almost boiling over.

“Buck what in the world are you doing?” I ask as I move towards him to turn the eyes off.

“I was trying to make breakfast for lunch. It was supposed to be an ‘I’m sorry I scared you and brought back bad memories’ meal since I never told you I was sorry, but I burnt the eggs and bacon.” He tells me before he leans over to the trash can and dumps the charred food in.

I moved around to stand next to him and placed my right hand on his firm metal bicep. “Thank you, I really appreciate the sentiment.” I smiled up at him then looked down at what was in the now slowly bubbling pot with chopped potatoes. “Look,” I pointed out, “the potatoes are fine.” Bucky followed my outstretched finger and gave a small nod.

“Go sit down, I'll make something with these.” He directed. I looked at him skeptically as I slowly backed away.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

“Yes, sit.”

And so I did. I went directly to my bed where I had thrown the books, took up mine, and then started to read. It was hard to concentrate though since I looked up from the pages every two seconds to make sure Bucky wasn’t going to burn the whole building down again, but he seemed to be doing fine. He had ended up frying the chopped potatoes in butter with a bunch of random seasonings.

Several minutes later he had finished and was scooping the food onto two separate plates. He picked the plates up and made his way around the island and to the loveseat in front of it. Sitting down he placed his plate on the arm of the furniture and then called me over. I picked myself up off the mattress and plopped myself down beside him and took my plate from his hands.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I took the fork into my hand and started eating. Surprisingly the food was actually good. I turned my eyes to him, he was staring at me, probably waiting for my thoughts on the food. I nodded my head as I chewed as a sign that it was good. He smiled softly and proceeded to eat his.

“That was really good, Buck. Next time when you cook though, stick to one thing at a time, don’t try to cook it all at once.” I said once I had finished.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Um,” he paused a second. “Where did you go this morning?”

“Oh, I actually went to get you something that might help with your memory.” I stood up after placing the dirty plate on the counter behind me and shuffled over to the bag that held Bucky’s book. I gently took it out and held it close. Making my way back to where he was sitting, I held the book out to him. “Here you go.”

He reached out and took it from me, a small smile ghosted his lips. “The Hobbit, I love this book, thank you.”

“See you’re already remembering.”

“Yeah, I think I remember wanting you to read it and you made me read something else.” He shut his eyes tight, trying to remember. “It was Pride and Prejudice wasn’t it?”

I gave him a giant toothy grin at that. “It was,” I almost shouted. I leaned down to give him a hug, excited he remembered something that was so long ago. “We started reading them the week we got engaged.” I backed away a bit.

“Oh yeah-” He looked to his hands and then to my hand. “Do you- do you still have the ring?”

“Of course I do.” I lifted my hands to the chain that always stayed hidden beneath my shirt. There was a small delicate clank as the ring and locket tapped against each other. I brought the chain over my head and then grabbed one of Bucky’s hands, placing the necklace down gently. I watched as he brought the small treasures closer to his face. He studied them quietly.

“Why don’t you ever wear the ring around your finger?” he asked, I heard a little bit of concern come through.

“I didn’t want to lose it. I kept it hidden for a long time, then when everything happened in January I had a feeling that I should keep it on at all times. With all the fighting that took place, I thought it best to wear it around my neck so I wouldn't fall off.” I explained. I eyed him as he fiddled with the clasp, he was taking the ring off.

He rose to his feet silently before grabbing my left hand to place the ring securely where it was meant to be. “Can you wear it like this from now on?” I looked into his eyes, they were soft. I nodded in response as he stepped a little closer to me.

I could feel my heart start to quicken when he started to lean down, coming to eye level with me. I could feel his cool hand snake up to the back of my neck and pull me forward slightly. I closed my eyes, I could feel the warmth of his breath, we were so close. I leaned myself in more and before I knew it I felt his rough but soft lips graze the corner of my mouth. They were warm and just like I remembered, familiar. I moved my hands to the sides of his face to keep him from moving away. His hands came softly atop mine and pulled them away and down between, but he never let go of them. I felt him move back a tiny bit before I opened my eyes with a small huff. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him, how much I missed the feeling of him. I wanted to feel him kiss me, really kiss me.

He whispered my name softly as one of his hands came up to move a strand of my hair away from my face and then brought the hand back to cradle mine. “I want to take this slow.”

“But-” I started but he cut me off.

“Let me find myself before I come back to you,” The broken sound of his voice hit my ears so softly I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it if my hearing were normal.

“Okay, Bucky I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.” He pulled me into a tight hug at that.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

It is now mid-July and Bucky has been steadily remembering more and more. The process has gone faster than I thought it would, but that’s probably because he isn’t alone and trying to figure things out. I’ve noticed that the longer we are here in Romania, the less paranoid he is about being found, although it still eats at the back of both our minds constantly.

Bucky has started to smile more, he’s started to get closer to me, mentality and physically. Something changed after that afternoon he slipped the ring back onto my finger. Sometimes, while we are sitting at home he will slip his hand into mine and leave it there for a while, or he’ll somehow just gravitate to my side like a magnet. I never push him further than he is comfortable with, knowing he is still trying to find his missing pieces.

He works hard, exhaustingly so, to be able to remember. To be the Bucky he once was. Sometimes when he gets frustrated, I have to remind him that he will never be one hundred percent how he was in 1943, but I love him all the same, I’ll stay beside him.

And that's how we came to this precise moment. Bucky was laid out on the floor staring at the ceiling when I walked out of the bathroom from taking my nightly shower.

“What’s the matter?” I questioned as I rang my hair out with the towel. He didn’t say anything, just turned his head to face away from me. “Hey, come on, you can tell me.” I encouraged as I sat down on the edge of my mattress.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Oh it isn’t nothing, I can see it all over your face. Something is bothering you so tell me what’s up.”

“I don’t know. I’m just so tired. My head is hurting from all the things I’m trying to remember.” He huffed out gruffly. I gave him a sympathetic look before poking him in the side. He turned his body to the side to look at me.

“You do know it’s okay to take a break? You shouldn’t expect yourself to remember every little thing.”

“I know, it's just. There are these glimpses from the past but I can never place them. It’s frustrating.” He says as his hand comes up to softly play with my fingers near his head.

“Well, you can’t try to remember things clearly if you are exhausted. Get some rest and relax, let the memories clear themselves up instead of trying to force them.” I stilled his hand and rubbed the back of it with the one he wasn’t currently grasping. “How about I make us some tea and then we can get some rest?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay then.” I stood up and his hand slowly let go of mine.

In the kitchen, I grabbed the kettle and filled it with water, and placed it on the eye of the stove. While waiting for the water to boil I washed the dirty mugs in the sink so that way we could use them. The box of teabags was sitting off to the side of the sink, I slipped two from the box and placed them in the now clean, empty mugs. When the water was done I poured it into our cups along with a few scoops of sugar and a tiny bit of milk and then walked back over to where I was sitting earlier.

“Here you go. Be careful, it’s hot and still needs to steep for a bit.” I warned as he sat up to take the mug from my hand. I sat back down and after a minute, started to take small sips of my tea.

“Thank you. Not just for the tea, but for everything you do. I don’t know how I’d get through this if you weren't with me.” He confessed as he took a long sip.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck-” I started but he cut me off.

“Yes, I do. I wouldn’t have gotten near as far as I have if it weren't for your help. You’re always so loving and patient with me. I don’t deserve it, especially with the things I’ve done.” His head hung low as he drew his knees up closer to him.

I frowned as I sat my mug on the floor and crawled my way across the floor to sit directly in front of him. Carefully I placed both my hands on his. “Nothing you did is your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I did awful things. They are the only thing I can remember vividly. Can’t you see that I'm a bad guy now?”

“Sweetheart you are not a bad guy, you are a victim.” I moved my hand to his face so I could have him look at me. “And yes, you did those things but none of that was under your control. Nothing you did with HYDRA was in your control.” He looked at me with tears welled up in his eyes, he grabbed my hand and pulled it down away from his face but he never let it go. “I want to help you get through this but I can’t do that if you push me away because you think you are a danger to me. I told you before that you could never hurt me, I’m tougher than I look.”

“I don’t doubt that,” He chuckled. “It’s just hard when at any second I could turn back into that thing. It scares me, it scares me so much that I could be the reason I lose you just after I got you back.” His voice sounded like he was trying hard to hold back tears.

I moved from in front of him to his left side. I wrapped my arms around him, making him lean into me. I squeezed him tight. “It’s okay to cry, don’t hold it back,” I whispered into his ear. I felt him shudder and then all of a sudden it was like the flood gates had been opened.

We sat there on the floor for what felt like hours. We had changed into a more comfortable position, where Bucky had his arms wrapped around my middle and he just wept into my shirt. I softly played with his long hair and scratched his scalp. It seemed to calm him, but he still cried. He cried until no more tears would come until all he could do was jolt with hiccups.

We fell asleep like that, huddled together on the hard floor, next to the couch.

Authors note: Hi everybody, I know this chapter is a little shorter than I have been writing but I started my third year at college and I have like three 15 page essays and a crap tone of homework. So please be patient with me with writing for a while.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila @andy-is-gay

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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malfoymuch · 4 years

Text

if it is a dream [draco malfoy; soulmate au]

Pairing; Draco x Reader,, Pansy x Draco (friends),, Pansy x Reader (friends),, Pansy x Theodore

Genre; Fluff? Overall, yeah...

Word Count; 3.5k+ (with extra)

Request; @andreasworlsboring101

Warnings; unedited

“Draco! Draco, dearie, can you come here, please?” Draco’s mother, Narcissa called from the main room of their Manor. Draco bolted down the stairs, throwing his toys onto the bed as he skipped down the stairs, his hair swept messily to one side as he straightened himself in front of his mother.

“Yes, mommy?” Draco asked, brightly grinning up at his mother as he watched her near him, smiling as she fixed his hair.

“Your hair, Draco. It’s a mess. You’re lucky you’re father isn’t paying attention,” she lightly scolded, though Draco knew that she didn’t mean it-- it just meant that he had to be more proper and presentable at times when his father was around.

“Draco, my boy. We wanted to give you something, or at least show you at least,” his mother whispered, kneeling down and gasping her son’s shoulders softly, grinning at him. “We think you’re old enough to be responsible, aren’t you, my boy?”

“Of course I am, mum. I’m a big boy,” Draco announced, puffing out his chest eliciting a heartfelt laugh from her. She nodded, her lips tugged high into a smile.

“Draco.” His father’s voice boomed, startling both Draco and his mother for a second before they greeted him happily.

“Your mother and I thought it was time to present you with this,” Lucius handed his son an ebony wooden box, intricate designs hand-carved throughout the box, all leading to the lock. His father then handed him what seemed to be the key, and suddenly, Draco began to feel his hands tremble as he turned it counter-clockwise until he heard a faint ‘click.’

Gulping, his hands came to the top of the box, and pushed it back, until the hinges fully supported it. His eyes immediately scanned the inside, until his eyes landed on a ring.

Draco picked it up gently, terrified that he’d drop it. The ring was too, delicately sophisticated. The band was twisted and cool, the texture and pattern reminding Draco of a snake; he soon noticed the snake’s head, curved over the prong, until his eyes finally landed on the head of the ring. There, was the Malfoy’s family crest, surrounded with a backdrop of black with pristine and steady strokes of emerald. He was captivated, swirling the ring in his hand.

“It’s our family heirloom,” his mother had told him, “The ring will attach itself and hold on to your soulmate, the one you’re destined to be with.” His eyes grew in disbelief as he stared at his mother, his eyes sparkling.

“Is it true? Soulmates? Do they really exist?”

“Of course, my boy. It’s a very special ring, so you must promise that you won’t lose it.” Lucius’ voice reasoned, staring down at his son softly. “One day you’ll find them… a soulmate or whoever you wish to propose to,” his father explained further.

“But it’s not something to play around with, and randomly put on people’s fingers, it must be taken care of. It’s our family’s, after all.” Draco nodded as he put the ring on his ring finger, feeling the ring begin to tighter around his finger, the snake staring at him cheekily before resting back on the prong.

A sudden knock startled Draco before his mother ushered him out of the room happily.

“Hurry! That must be the (L/N)’s!” His mother announced, Draco smiling as he could hear giggles from the other side of the door. Opening it widely, he waved excitedly at you, waiting patiently for your parents to greet each other and come inside. As soon as they did, he tugged his mother’s dress, pleadingly looking into her eyes.

“Mother, can I play with (Y/N) before we eat? Just for a little bit?” He begged hurridly as he bounced a bit, knowing that his mother would probably agree, whereas his father would’ve refused based on his behavior. She sighed, before slowly nodding.

“Okay, but just for a little bit, all right? Supper will begin any minute now,” she rushed, making Draco grin. He pulled you along with him, running up the stairs before his father could realize where they were going. Closing the door to his room, he turned back at you, pointing at his hand.

“You won’t believe what I just got!” He whisper-screamed to you, watching as your eyes light up as you grabbed his hand to get a better look at it.

“A ring?”

“Not just any ring, (Y/N). It’s supposed to lead me to my soulmate… if they put the ring on and it doesn’t come off, they’re destined to be with me.” Automatically, you grabbed the ring and stared at it, before Draco pushed your hand away, shocked.

“What’re you doing!?”

“I wanna tryyyyyyy, pleaseeeeeeee.” You nagged, “I wanna be your soulmate, Draco.” Draco shook his head, moving his head behind his back as he stepped away from you.

“No, not yet, I’m too young.” He retorted childishly, his cheeks filled with air as he looked away from you, his face turning pink. You gasped, before grabbing his hands with yours.

“Then promise me then!”

“Promise you what?” He asked almost immediately, afraid of what you’d say.

“Promise we that in ten years from now, I’ll get to try it on! To see if I’m your soulmate or not!”

“And if we’re not?” He asked concerned, raising his eyebrow at you as you bit your bottom lip, in deep thought, until another idea sparked. “Then if neither of us finds our soulmate by a certain point, we’ll marry each other.”

“Are you insane? I can’t just marry my best friend!”

“Of course you can, people do it all the time. Most people were best friends before they were a couple, Draco. Or at least, that’s what my parents always say,” you finished with a shrug of your shoulders.

“If you don’t want to, though, it’s fine.” Draco watched as you failed to keep yourself happy, your expression slowly turning saddened and bleak. His heart tugged a bit as he growled under his breath, intertwining his tiny fingers with yours.

“Fine! Ten years from now, we’ll be… sixteen? Seventeen? We’ll do it then,” Draco shouted, stunned that your expression had altered so quickly, hugging him tightly before pushing him away.

“Pinky-promise?”

“Yeah, sure. Pinky-promise.” He groaned, lacing his pinky with yours before the calls from both your parents were heard from bellow.

“We should probably get going,” he stated, making you nod. As you both hustled down the stairs, you quickly whispered.

“Remember, you can’t break a pinky-promise, or I’ll be mad.”

Draco and you had been friends from as long as he could remember, probably since birth, honestly. The two of you were constantly clinging onto one another, whether it was for comfort or to simply annoy the other… you both were inseparable as the years dragged on.

—————

“Draco Lucius Malfoy! It’s time!” You scolded at him, attempting to tackle him to the ground in order to steal the piece of jewelry on his finger. He dodged at the last possible second, however, grinning from ear-to-ear as he watched you trip.

“Better luck, next time, love.” He teased, sticking his tongue out and playfully sending a wink your way. You immediately flushed bright red, blowing away a strand of your hair before charging towards him once again.

“Draco Malfoy! You made a promise that I get to try on the ring! Let me, already!” You scolded, your finger jabbing into his chest as you tried to reach for his hand, but he seemed to be much quicker as he waved it in all directions. He then took the initiative to remove the ring from his fingers, placing it in the palm of his hand and tauntingly waving it in your face, before extending his hand as high as he could.

“I don’t see why you’re so obsessed with this ring, (Y/N). Or the promise, you should be focused on something else,” he tried to persuade, knowing that you weren’t listening to a word he said. “Besides, it hasn’t officially been ten years, since then… you still have another month or so.”

“Oh shut up, will you? Just give me it!” You interjected, jumping to try and grab his hand. He twirled around you and smirked, ruffling his hair as he steadied the ring back on his finger.

“Unfortunately, class begins soon… guess you’ll have to try later--” his sentence was cut off short as he began to run, you trailing behind him in a frenzy towards your class; his laughs echoed the hallways as students made sure to clear a path, avoiding eye-contact with him and you (pretty much because you threatened to hex anyone who got in the way as you were running).

----------

Normally, you wouldn’t have even batted an eyelash towards his heirloom, or bring it up in a conversation. But as the day got closer, it kind of started to bring a sense of uneasiness to you… the promise. The scenarios playing in your mind as you slept, or daydreamed through some of your classes.

But it made you think. For once, it was odd. To imagine your future as a sixteen-soon-to-be-seventeen-year-old, nonetheless with your best friend. He must’ve thought it wasn’t big, but it definitely was to you. You weren’t an idiot at the age of seven, you knew what you were getting into when you made that promise. Hell, you even wrote it in a little journal you had afterward, it wasn’t hard to deny it. You fancied Draco.

For years, so the thought of being his soulmate made you feel excited and absolutely terrified. Pansy had often reassured that all would work out, and things would pan out the way it should… but it still bothered you. As much as you tried not to, it was the only thought that remained.

Maybe I should just forget about it, he’s probably someone in mind anyway, you thought as you slumped in your chair, it wouldn’t have been the first.

“Hey! (Y/N), are you even paying attention?” Pansy nudged your shoulder, asking through her teeth, her eyes widening as she forced you to look down into your textbook before the professor noticed you were spacing out.

“Still obsessing over Draco?” She whispered, resulting in a bitter laugh to emit from you. Pansy had had an overwhelming obsession with Draco for the first few years until one day, it seemed the message of him not reciprocating her feelings had become clear, and then she changed.

Much better, if you were being honest. She had her own personal glow-up and was focused much more on devoting time reflecting and helping you.

“Maybe you should pretend to lose interest? That might make him give it up,” she suggested, “Or just steal it from him? You know, unexpected--”

“How am I supposed to steal it? It’s on his finger, Pansy,” you jeered, continuing to write utter nonsense in your notebook as you stared at it with intent, hearing her sigh loudly. “I don’t know, but you have to do something, maybe even tell him… ever given that a thought?” She questioned, staring at you concerningly as you shifted under her gaze uncomfortably, trying to stir your attention away from anything but the topic at hand.

“I don’t know…” you dragged on, making eye-contact with Draco from across the classroom, seeing him happily sending you a smile; you tried your best to return the favor, however, it seemed a bit forced, causing Draco’s to waver.

Oh, bloody hell…

“Well, now he knows something’s up,” Pansy piqued, giving you a knowing gaze as she gave a quick glance at him, before grabbing your hand to prevent you from writing any longer. “You have to do something, I’m not saying you should steal the ring or stalk him, but do what your heart tells you to do, when the time comes.” You smiled softly as you grabbed her hand, uttering a sincere ‘thank you’ before returning to your work.

Pansy gazed back up at Draco, seeing his concerned gaze towards you before mouthing to Pansy a series of phrases, and answering them swiftly before you had the chance to notice.

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

Draco had no idea what was going on with you. One minute, you were giddy and incredibly engaged in your own world, the next you were shouting at him about his promise and the ring, and then you give him a pathetic attempt of smiling at him… and suddenly he had no clue what was going on with you.

He’d been talking to Pansy lately about the issue, but she’d either reassure that everything would be fine or give the curt response: “Go ask for yourself”

Normally, Draco would’ve given a snarky response back, but she’d always managed to run away before he could press on more about you.

“What happened to (Y/N), Pansy?” He asked through gritted teeth, “You make this so much harder than it has to be.” Pansy raised a brow at him, amused, twirling the strands of her hair with her finger.

“Someone’s not happy…” she taunted before shrugging her shoulders. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you.”

“Why not? Aren’t you her best friend?”

“Aren’t you?” Pansy countered quickly, watching Draco’s mouth hung open, before closing silently. “You two have known each other longer than I have; if you think something’s wrong ask (Y/N) yourself.”

“I can’t if (Y/N) won’t talk to me,” he pressed on, staring at his friend’s eyes as he grabbed her wrists. “Please, I need to know--”

“Draco, do you fancy (Y/N)?” Pansy inquired, removing his hands off of her, settling them back on her lap as she stared at him knowingly. Draco frantically shook his head at her, ruffling his hair in the process.

“Where did that question even come from, Pansy? Have you gone mad--”

“No. But it seems you will, soon. Why won’t you let (Y/N) try on the ring? A Malfoy sticks by their word, don’t they?”

Draco’s mouth became instantly dry, struggling to form any coherent sentence as his ears began to grow bright. Pansy’s eyes glimmered in realization.

“You’re afraid (Y/N) isn’t the one, aren’t you?” Draco remained silent as she titled her head to meet his gaze, to which his gaze moved away again. “Or are you afraid (Y/N) is the one?”

“You’re deranged, Parkinson.”

“Perhaps I am, but the one thing I’m not Draco… is a coward.” She grunted, resulting in Draco staring up at her, shocked. Pansy was a female that often spoke her mind and criticized others, but not him. She certainly changed.

“You’ve been friends for ages, Draco. And even when I was too “preoccupied” with you I still knew it; (Y/N) won’t be around forever, and if you don’t act soon someone will sweep them off their feet because that’s what they deserve. And you’ll never know the truth,” Pansy flicked his forehead, making Draco whine at the impact. “You’re incredibly dense, sometimes. I wonder what I saw in you…” Draco’s eyes trailed down to the floor, before a sudden laugh shook, startling him.

“But I know (Y/N) sees it… saw it longer than I had, maybe… besides, I got myself… someone. So go get yours.” Draco’s eyes stared up at his long friend, staring at her both thankful and apologetic.

“Oh stop with the sappy look, will you? I’m not telling you to confess and I’m not asking for pity. But when the time comes… do it.”

————

A few weeks had passed since then, and your nerves had remained calmer than ever. It seemed Pansy was right, and being able to dial down on your turmoil was as simple as clearing your mind… from all of the thoughts of his heirloom.

Of course, you took that route. Instead of confessing to him… and Pansy had egged you to pursue him while respecting your decision. It just seemed easier, you noted, to distract yourself for a while.

“Why are you spacing off, again? Someone caught your eye?” Draco quipped, staring down at you. You rolled your eyes as you readjusted yourself on his lap, giving him an irritated look.

“Does it matter? Even if I was, it’s none of your business,” you ended while sticking out your tongue, noticing Draco’s eyes had slightly clouded at your remark.

“I should probably leave soon, Umbridge will be scouting soon…” Draco murmured, as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Oh yes! The sadist, who only lives to ruin student’s lives… I find it concerning that she’s so fascinated in kids…” you whispered the last part, Draco letting out a hearty laugh. “Pipe it down, I heard she has eyes and ears everywhere,” he added on, the both of you snickering.

“Watch out, she might hide under your bed too, I wouldn’t put it past her.” Draco grabbed your hand and squeezed it as he let out another laugh, the cool metal of his ring sending a shiver down your spine. As it died down, he released your hand, before his eyes traveled down to his hand, and his ring. He removed his other hand cradling your head and removed the hoop slowly.

“Here, a deal’s a deal.” You let out a huff, knitting your eyebrows as he dropped the ring into your hands.

“Why so suddenly… well, I guess I’ll try it. After all, you’ll probably be getting it back.” The statement broke your heart, but in reality, it seemed fit to say. And Draco cracked a smile, so he must’ve been hoping it to happen too.

Sliding the ring on your finger, another shiver sent down your spine, your eyes lost in the details of the loop. Your breath hitched suddenly as you paused your movements, watching for something to happen. A sign.

Looking up, you saw Draco staring just as intensely as you had at your hand, the curves of his mouth downward and grim.

“See? I told you,” you sighed, reaching for the ring again and attempting to tug at it.

Attempting.

However, as you tried, you realized you couldn’t take it off.

“Uh… Draco? Can… Can you give me a hand?” You pleaded nervously, his eyes widening as he adjusted his position, panicked.

“Yeah, of course.” He responded, gently grabbing your hand in his, his fingers hanging over the ring, deep in thought, before he dropped it, staring at you.

“(Y/N)... it won’t come off,” he said quietly, a small smile dancing on his features.

“How would you know? You didn’t even try,” you tried to defend, grabbing the ring again and tugging it. This time, the ring had gotten looser, only for the snake to hiss at you, its jade eyes leering. You removed your hand almost instantly, letting the creature hum in content before slithering itself around you again, this time, a bit tighter than before.

“This has to be a dream, it can’t be real… can it?” You gaped, thinking that you were daydreaming again. Hallucinating maybe?

“I don’t think it’s a dream,” Draco started, his thumb playing with the ring on your finger, a bright smile plastered on his face as he stared (almost) lovingly at it. “But if it is…” he intertwined his fingers with yours, staring into your eyes with a lovestruck gaze.

“I don’t ever want to wake up.” He paused, before leaning down to capture your lips with his.

“I think it’s better than any dream, actually.”

Extra:

Months later, your head was resting on Draco’s shoulder, as he seemed to be engaged in a conversation with the boy across from him; Theodore Nott, Pansy’s boyfriend, who looked to be a decently charming Slytherin, though he was extremely opinionated with whatever they were conversing about.

“Sorry for asking, but I’ve been a bit curious about the ring on (Y/N)’s finger?” Theodore suddenly inquired, making you lift your head up to see Draco had been playing with the ring on your finger the whole time, twirling it rhythmically.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious? We’re engaged.” He smirked deviously, a gasp coming from you as you pushed him away, laughing. “Yeah right--”

“Aren’t we?”

“You didn’t even propose!”

“Don’t you have a ring? I can’t give you another one, this one isn’t coming off--”

“You didn’t ask and we’re still in school! Plus it’d be nice if you at least made the effort to ask--”

“Do you want me to ask? I can do it, plan it out if you want…It’s not like my parents would disapprove… my mother’s absolutely smitten for you.”

“That sounds nasty.”

“You know what I meant by that.”

“Even cuter, Theo, they’re soulmates…” Pansy whispered to him, as both of you bickered with one another. Theodore nodded in understanding, leaning down to Pansy’s ear. “I assume you helped… I don’t think Draco wouldn’t have done it anytime soon otherwise.”

“I can hear you,” Draco announced, pink dusting his cheeks as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, “And I would’ve eventually… though I’m glad Pansy helped…”

“Of course I had to,” Pansy smiled proudly, “And look how it turned out. I’m great at what I do.”

“You mean not minding your own business?”

“DRACO!”

———

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@amberkay284

#draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts #draco reader insert #dracoxreader #draco x you #x reader fluff #x reader insert #malfoymuch #draco malfoy scenario #request #fluff

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Kittens

I wrote something along these lines as an idea a while ago and I finished it now in-between breaks I’ve allowed myself between an essay I have to write. I figured it’s not my best but no one gets hurt and Hotch talks to a cat for the majority of it so it’s not that bad

The creaking of the old floorboards stops Hotch from going down the hall and checking to make sure Jack is up. He stands for a moment at the mouth of the hallway, listening to Jack curse and mumble under his breath. Most of which, he can’t hear but there are dips in Jack’s voice which allow for only certain words to float their way down to him.

“Where-- that little motherfu-- he’s going to-- shit, shit, shit--”

Hotch huffs a little laugh, a chuckle that makes no more than the whisper of a breath of noise leaving his mouth. Parenting doesn’t make much sense and Hotch is certain he’s probably supposed to say something to Jack about the cursing but to his credit, Jack hasn’t spoken like that in Hotch’s presence. Plus, it would make him a hypocrite to get too frustrated over it. He cursed at sixteen and he still does. He also smoked and got into all kinds of trouble and, as far as he knows, the most Jack gets into on a Saturday night is too many energy drinks and a new book.

As curious as Hotch is about whatever it is that Jack is fussing with, Hotch has to get breakfast ready. He turns and starts to walk to the kitchen. That’s where he’s headed when he sees something small and orange bolts ahead of him. Glancing over his shoulder, in the direction it had come from, Hotch finds nothing. Just the light peeking out from behind Jack’s door.

Hmm. Odd.

Hotch continues down the hall, looking around the floor as he goes. Trying to see what it was and where it went. Until he gets to the kitchen. “Oh,” Hotch raises an eyebrow at the kitten he finds sniffing the floor near the oven. A tiny orange kitten. He picks it up, observing it as he turns it around to inspect the tiny thing.

It looks up and him and gives a little irritated meow.

“You must be motherfucker,” Hotch says, rubbing a finger over its head. “I think Jack is looking for you.” Hotch smiles as the kitten purs, pushing its head under his finger for more. He indulges it and, he has to admit, the thing is cute. He doesn’t mind it. “Are you hungry?”

He goes to the fridge and inspects the findings… slim pickings. “Cats are lactose intolerant, right?” He looks down as the kitten squirms his arms. Rolling over it attacks his fingers but cradled to his chest it’s safe. “I don’t know anything about cats.” He’s never had any pets. Haley had an old dog named Bailey when they first got together. A border collie her father bought for her birthday years before from a farmer in town.

Growing up in the country he’d seen plenty of stray cats and dogs but he’d never had his own. There was a porch cat he used to feed bread to but his father scared it off and kicked it once. Hotch had looked so much like his father that the cat wouldn’t come to him anymore after that incident. That was probably for the best.

“Here,” Hotch finally settles. He pulls the almond milk out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. He adds the container of blueberries beside it. “I’m having oatmeal but I reckon you can probably have almond milk, right?” With a frown, he makes a mental note to ask Emily or Garcia about that. One of them is bound to know. For now, a little almond milk is probably fine. It doesn’t have milk in it but he wants to be certain.

Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, he hums and reaches over for the measuring cups. He’s been making oatmeal for years so he’s mastered the eyeballing it technique. However, the half-cup measuring cup is the perfect size for him to use as a bowl for the kitten.

“Has Jack got you any food?” he asks placing the kitten on the counter. He pours a little almond milk in the half-cup and smirks when the kitten takes to it immediately. “Well… you probably wouldn’t drink that if it wasn’t good for you, right?” Probably… well, maybe.

This feels exactly like when they brought Jack home. He and Haley had been terrified of every little thing. They were constantly calling someone about something. He can easily call Emily or Garcia but… he’s an adult, he can handle a kitten.

“Stay,” he orders stepping away from the counter to grab a pan. The kitten doesn’t move just stands contently where it is drinking the almond milk. Hotch gets the oatmeal going, keeping an eye on the kitten out of the corner of his eye. “You’re hungry,” he notes, with a tilt of his head. And when it looks up at him, almond milk all over its face, there’s no way he can deny how cute it is.

His oatmeal doesn’t take that long to make and distracted with watching the kitten it’s a nice easy pace. Bowl of oatmeal in his palm, angry kitten trying to escape from where it’s tucked between his chest and forearm, and the little cup of almond milk pinched between his fingers he sits down at the kitchen table. “What has he named you?” Hotch asks, settling it all down on the table. It occurs to him it could be a little strange to let the cat on the table but it is a cat so if it sticks around he assumes there will be lots of table sitting.

Hotch can’t remember what book Jack was reading last week-- which is chronologically his best guess at when his little friend here made its way into the house. With hindsight, he can recall Jack having been just a little more distant with him, secretive. Jack is also significant with his decisions so maybe Hotch should think more along the lines of Jack’s favorite books, not his most recent reads. Then again maybe Jack hasn’t named the cat or he chose something out of a song or a movie.

Looking up as he hears Jack’s door creak open, he scowls back down at his lap. The kitten having stretched up at his chest and bats at one of the buttons on his shirt. He taps its little paw warningly, just enough to jar it a little, and judging from the look he receives this little warning tapis nothing something it was expecting.

“Hey, dad.”

Hotch looks up and hums back, nothing unusual because he certainly isn’t going to give up the advantage he has right now. His son is a snarky little shit -- purely Emily’s doing -- and Hotch rarely gets moments where he comes out ahead of whatever jokes Jack (or Emily) can make at his expense.

Jack comes around and nods his head, timidly going about making himself some cereal. Hotch doesn’t comment on his son’s socks -- one is teal with bright, highlighters yellow bananas and the other is beige with pink polka dots. Hotch had given up on Jack and socks. Jack gets a little thrill out of this rebellion and Hotch should just be happy that it’s not worse.

The two of them really have nothing in common. Jack loves science and math (Hotch has to use a calculator for simple multiplication). Hotch prefers for each of his books to look like they have never even been read (Jack has so many sticky notes in his copy that Fahrenheit 451 that it looks silly). Jack refuses to carry around a planner and writes everything down on the back of his hand (Hotch has multiple planners and color codes things in delicate details).

“Oh.” Jack turns with his cereal in his hands and sees the kitten in his father’s lap. That bright orange over his black dress pants. Jack knew his father wouldn’t be mad -- he can count on one hand the number of times he has seen Hotch angry. Though, he knows what he’s done wasn’t the right course to take. He’s not so sure what to do now, he hadn’t planned this far ahead.

Hotch hums again, nodding his head.

Jack looks down at the floor and timidly takes his seat across from his father at the table. Tucking his legs underneath himself to avoid hitting Hotch’s much longer stretched-out legs. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about hitting his dad’s legs but today he’s sensing he should probably consider his actions a little more. “Am in trouble?”

Hotch raises an eyebrow and looks away from the kitten to his Jack. He’s looking down at his cereal, playing with it so he can avoid looking at Hotch. Jack’s never really been in trouble. Hotch is a little too lenient at times but even Jessica is pretty bad for that. Even so, Jack has turned out pretty okay, he’s still a kid (16 isn’t that grown, despite that being the age Hotch’s father kicked him out at -- well sent him to boarding school but that was only after he spent a month couch surfing and sleeping in a shitty tent he stole).

“No.” It’s a cat and he’s not mad and Hotch doesn’t see just yet where he could make this a learning opportunity so… he’s not going to make it a big deal. It’s hard, in situations like these, to know where normal discipline comes into play. His own father would have beat him senseless or locked him out of the house for a week, maybe longer.

“Oh.”

Hotch frowns, “do you think you should be?” He doesn’t mean it to bait Jack, he means it honestly. There isn’t a right answer.

Jack shrugs, “I mean, I don’t know.” Jack is aware that his father isn’t like most dads but they’re in a unique situation, the two of them. “You should probably lecture me about something, right? I mean, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking in any more cats but that’s not as a result of any lecture. I certainly wouldn’t do it with a dog.”

So maybe not a lesson learned but still sounds like there’s no point acknowledged. “Okay,” Hotch reasons. It sounds fair. “Well, next time we talk this sort of thing over, okay? I respect you and your decisions and so I ask for your opinions on things, right? I need you to respect my opinions.”

Jack nods.

“So, any names?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner

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elizabeethan · 3 years

Text

Forget What I Said (It’s Not What I Meant) 1/3

Happy New Year! The start of 2021 also means it’s time for ✨Captain Swan Neverland New Year✨ so here is my contribution! @neverlandnewyear

Thank you to my co-mods and friends @xhookswenchx and @donteattheappleshook for looking over this for me and also for helping to make my Neverland dreams come true 🥺🥰

This is part 1 of 3 (famous last words)

Rated E for smuts and language

~3200 words

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook

Neverland is worse than Hell. Emma’s never actually been to Hell, of course, but it’s an easy conclusion to draw based on the experiences she’s had so far. The heat and humidity is enough to drive a woman mad, and the constant buzzing in her ears from the random insects is becoming nauseating. If she has to swat at her own ear one more time she thinks she’ll snap altogether. But the thing that’s driving her out of her mind most severely is, well, him.

It’s so completely unfair how good he looks. He looks sweaty all the time, but it’s so incredibly sexy because it’s almost as if he’s glistening. The leather clings to his chest in a way that should be illegal, showing off the coarse hair that she’s been dying to run her fingers through.

She gets it, okay? She should be focusing on finding her son and getting the hell out of here. It’s irresponsible of her to be thinking about all the things she wants to do to Captain Hook while on a mission to rescue her kid from Peter Pan. She’s thought it all before. She hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She also hasn’t stopped thinking about him.

She recognizes that she’s behaving childishly. Ignoring him on the ship until he practically corners her in a room is childish. Constantly rolling her eyes at everything he says is childish. But it’s the only thing she can do to keep her damn hands off him.

It became really bad when he started chopping down vines during their trek to make a path through the jungle. The way he swung his cutlass effortlessly through the air until the branches snapped shouldn't have drawn her eyes to the muscles in his back, but it did. And the way he authoritatively led them through the island, begrudgingly telling them all that they needed to know despite how much he clearly hates being here, shouldn't have made her cheeks redden, but it did. Luckily, she can blame that one on the heat of the island.

Honestly, it was only a matter of time. A woman has needs, and when she’s trapped in a dangerous and emotionally exhausting situation for weeks on end, well, who can blame her for taking matters into her own hands… perhaps literally? She nearly loses what little self-control she has left when he starts breaking branches against his knee to use for the fire, his eyes boring deep holes into her own when he catches her staring. Something in her snaps when she wonders what else his strong arms can do.

She chokes down the water inside the coconut she’s (not) enjoying and stands abruptly, noting that her parents have turned in and Regina sits quietly by the fire, and walks past him quickly so that she’s almost at the edge of the clearing when she hears his deep, rumbling voice. “Swan?” he asks, making to stand from his spot beside the fire he always keeps lit.

“I need a minute,” she says under her breath, trying so hard not to turn around and drag him with her. She really just needs a minute away; maybe she can find a stream and splash her face with some water or something.

She’s almost made it out of the clearing when she hears him shuffling behind her, following closely enough that she can feel the heat radiating off of him. Or maybe that’s her. Whatever.

“Hook, I really just need a minute,” she insists. Sure, a part of her still insists on taking matters into her own hands, but what she really thinks she needs is to just be away from the source of her… affliction until she can get over it.

“I heard you, Swan, but it’s dangerous out here on your own. Just allow me to follow behind you to prevent you from falling into any source of danger.”

She rolls her eyes. The last thing she needs is for him to be gentlemanly right now, dammit.

She’s too on edge to argue with him. She thinks anything that comes out of her mouth will be a shout, or maybe that her voice just won’t work at all. “Fine, just... stay away from me,” she finally says, moving swiftly through the thick jungle.

He does something behind her, something between a scoff and a chuckle, and her left eye twitches slightly as fire races through her veins. “If the lady insists,” he says with a timber in his voice that genuinely makes her breath catch in her throat.

“God,” she says, whipping around to face him and finding him standing much closer to her than she expected. “Do you have to talk like that?”

“Like what, darling?” he asks, a smirk growing on his face. He juts his jaw out towards her as his tongue licks along his lower lip, causing her breath to catch.

“Like we’re living in 19th century England.”

“Not sure what that means, my dear, but,” he steps closer to her, raising one brow and smirking as he breathes, “I’m more than willing to let you teach me.”

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,” she says, letting her eyes flutter shut as she shakes her head.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

She clears her throat. “Fuck,” she breathes. He cocks his head to one side and narrows his eyes in a way that shouldn’t be sexy but so is.

“You need only say the words, love.”

That’s it. He just snapped her like the branches over his knee.

She grabs the lapels of his stupidly ostentatious coat and tugs until his lips are crashing against hers and she’s swallowing his gasp. It’s hot and rushed and wrong, but the fire in the pit of her stomach tells her that something that feels this good can’t be bad.

She slinks her fingers around his neck until they’re pulling at the soft hair at the base of his skull, tilting his head and hers so that the kiss becomes deeper. He groans at the sensations of her fingers running along his scalp in her desperation as his hand finds her jaw and his hook lands on her lower back to tug her against him. When her hips collide with his, she feels the evidence that he wants this as much as she does. Actually, he hasn’t been shy about that, and she’s been in complete denial, so it follows that he probably wants this even more than she does.

She moans far too loudly when he starts trailing his lips down her neck, biting and licking on his way until he reaches her collarbone. She pulls at his hair some more as his wrist continues to press into her back and his hook pokes against her ass. She can hardly breathe as he follows the valley between her breasts with his mouth until he’s shoving her shirt out of the way, likely stretching the fabric beyond repair. She doesn’t care. When his lips press firmly against her hardened left nipple through her shirt, she breathes out, “yes, fuck, yes.”

His hand traces feather-light patterns up her stomach as it reaches under her shirt and forces her bra out of the way until he’s breathing over her exposed nipple. He licks it lightly, just barely making contact but adding enough moisture so that the breeze of the jungle makes her shiver. He then begins sucking it into his mouth and alternating licks and nips until she cries out. She’s so keyed up that she wonders if she can come from this alone. “Is this what you want, Swan? Is this why you’ve been so captious with me lately?” She can’t breathe enough to respond to him verbally, so instead she moans and nods her head as he trails his tongue to her neglected nipple. “Is it because you want me to touch you?” She nods again. “You want me so badly that you can hardly stand to even be near me?”

“Yes,” she moans. He releases her nipple with a pop and moves his deft fingers to the waist of her pants, tickling her skin as he goes. “God, yes. Please take those off.”

He obliges, tugging at her pants until they’re around her ankles before he sinks to his knees in front of her and breathes heavily against her quaking core. She thinks he might press his mouth to her— she’s desperate for him to do just that— but instead, he lifts one of her legs and ducks so that he’s settled between her knees with her pants behind him, caging him close to her once he stands again. “And what will you have me do with you, love?”

She whimpers pathetically when he lifts her at the knees, her core not quite touching him but dangerously close, and she throws her head back and hits it against the tree she’s pressed to. “God dammit, Hook, just touch me.”

He hums out a laugh as he continues to support her weight with his hooked arm and reaches between them with the other, pushing her soaked underwear to the side and stroking a finger up through her folds. “So wet for me already, Swan,” he murmurs darkly against her neck. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Touch me,” she demands again. Then, with a bit more honesty, “make me forget where the hell we are.”

He kisses her deeply, his tongue dancing between her lips, then pulls away to ask, “do you want me to use my hand, or my cock?”

Her breathing stops. She pulls his hair at the base of his neck so that he’s looking at her and can see her pupils blown wide with arousal. “No time for hands,” she tells him breathily, reaching her own fingers down to the laces of his trousers and tugging them loose.

“No? Are you saying you're so wet for me already that you don’t require any... preparation?”

She shakes her head as she reaches inside his slacks and groans when she feels his marble length twitching in her grasp. How something can feel so soft and so hard all at once is astounding, but not as astounding as the amount of space his arousal takes up in her hold.

“Yes. Now would you just fuck me, please?”

“As you wish,” he breathes, guiding his hand to his length and tickling his fingers against her entrance to ensure that she’s slick enough for him to tuck himself inside (she is). When he plunges his cock into her, she cries out again at the pressure and the delicious burn of him stretching her. She was right about him being well-endowed judging by the irresistible feel of him inside her.

He gives her a moment to adjust, then begins to thrust into her at the perfect pace. She’s never experienced that before, usually needing to tell her lover to slow down or speed up several times before they finally get it right. But Killian seems to know exactly what she needs. It’s like he’s a machine, recognizing each of her responses and adjusting accordingly in order to bring her the most pleasure she’s ever felt.

Her shirt has fallen back down so that he no longer has access to her breasts, so instead, he latches his mouth to a spot just below her collarbone and marks her as his, at least in this moment. The way he continues to thrust deeply into her at the perfect angle while his lips roam across her skin sends a shiver down her spine, but when he presses himself more firmly against her to bear her weight so he can move his hand, she nearly screams. His good hand travels to her clit and starts rubbing furious circles against her as his thrusts maintain their steady, perfect pace, and she would be in awe at his coordination if she wasn’t seconds from reaching the most powerful orgasm she’s ever had.

He keeps up with the circles on her sensitive nerves and she tightens her belly and core around him as his velvet length glides through her. She’s never been so close to orgasm in such a short time, possibly not even at her own hands. She can’t stop the manic whimpers and moans coming from her lips as she tightens every part of herself around him before finally letting go as ecstasy washes over her.

He continues to pump into her as she rides out her high, not stopping until she’s a twitching mess before he stops to pull out of her. He holds her close to him as he works himself up with his own hand, somehow still supporting her weight against the tree, before she reaches down and takes over until he’s spilling himself onto the ground at his feet, his head resting against her neck. He kisses against her skin as he comes down from it, and she revels in the softness of his hair at her fingertips for a moment too long.

She realizes what the hell she’s doing once her brain turns back on and then starts wriggling in his hold until he releases the back of her knee and backs up slightly so that her legs fall. Her pants are still on under her boots and wrapped around him, so she’s nearly sent to the ground before he realizes what’s happening and catches her. He ducks down again so that he can free himself and then stands before her awkwardly, his softening length still hanging out of the laces of his trousers.

“That was, uh,” he starts breathlessly, scratching behind his ear.

“A one time thing,” she answers, shaking her head to clear her mind and pulling her pants up. “Don’t follow me, wait five minutes. Go get some firewood or something,” she insists as she starts back towards the camp, still working on her pants as she walks.

She starts to think about how it might be a very, very bad idea for him to get more firewood, based on the fact that watching him handle the branches is what brought her here in the first place, but before she can think too deeply into it, he says, “as you wish.”

Her heart starts racing, and it’s not because of the heat or because she just had an earth shattering orgasm or because she’s turned on by his physical appearance. She could handle those things.

No, this is something else entirely. And rather than deal with it, she does what she does best and pushes those feelings deep, deep, deep into herself, never planning to address them again.

(She really should just stop making plans.)

~~~~

They spend endless days and nights in Neverland. Time is impossible to keep track of, and it starts to make sense why Neal had kept tic marks on the wall of his cave. The only way she’s able to keep track of how many days pass is by counting the amount of time’s she’s had sex with Killian Jones.

She can’t seem to stop. It started as a one time thing, an itch that needed scratching, but she finds now that she needs the release he gives her more than she needs to sleep. So, each night when they find a place to set up camp, they wait for her parents and Regina to fall asleep and sneak away to find a sturdy tree to fuck against.

On the ninth night, she notices Killian talking to her parents suspiciously and they inform her that Neal is alive, allegedly. As if the prospect of her ex dying and coming back to life in the span of two weeks wasn’t enough for her, he pulls her aside on their way to the Echo Caves and tells her that he was hesitant to tell her because he wanted to spare her feelings until they could confirm that Neal was alive. She scoffs. She has no feelings when it comes to Captain Hook.

They get to the Echo Caves and she learns that he feels the opposite. He’s starting to have feelings for her. Real ones. She stares at him because there’s nothing else she can do, until the ground starts to shake and the bridge starts to build itself.

She tells Neal the truth. He hurt her so much, but she knows that a part of her will always love him. It kills her to admit it to herself, never mind to him.

She fucks Hook angrily that night, with him lying on his back atop his stupid coat and her riding him mercilessly until she feels some semblance of control over herself. They’re far too close to the camp for how loud she is, but when they return, she’s certain everyone is still fast asleep.

The two grown men fight over a lighter. Neal gets grabbed by a shadow and she’s frozen. Hook gets grabbed by one and she screams and summons enough magic to light the fucking candle. She ignores the feelings of relief at him being alive when they meet later that night, convincing herself that the extra long kisses mean nothing.

They get Henry back. As much as she’s grateful to be off of that damn island, she almost grieves the loss of her new nightly routine with the stupid asshole.

He knows exactly how to make her tick, so when he finds her on the deck and says something about how he never doubted her for a second, she kisses him just to shut him up. She can’t possibly listen to his praises, filled with emotion and longing and until I met you, so she pushes them aside in favor of the pleasure she knows he’ll bring her.

The truth is, she can deal with everyone else saying things like that to her. When her parents say it, she can rationalize that they’re obligated to encourage her. When Henry says it, it’s because he believes in everyone, not just her. When Neal says it, she doesn’t even believe him at all.

But then Hook says it. She doesn’t want to believe him, but she does. His honest and raw words unhinge her because she has no reason not to believe them. He owes her nothing and has nothing to gain from attempting to woo her because he’s already had her in his bed- well, jungle- countless times. So she believes him. And she’s terrified.

So she continues to do what she does best. She ignores her feelings until she can’t anymore, and she deals with them by replacing them with the pleasure he brings her. A part of her tells her that she can’t continue doing this, but a bigger part of her tells her that it’s okay, because once they get back to Storybrooke, he’ll leave in favor of the sea or of finding another realm to pillage and plunder. Once he’s gone, she can forget any of this ever happened and move on.

It’s a perfect plan, except it doesn’t work. Because he stays.

#csnlny #captain swan #neverland new year #neverland #cs smut #neverland smut #cs ff

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Title: Bite

Summary: To say the least, Hange's last month of pregnancy turned out a little bumpier than what Levi would would have liked it to be.

A New Year's piece of Levihan Domestic Fluff. Happy New Year everyone!

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I know I've been writing a lot of fluff lately but yeah, just me coping with this being my first ever New Year's stuck at home with our family not together this year. Sorry for my French but Fuck Covid.

The house was quiet.

But that's how Levi wanted it. Hange was eight months pregnant after all. When she was carrying a fragile growing mini person inside her, he would rather she stayed quiet anyway. The peace and calm of the household was an improvement from the clack of rock to wood and her humming. It was a sign at least that Hange was finally getting the well needed rest that came with carrying an extra human.

But it was just a little too quiet. Too quiet for it to ever be comfortable for Levi. Levi had to note that it was past noon and Hange should have been up, playing around with whatever rocks she had on the workbench or at least sitting on the sofa reading a random book from the bookshelf in the dining room.

She probably stayed up late last night. Levi thought to himself. That thought was quickly shot down when Levi recalled that she had actually slept much earlier than him.

Of course, she's eight months pregnant. Levi attempted to scramble for other reasons for that silence as he started to give in to the nagging worry. When Hange was home, she was always making noise. Levi found it almost eerie that the noise levels were down to when Hange was out for work. All he could hear were the clatter of pans as he placed them on the sink and the simmer of the fire as he started to prepare lunch.

After I finish making lunch I'll check on her. Levi promised himself.

Levi had been up since five and had not entered the room again since then. It was for good reason. Hanger was notably crankier than usual, particularly in the mornings. Carrying an extra human to term had her having rough days every day and Levi just wanted to be a little more careful with his cards.

He turned on the radio by the kitchen window. Having an extra voice at least even if it wasn't Hange worked to alleviate some of that discomfort. He had started on reorganizing one of the cupboards when the radio whirred to life.

Hearing the man on the radio was oddly comforting. He never did leave the house as often as Hange so the radio had been his anchor to real life. With Hange home more often, he never needed to turn it on, Hange always had her own personal talkshow going on when she wasn’t asleep. Either that or he was too busy worrying about her to even have time to focus on the happenings that day.

For the first time in so long, he had the time. Enjoy it while you can. Levi told himself as he started to ponder what the news of the day would be. Having lived a long life constantly being chased in the underground that eventually evolved into a life killing man eaten giants, Levi found listening to the societal problems that plagued Paradis almost calming.

He had been dubbed ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ and had been fighting man eating beasts and preventing the fall of humanity for a huge part of his life. Yet at present, most problems that made their way to Paradis were at least solvable by the average conscripted soldier or the average office worker. More than half the time, no one was actually in danger of dying. A significant improvement from the Paradis he grew up in.

Listening to the happenings on the radio, he was reminded of the joys of retirement. He indulged himself by listening to the last few parts of a radio drama and news on preparations for the fireworks festival that night.

The world is so peaceful. Levi had been daring enough to think that statement to himself.

“Breaking news!” It was as if the radio had sentience and read his mind, wanting to prove Levi wrong as if to say ‘the world will never be completely peaceful.’ “We just received word of a hostage situation in one of the warehouses in the Southern port.”

A wave of panic ended up running through him. It could have been from the tone of the reporter or Levi’s own instincts. Calm down. You’re not a soldier anymore. This isn’t your problem. It wasn’t at all new for Levi to react like that internally. He had an unnaturally strong sense of urgency having lived a life of danger for too long. He willfully brushed it off and attempted to focus instead on cutting the vegetables for the soup he was making for lunch.

“More information is coming in…”

Having spent most of his days alone in the house with nothing but a radio for a companion, Levi had mastered the art of multitasking, being able to pick up all the details of the radio article over the sound of the pots and pans, the sound of plates being stacked or the whistle of the kettle.

A gang car jacked one of the buses on the way out of the Southern port.

Gang holds hostage in the port fireworks which were slated to be sent to the capital for Paradis’ first ever New Years Celebration...

The fireworks were ordered more than a year ago…

Levi knew enough at least to understand what would have pushed people to steal them. Hange had mentioned it once during one of her rambles. She had been the one who had suggested they buy fireworks from Marley and celebrate New Years more than a year ago. It was apparently a highly anticipated festivity every year in Marley and having been so excited at the idea of celebrating it in Paradis, Hange went overboard with the organization. They had sent people to Marley to train with handling fireworks and had gone over multiple displays before deciding on one, which ended up being one of the more expensive options.

But it will be beautiful. Those words echoed once again in Levi’s head. He recalled seeing stars in her eyes as she said it.

Eventually Armin had taken over and with Hange’s hand out of the project, Levi had forgotten about it until he heard the details of the hostage situation over the radio. I wonder what Armin’s doing about it. A food for thought he reflected on while he prepared the ingredients for boiling.

“The police are assessing the situation as we speak.” Levi was aware they couldn’t give the exact details, the hostage takers could be listening in.

Another report came in a few seconds later. "The escaped hostages have confirmed the hostage takers do not have a radio on site. No chance of them listening in."

Levi found himself silently commending the escaped hostages for noting such a small detail. He hadn’t expected civilians to be that sharp especially in such a stressful situation.

“We escaped through the vents with one brave woman’s help but she had to stay behind.”

“How many are left inside the warehouse?”

“Just her.”

“Couldn’t she escape with you?”

“No sir. She doesn’t fit.”

“Doesn’t fit?"

“She looked like she was at least eight months pregnant.”

A pregnant woman in a hostage situation? Levi’s ears perked up at that. His thoughts flew to whoever that woman’s poor husband could have been. He had his own pregnant wife after all so he was quick to sympathize. Despite not believing in a god, he found himself sending prayers to that phantom husband. I hope someone at least informed him.

Levi kept his attention on the radio news as he mixed the ingredients and the spices for the soup.

“We have to get her out soon then.”

“She said she’d be fine. She even called the hostage takers amateurs.”

Levi was familiar with hostage situations though to know it was in their interest to keep their hostages alive. When taking the risk though, losing meant losing a life and Levi found himself sympathizing with whoever was left. Maybe I should call Armin? After I wake up Hange.

“But she could end up dead.”

“She said they wouldn’t.. On the off chance they did, she could defend herself.” Despite having just come out of a hostage situation and seeming concerned about a pregnant companion they had left behind, the woman talking on the radio seemed convinced that the pregnant woman could take care of herself.

How can an eight month pregnant woman defend herself though? Levi was starting to get a little more interested in the identity of the pregnant woman. There were two possibilities, she was a pregnant woman with a screw loose in her brain or she was an actual genius, Maybe he could ask Hange to ask Armin about it and they could learn a thing or two from her.

“She used to be in the military… And apparently had dealt with worse situations before."

So she was from the military? The military was a small community and Levi was sure he should know who it was. Was anyone pregnant though… Other than Hange?

Levi had racked his brain for a few seconds considering all the possibilities. Except one.

He did not know how many minutes he had spent considering the other possibilities before moving on to the exception. Yet that possibility was just outrageous. So outrageous that Levi had to ask Hange even if it meant waking her up from her nap.

Sorry for interrupting your sleep Hange, I just heard about an eight month pregnant woman who used to be part of the military and got taken hostage in a warehouse by the port. Just wanted to make sure it wasn’t you. Levi rehearsed his lines quickly as he made his way to the bedroom. It sounded ridiculous the second time he repeated it to himself. At that point though, it seemed worth it.

Levi’s heart started to beat faster as he entered the room, he could almost hear it. It could have been from the fear of waking up that lump on the other side of the bed or the fear of finding out it was just a pillow.

He never found out where that fear came from. It turned out the pillow was just a lump. Before Levi could even process his bodies’ reaction to the suspense and that harsh realization, his body went into survival mode. It came as a torrent of unintelligible emotions reminiscent of his fights against the beast titan and the invasion of Marley.

Just like it did then, his survival mode switched on and his instincts took over. Levi’s body was moving much faster than his brain. He called a taxi to take him to the port.

It was an option ten times more expensive than the shuttle but the price was the last thing on his mind.

Bite

The crowds on the port were large and Levi was disappointed to find out that many of the people there were uniformed policemen. He pushed his way through the crowd clutching one of the men in the front by their collar. “Why the hell are you not moving? You probably outnumber the hostage takers at this rate!”

“But sir… we don’t have orders. And there’s one more civilian inside.” The uniformed policeman who had answered Levi seemed a little too unsure and inexperienced that just listening to him made Levi miss his comrades in the survey corps all the more. That man looked like he had never fought in his life.

“Fuck this, I’m going in.”

“Sir are you sure? I think those men inside are armed with some very high end guns. We can never be too careful.”

Armed with what? Levi had been pitted against guns, thunder spears, man-eating giants and the king of all these founding titans. Despite the big ham the policeman was making those weapons out to be, Levi was not nervous at all.

He ran towards the building and in that few seconds vacillated between breaking through the window and bursting through the door. He had to act fast. Behind him, he could hear soldiers and policemen screaming at him to stay back and if he allowed himself a brief moment to stop and consider the situation, they might actually catch up.

Levi took a glance at one of the windows as he ran. The guns were on the table. Their guard was down. Levi found himself all the more disappointment at the policemen as he did. How the fuck is anybody not noticing that.

He crashed through the window where he had seen the guns on the table.

He never gave them time to pick up the guns. Even during that small moment Levi had allowed them as he took stock of the situation, they did not even attempt to dive for a weapon.

Levi and Hange did not have many things that could have served as a weapon in the house. Having only allowed himself a few seconds to get ready, Levi used the time to turn off the stove and cover the pot he had used to cook the soup. The only thing that he had managed to grab then was the vegetable knife that sat on the board he had used to cut vegetables that morning.

Levi though had worked with knives for years. He had also mastered the art of looking menacing even with the most mundane household objects as weapons. Even if he didn’t look menacing and the five hostage takers weren’t frozen on the spot, Levi was sure he still had enough agility left inside him to slit all their throats before they could shoot the gun. Preserving life had always been part of his principles though and he found himself giving the men the luxury to talk.

“Please! Don’t kill us!” One of the men begged as he fell to his knees. The others soon followed suit.

“You take hostages and you expect us not to attack?”

“We just needed money. Just give us money for the fireworks and we’ll be off your backs.” The first man who had kneeled explained. He looked to be their leader.

Levi kept his eye on the weapons on the table as he listened to the men. “This is a crime. I should be turning you in.” He had expected that to at least provoke the men. Alas, he had expected too much from them. All they did was kneel on the floor in defeat, their eyes downcast.

He approached the guns on the table and he could hear the men whimper as he did.

“The guns are broken,” one man said nervously. “We couldn’t get them to shoot.”

Of course you won’t get them to shoot. They need to be loaded first. Levi knew those guns too well. They were the guns Kenny and his police used after all. He had been at the end of that muzzle enough times to last a lifetime.

These hostage takers are amateurs. Levi had to admit, Hange probably would have been fine in this situation even if he didn’t show up.

“Where are your hostages?” Levi did not need to focus on the guns. Even if the men dove for them, Levi was sure they wouldn’t be able to shoot them.

Levi heard a kick behind him and one of the men nervously made his way beside Levi. “Over here… er sir.”

He was led to a dark room at the end of the hall. He kicked the door open, not bothering to wait for the man next to him to get the key.

The door opened to a room with many empty chairs lined up, one of them occupied by someone, someone Levi recognized almost instantly by the large belly and the fact that he had been seeing that face everyday for the past five years of his life.

Hange was there, sitting on a chair her hands tied behind her. As she looked up at them, Levi could see she had a face of overexaggerated terror for a while. For that split second, she was faking it. Levi had known her enough to know that. Within that second, it had twisted into something else, guilt and possibly actual terror.

“Levi… it’s nice to see you here,” She said. Levi had been with her enough to see that was the terror she exuded when she knew she had done something wrong.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at home?” Levi kept his voice cool, calm, feigning an expression of fake surprise. He was sure Hange would see through it. In fact, he wanted her to see through it.

“I would have been home by noon.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

Hange avoided his gaze. “The fireworks. I wanted to make sure they got to the capital safely.”

“You are an eight month pregnant woman on fucking leave. Why the fuck can’t you leave this to Armin.” He asked in the form of a statement. A statement he very much wanted her to reflect on.

“Armin and Mikasa are on a business trip to Marley. Besides, these are the expensive fireworks I ordered,” Hange explained. A shitty explanation which Levi refused to buy.

“The expensive fireworks Paradis ordered. We’re going home.” He approached Hange, ready to cut up the ropes behind her only to see there was nothing tying her to the chair. Of course. The others had gotten away. And the only person who could have helped them was Hange.

He noticed their means of escape in the form of a vent. It was closed yet, somehow Levi could tell it had been disturbed by its relative cleanliness when compared to the room that was covered in a layer of dust.

For a second, he had considered going out through there. The layer of dust and the large belly of Hange only made it a not too appealing option. “We’re going out through the front door and----”

And we’re leaving the rest to the police. They should be competent enough to arrest them at least. Levi would have wanted to say. That was until he heard the sound of gunshots.

Not the gunshots from the old military police guns. Those are the police guns.

“We surrender!”

The next thing he heard was an explosion then unfamiliar pops.

“The fireworks!” It was Hange who had answered that question of what that popping was. From seeing her crestfallen face, Levi was sure she had not intended to answer his question.

“We’re going out through the vent then.” He pulled Hange from her seat, making a silent apology to the baby inside her. “Can you hold your stomach in?” A dumb question to ask his pregnant wife but Levi was desperate.

It turned out though she didn’t need to squeeze her way through. The vent had been big enough for her to fit through without having to hold her stomach in.

And Hange should have known that. Hange wasn’t an idiot. In fact, Levi was sure she had better spatial reasoning skills than him, seeing as she had been in charge of the recent infrastructural developments over the years.

When he had carried her far away enough from the fire and the consequent blast, he had started to understand why she had been so adamant not to leave in the first place.

“The fireworks!” Hange was kneeling on the grass, a safe distance away from the blast and sobbing. “We paid so much for this Levi… This was supposed to be our first New Years celebration…” The intelligible words devolved into babble and Levi wondered whether that kind of emotional stress would be good for the baby.

At least, the hostage takers had gotten out safely. Levi thought, a desperate attempt to see light in the situation.

Bite

“So let me get this straight. You stayed behind on purpose?” It had been a good few hours since the incident and it still took Levi some effort to talk to her calmly. Levi understood at least that he had a duty not to cause her any more stress especially right after what had happened.

She had shut herself in the room for a good hour or so as soon as they had gotten back. Levi had made sure to check on her a few times since then since she was almost as quiet as that pillow that had pretended to be Hange that morning. By evening, her face was still red and her eyes swollen.

To Levi’s relief, she had replied, a significant improvement from her catatonic state. “We were looking forward to some grand festivities and those fireworks were expensive.…” Hange mentioned the cost of the fireworks and Levi was sure that amount was the fund of the survey corps for one year.

With the price of the fireworks, he was somehow starting to sympathize at least. “You sure we don’t need to go to the hospital?” He asked, his voice a little gentler.

“No, it’s okay I’m fine.”

Levi did believe her. She had little to no scratches on her and she was still walking normally at least. It was her almost catatonic state which troubled him. He could give that until the next day. “We still have next year for fireworks,” he said, an attempt to comfort her.

A moment later, he started to hear the familiar popping. “Is that fireworks? I thought they got destroyed?”

“Yeah, those are the normal fireworks. The ones I wanted to see were the expensive ones I ordered last year.”

So we had fireworks already? Levi found himself moving to the kitchen mechanically, with the one goal of making himself a cup of tea. If he allowed himself any emotion then, he probably could have strangled Hange at that moment. “If you wanna see the fireworks, you can go down.” Just another precaution, he set for himself so at least he was a safe distance from her

The kitchen was near the window and although they were in one of the upper floors, he should be able to hear Hange’s footsteps as long as the windows were open and he concentrated enough.

The tea was calming and it kept him more alert to Hange’s footsteps. Just in case she did something else stupid. He wasn’t at all feeling trusting that particular night.

He had expected to hear footsteps, leather on wood or cement. For a few minutes, that was what he was hearing.

A few minutes later, he heard something he hadn’t expected to hear at all. In fact it was something he probably wouldn’t have had to listen closely to hear.

A loud squeak then a surprised scream from Hange.

Bite

The last place Levi would have expected to spend New Years was in the hospital.

He had expected Hange to have done things during her pregnancy which would have ended up with a hospital visit. Never in his life would he have thought that it would have been from a rat bite and it would have been eight months into her pregnancy during New Years day.

“I tried to sit on the dumpster because it had the best view and there was a rat there...” Hange explained to the doctor from her bed in the emergency room.

Levi had stayed silent as Hange went into detail. He tried to tune it out himself, knowing ‘bitten by a rat’ was all he needed to hear for his whole body to shudder. Being drenched in titan’s blood seemed like a better alternative.

“I recommend you stay overnight. We’re uhh… going to have to talk to some doctors in Marley about this. I don’t think we’ve ever had a case of a woman getting bitten by a rat in her third term. We’ll have the nurse set you up with a room.” With that, the doctor left and it was just Hange and Levi together in that little corner of the emergency room.

Hange lay back on the hospital bed, her belly making a giant hill on top of her. It was so unnaturally large that Levi realized he wouldn’t be too surprised if the baby came out at any moment.

“You know Levi, I think he enjoyed today. He was kicking my belly back in the warehouse,” Hange quipped playfully as she rubbed her belly. Levi noted that the line that connected to Hange’s hand must have been some sort of painkiller or sleep drought. Hange’s smiling face was a brief respite from her crying face that afternoon, even if it was medicine-induced.

“Or maybe he thought you were a complete idiot.”

“You know… When I heard the window crash, the baby kicked harder… I think he knew daddy was coming to save us.”

“Or maybe he knew mommy didn’t need saving after all.” Levi returned her playful smile with a glare.

“Hey, you had fun. It was just like the old days...”

Fun? Levi wouldn’t have used that word at all. Getting shot at and being almost eaten on a regular basis wasn’t fun. Not knowing when you would die wasn’t fun. As Hange had mentioned the word ‘old days,’ Levi did start to realize he had been a little disappointed to see the men hadn’t shot at him.

He put a hand to his forehead. “Do I actually miss fighting?” He pressed harder into his forehead as if that action was enough to push some sanity back into his brain. No one should be missing a war. “Hey Hange, do you miss it?” He wanted to search for some assurance at least that he wasn’t the only one slightly insane.

He looked back at Hange to see the latter had dozed off, her face fixed into a warm comfortable smile, her hand resting on her belly.

He didn’t know how long he had been staring. It could have been minutes or hours. His trance though had been broken by one greeting of “Happy New Year!” then a few soft cheers and some light clapping. Levi wasn’t too worried that Hange would wake up. She looked to be in a deep sleep.

Levi put his hand on hers, and even with one hand beneath his and the belly, he still felt it, a light small kick. He’s coming out soon.

He leaned close to her ear, taking in the rare sounds of her relaxed breathing before he whispered his own greeting. “Happy New Year… Next year we’ll see the fireworks together, all three of us.”

It was a promise only he would have remembered. But it was a promise he vowed to keep.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #fanfic

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artzychic27 · 3 years

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Reverstrator

‘This is perfect, astoundingly perfect.’, Lila thought to herself, hunched over her computer. For some time, she’s noticed her control over the class was wavering, and it was all because of those two idiots from the stupid art club- Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel. They had some nerve, getting into her minions friends heads and pointing out flaws in her lies. It wasn’t her fault people wanted to hear so many of her stories; she just had trouble keeping up with them sometimes! Lila gave them a chance like she gave Marinette. Either believe her lies and keep their friends, or become social pariahs... They always choose the second option.

So, she went around claiming that Nathaniel stole some of her drawings, Marc plagiarized some of her essays, and she even threw in a couple of lies about Marinette, saying she convinced the two boys to go against her. But what Lila didn’t account for was Alix. She never really believed her lies either. Apparently, the famous skateboarder Lila told her about was dead so that got the pink-haired girl suspicious. Whenever Lila tried to make Marc, Nathaniel, or Marinette look like the bad guys, Alix would step in and act like their self-righteous white knight. Well, she won’t look like the hero tomorrow, her and Adrien. When those idiots in her class turn against those two, Lila will be free to ruin the comic book duo’s reputation as she pleased, she’ll have Adrien all to herself, and Marinette gets to suffer. Win-win-win! ‘Damn it!’, Lila mentally cursed as she glared at her computer screen, ‘Undo... Undo...’

How is photoshop so easy for some people?! And how can they edit these crappy romantic pictures without gagging? Especially this photo she snapped of Marc and Nathaniel a couple of weeks ago while they were on one of their dates. ‘Ugh.’ Lila nearly threw up when she took the photo, and this was taking up way too much of her time. Fixing the lighting, finding the right photos of Adrien and Alix, it was so frustrating! But it’ll all be worth it tomorrow when she finally puts those losers in their place

And hopefully, Marc or Nathaniel will get akumatized. Sure, this would be a stupid reason, but people have gotten Akumatized for less. Hawkmoth was a great guy and the Italian admired his work, but Akumatizing a baby, and a man obsessed with pigeons like thirty times? If she had the Butterfly miraculous, she would at least give the Akuma a gun. Then Ladybug would finally perish and be out of her hideous sausage hair.

‘Focus! You can fantasize about her death later.’

—

“Geez, Nath. I haven’t seen you look this happy in a long time,” Alix said as she poked her redhead friend who had a dreamy look on his face with her pencil “So, what’d you and Marc do last night?” she asked with a smirk, making Nathaniel snap out of his daze and blush madly, “Alix!” He looked around the cafeteria to make sure no one heard that

She snickered, “I’m kidding! Come on, tell me what happened. Your date had to have been amazing if you’re all happy and stuff.”

This is one of the things Nathaniel loved about Alix; she was a great listener. Growing up, no one really paid attention to him. Ever since his dad left, his mom has been busy running the diner, he always blended in with the background so no one at school noticed him either. It sucked until he met his first real friends

His mom took him to the Louvre when she noticed his interest in art and while there, he met a brunette girl running all around the museum while a ten-year-old boy tried to catch her. She was loud, energetic, and immediately took a liking to the young boy. Over time, she was able to pull him out of his comfort zone and he listened to whatever he had to say.

Then he met three other girls when he was ten- One with black hair, one blond, and one bluenette. The four of them met at a fine and performing arts fair and were probably some of the youngest people there to enter each of their work in the fair contests. His painting of the Seine took third, which wasn’t too bad. First and second were high school students. The three girls immediately went to congratulate him and asked all sorts of questions (The black-haired girl didn’t talk as much, though) For once in his life, Nathaniel had friends. Friends who noticed him and listened.

“Well, it wasn’t much,” he answered with a smile, “We just got ice cream from Andre’s, went to this new museum that just opened up, went to the park.”

“Didn’t it rain a little yesterday?”, she asked

“Yeah,” he blushes, “I may have used my blazer to cover us up-”, off Alix’s snicker, he playfully slapped her arm, “Alix, come on!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”, she continued laughing while Nathaniel gave her an annoyed look, “Go on, continue. But if you say anything else like that, don’t expect me to keep a straight face.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes, “So I used my blazer as an umbrella,” he rephrased, “and well, we were just so close, and... God, he looked cute in the rain. So, I just leaned in and kissed him.”

Alix sighed dramatically, “Ah, to be gay and in love.”

“Uh, I’m bi,” he corrected with his arms folded

“Yes, and I’m aroace, Rose and Jules are lesbians and Mari’s pan as hell. These are things we know.” she said as she leaned back into her chair and propping her feet up on the lunch table, relaxed before perking up and asking, “Did’ja give him the necklace?!”

Without saying a word, Nathaniel pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of him and Marc kissing in the rain. Alix zooms in on the silver half-heart necklaces around their necks. She remembered how Nathaniel begged her to help him look for a gift he could give to Marc on their date. She helped him in exchange for a drawing of her performing some skating tricks. It took hours to find a gift; this is one of the reasons why Alix doesn’t date. Finally, they settled for a simple, but sweet silver heart necklace and Alix had never been so relieved to see jewelry before.

Alix couldn’t help but let out an out-of-character squeal at the sight of the picture. Her excitement turned to bitterness when she looked at something else that made her narrow her eyes “Where’s she going?”

Nathaniel follows her gaze and glared at the Italian girl leaving the cafeteria, “Don’t know. Maybe she’s just looking for more people to buy her lunch.”

“Or carry all of her stuff.”

“Or carry her.”

“Or build her a palanquin.”

“How about a monument made out of solid gold?”

At that last one, the two best friends laughed

“Lying skeeze,” she muttered, “I’m glad the others are sorta taking what she says with a grain of salt, but she’s still got them wrapped around her talons. Especially Bustier and Damocles.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the mention of his teacher and principal, “Ugh, don’t get me started on those two. I almost got detention because Lie-la claimed that I stole her ‘masterpiece’. Thanks again for backing me up.”

Alix responded with a nod, “Yeah, but it’s bull that she didn’t even get in trouble. Claimed it was a problem with her long-term memory or some shit, and Bustier ate it up!”, she exclaimed, “God, we’re surrounded by idiots. How long do you think she’s gonna last?”

Nathaniel pondered before answering, “I give her one more week. She’s exposed by an Akuma who’s after her for lying about them or one of their friends.”

Alix nodded, “Three days. Truth akuma who just blasts people at random and she gets hit, so she’s forced to tell the truth. Put that in your comic”

Nathaniel reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out his sketchbook, “Maybe something like... Lady or Lord Justice?” He pulls out a pencil and begins sketching on a blank sheet

“Truth fairy?”

“Lie-on Tamer?”

Alix shook her head, “Now that just sounds like a bad pun.”

“Akumas have dumb names,” Nathaniel said with an eye roll, “If anything, this is better than what Hawkmoth comes up with.”, he gets back to work on the sketch

“... Can’t argue with you there, man.”

—

“Come o-o-o-on, Marc! Tell us everything!”, Aurore urged the shy writer as the group of four made their way to Mme. Mendelieve’s class

“Who made the first move?”, Julian asked, smirking

Marc blushed, “Guys, keep your voices down.”

Mireille squealed, “Sorry, but you can’t just go on a date and not expect people to be all excited and ask what happened! So tell us!”

Marc loved these three to death and loved them like they were his sisters and brother, but sometimes they got just a little too much for him. When he first announced that he and Nathaniel were dating, the three of them wouldn’t leave him alone for weeks and constantly asked questions whenever they went out together

“Well, went out for ice cream, went to a museum we both like, and spent the rest of the day at the park before it rained.” He smiled fondly at the memory, “Nath actually used his blazer to cover us up.”

“Aww!”, Aurore and Julian cooed while Mireille squealed, “So romantic! Please tell me you kissed in the rain!”

When Marc tried to hide the blush forming on his cheeks, that was a good enough answer for his grinning friends

Julian clasped his hands together and crouched a little lower, “Please, please tell me you have photos!”

Marc laughed at his friend and pulled out his phone, “I do.” He shows them the screen and Aurore immediately grabs the phone out of his hand. Mireille and Julien huddle around her, “Oh my God! It’s like a scene from a movie!”, Mireille exclaimed before squinting her eyes, “Wait... Are you wearing the necklace now?!”

“Necklace?”

“He gave you what?”

Marc knows there’s no hiding it from the people who were very invested in his love life now. He slips his hand under the collar of his shirt and pulls out the little half-heart charm connected to a simple white cord. Marc was once again bombarded by questions

“Guys, can we do this after class? We’re gonna be late.”

Aurore let out an exaggerated groan but complied, “You better be prepared for any question we throw at you, Rainbow.” She said his nickname teasingly as the four of them made their way to class, but stopped to look and see Lila walking out of the locker room

“How long is she gonna be here?”, Julien questioned, his tone laced with venom, “I can’t take another minute of, ‘Oh, but all of her stories are real,’ ‘Don’t be so mean,’ ‘Lila’s hurt, don’t put any more pressure on her,’ ugh! Marc, I’ll say it again, your boyfriend and cousin’s class is full of idiots.”

“Well, their hearts are in the right place, they’re just being taken advantage of.”

“It’s been like three months since she, ‘Returned from Achu,’” Aurore said with finger quotes, “How has that lying fox not been exposed yet? Everything she says is full of holes!”

“It’s because whenever someone tries to point out her lies, she’ll play the victim and get sympathy,” Mireille said, disgusted, “It’s honestly just sickening listening to her fake crying.”

“Here, here,” Julian said in agreement, “I cannot wait for a truth Akuma to appear and just make her reveal everything so her classmates and that teacher will finally stop kissing the ground she walks on.”

“That would make for a pretty good Akuma,” Marc commended

“Hell yeah, it would.”

—

‘One for the soulless redhead. And one for that... “boy.”‘, the Italian sneered as she slipped an envelope into the vent of Marc’s locker, ‘Let’s see if they’re still together after this. Once Alix is out of the picture and Adrien only has me to talk to, I’ll ruin those losers’ lives. They should know damn well than to cross Lila Diabla Rossi.’

Nathaniel felt like someone was burning holes in the back of his head... Or rather the side. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he moved his bangs to the side, acting as if he was just scratching the side of his face, and saw Lila glaring at him before quickly looking to the front. ‘God, what’s her problem?”, he thought to himself. ‘Probably gonna spout out more bullshit about how I stole her work. Heh. Good luck you vursht-kherd ligner.’

The bell rang, ‘Finally. I get to see my Rainbow.’, Nathaniel thought as he gathered his books in his bag. He was about to grab his sketchbook, only for it to be snatched by Lila. ‘Great, now I have to disinfect it.’

“Oh, Nathaniel! I’m so sorry about what happened!”, she “apologized” in that over-the-top sweet voice. “I just have so many problems with my memory because while I was helping disabled children in America, I fell off of a ladder while trying to get their frisbee off the roof of one of their homes, and I hit my head.”

‘Maybe that isn’t a lie, because that would explain so much.’, “Okay, so can I have my sketchbook back?”, he asked in a bored tone

“And I draw Ladybug all the time because we are besties after all!”, she exclaimed

“Great, so my sketchbook?”, he holds out his hand

“And your little drawings look so much like mine, and I got concerned. I’m sure you understand, right?”

“Can I have my sketchbook back?”, He repeated, now very annoyed, and even more when Lila sent him a smirk she didn’t think he noticed. ‘This bitch is trying to make me lose my temper or something?’ Then she just started talking again

“I know how awful it is for an artist’s work to be stolen! I actually witnessed art-theft first-hand, so you get why I accused you of stealing what I thought was mine. I just didn’t want to believe that you would steal a fellow artist’s work.”

‘God, strike me now.’

“But if you stole it out of jealousy, I would completely understand.”

“... Excuse me?”

‘Got him.’ “Well, let’s face it. Your art style is a little overused and no offense, but, not very original. So, if you were jealous of my drawing style, then there are no hard feelings. You’re still an amazing artist. While I’ve studied and perfected my work over the years, you-”

“Oh meyn got! Zey shtil!”

The students who were packing away their materials and getting ready to head out turned their heads towards the redhead who was shouting furiously in Yiddish

“Ir zent nisht a farshiltn kinstler! An anoying, lignerish hur iz vos ir zent!”

Alix, who actually understood a little of what Nathaniel was saying, tried not to snicker

“Aun gebn mir meyn sketshbook, ir vursht-kherd tokhes!” At that last sentence, Nathaniel snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, then he looked around and saw the shocked or confused looks on his classmates' and teacher’s faces. He ducked his head down, trying to look as small as possible right now

Breaking the silence was Alya, “What did you say?”

“It... It was...” Nathaniel stammered and his face turned as red as his hair.

Max turned to the little robot hovering beside him, “Markov, can you translate what Nathaniel just said?”

“Certainly, Max,” a little pixelated hourglass appeared the screen on the little robot’s face before disappearing with a little ‘PING!’, “Oh my.”

“Oh, what did he say?”, Lila asked as innocently as possible.

“I’m not comfortable repeating the last two, but he did tell you to shut up, and that you have sausage hair.”

“Oh, crap,” Nathaniel muttered

Lila started rubbing her eyes to make it look like she’s crying right now. “Nathaniel, how could you be so rude?! I was only trying to help you!”, Alya and Mylene went over to console her, not noticing the smirk on her face. The classmates that were on Lila’s side sent the redhead glares and disappointed looks

Mme. Bustier frowned, “Nathaniel, go to the principal’s office, now!”, before Nathaniel could respond, Marinette spoke, “You can’t do that. It’s the end of the day, so you can’t tell Nathaniel what to do,” she sent her enabler of a teacher a sneer

“W-well, I-”

“Check the rule book!”, Alix snapped, “Students are out of teachers’ jurisdiction as soon as school hours are over. So, you can’t send him to detention.”

“But he called me horrible things!”, Lila wailed

“Well, it’s not his fault,” Juleka whispered, but everyone heard and turned their heads toward her, “... He has bipolar disorder, and sometimes he just... Yeah.” Rose takes over for her, “And you did take his sketchbook, Lila. I saw you snatch it off the table before he could grab it.”

“W... Well, I just wanted to see it!” She claimed

“Doesn’t give you the right to snatch it,” Nathaniel murmured. Marinette walked over and took his hand, “Let’s go.” The five art club students made their way to the door, but Mme. Bustier called out, “Hold on! Nathaniel still needs to be punished for using such language in class!”

Alix rolled her eyes, “Did anyone in the class, besides Markov, understand what he said?”, all she got in response were head shakes and some muttering, “Did anyone hear any curse words?”, once again, head shakes. She turned to Mme. Bustier and shrugged, “As long as he doesn’t say it in French, I don’t really think you can punish him. He said it in a language none of us knew, so you can’t really punish him for cursing in class.”

Bustier’s face turned red in embarrassment. A student just corrected her in front of her own class. Before she could say more, the five of them were gone.

—

“Nath, that mouth!”, Alix cackled, “That was priceless!”

Marinette smiled, “I wish I knew more Chinese so I can cuss Lila out in class. The only curse word I know is húndàn.”

Nathaniel blushed, “Thanks for helping me out back there, you guys.”

“Of course, Nath!” Rose hugged him, “Lila stole your sketchbook, you had every right to be upset.” Juleka nodded in agreement

Nathaniel smiled before he realized something, “I left my colored pencils in my locker.” He reluctantly pulled away from Rose’s legendary hug and ran to the locker room, “I’ll catch up with you guys later!”

Once Nathaniel walked into the locker room, he made his way down the row of lockers until he got this. Right between Alix and Nino’s lockers. He put in the combination on the purple lock he brought from home since the school has terrible security. After Marinette’s near expulsion, some of the students bought locks for their easy-to-open lockers so no one could frame them for theft. Damocles tried to stop them from doing this but he was severely outnumbered, and the fact that some of the students had lawyers for parents who could sue the school for not protecting their children’s items made him concede

Once his locker door was open, an envelope fell out as he went to reach for his pencil face. Furrowing his brow, Nathaniel picked up the mysterious envelope he didn’t remember being in his locker. ‘Maybe it’s my report card?... But it’s the middle of the quarter.’, he thought, ‘And why would they put it in my locker?’ With a shrug, Nathaniel opened the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded the paper, and his eyes widened in shock. His jaw hung open, his hands were shaking, and his breathing became unsteady

In his hands was a photo of Marc and Adrien, but not just any photo. It looked like someone took a photo from a distance, but you could make out every detail. The two of them were sitting on a bench in the park, hand in hand, bodies pressed together, and kissing. Nathaniel wanted to cry, to punch Adrien, to throw up. He looked over the picture even though his brain told him not to, but he had to look for something. Watermarks, any signs of smeared paint, anything!... Nothing.

“N-no... No... He wouldn’t... H-he...” He crumples the paper and throws it to the floor, then he makes his way over to the door. When he opens the door, he froze at the sight. Adrien and Marc were walking the stairs, talking. Adrien must’ve said something funny because Marc started laughing. “... Oh my God...” A tear streamed down his heartbroken face which contorted into a scowl. Not able to take another second of this, Nathaniel charged out of the lockers room and ran to the doors, bumping into people along the way, but he didn’t care. He just needed to leave.

Marc laughed, “Oh my God! He really cursed Lila out in Yiddish?”

“Yeah, it was pretty funny,” Adrien chuckled, “If I knew we could do that, I would’ve cursed Lila out weeks ago. But yeah, if he seems a little off in art club, it’s because of Lila.”

“Thanks again, Adrien,” Marc smiled

“No problem. I’ll see you around Marc.”, and he left

Marc still couldn’t believe his sweet boyfriend cursed someone out. But, it was Lila, so he could understand that. He made his way into the locker room and walked over to his locker. He pulled a silver key out of his pocket and uses it on the lock he bought for his locker. Marc’s always been a little protective of his stuff, but after what happened with Marinette and... Her... He and most of the students took action and bought locks for their lockers.

As he opened his locker, he noticed a crumpled ball of paper on the floor. Before Marc could go to pick it up, out of peripheral vision, he saw an envelope fall out of his locker and land on the floor. Marc picked up the envelope he didn’t remember being in his locker before and looked over it to see if anyone write anything like their name. With a shrug, Marc opened the envelope and found a folded piece of paper. With some hesitation, thinking it might be something bad like a photo of something gory or inappropriate, he pulled it out and slowly unfolded it... It was worse.

His widened green eyes scanned over the photo of Nathaniel and Alix, holding hands as they kissed on a bench in the park. He dropped the photo and sat on one of the benches, looking pale and shaking. Then he brought his gloved hands to his face and started crying. “What did I do wrong?”, he asked himself

“Anger, despair. Both caused by an untrustworthy partner, and those who turned out to be false friends. So hard to pick.” Hawkmoth beckoned a butterfly that landed in the palm of his hand. Once covered by his other hand, the butterfly was consumed by dark magic and turned black. Hawkmoth released the Akuma, and it fluttered away, “Fly away my little Akuma, go towards the one who feels the most pain!”

The akuma fluttered over to the school and found its target. Sitting on the steps of the school with his head tucked into his knees was Nathaniel. And while he could sense Marc’s sadness, Nathaniel’s feelings of rage and betrayal were too good to pass up. So, it dived down and flew into the half heart necklace turning it black. He looked up, revealing the Akuma symbol over his face

Once Hawkmoth felt Nathaniel’s emotions, he smirked, “Welcome back Evillustrator. I can assure you, you’ll have your reven-”, Hawkmoth stopped mid-sentence, a look of confusion on his face, “What’s this?”

Marc lifted his head up from his hands, revealing an Akuma symbol over his tear-stained face. And his necklace was now pitch black

Hawkmoth rubbed his temples, obviously overwhelmed by the emotions these two boys were feeling. Anger, sadness, betrayal, disbelief, “Well, there’s no need to choose now. Reverstrator, I am Hawkmoth. With my help, you won’t be separated from the one you love again, no one will come between you. All I ask in return is that you bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”

“Yes, Hawkmoth,” they say in unison. Once the Akuma symbols disappear, the purple and black mist bubbled up from their necklaces and surrounded them. The purple mist that covered Nathaniel went towards the front doors of the school, phased through, and made its way through the courtyard, startling a few students, then it went into the locker room and combined with the mist that covered Marc

The mist lifted up revealing a tall akuma, around Kim’s height, who looks like a fusion of Evillustrator and Reverser. The left side of his face is purple while the left is black, and his lipstick, while the same colors are inverted. The left side of his short-sleeved hoodie is white with black slanted stripes, the hood is black, he has black sleeves with white stripes under the hoodie, and he has white fingerless gloves which reveal black fingers. The other side is inverted. On the front of his hoodie is a black and white circle with the primary colors on it, but one is half yellow and half black. His pants are half black and white, he has a black boot on his right foot and red on his left. His hair is similar to Evillustrator’s but is more downward, the purple tips at the end are now black and white, and he has a black beret. Two noticeable traits about this Akuma is that he has two forearms on each upper arm, and he has four eyes, but two are closed at the moment while the top eyes, which are turquoise, are narrowed.

“I’m coming for you, Agreste.” He summoned Evillustrator’s tablet and pen in his hands

“Man, why isn’t Nath texting back?”, Alix questioned as she continued texting Nathaniel for the sixth time, “He’s been gone for like five minutes.”

“Yeah, and Marc isn’t here either.”, Marinette said, “You think they got... Sidetracked?”

Rose giggled, “Maybe.”

M. Haberkorn intervened, an amused smile on his face, “Now let’s not assume anything. They’re probably helping each other look for something.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”, Juleka said, a hint of playfulness in her monotone voice

Alix shook her head amusedly, “Alright, they get three more minutes, then we gotta go looking for them.” The three other girls nodded in agreement before they heard some screams coming from the courtyard, “Must be another Akuma.”, Alix said. The students and the teacher peaked out of the window and saw the Akuma running rampant around the courtyard

“WHERE IS HE?! WHERE’S ADRIEN AGRESTE?!”

“Who’s that?”, Juleka asked, shocked at the appearance of the enraged Akuma

“Damn, Hawkmoth,” Alix whispered, “you’ve made some weird-looking ones, but this one is just... God.”

“And why does he have Evillustrator’s tablet?”, Marinette piped up when she noticed the familiar Akuma weapon on one of the arms, and in the akuma’s hand was the drawing pen. She took a closer look at the Akuma and noticed a necklace with a heart charm around his neck. The more Marinette took in his appearance, the more she noticed how similar it looked to Evillustrator and Reverser, “Guys, I think that’s Marc and Nathaniel!”

The four looked at her in bewilderment before she urged for them to take a closer look at the Akuma. “It is them!”, Rose exclaimed

“They’re fused like Oblivio,” Juleka said, “How did this happen?”

M. Haberkorn shook his head solemnly, “I don’t know. But the four you need to get out of here before someone gets hurt.” As if proving his point, a loud crash was heard followed by more screaming. “Wait until I say it’s safe.” The four of them nodded. He made his way over to the door and carefully opened it. Peaking his head out, he saw the Akuma was erasing walls to classrooms, trying to find Adrien. His back was turned to the art classroom. “Alright, hurry out,” he whispered

They nodded and quickly ran out of the classroom; M. Haberkorn went to help any of the other students evacuate. Alix, Marinette, Juleka, and Rose ran through the crowd of panicking students, but Marinette stopped suddenly and ran in the direction of the locker rooms while Alix, Juleka, and Rose made it out

She opened her purse, allowing Tikki to fly out, “How do you think this happened?”, Marinette asked the tiny goddess, “I don’t know, but this Akuma is a combination of Reverser and Evillustrator, so you need to be careful. You remember how they were last time.”

Marinette nodded at the memory. Marc and Nathaniel were reckless, hostile, and apathetic as Akumas. Nathaniel almost killed Chloe with a buzz saw, and Marc nearly caused a meteor shower that could’ve destroyed Paris. Fused together, there was no telling what destruction they could cause. Before Marinette could say the phrase and transform, she noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the floor. Curious, she picked it up and opened it, revealing the photo of Marc and Adrien kissing

“What the?”, she whispered. Tikki’s eyes widened, “Well that answers Nathaniel’s akumatization, but what about Marc?” Marinette shrugged, but then noticed a piece of paper by the bench. She picked it up and saw that it was a photo of Nathaniel and Alix kissing. “There’s no way these are real. Marc and Nathaniel would never cheat on each other, Alix is Nathaniel’s best friend, she’s aromantic, and Adrien’s dating Kagami!”, she narrowed her eyes at the fake photos, “Someone must have wanted this to happen, t-to get them to break up, or maybe even deliberately try to get them Akumatized.”

“Well, you can figure this out later!”, Tikki told her chosen

“You’re right.”

TIKKI, SPOTS ON!

“He’s obviously not here, you jerk!”, a voice that sounded a lot like Reverser’s exclaimed

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”, Reverstrator shouted, “Fine. I’ll go look somewhere else.”

“NO! We’re going after Alix first! You let her get away!”

“What’s your deal with her?”, he growled, “She didn’t do anything!”

“Neither did Adrien!”

“Oh, of course, you take his side!”, Reverstrator exclaimed as he drew a boxing glove that punched the front doors open. Before he could walk out, Ladybug’s yoyo wrapped around his waist and flung him into a wall, “Oh, great. You’re here.”

Ladybug retracted her yoyo and spun it, preparing to use it as a shield, “The feeling is mutual! Marc, Nathaniel, whatever happened-”

“DON’T SAY HIS NAME! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT RIGHT NOW!”, he shouted, then drew seven swords, all aimed at Ladybug

From her hiding spot under the stairs, Lila watched the scene unfold with a twisted, unsettling, sadistic grin on her face. “Come on, do it!”, she whispered

Ladybug dodged each sword, quick and easy. They embedded themselves into the courtyard floor and formed small cracks. Lila stomped her foot in frustration and cursed out the Akuma for his failure to kill the spotted heroine, “Stupid akumas can’t do anything right!” Caught up in her ranting, Lila doesn’t notice Aurore standing a few feet away, but still in earshot, recording the battle and her. The blonde weather girl looked appalled.

“HOLD STILL, YOU PEST!”, Reverstrator was becoming angrier and angrier every time Ladybug dodged his drawn weapons. Swords and axes? Avoided and embedded into the ground. Missiles? Uses her yoyo to fling each one into the sky so they don’t destroy Paris. Boxing glove? Jump over it and just let it fly through the holes in the school walls. As she prepared to dodge more attacks, Ladybug noticed Reverstrator holding his head, and it sounded like he was muttering to himself

“God, you suck at this.”

“Well, why don’t you try it if you’re so great at it?”

“Maybe I will!”

“Don’t you dare- AH!”

Reverstrator seemed to go limp above the waist for a moment and stops moving. Ladybug slowly approached him, but stopped when he suddenly straightened up, and she grimaced when a few bones made an audible crack. His turquoise eyes closed and two monochrome eyes below them open up. Evillustrator’s tablet and pen disappear and are replaced with four monochrome paper airplanes sitting in Reverstrator’s hands.

“Let’s try this again! Your powers are useless now! REVERSION!”, Reverstrator hurled the four paper airplanes at Ladybug who acted quickly and shielded herself with her yoyo, blocking each one, “Are you KIDDING ME?!”

“Not so easy, is it?” Evillustrator’s voice snarked

“Shut it!”, Reverstrator yelled to the voice in his head as the glowing Akuma symbol appeared over his face

“Reverstrator, focus!”, Hawkmoth yelled, “I want my Miraculous!”

“Forget this!”

“No!”

Reverstrator’s body convulsed a bit, and as the monochrome eyes closed, the turquoise ones opened, “I’m going after Adrien,” Evillustrator's said, speaking through Reverstrator. His tablet and pen reappeared, which he used to draw a ball and chain around Ladybug’s ankle, preventing her from moving

“Don’t go after the boy!” Hawkmoth commanded, now concerned for Adrien’s safety

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” Reverstrator snapped, “You don’t even care who lives or dies when you send out a damn Akuma every week!”

“Your prime objective is to take the Miraculous!”

“Sure. Right after I give that rich boy what he deserves!” He drew a jetpack on his back and took off. Ladybug wrapped the string of her yoyo around the anklet, and it snapped open due to the strength of the magic weapon. Before she could swing away, Ladybug noticed Lila glaring up towards where Reverstrator flew away. ‘Later,’ she thought to herself before swinging off after Reverstrator.

Adrien, Nathalie, and the Gorilla sit through some traffic. Nathalie scrolls through her tablet, “You have a piano lesson in two hours, then tomorrow after school, another photoshoot...”

Adrien just zones out as she drones on in her monotonous voice. Plagg pokes his head out of his pocket and gives him a bored look as he munches on a piece of cheese. Adrien feels himself dozing off when suddenly- “ADRIEN AGRESTE!”

Nathalie put a protective hand on Adrien’s shoulder and ushered for him to duck down. She looked out the window, seeing nothing but cars and a few people getting out of there to see what’s going on. It was quiet for a moment when suddenly, an arm penetrates the roof, making Adrien let out a yelp as the hand grabbed his head, two more burst through and grab his face. Nathalie reacts, hits the first arm with her tablet, making it recoil, and grabs the other two arms wrists, “Adrien, run!”

With a nod, Adrien bolted out of the car and ran down the sidewalk, catching a glimpse of the Akuma as he rounded a corner and made his way into an alley. Plagg flew out of his pocket, eyes widened, “Did you see that guy?!”

Adrien nodded, “Hawkmoth is officially twisted.”

PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!

Reverstrator finally releases himself from Nathalie’s grip and runs off to find Adrien, “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“Lookin’ for me?!”, Chat Noir’s boot made contact with his stomach, sending him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him, “I know I’m no Adrien Agreste, but you gotta admit, I’m way better.”, he smirked

Reverstrator got back up, “That, we can agree on. Adrien Agreste is a backstabbing two-timer who steals people in relationships!”

“What are you talking about?!”

Chat Noir furrowed his brown in confusion, and he didn’t have time to react when a fire hose drawn by Reverstrator sprayed him with a powerful blast of water. Chat backed away, grabbed his baton, and spun it around so it acted like a shield, deflecting the blast

“Marc, Nathaniel! Stop!”, Ladybug yelled as she dropped in and wrapped her yoyo around Reverstrator

“Don’t call me that! I’m Reverstrator now!” Suddenly, his torso started rotating around rapidly, unwinding Ladybug’s yoyo. Chat surged towards him with his staff ready. Reverstrator grabbed the staff with one set of hands and used the other set to grab Chat Noir by his waist then fling him into the streets. Ladybug threw her yoyo at him, but he managed to catch it just an inch away from his head. Grabbing the string of his yoyo with all of his hands, Reverstrator kept a tight grip as he spun his torso around and then flung Ladybug right into Chat Noir when he abruptly let go of the yoyo

Reverstrator got out his pen and drew a hole on his tablet, then a second later, one appears beneath the heroes and they fall in, “See? That’s how you get rid of heroes!”

“...”

“Oh, silent treatment, huh?!”

“Reverstrator! Why didn’t you take their Miraculous before sending them into the hole?!”, Hawkmoth asked, enraged

Reverstrator rolled his eyes, “They can’t get out of there. I’ll come back for them later.” He leaped onto a roof and made his way to the Agreste mansion

“Oh, I hope Marinette’s okay,” Rose voiced her concern as she, Juleka, and Alix walked back into the school when they saw that Reverstrator was gone

Juleka places a hand on her shoulder, “Maybe she just got separated while we were running. I’m sure she’s okay.”

Alix agreed, “Yeah, she can take care of herself. Maybe she just hid in the locker room.” The three of them walk into the locker room and look around for the pigtailed girl, “Marinette?!” She called out, “Marinette?!”

Juleka knocks on a few lockers, “Marinette? You in here?”

Rose walks out of the bathroom and shakes her head, “I don’t think she’s in here.”

Alix furrowed her brow in confusion, “Okay, maybe she got swept up in a group. Jules, you might be right about her getting separated.” Juleka smiled at that

Rose sighed with relief and then sat down on the bench, “Well, that’s good.” She felt her foot brush up against something and looked down to see the photo face-down on the floor, “Hm?” She picked up the photo, flipped it over, and her eyes widened in shock, “... Alix? Could you take a look at this?” She hands the photo over to Alix. The pink-haired girl gave the photo an incredulous look, “WHAT THE HELL?!” She stomps over to Juleka who’s looking down at something in her hands, “Are you seeing this?! I did not kiss Nathaniel!... Jules?” Juleka shows her and Rose what she’s looking at.

Rose gasped, “That’s why Reverstrator is after Adrien!”

“So if Nathaniel saw this photo, then Marc must’ve seen the other one.” Juleka turns to Alix, “So Reverstrator might be after you next.”

“But I didn’t kiss Nath!” She exclaimed, “And Marc definitely didn’t kiss Adrien!” She takes the photo out of Juleka’s hand and examines both photos, “These had to have been photoshopped, o-or something!”

Rose notices something on one of the photos, “Hey, what’s that?” She points to an orange smudge in the corner of the photo of Alix and Nathaniel kissing, “Looks like nail polish.” Juleka smirks, “Or Nathaniel uses hair dye.”

“Wait.” Alix narrows her eyes at the nail polish stain, “There’s only one person in the whole class who wears orange nail polish.”

“LILA!”, Rose and Juleka said at the same time

Alix nodded, “It makes sense. They know she’s lying too, so of course, she’d pull this shit! We gotta tell them before they go after Adrien!” She’s about to head out of the locker room, but Juleka stops her by placing a hand on her shoulder, “But what about you?” “I’ll be fine. It’s Lila you should be worried about when they find out what she did.” After that, she stormed out of the locker room with Juleka and Rose behind her.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were still in the hole. Ladybug tried using her yoyo to get out, but there was nothing for it to wrap around outside the hole. Chat Noir then wrapped his arms around Ladybug and extended his staff so that they rose out of the hole

“Nice thinking, Chat.” Ladybug commended as Chat shortened his staff

Chat smiled, “Thank you, m’lady. Now let’s go!” He and Ladybug vaulted and swung away

Reverstrator landed on top of a roof and just stands there, “... Why can’t I move? What are you doing?!”

“We need to talk right now!”, Reverser’s voice shouted

“I don’t want to!”, he yelled back while covering his ears, hoping that will block out his voice

“Well, I’m not letting you go until we talk!... Please?”

Reverstrator sighed, “Fine.” The monochrome eyes slowly opened, and immediately a few tears pour out as Reverstrator has a conversation with himself

Reverser speaks through Reverstrator, “... Why would you do this? W-what did I do wrong? I... I love you and you just...” One of his right hands wipes away the tears. Evillustrator speaks through Reverstrator, “I could ask you the same thing. I-I don’t know why you’re mad, but you really hurt me.”

“How did I hurt you? You kissed Alix!”

“W-what?! I never kissed Alix!... Is this why you’re mad at her? You think we kissed?”

“... Yeah.”

“No! That never happened! And I saw the photo of you kissing Adrien!” The turquoise eyes start crying, “Then I saw you and him laughing. An-and I just-”

“Well, that’s only because he was telling me what you said to Lila in class! I-I would never cheat on you. I love you...”

“I’d never cheat on you either, and Alix would never hurt you like that.” Reverstrator’s right hands wipe away the tears forming in the monochrome eyes

“I’d never do something like that to you... But where did the photo come from?”

The turquoise eyes narrowed when they noticed Alix, Juleka, and Rose walking down the sidewalk, “Let’s find out.”

“When I see that girl tomorrow in class, I’m gonna-!”

Reverstrator dropped down right in front of the three girls, startling them and cutting off Alix’s rant, “ALIX!” Upon seeing the menacing glare he was giving their friend, Juleka and Rose shielded Alix from the Akuma

“You better explain why there’s a picture of you kissing Nathaniel!”, Reverser shouted through the Akuma and summoned two paper airplanes in the two left hands

Alix gently nudged Juleka and Rose out of the way and approached the Akuma, but the two girls held onto their friend’s arms for protection, “Nath, Marc...” Hearing Reverstrator let out a low growl, she corrected herself, “Reverstrator, those photos are fake! I never kissed Nathaniel, and Adrien never kissed Marc! We wouldn’t do that!”

Before Reverstrator could say anything, Juleka spoke, “Lila faked those photos. W-we found some of her nail polish smeared on the back of one of them

“That... That...”

“Lignerish shlang!”

Without saying another word, Reverstrator crushed the paper airplanes in his hands and ran off to find the lying Italian who nearly destroyed a beautiful relationship. Alix called out to him, but he was already gone, leaping over the city once again. A second later, Ladybug and Chat Noir land by them. “Are you okay?” Ladybug asked as she checks to see if Reverstrator hurt them in any way

Alix nodded, “Yeah, we’re fine. But it’s Lila that you gotta save.”

Ladybug tried not to show her disgust at the mention of the liar, but Chat Noir wasn’t holding back, “What’d she do now?” he asked bitterly

“’Now?’“ Rose parroted

Chat continued, “Yeah. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s pissed off an Akuma.”

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed, “Not now.” She turned back to Alix, “So what happened?”

“Lila photoshopped a photo so it would look like Marc kissed Adrien, and Nathaniel kissed me,” she explained. Off the heroes’ looks of disgust, she continued, “Yeah, and all because they knew that she was lying!”

Ladybug took a sharp inhale. That liar could ruin her life all she wanted, but rope her friends and cousin into this? There will be hell to pay, “Alright. I guess we have to save her again. The three of you better get to safety.” Then she and Chat swung and vaulted after the Akuma as the three girls just stood there

“We’re gonna see how this goes, aren’t we?” Juleka asked after a few seconds of silence

Alix nodded, “Hell, yeah!” She exclaimed as they began springing in the direction of Reverstrator and the heroes went, “Hey, if we’re lucky, Lila might be exposed in front of everyone.”

Lila was walking on air. Marc and Nathaniel were probably beating that pesky bug to a bloody pulp right now. She was a little miffed that they didn’t slice her open with one of those swords or reverse her powers so she’d be useless as always. And hopefully, when she fails, those two f*gs will become public enemy numbers one and two. She could spin a whole sob story about how they were jealous of her relationship with Ladybug and they’ll be banished from Paris. Maybe she could even throw in something about Marinette and those d*kes she hangs out with. They are close; maybe get the idea of them working for Hawkmoth into those idiots’ heads-

“So, what do you think of doing another interview tomorrow?”

‘Ugh. Remember your fanbase, remember your fanbase,’ Lila reminded herself every time she hung out with Alya, “Alya, that’d be wonderful! I’d love to!” She exclaimed, before quickly dropping her expression, “But I just hope I’ll be okay to do it tomorrow. I’m just so worried about my bestie getting hurt!”

Alya nodded, “Yeah, Reverstrator doesn’t seem like the type of Akuma to hold back. But, I’m sure she’ll be fine... Though, I wonder why Marc and Nathaniel got akumatized in the first place.”

Lila internally smirked, ‘Perfect,’ “You don’t think it was because of me, do you?”

Alya immediately went to comfort her, “Girl, I’m sure it was just something else. Maybe stressed out from their comic, or-”

“But we haven’t been on the best terms lately, and-” She choked back a sob, “I can’t help but feel that I’m the reason they were Akumatized... Or... Maybe they were jealous that I’m friends with Ladybug?”

Alya frowned, “Well then, that’s just not right. Once they go back to normal, we’re gonna confront them about this!”

“ROSSI!”

Parisians cleared the way as Reverstrator dropped down from above and landed in the middle of Pont des Arts. “It’s time to reveal every single one of your lies!” Four monochrome paper airplanes materialized in his hands, “REVERSION!”

Lila ducked out of the way as the planes came for her, and they instead hit a few pedestrians who started revealing everything they’ve lied about, “I-I didn’t do anything! Please, whatever happened, I can help you!” She whined while throwing in a few tears for good measure

“ENOUGH!” Evillustrator’s pen materialized in one of his left hands, and the tablet on his right arm. He began drawing, “You won’t try to tear us apart ever again!” A buzz-saw appeared beside him and spun its way towards the two girls. Not taking any chances, Lila grabbed Alya and put her in front of her like a shield

“LILA?!”, Alya screamed as she struggled to get out of her hold, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The more she struggled, the more Lila’s nails dug into her skin and she let out a pained scream

“Call it off! Erase it!”, “I’m doing it!” The buzz saw was erased from existence, and Alya was safe. Lila pushed Alya to the ground then ran away. Reverstrator was about to run after her, but when he saw the look of betrayal on Alya’s face, he said to her, “I’d start looking for new friends if I were you.” And he ran after Lila, leaving Alya horrified at what just happened

‘How could she do that?’ She thought to herself, ‘She used me as a human shield, I-I could have died. Why would she do this?... I thought we were friends.’

Rousing her from her thoughts was the sound of a notification from her phone. She wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks and checked her phone. She furrowed her brow as she read what was on her screen. Aurore had made a post on her blog, Bug & Cat Chat. She wasn’t a fan of the blonde girl having a blog that rivaled her own and stole most of her viewers, but she kept tabs to see what she posted and how she could make the Ladyblog better. ‘Ladybug’s Supposed Bestie Roots for Akuma?’

Lila ran as fast as she could down the streets of Paris, but Reverstrator was faster. She dodged every paper plane, every sword, dagger, and flaming arrow, shoving pedestrians out of her way and almost getting them hit in the process. When the attacks stopped, Lila stopped running and took a few breaths.

“Damn it, Hawkmoth,” she cursed under her breath, “Control your freaks.” This moment of peace was cut short by a scream. Lila looked back and saw a car being tossed into the air and heading right for her. She leaped out of the way as the car hit the ground

“Lie-La~” Reverstrator called out, “It would be easier for everyone here if you just gave yourself up!” He started lifting another car

Lila rubbed her eyes to make it look like she’s crying, “I didn’t do anything! Why are you after me?!” She looked through her hands and saw people in the vicinity giving her wary looks, ‘Why are none of these idiots helping me?! Can’t they see I’m in danger?!’

“Mommy! That’s the girl who put the Ladyblogger in danger!” A little boy shouted

Lila looked again and saw many of the citizens scowling at or backing away from her. Some were even looking down at their phones. When she listened closely, she could clearly make out Alya’s panicked voice coming from their phones

‘Who the hell recorded that?!’

“Aurore got a video of her rooting for the Akuma!”

“She wanted Ladybug dead!”

“I bet she’s working for Hawkmoth!”

Lila scowled, ‘That blonde b*mbo!’ She put her hands behind her back and pinched her wrists to make herself cry, “I-I’d never do that! I’d never put Ladybug in danger!” Another car was thrown her way, she ran with Reverser hot on her tail

“IT’S NO USE RUNNING, LILA! JUST GIVE YOURSELF UP! EVERYONE ALREADY KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE REALLY LIKE!”

Lila was about the round a corner, but Reverstrator grabbed her by the back of her jacket and held her up in the air, “It’s over! Now confess everything you’ve lied about!”

Even when her life was on the line, Lila would not own up to her lies, “I didn’t do anything wrong! I don’t know why you’re after me, but-”

“ENOUGH!” Evillustrator summoned a paper airplane, “You are now forced to tell the truth! Reversion- HEY!” He tried to yank his arm away as Ladybug’s yoyo wrapped around his wrist

“Reverstrator, stop!” Ladybug called out as she and Chat Noir arrived, “Everyone already knows that Lila is dangerous-”

“SHUT UP LADYBUG! NO ONE ASKED YOU SHIT!”, Lila screeched, making everyone gasp. Lila was about to say more, but one of Reverstrator’s other hands wrapped around her neck and she started choking, but then he dropped her to the ground when Ladybug yanked on her yoyo and flung him into the side of a building

Chat narrowed his eyes at Lila who had taken off running a while ago, “Better hurry before she causes more trouble.”

Ladybug nodded then called for her, “LUCKY CHARM!” What dropped in her hands was, “Another yoyo?”

Chat Noir extended his staff, “Better figure out how to use it quick; Reverstrator won’t go down so easy!”

Reverstrator started drawing again, and another buzz saw came spinning for them. Chat Noir jumped in front of Ladybug and yelled out, “CATACLYSM!” The buzz saw crumbled into black dust, and immediately, the heroes were barraged by arrows. And with his free hands, he threw paper airplanes at them. They take cover behind a flipped car. Not wanting to risk getting shot by an arrow or reversed, Ladybug used the mirror in her yoyo to find a way to use her lucky charm

Use your yoyo to deflect his attacks

Wrap both yoyo’s around Reverstrator’s arms

He has super strength, so you won’t be able to hold him down on your own

Tie the ends of the yoyos to the lamp posts; they’re bolted tight to the ground

Break the necklace, catch the Akuma

Ladybug turned to Chat Noir with a determined look, “Hey, Kitty? Ever use a yoyo before?” With a grin, Chat takes the lucky charm yoyo and extends his staff. Ladybug spins her yoyo; the two run out from behind the car and start deflecting Reverstrator’s planes and arrows. Once they got close enough, Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around Reverstrator’s left arms, and Chat wrapped the Lucky Charm yoyo around the right arms. They ran in opposite directions and tied the yoyos around lamp posts so he can’t get free.

“NO!” He growled with tears in his eyes, “You won’t separate us!”

Ladybug walked over, reached into the monochrome hoodie, and pulled out a black heart-shaped necklace. She threw it to the ground, making it shatter into many pieces so the Akuma would fly out. She quickly unwrapped her yoyo, “No more evil-doing for you little Akuma... Time to De-Evilize!” She caught the Akuma, “Gotcha!” Fluttering out from the yoyo was a pure white butterfly, “Bye-bye, little butterfly.”

Chat Noir tossed her the lucky charm yoyo. She tossed it into the air and yelled out, “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!” The yoyo burst into millions of ladybugs. The swept around the city, fixing the school, getting rid of the weapons drawn by Reverstrator, removing the reversion curse of citizens who were hit by the paper airplanes, and finally, Reverstrator was washed over by a black and purple mist that lifted up and revealed Marc and Nathaniel passed out on the ground

Ladybug and Chat Noir did their signature fist-bump, “Pound it!”

“Ugh,” Nathaniel got up and rubbed his head, “What the hell...?” His eyes widened when he saw Marc on the ground, “Rainbow!” He rushed over to his boyfriend’s side, “Baby, are you okay?” Marc’s eyes fluttered open, and Nathaniel let out a relieved sigh, “Marc, I’m so sorry I thought you cheated on me, I- You’d never do that! I just-” “Nath...” “When I saw that photo, I just panicked!” “Nath!” Nathaniel was cut off by Marc throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “... I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions either. Nath, I’m sorry.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir offered their hands and helped the two boys up, “I’m guessing you guys remember what happened.”

Nathaniel furrowed his brow, “I-I just remember seeing that photo of Marc kissing Adrien...” No one noticed the look of shock on Chat’s face, “Then I remember Alix mentioning...” His expression darkened, “...Lila.” Marc held his hand and kissed his cheek, “She’s sort of had out for us ever since we pointed out a few holes in her lies.”

“Well, don’t worry. I’m sure you won’t be seeing much of her anymore.” At the superheroine’s words, the two boys smiled. Suddenly, the distinct beeping of Ladybug and Chat’s miraculous’ were heard

“Well, we best be off,” Chat said as he extended his staff and vaulted away

Ladybug gave the two one last smile, “Bug out.” and she swung away

Hawkmoth threw his can to the ground, “NO! How could they have beaten Reverstrator? He should have unstoppable! Ladybug, I swear, I will have your Miraculous!”

Lila felt all eyes on her as she walked into Dupont. Normally she would preen at the attention she was receiving, but these looks were hate-filled. They all looked like they wanted her dead. Ignoring the glares, she put on a prideful demeanor as she strutted her way to class...

...Where she was met with even more death glares.

Alix stood from her seat, “You’ve got some fucking nerve coming back here, Rossi.”

She reared back, “Oh, Alix!” tears began to pour, “How could you say something like that?!”, she started sobbing into her hands but no one was buying her fake tears

Nino wrapped his arms protectively around Alya and glared at the Italian, “Just get lost, Lila. Everyone in Paris saw the shit you pulled.”

“I-I don’t know what-”

“YOU PUSHED ALYA IN FRONT OF A BUZZ SAW, YOU BITCH!” Marinette screamed as she stormed over towards the Italian, “You could have killed her!”

Lila backed away from the enraged pigtailed girl, “I-I was trying to push her out of the way, but my carpel tunnel acted up, and-”

“Cut the crap, Rossi!” Nathaniel yelled, “Marc and I almost killed Alya because of you!”

“It wasn’t my fault you two got akumatized!”

“IT WAS!” The entire room went silent when the redhead slammed his fist on the desk, “You photoshopped pictures of us cheating on each other, and that’s what got us akumatized!”

Lila forced tears out of her eyes, “I’d never do something like that!” she whined

Juleka spoke up, “We found your nail polish on one of the photos,” She held up the photo and pointed to the orange nail polish. Before Lila could retort, Marinette held up one of her hands, her nails were still painted the same shade of orange as the nail polish on the photo

“Th-that was just a coincidence! It’s a very popular color!”

Chloe laughed, “Newsflash, Rossi. Raw sienna looks good on no one. Especially not you.”

Adrien stood from his seat, “And I’m sure you can explain why there’s a video of you cheering for the Akuma,” he sent Nathaniel an apologetic look, “then saying Akuma’s can’t do anything right.”

The Italian went silent before, “Ow! My head hurts! See, while I was in Africa, I hit my head and-”

“That explains a lot,” Ivan muttered

“B-but guys, I’d never...” Seeing that no one was buying a single thing she said, she scowled, “Alright, fine! So I pushed her in front of me, so what?! Better her than me!” Marinette and Nino looked ready to strangle her. She points to Nathaniel, “And you and your f*ggot boyfriend should learn your place you k**e!”

The entire room gasped at the slur used against their friend

“Lila Rossi!” Everyone turned to see Mme. Bustier standing at the doorway, “Principal’s office, now!”

“B-but Mme. Bustier!” Lila stammered

“NOW!” She repeated, “I will not have that type of language used in my classroom!”

“But Nathaniel cursed me out yesterday!”

Mme. Bustier nodded, “Yes, but no one could understand him.” She shot the redhead an apologetic smile and he smiled back, “You on the other hand, we understood you loud and clear. I will not tolerate the use of derogatory terms in this class! Now go!” She points to the door. Defeated, Lila trudges out but not before she adds, “And I’ll be giving your mother a call as well.”

Mme. Bustier followed her out and slammed the door behind her, leaving the classroom in silence

“... Okay!” Kim yelled out, “No one’s saying it, so I will.” He approaches Marinette, “Mari, I-I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you. You’re one of the most honest people I know, and I just picked that... Cáo nói dối over my own sister.”

Marinette smiled and embraced Kim, “Thanks, Kimmy.” The athlete wrapped his arms around her, “Anytime, em gái.” The whole room started apologizing to the students who didn’t believe Lila’s stories and gathered for a group hug

Marinette hummed, “Guys, this is nice... But if you ever do this again, I will not hesitate to knock some sense into each and every one of you. And believe me. I will be very violent.”

Mylene chuckled nervously, “Noted.”

“Hey, Rainbow.” Marc looked up from his journal and saw Nathaniel standing by the stairs, “Hey.” Nathaniel went under the stairs and sat next to Marc before littering his face with kisses, making the black-haired boy blush

“What’s got you so happy?”

Nathaniel smirked, “Two things. First: Lila’s being arrested for possibly working with Hawkmoth,” off Marc’s incredulous look, he nodded, “Seriously! After that video Aurore posted, the police took her in for questioning.”

Marc tackled Nathaniel into a hug, “That’s amazing! So, what’s the second thing?” He gives Nathaniel a knowing look

“Well,” he takes Marc’s hand and kisses it, “Ever since we were fused together, I just... I’ve never felt closer to you. Even though we were Akumatized, it just felt amazing.”

Marc can’t help but blush, “Yeah. I-I know we were arguing most of the time, but I still loved being that close to you.” His smile dropped a little, “I could feel how upset you were. That also showed how much you really care about me.”

“Of course I do, Rainbow,” Nathaniel said as he caressed his cheek, “You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I was prepared to murder Adrien because of that photo.”

“And I was going to throttle Alix...”

“... Not our best moment.” “No, not really.”

“But,” Nathaniel pulls his sketchbook out from his messenger bag, “It does give me a few ideas for our next comic.”

Marc shows Nathaniel the page he was working on, “Me too.”

#marc x nathaniel #miraculous ladybug salt #Miraculous Ladybug #Reverstrator #Reverser #Evillustrator #alya redemption #lila gets exposed #ao3fic

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jedimasterkelly · 3 years

Text

Shrill is Real Life

I can’t believe this is it for Shrill, the most relevant show on TV right now. That show was a look into my 20s+30s. Being a fat woman, I fell into every trap Annie did. Being Pan-ACE, I tried to be sexually normal (het). Every man I was with, liked, or cared about did a great job of trying to destroy me.

Let me compare myself with Annie over the last 3 seasons of Shrill.

* Unreciprocated love/crushes? check

* Men ashamed to be seen with me? check

* Men throwing obvious vibes, and then friend-zoning me the second I consent to something more? check

* Men using me for sex? check

* Being overlooked by literally everyone because of my weight? check

* Being body shamed by doctors? check

* Poster girl for fat women everywhere? check

* Gaslighted by just damn near everyone? check

I had more “omg yes” moments during this series than I would like. I had a few empowering moments, especially when Annie got sick of everyone and started yelling, “Fuck you!!” I did that a few times, lost friends and lost jobs as a result. I guess there’s a time and place, but when you’re fat, and it’s constantly held against you, sometimes, a generously loud “OMG FUCK YOU” just slips right out.

I got so sick of it. I am still so fucking sick of it.

Spoilers ahead:

Let’s break down some of Annie’s relationships:

Ryan: Wow, what a mess. This unwashed, unkempt man-baby was ashamed of Annie because she was fat. He liked her enough to put his dirty unwashed penis in her body, but was so ashamed of her weight, he made her climb a fence so his friends (just as equally gross and unwashed) wouldn’t see he was banging a fat chick. And the fact Annie kept going back pissed me off. Not at her, she felt she couldn’t do any better. That screams in my head, and it pisses me off so fucking bad.

***FAT WOMEN CAN’T DO ANY BETTER THAN A BEER BELLIED UNWASHED UNKEMPT NEANDERTHAL MAN-BABY***

Not only was he ashamed of her (in the beginning at least), he manipulated her, used her, humiliated her, and pretty much forced her to carry the burden of the entire relationship on her shoulders. The whole camping thing was literally the first time Ryan stepped up, and the last time too. He was so embarrassing. Yet Annie stuck it out because she felt she couldn’t do any better. That’s where she and I differ. I never hooked up with men like Ryan. While I tried to be normal sexually, I didn’t attach myself to beer-bellied leeches in a bad need of a haircut.

Nick: OMG FUCK YOU NICK!! How many of us fat women could relate to THAT fiasco? Nick totally gave off vibes. The way he looked at her. The way he texted her. The way he asked her out all the time. And then he was like, “I don’t like you like that” when she made a move. I was so fucking mad. I was so fucking triggered. I almost threw my Apple remote at the TV, but I didn’t want to have to get off the couch and pick it back up. Fuck that. And fuck Nick. For real.

Will: If anyone swoons over how sweet Will is, I will vomit for reals. Yes, he’s sweet, but gdi he wouldn’t have sex with her forever because he was afraid it’d hurt his ex-wife? Fuck her! And fuck you too, Will. At first I thought Annie was dumb for going to the bakery, but now I see why she did it. This woman, whom her boyfriend hadn’t spoken to in 4 months, was the reason Will wasn’t getting closer to Annie. He was afraid of hurting someone he was no longer obligated to. Of course Annie had to see this woman, see what she was about, and why she had so much power over Will. When Will got pissed at her, I was thinking he could take a long walk off a short pier, and take those fucked up cut off shorts with him. Fuck you, Will. Annie deserves better.

Gynecologist: WOW what a bitch! I fired a gyno after a decade because I have PCOS and thyroid disease. He kept throwing birth control pills at it, probably making it worse, who knows? All I know is I am huge fucking huge now, and I battle my bulge constantly. I am constantly on a diet, or researching what I can and cannot eat with my hormones so god awful fucked up. And I’ll be 50 next month and facing menopause and I just can’t fucking deal with it anymore. But he aggressively started to body shame me about 7yrs into my seeing him, because I was yo-yoing between 360 and 380. Not only did he want me to have surgery, he wanted me to go on The Biggest Loser. That was it for me. I stopped seeing him after that. Got a different gyno, who fucked me over with a cancer scare because of my weight. That’s a long story I may or may not share later. Have someone totally new. I told him no more progesterone. I’m sick. I’m done with fake hormones and birth control. He supports me. He tried to slip in a progestin Rx. Seriously? I’m not stupid. OK fine, go get a mammogram, he says. Fine, I’ll make an appt on Monday. He cares enough to have called me 2 times since my first visit 2 months ago. I have a pap and stuff in July. We’ll see how it goes. The oncologist I saw because of other gyno’s fatphobia got me in with a very much in-demand Endocrinologist. I see her next Thursday. Cross fingers she can help me.

On a happy note, can we talk about how fucking hot Emily is??? WOW! That smile!!! Emily, I’m available if Fran keeps fucking that up, because gotdamn...that smile slays me. Emily can slide into my DMs. The men listed above can fuck right off.

#shrill #fat #fatwomen #shrillonhulu #hulu #fuckyou

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imbuckysplum · 4 years

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Oh wow so I for some reason made the choice to write again. I actually kinda like this story. Its 1.8k words :)

Cookies and Leather Jackets

“Can you pass me the eggs, Steve?” Never in a million years did you think that you would be baking cookies for your little sister’s school bake sale with Steve Rogers. Then again never in a million year did you think your parents would die, leaving a sixteen year old you with a five month old Ellie. That was a while ago though, 2012. That’s how you became an Avenger. You were using your teleportation to get kids out of your school when Tony saw you. Your parents also had powers, but they never told where they came from, only that they were genetic. You wondered a lot what would have happened if your parents didn’t die. So many possibilities.

“I got it Y/N!” Ellie reached over the table and grabbed an egg. She was very excited to be helping. Handing you the egg, she gave you a huge smile. You smiled back. “Y/N, this batch is ready for the oven.” Steve handed you the tray. Your eyes locked, the whole universe seemed to stop. It was no secret that you liked him, a lot. Wanda told you he liked you to, she read his thoughts around you. Neither of you were bold enough to make a move. It drove everyone crazy. You snapped out of your trance when Ellie let out a loud ooooooooo. She wanted you guys to get together so bad. She would ask you constantly about your relationship with him. Steve blushed and ran his hand through his hair. You hated he did that, it always made you blush even harder.

“Ready for school, little monster?” Natasha walked into the kitchen, Ellie’s bag in hand. That was one of the many amazing things about living in the tower, the team was always ready to help you out with Ellie. You grabbed her lunchbox from the fridge. “Remember El, I’ll be there at 3:00 for the bake sale, wait for me by the door.” You handed her the lunchbox and placed a kiss on her cheek. “With Steve?” She looked over at Steve who was putting cookies on the pan. “Honey, you kno-” Steve cut you off. “I’ll be there kiddo.” She giggled, before running over to Natasha. They walked out of the kitchen, Natasha winking at you.

You knew exactly what that wink meant. It was her ‘you’re alone with Steve, make your move for fucks sake’ wink. Taking a deep breath in you started, “Steve you don’t have to come, it’s really fine. You’re already helping me out with all of this, which is way more than you need to. You’re probably very busy, I’ll just tell Ellie you’re sorry you couldn’t come, something came up.” Steve just blinked at you before bursting out laughing. “Y/N I want to come. I love Ellie. Plus you’re gonna need help with all these cookies.” You just smiled, you knew there was no arguing. Just one reason why you loved Steve. He was always ready to help out, even when he didn’t need to.

Then an idea struck you. You took some cookie batter in your hand. “Hey Rogers, you have something right here.” You swiped your hand across his cheek, leaving behind a long stripe of batter. “Y/N, I just showered. Come on really!” At first you really thought that you did something wrong until a huge ball of batter landed on your face. When you managed to wipe your eyes off, Steve was standing there with a goofy smile on his face. “Oh you’re so done.” You smirked at him before taking a handful of dough and shoving on his forehead. You were aiming for his hair, but he was too tall for you to reach.

Before Steve could get you again, you grabbed a bowl and ran ducking behind the counter. “Hey Y/N I think the cookies are burning.” You shot up from your hiding place, only then realizing how dumb that was. Batter slapped you in the arm. “So you wanna play dirty Stevie?” He blushed hard, you smirked.

If Wanda was right your plan would work. The timer went off signaling that the cookies were done. Perfect. Grabbing the oven mitts you walked over purposely swaying your hips with every step. Bending over dramatically you pulled the cookies from the oven. You could feel Steve’s eyes stalking you. “See something interesting Rogers?” You asked with fake curiosity. His face was beet red, the blush extending all the way down his neck. He didn’t answer, so you walked closer.

You don’t really know where this side of you came from, but Natasha would be proud. “Nothing.” He mumbled. Stepping forward again, this time close enough to put your hands on his chest. “What was that, I didn’t hear you.” You looked up at him with a sweet smile. “I said it’s n-” Before he could finish you took the biggest ball of batter you could get and smushed it into his face. Steve was very taken aback by this but only for a second, before he wiped it off and grabbed your waist. You squeaked, unprepared. He pulled you in, your hands on his chest. Now that was a feeling, his muscles flexing as he breathed in and out.

You looked up at Steve, his baby blues staring back. “Screw it.” His mouth crashed into yours. The kiss tasted of cookie batter. You moved your hands from his chest to his neck, pulling him in closer. Your mind finally caught up with your body. You were screaming inside like a teenage girl would scream about One Direction. This just couldn’t be real. Steve picked you up, and placed you on the counter, you wrapped your legs around his muscular waist, confirming that this was in fact not a dream. Steve broke away from your lips, both of you panting. “Y/N I-” “I love you too Steve.”

Going back in for another kiss you stopped. “Fucking finally!” You turned your head to see Natasha. She looked relieved, like someone had taken a fifty pound weight off her back. You let go of Steve, blushing. “I’ll finish the cookies, you two need a shower, together.” She said the last part quietly, so only you could hear. “Nat!” You gave her a look, hopping off the counter. She just gave you a smirk. “Go!” She ushered you two out of the room. “Um, so dinner this Friday?” Steve asked when you guys got into the elevator. “Dinner sounds really nice.” You gave him a light peck before stepping off the elevator onto your floor.

When you got to your room things finally hit you. You just made out with Steve, and you told him you loved him. Now he wants dinner on Friday. Is this what heaven feels like? You wondered in the shower. You laid around in your towel for a while after your shower. Replaying the moments over and over again. It never seemed to feel real.

A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. “Y/N, you almost ready to go?” It was Steve. You grabbed your phone, it was 2:45. Already?! “Coming.” You called to him, throwing on your clothes. When you opened the door, Steve was standing there with the cookies. “Wow you look amazing. I’m so glad I can finally say that out loud.” You blushed. “Stop.” You hit him playfully. “Honesty is the best policy Y/N.” Steve stated. When you got to the garage, Steve tossed you a helmet. It took you a second to put two and two together, you were taking his motorcycle.

“Oh, you should wear this.” Steve took off his leather jacket and handed it to you. This made you super giddy, you’ve always loved his leather jacket. Once you slipped it on, you felt safe. It smelled like him, it was warm, and big, it was love. You took the cookies from him after you got the helmet on. You put the cookie container in between your legs, holding onto it with your thighs. Your arms wrapped around Steve’s waist. You could feel him stiffen when you made contact with him, before relaxing again. His muscles were just insane. You had a hard time keeping your hands still, they itched to feel his body.

It was a pretty short ride to Ellie’s school. Sometimes you really just wanted to teleport places, but you didn’t want to be lazy. Plus it makes a bit of a scene. Steve parked, and you tried to take your helmet off, but it got stuck. You heard laughing. “Just help me please.” You grumbled. Steve had no issues getting your helmet off. “My hero!” You dramatically fluttered your eyelashes. Steve gave your forehead a kiss, before helping you off the bike. Ellie was waiting by the door, just like you told her to. “Hey El! Go give these to your teacher for me ok.” You bent down and handed her the cookies.

She nodded before running over to a woman. She thanked Ellie and placed them on the table. She ran back over to you. “Ready to go?” You asked, taking her backpack. “Wait a minute.” She said squinting at you. You looked at Steve, he just shrugged. All of the sudden she let out a squeal. “That’s Steve’s jacket! I know because he’s let me wear it! You’re dating Steve! I knew it!” She ran up to Steve and hugged as high up as she could, which was only his legs. “You’re going to be a good husband for Y/N.” Steve was caught way off guard by that. You just laughed a little. “She’s just excited.” You told him.

As you guys walked back to the motorcycle, Ellie asked endless questions. She didn’t even wait for you to finish answering them half the time. Steve gave Ellie his helmet. It was super big for her and wobbled around whenever she moved her head. She liked it, she said she was like a bobble head.

Once you guys got back, you handed Ellie her bag, she ran inside. Bruce always helped her with her homework. You just didn’t have the patience for it. “You know she never took the helmet off.” Steve laughed. “I’ll get it back.” You smiled at him.

The two of you headed inside the compound. Steve stopped you in the living room. “Y/N I love you. You are like nobody I’ve ever met. I promise you I’ll always be there for you and Ellie.” You squeezed his hand. To most people that might just sound sappy, but it really meant a lot. You’ve lost so much, to know that someone is always going to be there is nice, but to have them say it makes it real. “I love you too soldier.”

#avengers #marvel #captain america #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #captain america x you #captain america imagine #cuties #i love him #cookie fights its a thing

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tigerkirby215 · 3 years

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5e Poppy, the Keeper of the Hammer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Joshua “HUGEnFAST” Brian Smith and Jason Chan. Made for Riot Games.)

Uh so basically I played Poppy for the first time like last month. And I really enjoyed her. So here’s a Poppy build I’m writing a month in advance. I know Doran’s & Dragons have done a Poppy build but again our views differ slightly and while I think their build is good (and I got some inspiration from it) I’d like to put my own spin on the build too!

By the way check out their Kayn build! To this day my Kayn build is still one of my favorite builds (I just really like Horizon Walker ngl lol) and their build takes it in a similar yet unique direction.

GOALS

Shieldy~ - Poppy may just be a yordle with a hammer but she’s also got a shield to chuck at people.

You; sit - We’ll need stuns and slows to hold the line against legions of foes.

No getting through me - We’ll need to be able to hold the line and annoy any and every champion with a dash.

RACE

Poppy is a yordle which means holy shit I get to use something other than Variant Human. We’ll be going with a Stout Halfling for Poppy to give her some sturdiness as well as some yordle magic. You’d normally get a +2 to Dexterity but thanks to Tasha’s we can put that +2 into Strength instead. You also get +1 to Constitution thanks to your subrace, as well as Stout Resilience for advantage against poisons and resistance to poison damage.

As a Halfling you are Brave for advantage against being frightened, and have Halfling Nimbleness to move through the spaces of creatures that are one size larger than you (which considering that you’re Small is most creatures.) But of course the main appeal of Halflings is their Lucky trait, letting you reroll Natural 1s as the light of both Demacia and Bandle City guides you.

ABILITY SCORES

15; STRENGTH - You swing a hammer that’s about the same size as your body which the strongest men (and women) in Demacia can’t lift.

14; CHARISMA - Poppy is a cute little bean. So cute in fact that not even Vayne will shoot her; and Vayne shoots everyone! (Daily reminder that Vayne sucks and Vayne mains suck #FuckVayne)

13; CONSTITUTION - Poppy is a tank and along with the +1 from our race this will give us a nice health buffer.

12; DEXTERITY - Poppy isn’t the most mobile in-game but she still needs to be able to quickly bodycheck people into walls.

10; WISDOM - Poppy is a little daft and far too humble for her own good, still searching for the legendary hero to wield the mighty hammer.

8; INTELLIGENCE - The hammer which she still doesn’t realize can only be swung by the legendary hero, despite the fact that she swings the hammer around constantly.

BACKGROUND

Officially Poppy wanders around Demacia searching for the one true hero. But unofficially she was trained by captain Orlon as a Demacian Soldier. Thing is neither of the skills really fit Poppy (well Intimidation doesn’t, and we’ll be getting Athletics from other sources) so take Persuasion and Survival to get folk to try out your hammer, or to survive long nights alone on the roads of Demacia. You can keep the Land Vehicles and Gaming Set proficiencies though! (Though Smith’s Tools might also fit if you want to be Blacksmith Poppy.)

Of course your Military Rank will still help. Demacian soldiers recognize your heroic deeds (c’mon guys really it was nothing) and are willing to lend you some military supplies if needed, or let you wander around their camps looking for someone who can pick up your hammer.

(Artwork by Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - FIGHTER 1

Starting off as a Fighter to be a simple, practical yordle. Fighters get two skills from the Fighter list: take Insight and Perception to search far and wide for that legendary hero.

You get a Fighting Style at level 1, and I am actually going to suggest Superior Technique from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. This will give you a d6 Combat Superiority die to use on a single chosen maneuver from the Battlemaster subclass. Anyways take Quick Toss to chuck your Iron Ambassador as a Bonus Action.

My recommendation for Poppy’s “shield” would be to ask your DM if you can get a Javelin that does bludgeoning damage, since the Javelin can be thrown slightly further than the other weapons. If they say no a Light Hammer works fine for bludgeoning damage, though you’re going to have to deal with the fact that Light Hammers cost 2 gold for some godawful reason. Or you could just accept that Javelins are going to do piercing damage because damage types really don’t matter much in 5e.

Also as far as your choice of weapons Poppy technically wields her hammer in both hands but as a Halfling you can’t use Heavy weapons effectively. (I’d consider Orion’s Hammer more of a Maul than anything.) Since you’re forced to use regular weapons anyways you may as well wield a Warhammer in one hand for a d8 of damage and a shield in the other for +2 AC. If you really want to bring the hurt feel free to actually chuck your shield at the enemy and then swing that Versatile weapon with a d10 hit die instead!

And finally for some lane sustain Second Wind will let you sip from your refillable potion to heal for a d10 plus your Fighter level.

LEVEL 2 - FIGHTER 2

Second level Fighters get Action Surge, letting them give 110% so you can make sure to get Orion’s hammer into the right hands. Basically you can take another action and bonk your foes twice!

LEVEL 3 - FIGHTER 3

3rd level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype and if you want to smack people into walls then Battlemaster is for you! (Which yeah: that’s why we took Superior Technique for more maneuver die!) Anyways Battlemasters are Students of War and while I’d love to honor the legendary hero Tulok the Barbrarian by talking Calligrapher’s Tools Poppy does have her Blacksmith skin so Smith’s Tools make more sense. If you didn’t get them from your background anyways.

But of course the main feature of the Battlemaster is their Combat Superiority: you have four five (yay Fighting Style!) Combat Superiority die to use on a variety of Maneuvers. You have Quick Toss still of course but you now get three more options. For stuns and slows of any sort Trip Attack will let you knock people over. If you want to knock people into walls first (or more realistically off a cliff) then Pushing Attack will let you bodycheck them with your small yordle body to send them a full 15 feet back! And if you want to set up for your teammates to be heroes then Distracting Strike will keep eyes locked on you so your allies can hit the enemy with advantage.

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 4

4th level Fighters get an Ability Score Improvement. We’re going to fix our Strength as well as a lot of other things thanks to the Squat Nimbleness feat. Along with the +1 to Strength your walking speed increases by 5 feet (Poppy may be immobile but that’s no reason not to move 30 feet), you get proficiency in Athletics (see told you we would!) and you have advantage to escape grapples.

LEVEL 5 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get an Extra Attack, so you can hit them with both the left and right side of the hammer! And if they’re still up? Action Surge to hit them two more times! "Well, that wasn't the hero."

LEVEL 6 - FIGHTER 6

Ability Score increases are nice. Feats are nicer; take the Sentinel feat to stop foes from running away with your Steadfast Presence. Put simply: enemies can’t dash move away (even if they Disengage) as your opportunity attack will reduce their movement to 0. And if they hit one of your friends you can whack them right back!

(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 1

Hope you didn’t think the character that can swing a magic hammer so hard you’re sent to the opposite side of the map wouldn’t have magic! First level Paladins get Divine Sense to help search for legendary Celestial heroes or evil Fiends and Undead, who are probably being fought by heroes! You also get Lay on Hands for some refill pot healing that you can share with your friends.

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 2

Second level Paladins get to choose their Fighting Style. To armor up we’ll be going for good ol’ Defense for +1 to AC.

Why nothing for our weapon? - Depending on your choice of Poppy you’re either going to be running your hammer two-handed or swing it with one hand. In either case either the Great Weapon Fighting or Dueling fighting style would help. But since I designed this build with the intent of you swapping between stances and the fact that Great Weapon Fighting kinda sucks as a fighting style I didn’t want to take a Fighting Style that would restrict how you use your hammer. Put simply Superior Technique does far more for us as a Fighter, and Defense is universally useful while the other Fighting Styles are somewhat situational.

With explanations out of the way you also get Spellcasting. You can prepare a number of spells equal to half your Paladin level (rounded down; IE you can prepare a new spell every 2 levels) plus your Charisma modifier.

Compelled Duel will be another way to keep enemies in your Steadfast Presence.

Shield of Faith will serve as, well, your shield. Pop it on top of a shield to really stack up that AC!

Thunderous Smite will serve as another way to bring the hammer down on your foes, knocking them back and knocking them prone.

Of course you could just ignore all that in favor of Divine Smite, letting you bring down the hammer to do 2d8 Radiant damage, plus an additional 1d8 Radiant per spell slot above 1st level. If the enemy is an Undead or Fiend, the might of Demacia will let you do an additional d8 of damage!

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 3

Third level Paladins get to choose their Sacred Oath: to be the tank that your team needs go for the Oath of Redemption as you seek to redeem yourself to your friend’s last wishes. Redemption Paladins get the Sanctuary spell to keep an ally safe from being dove onto, and Sleep. "I could really go for a nap."

The main feature of a Paladin Oath is their Channel Divinity of which you have two: your first one Emissary of Peace will let you put on your kindest smile for +5 to Persuasion checks for 10 minutes. Alternatively if a friend is hit you can hit that foe right back with Rebuke the Violent! You use your reaction to force a Wisdom save on the enemy who hit your ally or smack them with Radiant damage equal to the damage they dealt! And if they succeed? Well they still take half damage! This ability has no damage cap so you can smite a dragon with your hammer after it breathes fire on your allies! Just remember that this doesn’t work on yourself, so be sure to put others ahead of yourself... but maybe still stand in the frontline...

You also get Divine Health, because no legendary hero is going to want to talk to you if you have the sniffles!

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 4

4th level Paladins get an Ability Score Improvement that we’re going to ignore in favor of yet another Feat! The Charger feet will let you Dash and knock someone into a wall, doing extra damage with your hammer and knocking an enemy back.

You can also prepare another spell but we’re going to wait for...

(Artwork by Shuohan Zhou. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 5

5th level Paladins get an Extra Attack... which you already have. Well you’re no legendary four-attacks-per-turn hero after all; just a yordle with a hammer.

You do get second level smites spells though! Redemption Paladins get Calm Emotions to... calm emotions, and Hold Person to keep an enemy stunned for your allies to fight! You can also prepare the good ol’ Aid spell to make both you and your allies tankier, as your Steadfast Presence bolsters everyone in the party.

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 6

6th level Paladins are Stubborn to a Fault, getting Aura of Protection for some passive magic resistance. You and allies within 10 feet of you get to boost their saving throws by an amount equal to your Charisma modifier. Unfortunately that Charisma modifier is only a +2 at the moment but it still helps!

You can also prepare another spell at this level: Warding Bond was added to the Paladin spell list thanks to Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, and it will let you make a Knight’s Vow to keep your allies safe.

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 7

7th level Redemption Paladins get Aura of the Guardian. If an ally within 10 feet takes damage you can use your reaction to take the damage for them instead. You don’t take any of the additional effects and this damage can’t be reduced in any ways. Honestly if locked in a melee it might be a better idea to just use Sentinel instead, but if an ally gets shot by an arrow you can stand in front of them to take the shot for them... You might have to jump a bit if they’re tall though.

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 8

Hey look at that an Ability Score Improvement! We’re not going to be taking feats and will actually just increase our Strength by 2 to finally swing that hammer full-force!

You can also prepare your final spell at this level at least until you get more Charisma, so grab Lesser Restoration to Cleanse in a pinch. Is Lesser Restoration a little underwhelming by total level 14? No! Because paralysis will always be a danger. "Not like this!"

(Artwork by Rudy Siswanto. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - FIGHTER 7

Back over to good ol’ Fighterland. 7th level Battlemasters can tell if someone’s hero material thanks to Know Your Enemy. If you spend a minute studying someone you can learn a variety of features about them, such as if they can lift your hammer. (Spoiler: they can’t.)

7th level of Fighter also means some more Maneuvers and this time we’ll be going into Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything for some of the new maneuvers from that book. Brace will let you opportunity attack when an enemy comes up to you, basically. (Might be good to hold onto your reaction for Sentinel or other things however.) And while it might be a bit late to try for grapples Grappling Strike will let you use your Athletics proficiency and high Strength score to grab some people! Even if your ability to grab people is limited because of your size who knows? Your DM might let you ride on them if they try to run away from you! I’d allow it to make grappling more viable for small creatures.

LEVEL 16 - FIGHTER 8

8th level Fighters get more Ability Score Improvements and with our Strength maxed out let’s finally put some points in Charisma. This will give you more Paladin spells don’t forget, so go back to your Paladin spell list and prepare a new one!

LEVEL 17 - FIGHTER 9

Level 9 Fighters are also Stubborn to a Fault, with Indomitable letting them reroll a failed saving throw once per Long Rest. With Aura of Protection you’ve honestly got a good chance on just about any save with perhaps the exception of Intelligence.

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 10

10th level Battlemasters see their Improved Combat Superiority die increase to a d10 for more some more damage as you swing that hammer around!

You also get more Maneuvers whenever you get new Battlemaster features: to keep enemies focusing the tank instead of your allies grab Goading Attack, because Menacing Attack doesn’t fit Poppy. If you’re swinging at an enemy with high AC however Precision Strike will make sure the hammer ends up somewhere squishy.

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 11

11th level Fighters truly learn how to swing their hammer with a third Extra Attack, or six if you Action Surge! "The hammer does most of the work, I just swing it."

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 12

12th level Fighters get our final Ability Score Improvement, and I’ll leave it up to you: more Charisma means stronger Paladin features, but the Tough feat will give you a 40 HP boost at the end of the build.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Careful, this packs a wallop - Smites and Maneuvers on three hammer swings means that you can really bring the smack.

If you're waiting for me to give up, you might be here awhile - Wow who would’ve guessed the character build to be tanky would be tanky? High AC (21 with basic Plate and a Shield, 23 with Shield of Faith) and good health, even without too heavy of an investment in Constitution.

Who knew there were so many heroes? - You’re also a very good team player, holding the line and sacrificing yourself for your allies.

CONS

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, uh... hammer! - Dump stats are never fun. Low INT hurts even with Aura of Protection.

That's okay; I'm playing the long game - Feats are fun and all but so are good stats. I’m just saying Charger is a nice feat but so is a good Aura of Protection.

I sure do a lot of walking - All your abilities run on limited resources, and while thankfully the vast majority of them come back on a Short Rest your limited spell slots only come back after a proper sleep. You’ve gotta spend your mana effectively so you don’t caught without a hammer.

But for a simple gall with a not-so-simple hammer you can do everything you need to find that hero. Keep it polished and make sure nothing gets dented until you find the light that Demacia needs to wield your friend’s final gift! Just make sure you avoid any fields with lollipops; they have eyes I tell you...

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Poppy #hammer #dnd fighter #dnd paladin

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sailorbellewrites · 4 years

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No Limit

characters— seokjin x reader (ft. members of bts)

summary— you and jungkook don’t even look alike. how was seokjin supposed to know you were off limits?

information— one shot. bakery!au. features less puns than you would think. i am still very new to writing smut, so be kind in that regard. if this gets a lot of love, might be continued in the future.

warnings—adult language; smut; mild violence; awkward situations; super hopeless seokjin.

no limit—

So it starts like this:

Jungkook has been talking about his older sister moving to Seoul for a couple of weeks now and Seokjin doesn’t really believe him because in the 2 years that he’s known the college senior, he’s never mentioned having a sister, just an older brother. The young man only has pictures of his mom hung up in his apartment and all requests to see what the girl looks like have been met with a stern shake of his head. Taehyung has never seen the girl either, says Jungkook doesn’t like to talk about her and he doesn’t know why. He’s heard the girl over the phone though and says she sounds, “cute.” And while Namjoon is certainly right in saying it would be weird for Jungkook to make up having a sister, Seokjin thinks Jungkook is just a weird enough person to do it.

“She’s coming today, hyung,” Jungkook says one Wednesday afternoon, too much energy radiating off of him. He’s dressed much nicer that normal, no holes in his jeans and a long sleeved shirt covering most of his tattoos. He even got a haircut, something he hadn’t had in a while. Jungkook can’t stand still, constantly wiping down the counters and rearranging the cupcakes in the display case. Seokjin gets so sick of his constant movement that he sends him to the kitchen to knead dough. “Okay, but hyung, if she comes in you have to let me know.”

“I don’t know what she looks like.”

He sighs deep, the sound almost morphing into a whine. “She’s probably gonna be wearing something bright or she’ll just ask for me! Seokjin please!”

“Fine, fine. Now get to the back, you’re making everyone uncomfortable. You’re gonna make me go outta business.”

When you walk in wearing a bright red coat, Seokjin doesn’t make the connection. You look around the shop for a bit and Seokjin is stunned because goddamn you’re beautiful. It’s like a movie, the white lights of the shop forming a halo around you and everything slows to a crawl. You make it to the register, eyes widening at the chocolate donut pyramid displayed behind Seokjin and he knows he’s fucked. “Hi,” you say and, yup, Seokjin is super fucked.

“I... Hi-I mean… Welcome to Baking News! How can I bake your day?” And the recovery isn’t as smooth as he would have liked it to be, but you still laugh way too hard at the puns and his heart swells.

“You’re funny,” you state earnestly. “I’m actually not here to buy anything, though. I’m looking for my brother.”

“Your brother?” Seokjin asks dumbfounded, because he would definitely know if anybody worked for him that looked like you.

“Yeah! He’s tall and skinny. Oh and he has really big teeth. He kind of looks like a rabbit when he smiles.” All of the air leaves Seokjin’s lungs because there is no fucking way you are Jeon Jungkook’s sister. You guys look nothing alike—hell, it’s questionable if you're even from Korea, that’s how different you look. But then Jungkook comes scrambling out of the kitchen and over the counter screaming “Noona!” like he’s a character in a goddamn cartoon. And you wrap yourself around him like a python, hugging him so tight that his face turns red. “There’s my bunny boy,” you squeal and Jungkook plants a big sloppy kiss on your cheek and—

“Holy shit, he does have a sister.”

Okay, so you’re not Jungkook’s real sister. He’s just weirdly obsessed with you and keeps calling you his sister, but you’re not his sister. At least that’s the conclusion Seokjin comes up with because you don’t have the same surname and you don’t look alike and you tell him that you haven’t lived in Korea in over five years. You share that tidbit of information over coffee two weeks after your arrival, pink scarf wrapped gently around your neck in a way that Seokjin deems more flattering than it should be. You share a lot of information with him in the time that you’ve been back, always coming into the bakery to get the first sugary treat you can get your hands on.

“Bunny boy tells me you make the best lattes this side of Seoul,” you tell him one rainy Thursday morning, leaned up against the counter. The bakery is empty except for you two, the usual morning rush having filtered out quickly due to the inclemete weather. Seokjin snorts because you always call Jungkook ‘bunny boy,’ even on days like today when he’s not here and it’s so cute the way the words come out of your mouth. They tumble out so effortlessly, whereas Seokjin can’t go two minutes without stuttering over himself while talking to you. So he just snorts because it’s easier to make sounds than it is to form words when you’re staring up at him like he’s the most interesting man in the world. “Is it true, Jinnie?”

“Jinnie?” He asks incredulously, because you’ve never called him anything other than Seokjin.

“Cute name for a cute boy,” you say with a shrug, as if it’s obvious. It’s not

His mouth is moving before he can stop it. “Cute? You think I’m cute? Just cute?”

“Yeah, why?” You chirp out with a sly smirk. Seokjin’s heart stops—but his mouth does not.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not just cute. I’m handsome. In fact, I’m one of the most handsome men in the world. Have you ever seen a face more handsome than mine? More beautiful than mine? I know you lived abroad for a while and have seen a lot of attractive men walking around, but I promise you that this face right here is better. This face should be on billboards all over the world.” This isn’t the first time that Seokjin’s gone off on this tangent, of course. Everyone has heard it before, taking the comedy bravado for what it is and laughing him off. But when he says it to you, it feels like he’s marketing himself. He doesn’t want you to laugh him off. He wants you to believe him.

Your head lolls to the side as he speaks, as though you are fully taking his words into consideration, and when he finishes, you grin. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, Mr. Worldwide Handsome, do you really make the best lattes?” And Seokjin’s heart starts to constrict because even though your tone is teasing, your eyes are so sincere. He nods. You laugh. He’s fucked.

But he’s even more fucked because he can’t act on his attraction. Jungkook is scarily protective of you. He always seems to know where you are and who you’re with. He glares at any guy who looks at you for more than 10 seconds and shoves his hoodies over you if you’re showing too much skin. You mention downloading Tinder one Wednesday evening and the younger man nearly passes out. However, everyone’s accusations of him having a crush on you were met with immediate disgust because you’re his “sister.” In fact, he claimed on multiple occasions that you were the most despicable human being he’s ever met. “I pray that whoever I end up with is the exact opposite of my sister,” he mumbled one Sunday afternoon, frosting cupcakes in the kitchen. “She’s so fucking annoying. She doesn’t listen to anyone, no matter what they say. I don’t see how anyone could be attracted to her.”

“Ah, I don’t know man, I think she’s pretty cute.” Taehyung responded in jest, setting the completed cupcakes on a display pan.

“Stay the hell away from my sister you creep.” Jungkook all but growled out.

“Wow, the baby sounds serious,” Seokjin stated incredulously. “I didn’t know you could care about anyone other than yourself.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook replied, slightly embarrassed at being called out yet again for his so called selfish behavior. “She may be the worst woman I know, but she’s still my sister. I gotta make sure she’s well taken care of.”

“And you think I won’t do that?” Taehyung asked with faux shock. “I’m hurt.”

“Not a single one of you are good enough for my sister. She needs a doctor or a lawyer or someone super rich who can take care of her so she never has to work again. You guys all suck.” He stands up straight to admire his work before stating, with a frightening amount of cool, “If any of you guys tried it with her, I would kill you with my bare hands.”

So Seokjin tries his best to stay away from you. He attempts to keep his banter light, lessen his affection. He hopes to himself that you lose interest in the bakery, in the coffee, in him, but it’s difficult. You’re so easy to talk to. You think he’s funny, cracking up at all of his puns to the point of tears. When he winks at you, you smile so wide that he thinks your face might break. He falls harder for you every day.

It’s you that makes the first move though. It’s a balmy Friday night when you stalk in. Thirty minutes before closing, the bakery is empty except for two struggling rappers who loaded up on the discounted pastries that would otherwise get thrown away. You’re dressed up more than he’s ever seen you before, so much so that you look out of place standing next to the pastel pink sign touting the new peanut butter tira-miss-yous in your purple dress. “Well if it isn’t my favorite customer. What are you doing here so late at night?” Seokjin asks as you continue towards the counter.

“Bad date.” You mutter, before surprising Seokjin by pulling yourself up on top of the counter.

“Hey, who said you could sit up here? Didn’t anyone raise you with respect? That’s filthy! My sweets go up here.”

“I’m sweeter,” You quip and Seokjin chokes. You shift your body to face him a bit more. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Y-you—you can’t—Jungkook was right, you are disgusting.” He manages to stutter out, mind reeling at the thought of how sweet you actually were. “I have to clean that now. Get down.”

You ignore his request. “A pretty girl throws herself on a table in front of you talking about how sweet she is and you’re worried about cleanliness? Taehyung was right, you really are hopeless.”

He blanches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sigh, unmoving. “So bunny boy sets me up on this date right? He says it’s with one of his good friends who really inspires him. Someone that has helped him out a lot. I get excited because I think that it’s you. I mean, you literally gave him a job. How much more help can he get from one person? So I get all dressed up and ready to go only to have someone else show up at my door. And don’t get me wrong, the guy was attractive but he wasn’t you. He didn’t even make a single pun the entire time when there were plenty of opportunities to do so. He was so boring, Jinnie. Like, what do business lawyers really do anyways? The guy told me he hoped I had a good time, but I didn’t. So I decided to come here looking for an actual good time.”

“I… what?” Seokjin asks, unable to accept what you were implying.

“Oh my god, hyung, she likes you!” One of the rappers screams out from his table near the window. “Stop being dense.”

“I’m not—” Seokjin begins to yell back, but you cut him off.

“Jin, would you like to see a movie with me tomorrow night?”

When he looks at you, he sees a hopeful expression. He imagines closing up the bakery early and walking with you to the movie theater. He imagines what kind of snacks you’ll like and wonders if you’ll share them with him. He imagines wrapping his arm around you and how well you’d fit next to him. He imagines pressing his lips against yours in the dark, tongues wrestling against each other as his hands traveled down your body. He gulps. “Uh… yeah. I’d really like that.”

Seokjin’s not good at being in a relationship. He’s had a lot of toxic relationships in the past, with a lot of cheating and mental stress. He’s spent the last three years filling the void with a lot of meaningless sex. On more than one occasion, former friends with benefits came storming into the bakery to scold him for his lack of commitment. He focused on himself a lot; on getting through culinary school, on perfecting his skills in the oven, on opening his own shop. He tells you as much on the fourth date, hand wrapped tightly around your own as you walk through a flower garden. You listen intently, nodding your head and adding “ohs” and “ahs” when appropriate. Then you sit him on a bench and kiss him hard, tongue dragging against the roof of his mouth before whispering against his lips, “I don’t care. I like you anyway.”

Seokjin is happy with you. He smiles for no reason during the day, sings louder in the kitchen when frosting cakes, cusses less when the chocolate doesn’t temper or the cookies burn. He feels lighter, knowing that come closing time he can be wrapped up in you. His friends notice too. Namjoon teases him about how much more cheerful he is, while Taehyung and Jungkook pry for more information. He offers them none, much to their chagrin. He wants to keep you to himself, afraid that if the others find out, they’ll ruin it for him. Especially Jungkook—though he thinks about the other man’s disapproval less and less as he spends more and more time with you.

The relationship progresses slowly. You go on a lot of dates, whispering in the back of movie theaters and stealing small kisses on street corners. Seokjin likes to hold your hand. He marvels at the way it fits in his own, how easily you are able to slide your finger through his as you talk about work or travel or a memory from your childhood. Seokjin likes to hear you laugh. You think he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met. He’s gone through a rolodex of puns to try and hear the bubbling sound that spills out of you. You laughed the hardest on the 7th date, plastic gun slipping from your grip at an arcade, when Seokjin tells you he wrote a dessertation on Sweetzerland in culinary school. You hug him tight, face pressed against his chest as you continue to giggle at his words. He thinks you fit well there.

You don’t sleep together until three months in—an eternity for Seokjin. He’s never had to wait that long, but he finds it hard to argue when you whisper, “not tonight,” in his ear. He always agrees, calming himself enough to make it through the rest of the date. He ends up jacking off to thoughts of how you taste in the shower. You’re the biggest tease when it comes to that—your taste. The casualness with which you insist that you are sweeter than any dessert he’s ever made always leaves him drooling. Eating girls out was never his favorite sexual act, but he thinks you’ll change that.

“You can’t—you can’t just say those sort of things!” He yelled at you once, during your tenth date at a sushi restaurant. The waiter threw him a dirty look, as did a much younger couple seated next to you. He’s always louder than he needs to be, but you’re the only person he’s dated who never complained. Instead, you rolled your eyes at him and swallow your food.

“Why not?”

“We’re in public.”

“I didn’t say anything bad.”

“Don’t lie. Don’t pretend that you’re innocent! I can hear you. I have perfect hearing. Doctor’s everywhere are impressed by it. You can’t get those filthy words past me.” He berated, making you giggle.

You slid your hand over the table to grab his, kissing the back of it gently. He can’t help but blush. “Don’t be silly, Jin. I never said what part of me tastes better than strawberries, just that some part of me does.”

“Which part then?”

“Why? You want to try it for yourself?” He threw his head back with an annoyed groan at your words, making you laugh even louder. The couple shushed you both, yet again, shaking their heads as though you two are the immature ones in that situation.

When it finally does happen, much like the first date, it’s on your terms. You’re sitting in his apartment, legs thrown over his lap as you listen to him complain about a mom who ordered a cake of a whale for her son’s 8th birthday only to show up expecting a Beluga whale and not a Killer whale like Taehyung had decorated. Suddenly you sit up, arms coming out to grab Seokjin’s face as you set a soft kiss on his lips. Then a second. Then a third. With the fourth, you up the intensity by slipping your tongue into his mouth. He shuffles his body slowly between your legs, refusing to let your lips part as he hovers on top of you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down as you grind your center directly where his dick sits in his jeans.

These types of makeout sessions have happened before; often right before you need to catch the train or bus back home. You always pull away after 15 minutes or so; that’s why Seokjin freezes when you whisper against his lips, “Do you wanna taste me?” He can’t formulate words. He’s thought about this moment for weeks now; planned a response for everything you could possibly say, but he’s coming up short. He’s sure he looks crazy, eyes bulging from his head. “Jinnie, say something.”

“A-are you… are you serious?” He manages to stutter out.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Oh my god, take off your pants right now,” he yells in excitement, sitting up on his knees. Your laughter rips through the air as he fumbles with the button of your jeans, shaky hands pulling them down your thighs until they get caught at your knees. He huffs in annoyance, lifting your legs himself to get the now offensive fabric away from you. As soon as the jeans hit the floor, Seokjin drops down to his stomach between your thighs. You open your legs with a content sigh, making him wonder if you’ve been waiting for this moment as long as he has. He drags his lips lightly over your thighs before placing a kiss on the crotch of your panties. You shudder. He chuckles. “Promise you’re as sweet as candy?” He asks, voice unintentionally deepening as he comes closer to his target.

“Pinky swear,” you whisper. Taking this as his cue to move forward, Seokjin’s fingers gently ghost over the black fabric of your underwear before pulling the crotch to the side and exposing your core to the cool air. He takes in the fluid shapes and subtle wetness already gathering on your folds in awe, shocking himself with all the ways he could still find you beautiful. Closing the last bit of distance between you, he takes a tentative lick from the bottom of your slit to the top, the firm tip of his tongue pressing against your clit in the process. The action causes you to rock up, hands settling at the top of his head. “Fuck,” you whisper gently, the breathy sound going straight to his cock. He repeats the act once more, though this time his lips around your tender bud and he gives it a light suck. Your fingers thread through his hair tightly, guttural moan exiting your throat. Pride swells in Seokjin’s chest—he’s the reason you’re making those sounds.

“Jesus babe,” he murmurs, leaving open mouthed kisses on your thigh, “you’re even sweeter than candy.” You let an amused breath at his words, any laughter that would have bubbled up dying as those kisses reached your lower lips. “Can I take these off?” Seokjin asks, pulling further at your panties.

“Please.” With a bit more confidence than before, he moves to take your panties off completely. As he settles back down between your thighs, he sneaks a peek at you. You’ve relaxed back down on the couch, head leaned back on the armrest although your eyes never leave him. “Jin, please,” you whimper. Your words spur him on and he dives face first in your pussy, tongue working itself deep in and around your core. Soft whimpers turn to loud moans as he continues, only motivating him further. The need to make you cum becomes his only goal. “Fuck Jin, so goo—oh!” You moan out, jumping in shock when you feel his thick finger press against your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks, lifting his head up for confirmation that he can continue. With your rapid nods, he presses his index finger into you, sighing as he feels warm walls flutter and constrict around him. Then, as if another force has taken over his body, Seokjin surges his whole body forward to kiss you while he thrusts his finger at a steady pace. You readily welcome his lips against your own, not minding the taste of yourself against his tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Do you—fuck you are tight—baby… think you can cum like this?” He asks between kisses, your hips starting to buck into his hand. You mumble out an affirmative, pressing yourself closer to him.

He loses track of himself in the moment, one finger becoming two, thumb circling your clit, lips sucking bruises into your neck as you start to make desperate pleas in his ear for more, more, more. You give no warning when your orgasm hits you, just tensing up against him as your walls clamp down hard against his fingers. He litters your face with small pecks as he works you through it, fingers slowing only when he feels you begin to come down from your high.

“Jesus Jin, you’re really good at that,” you remark in a small voice as he removes his fingers from inside you, aftershocks continuing to rock your body.

He can’t help the cheshire grin that settles onto his face as he lifts himself off of you to get a good look at your fucked out form; your eyes are so dilated that they are nearly black, sweat sits at the edge of your scalp and brows, and your shirt is bunched up around your chest. He wants to kiss you again, wants to feel your legs wrapped around his waist, wants to feel everything you have to give and then some. “Baby,” he starts, suddenly feeling constricted by all the clothes he is wearing and how hot the room has gotten, “I could eat your pussy for hours on end, but I am so fucking hard right now. Please don’t leave me hanging.”

“Fuck that’s hot… do you have a condom?”

“Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom right now, come on!” Seokjin shouts, jumping up and pulling you off the couch with him, leading you through the short hallway to where he sleeps nightly. It’s a flurry of movement between the both of you, hands making bold passes over newly uncovered body parts as all remaining forms of clothing are removed. He lets an uncharacteristically animalistic growl when you finally wrap a hand around dick, moving it up and down at a near glacial pace. “Faster,” he finds himself begging, breathing harder when you comply with his request. He lets it go on for a while further before he gently pushes you on your back underneath him, hand digging in the drawer of his bedside table as he searches for the pack of condoms he knows is there. However, his movements stop and his mind goes blank when he feels you reach a hand for his cock again and grind his sensitive tip between your still soaked lips. He’s reeling, knowing he could slip right in if he wanted to, if you let him, despite how irresponsible it would be.

“Seokjin, condom! Hurry up!” You whine out, as if seeing his internal dilemma. Your other hand claws at his chest to further get his attention, snapping him out of his reverie and back into action.

When he finally locates a condom, he’s nearly rabid. He tears at the package and slips it on with such roughness that a small part of him worries he might break it. The bigger part of him, however, is focused on how delicious you look underneath him and how delicious your pussy will feel around him. He lets out a small huff when he finally gets the condom on, lining himself up with your entrance. He wants to take his time, wants to tease you a bit, but it takes one drag of the head of his cock against your slit for him to forget about all of that. He pushes inside of you slowly, warm walls clenching around him when he’s fully seated inside of you.

It goes by faster than expected. Your body accepts him so easily, like it was made for him. You suck him back in each time he pulls out. You tilt your hips up when he begins to thrust harder, eyes rolling to the back of your head each time his hips meet your thighs. His hands roam the expanse of your body, gently squeezing areas that are softer than he expected and running blunt nails against your sternum before one of them snakes behind your neck and pulls you up to meet him for a sloppy kiss. It’s messy, more tongue than lips and it makes you clench even tighter than before. Seokjin’s not sure if you’re close, but he knows he damn sure is.

“Honey I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He bites out, slowing down slightly as he lays you back down.

“Then cum,” you whimper back, though it sounds much more like an order. Hitching your legs up on his waist, Seokjin uses the last bit of energy he has to drill into you, chasing his orgasm until it crashes over him like a tidal wave. It’s the most pleasure he’s felt in months. All of his senses are overloaded as he cums, pressing deep inside of you. His hips stutter slightly as he milks himself to completion, feeling even more content when you run your fingers up and down his arms slowly.

It’s that sweet gesture that brings him back down to earth. He takes his time removing himself from you, unsure if he wants to leave now that he knows exactly what you feel like. Placing your legs off of his hips and shuffling off of the bed to throw away the condom, he quickly returns and flops on his back next to you.

“We gotta—we have got to do that again.” Seokjin finally breathes out, heart still racing. You curl up beside him, skin sticking to his own in a way that disgusts him slightly; yet, he still pulls you closer. “I didn’t make you cum.”

“You made me cum once.”

“But not on my dick.”

“I still enjoyed myself.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s an honor thing. You have to cum on more than my fingers.”

“Like right now? Or—”

“Don’t joke like that. My dick can’t handle it.” You giggle at his words and he feels something rising up in his chest that he can’t identify. Despite hearing all of your moans, whimpers, and whines for the past hour, he still thinks your laughter is the best sound in the world.

And later, when you start to drift off on his lap during a 90s movie marathon, Seokjin whispers promises into your skin that he’s never made before. You don’t say if you hear them, but relax further in his embrace.

“Oh this kid looks just like Jungkook.” Seokjin says one evening, sitting on the bed in your apartment. It’s the first time you’ve invited him in, having asked if he would spend the night because the bakery opens later on Saturdays and you want to sleep in with him. It’s such a cute request he can’t deny it. He thinks you’re so cute that it’s getting hard for him to deny you at all. He worries it will become a problem later, but he doesn’t dwell on it when your whole face lights up with happiness. Your apartment is quaint, with big white walls covered in pictures and knick knacks from your various adventures overseas. You float around the bedroom grabbing things for Seokjin—towels, extra pillows, a spare toothbrush—and laugh at him. “What’s so funny, huh?”

“That is Kook.”

“Really?” He takes the framed picture from your nightstand and looks at it more closely. It’s for sure you in the picture, just much younger. You sport messy hair and large t-shirt combo that would be embarrassing to most, but you’re holding on to a much smaller and skinnier kid with such excitement that it just reads as adorable. “Wow, you guys have really known each other for a long time.”

You let out an airy laugh of disbelief, placing the things on a chair placed in the corner of the room. “Since he was born.”

“Oh, so that’s why he calls you his sister,” Seokjin starts with a nod of understanding. “I thought he just had a crush on you or something. I didn’t realize that you’ve known him for so long. Your families must be really close right?”

You laugh again, but the tone is off. Seokjin catches it, but you’re crawling on the bed next to him and wrapping an arm around his back before he can question it. “Baby,” you start, voice light but edging on serious, “you know I’m actually bunny boy’s sister right? Like we’re really related. His family is my family.”

It’s a gut punch, hearing those words come out of your mouth. He isn’t sure how to process and he’s sure he looks like a fish as his mouth opens and closes as he tries to find something to say. He settles on, “What?”

“Jungkook is my little brother.”

“But you guys don’t even look alike.” He responds, feeling his brain short circuit. “You literally couldn’t be more different. And you guys don’t even have the same names. You can’t—it doesn’t…”

You sigh, unwrapping your arms from around him while shaking your head. “It’s complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well for starters, we’re not blood related at all.”

“So you’re not siblings then?” Seokjin asks incredulously, because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Biologically no,” you stress, grabbing the picture out of his hands. There are red indentations on his palms from where he was squeezing it so tight. “But, legally speaking, we are siblings. All the paperwork I have will tell you I’m part of his family. But more than that, all of us were raised together as brother, brother, and sister.”

It really is a complicated story, Seokjin thinks as you explain your family history to him. Friends of friends, broken trust, being in the right place at the right time, and international trips brought you into the Jeon family. You never looked at Jungkook as anything other than family; Jungkook never knew you as anything other than his sister, biology be damned. “He never talked about you though,” Seokjin admits, head pounding from information overload. “Like ever. He only ever mentioned his—well your—brother.”

You roll your eyes at this information, but don’t seem surprised. “He was mad at me for a long time. He thought it was stupid that I left to try and reconnect with my bio family. Do you know he can hold a grudge for a really long time? He wouldn’t answer my phone calls for a year after I first left.” You let out a small sigh, flopping back on your bed. “We only really just got back to a good place. I think that’s why he’s been so clingy lately.”

Seokjin squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. “Ugh, Kook is really gonna kill me,” He mumbles, laying down beside you.

“Why would he do that?” You whisper, moving your body to curl into him. “He’s the reason I started dating you in the first place.”

“What are you even talking about?” Seokjin groans out. “Don’t say false things just to comfort me. It won’t work.”

“I’m serious. He’s like your biggest fan. He talks about you all the time. Hearing and seeing how much you cared for him meant a lot to me. It made me like you for more than just your looks. I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself in front of you so many times if I thought you were a bad guy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Seokjin hums mindlessly, thoughts still a jumbled mess in his head from all the information he has received. One thing sticks out in his mind though. He turns his head to lay a soft peck on your forehead. “You know you never embarrassed yourself in front of me, right?”

“What are you talking about? I practically begged you to take me on a date.”

“You saved me from myself. I embarrassed myself way more. I could barely talk to you without becoming a mess and tripping over all my words.”

“I wouldn’t want you any other way. You’re my mess.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook was wrong. You’re the best woman in the whole wide world and you're all mine, mine, mine!”

“Kim Seokjin, you motherfucker—” Here’s the thing, Jungkook is Seokjin’s youngest friend. He plays the role of the baby well, to the point where Seokjin feels as though he’s raised him. It’s so easy to forget that Jungkook is not as young as he acts; he’s always so kind and affectionate. He’s also the hardest worker at the bakery, always coming in early and staying late to make sure everything is finished. However, the boy was so much stronger than he looked. He worked out 6 days a week for fun and described getting tattoos as a pleasurable experience. Of course he would be able to pick Seokjin up and pin him against the wall by his throat.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down!” Namjoon shouts, running up to try and pull the younger man away. Jungkook does not relent, fighting against his friend to continue to try and choke Seokjin. “Kook, listen man! This is not the way to handle this!”

“He fucked my sister!” He screams and the accusation sounds so much worse coming out of Jungkook’s mouth, especially because it’s true. Except there is so much more than fucking that’s going on, but he can’t get the words out of his mouth to say that through Jungkook’s yells. “Thought I wouldn’t find out? Thought she would keep it a secret?” He spits out, still struggling against Namjoon.

“It’s not like that—” Seokjin begins, voice smaller than he anticipated, but Jungkook cuts him off.

“Bullshit!” Jungkook screams, voice cracking with rage. “I know you. I know how you are. You think you can just use my sister to get off?”

Now it’s Seokjin’s turn to be angry, with the thought of anyone only being with you for your body making him see red. “Do you really think I’m like that? You really think that I would hurt her like that?”

“Never stopped you before,” Jungkook responds sarcastically. “What did the last girl say again? Jin just wants a human fucktoy.” Seokjin winces at the words he once found humorous. The girl, a pretty florist he met at a bar, came in with the intent to tear him to shreds. She was met with indifference and laughter. He never realized how quickly her words would come back to haunt him. “You think my sister is a human fucktoy? Is that what it is?”

“Shut up,” Seokjin barks out, unable to think of you in that way.

But Jungkook is no longer fighting against Namjoon, content with his words bringing the pain. “You’re not good enough for her. You’ll never be good enough for her. I’ll kill you before I ever let you treat my sister like one of your whores.”

“That’s enough,” Namjoon orders, frustration painting his features. “This isn’t going to solve anything. Jungkook, you should leave.”

Jungkook scoffs, pushing Namjoon away from him. “You’re on his side,” he accuses, pain in his voice, “You think it’s okay that he’s fucking my sister.”

“I don’t think anything,” Namjoon stresses. “But fighting in our place of business is not smart. People can hear us out there and whether you like it or not, your outburst is gonna affect more than just Jin. This can be dealt with later.”

Jungkook is quiet, though he trembles with anger. Seokjin wonders, briefly, if the man will swing on Namjoon. However, Jungkook just shakes his head and states, “Fuck your business. I quit.”

“Are you going to fire him?” You ask over the phone that night, worry evident in your voice. You canceled your date upon finding out what your brother did. You told him good faith when he tried to set you up another date with a doctor he knew, hoping he would be happy for you. He was not. You said you had to talk to him, make sure you understood where he was coming from before you passed judgement. He was your brother after all.

Seokjin wants to laugh. He can’t. He’s miserable. He wants all of this to end, but he doesn’t want his relationship with you to end. He’s tired. “I can’t fire someone who quit.”

“He didn’t mean it. He’s going to apologize to you.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

But two days later, he finds you standing at his apartment door, Jungkook behind you looking at the ceiling in avoidance. Seokjin fights against his urge to hug you, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and plant a wet kiss against the skin that leaves you squirming and pushing him away from being, “gross!” He stares at you silently, but you smile at him like nothing is wrong. “Can we come in?” You ask sweetly, stepping in at Seokjin’s nod. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch, making you scowl. You turn to face the man Seokjin now knows as your brother and snap, “Get in here right now.”

The man obeys you, stepping inside of the apartment and shutting the door behind him. No one makes a move. Seokjin wants to choke on the tension. Finally, Jungkook lets out a deep breath and states, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You say with a leading tone.

Jungkook clenches his fist, jaw tightening. “I’m sorry for choking you in the bakery. It was unprofessional of me to do so.”

“And?” You continue. Jungkook closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Jungkook!” You shout, causing the man to flinch, yet his silence continues. Seokjin watches in amazement as you reach your hand up to grab the younger boy’s ear and tug hard. Jungkook howls in pain, trying to pry your fingers away. You don’t let up. “I don’t care about your pride or your protection. You are going to apologize to Jin properly right now!” Jungkook whines loudly. You twist your fingers and the boy’s knees buckle. The scary beast who pinned Seokjin against the wall was gone. In his place was a child, weak and subdued. He wants to laugh, but doesn’t. He’s sure that if he does, it will come back to haunt him later.

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.” Jungkook screams out. With a final pull, you let go. Jungkook rubs his ear lightly and huffs, glaring at you. You return his stare. With another sigh, he turns back to Seokjin and states, “I crossed the line. I shouldn’t have hit you or said those things. It was wrong… but—”

“No buts!” You shout out, hand reaching up again. Jungkook catches it and grasps it tightly in his own hand. He shushes you with a look that says more than Seokjin could ever guess. He drops your hand and you let it rest at your side with a sigh.

“Can you leave?” Jungkook asks you. “I just want to talk to him alone. I won’t—I will not put my hands on him. I promise.” There is a sincerity in his tone that Seokjin has not heard in a while. It gives him hope.

Your head rolls back and forth, as if weighing out your options before stating, “Ten minutes, Kook. You hear me? Ten. And if he tells me you so much as even threaten him, you’ll have a whole lot more to be worried about than your ear!” At his aggressive nod of understanding, you turn to Seokjin. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You state, before leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. Seokjin notices the way Jungkook’s jaw tenses at the open display of affection. With one more stern look to your brother, you exit the apartment.

There is a beat of silence before Seokjin suggests they sit down in the living room. It’s awkward. Jungkook has been in this room before, even passed out there a time or two; but he’s as stiff as a board when he sits on the couch. He refuses to look at Seokjin, eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him. His breaths are measured and he opens and closes his mouth a few times as he decides what to say.

Finally, he speaks. “You don’t seem to understand that she’s my sister. My only sister, Jin.”

“I understand th—”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. I know I’m younger and you think I act like a kid, but I’m not. Not with her. I’ve spent my whole life protecting her. People always try to take advantage of her because… I don’t know. So many reasons.” Jungkook stops, struggling for words. He takes another deep breath and finally looks at Seokjin. “When we were younger, boys would bully her for being adopted. She would act like it didn’t bother her, but I could see that it did. I must have got into twenty fights making sure they kept their mouth shut when it came to her. After everyone, whether I won or lost, she would always be happier. And that was all that mattered. When she moved away I was so angry because who was going to protect her out there? Her bio family is shit. They never wanted anything to do with her. Then she started dating this guy who cheated on her and I couldn’t even get to him and I—” He stops again, having worked himself up. “I want her to be happy, okay? I don’t want her to be sad anymore.”

Seokjin is shocked. He’s never heard Jungkook speak so seriously and with so much passion. His eyes are glassy, tears clearly threatening to spill over. He looks ragged. There are dark circles under his eyes. He’s not even holding himself up properly anymore, body limp in the seat. It’s clear this has been weighing on the boy and Seokjin feels a wave of guilt wash over him. This isn’t what he wanted to happen at all.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin states, breaking the silence, “For not telling you. For letting it get this far. As your boss—no, as your friend, I should have let you know.” Jungkook nods, swiping at his eyes roughly. “I do… I do care about her a lot. I don’t look at her like… if I only wanted her for sex, I would have stayed away.”

“Do you… do you love her?”

“I…” Seokjin hesitates. He’s never thought about it really, loving you. He’s never even thought about love in general. For years, he didn’t think he was capable of loving someone romantically. But when he’s with you, everything feels like it’s in its proper place. “I think—I do. ”

Jungkook hums in response, throwing his head back on the couch and really relaxing for the first time since he stepped through the door. “She loves you too,” Jungkook says as though it's a hard fact. Seokjin feels his throat tighten at his words. It’s been a long time since he’s been loved. “Like a lot. That’s the only reason I’m here… ”

“I won’t hurt her.” Seokjin says adamantly, hoping he sounds as sincere as he is.

“You better not.” He mutters. There is another beat of silence before Jungkook meekly asks, “Can I get my job back?”

“Ask Namjoon.”

“Fuck!”

So it ends like this:

After many apologies, Jungkook gets his job back. He’s put on samples duty for a month, standing outside of the bakery with a new pun-filled sign wrapped around his neck everyday. He hates it, especially when you show up to snap a picture and post it on your Instagram. Namjoon reposts one of them on the Baking News SEOUL account and it becomes the most liked picture on the whole page. You and Seokjin howl with laughter when you see the numbers, much to Jungkook’s annoyance. He still doesn’t approve of the relationship—at least, not completely. He rolls his eyes every time he sees a kiss or a hug; he insists you don’t stay in the bakery long, shoving you out of the door after five minutes because he’s sick of seeing you flirting with his boss; he scoffs when you come in more dressed up than usual for date nights. Yet, he makes sure Seokjin knows what types of flowers you like getting on your birthday and what your ring size is, “because that’s information you’ll need sooner or later.”

On Sundays, Seokjin closes the bakery early and brings you to the kitchen. He stands behind you, hand on your hip as he instructs you on how to ice the practice cakes he baked for you earlier. He knows you won’t do it perfectly, knows you’ll eventually dip a finger in the frosting to try it for yourself, knows you’ll try to get him to do the same and put some on his face when he refuses. It might start a food fight that will take too long to clean up; might make him bend you over the counter and fuck you until your moans reverberate off of the walls. Regardless, it always ends with you kissing him all over his face, exchanging soft “I love yous” until you’re ready to go home. Seokjin thinks he’s okay with both scenarios; thinks he’ll be okay with both for a long time.

#seokjin senarios #bts scenarios #jin scenarios #kim seokjin #namjoon #taehyung #jungkook #this took forever #goodness gracious #sailor belle writes #seokjin smut #jin smut #bts smut #au: baking news

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everwitch-magiks · 3 years

Text

dance with somebody (ch. 21)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 20

Louis is tired.

It's been a bit of a week. He's had two mock business proposals to finish, plus a pretty big presentation on innovative concepts in virtual-reality entertainment, and consequently, he's spent far too much time trying to recall annoyingly specific descriptors in the English language. And here’s the thing – Louis knows English, okay? He's got the fluency, and certainly the vocabulary. It's not his fucking fault that there's simply no way to translate skräckblandad förtjusning (meaning: mixed feelings of fear and delight, except not quite) while actually retaining that completely essential connotation of sky high adrenaline rush in the best and worst way possible.

He needs a fucking break.

On Saturday morning, he wakes up late and puts on his favorite jeans and a faded The Ark t-shirt. He packs his backup bluetooth speakers (Nursey's still hogging his best ones, but considering how that's somehow become a major factor in Louis's current strategy for dibs, he's certainly not about to ask for them back) and sets off to make the short trek across campus. When he opens the door to the Haus, he is for once not greeted by the pleasant smell of freshly baked goods.

Perfect.

Louis whistles as he sets up his speakers on the kitchen counter and puts on his playlist of ultimate guilty pleasures, aptly titled how can I resist you. He collects a bowl from the usual cupboard and digs through the pantry and fridge for the right ingredients. He doesn't need to look up the recipe. Hasn't needed to for years, now.

He's carefully stirring sugar and eggs together when Hops enters the kitchen.

“You’re baking,” Hops says, and really, he has no business sounding so surprised. Hops baked, like, less than two days ago. Someone’s always baking. “And, wait. Is that ABBA?”

Since the opening of Waterloo is literally blasting from his speakers, Louis doesn’t even bother trying to deny it. He shrugs, instead, and winces as Hops starts to hum along to the lyrics. It takes Hops approximately half the first verse before he realises that Louis isn’t actually playing the English version.

Hops quiets, and looks over towards Louis’s baking project, instead. He grins.

“Hey. Is that gonna be, like, a cake?”

“I mean, kind of.”

Louis starts measuring his dry ingredients in a second bowl, moving mostly on autopilot. Flour. Salt. Cocoa powder.

“You might wanna whisk those eggs, my friend,” Hops says, his tone annoyingly important. “That’s what Dex says, if you wanna get that cake nice and airy-”

“I don’t,” Louis cuts in. “It’s not that kind of cake.”

“Huh.” Unfortunately, Hops sounds completely fascinated. “What kind of cake is it?”

Louis sighs. Fuck. More terminology.

“I think it’s called a mud cake, in English,” he explains, wincing at the words despite the fact that he just chose them himself. “That’s not a literal translation from Swedish, though, and it honestly sounds dumb. Who wants to eat mud?”

“What’s it called in Swedish, then?”

Louis grimaces. “Uh. Sticky cake? Basically. Which sounds way more appetizing in Swedish, I promise. Anyway, it’s actually something of a classic.”

“So it’s, like, traditional?” Hops says, his eyes lighting up. “That’s really cool, man.”

“No, not really, it’s more…” Louis begins, only to trail off. This is actually exactly what he’s been trying to completely avoid, today. “Sorry, Hops, can I just finish baking?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Hops takes a couple of steps back. He looks mildly confused. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Hops wanders out of the kitchen. Someone else comes down the stairs, and Louis barely registers a hushed conversation in the hallway. Moments later, he’s joined by Whiskey, instead.

Whiskey nods towards him, and makes a beeline for the pot of coffee.

Louis finishes his batter and pours it into a springform pan. He pops it in the oven and sets a timer on his phone. There.

When he looks up again, he finds Whiskey watching him over a cup of coffee.

Whiskey doesn’t look merely tired. No, Whiskey looks fucking exhausted. Louis belatedly remembers that he hasn’t actually seen Whiskey for a few days, that there's been hushed whispers all week about Whiskey’s sudden and completely unexplained absence. Yet despite all of that, Whiskey has evidently found the time and energy to stick around in the kitchen, just now, and wait for Louis to look his way. Their eyes meet, and Whiskey raises both eyebrows slightly, his expression one of mild concern and careful curiosity.

“It’s nothing,” Louis says, before Whiskey has even asked. “I’m just… I get really tired, sometimes.”

“I get that,” Whiskey says. He’s nodding slowly. “It’s been a really tough season.”

“It’s not… This is different.” Louis pauses. It’s a little easier, this time, to find the right words. “I’m tired of people not getting things. I’m tired of having so many things nobody gets."

"Like cake," Whiskey says lightly, and okay, Hops has definitely put him up to this. "Do you wanna tell me about it?"

Louis shakes his head.

"I'm so fucking tired of telling people shit, I just… I miss just being. I miss not constantly looking for the right words. I miss home."

"Ah," Whiskey says. He's nodding again. "Okay. I don't exactly get that, but that's kind of your whole point, isn't it?"

"A little bit, yeah." Louis almost smiles. "Sorry, I don't mean to dump all of my shit on you. You probably have enough going on, at the moment."

"Let's not talk about me," Whiskey says evasively, and alright, apparently that's not a conversation they're about to have, right now. "Listen, do you wanna… Okay, this might sound sort of stupid."

Louis raises both eyebrows.

"Try me."

"Talk to me in Swedish, for a bit."

"What?" Louis frowns. "I'm afraid you'd find that entirely incomprehensible."

"No, I know." Whiskey smiles slightly. "I promise I'll still nod and hum in all the right places. Okay?"

Despite that reassurance, Louis hesitates. It honestly sounds really fucking dumb. Whiskey is watching him sort of expectantly, though, and fuck it, he might as well try. Because if Whiskey has for some reason made it his mission to cheer Louis up despite the fact that Whiskey’s clearly got some sort of huge, unacknowledged crisis of his own to deal with, the very least Louis can do is humour him.

"Det kommer dröja minst fem månader innan jag får träffa min lillsyrra igen, och alltså, hon är skitjobbig, men det är ändå fan inte okej."

Louis pauses. Whiskey is nodding, as promised, and his expression actually looks just the right level of sympathetic.

Huh.

Louis keeps talking.

He tells Whiskey about his other siblings, too, about his two older brothers who are actually occasionally even worse than his sister. It's kind of a miracle that he misses them all as much as he does. He talks about his stupidly boring home town, about that one coffee place that's clearly superior to all the rest and the outdoor rink that's right by the lake, about his mom's cinnamon buns and a fresh sheet of ice and that gorgeous sunrise and his best friend right there, lacing up her skates next to Louis and prattling on about some new band she's just discovered that Louis absolutely must listen to, and-

Louis's phone buzzes.

Immediately, Louis cuts himself off mid-sentence and practically lounges for the oven mittens. He carefully takes out the cake, which to the untrained looks like it's not quite done, yet.

Fucking perfection.

"Hey, now," Whiskey says. He sounds amused. "I'm sure five more seconds would've been fine."

"Är du dum på riktigt, eller, tänk om…" Oh. Right. "And risk overbaking this baby? Not on my watch."

"If you say so." Whiskey looks a bit curious. "I think I actually caught, like, two or three words out of all that. One of them was definitely idiot."

"Probably." Louis shrugs. "You should meet my siblings, sometime."

"I'd have to brush up on my Swedish, first."

"Nah. Clearly, you're a natural."

Whiskey smiles, and Louis actually finds it fairly easy to smile back. He feels a little less tense, compared to before. A little more grounded.

"So. Turns out that wasn't completely pointless." Louis grins. And then, because it feels like that kind of moment, he continues. "I'm gonna vote for you, you know. As captain."

Something very complicated passes over Whiskey's expression.

"I know you're gonna do great," Louis adds. God, why is Whiskey looking at him like that? He must know that he's basically guaranteed to be chosen, already. Everyone knows. "And we're all gonna have your back. Alright?"

"Thanks, man." Whiskey's not quite meeting his eyes. "I should, uh. I've got to go."

"You should have some cake," Louis says firmly. He digs out a spoon from the top drawer and carefully traces it along the inside of the springform pan, before removing the sides. The slice he cuts only just holds together. He grins in satisfaction as he hands Whiskey the plate. "Here. You won't regret it, I promise."

Whiskey barely smiles. He still looks a bit shaken up. Louis wonders if he should mention this to Dex, or Tango and Ford, or maybe to that one water polo kid who's always hanging around the Haus, lately. To someone Whiskey actually talks to about stuff.

"Oh my God."

Whiskey has taken his first bite. He's staring at his plate in disbelief.

"What the… This is, like, some sort of fucking chocolate heaven. In my mouth. What the fuck." He takes another bite. "Why aren't you making this every day, always?"

"Kitchen's usually busy, isn't it?" Louis serves himself a generous slice. "Glad you like it, though."

"I'm gonna need more of this, like, yesterday," Whiskey says decisively, just as at least three people enter the kitchen at once.

"You baked, Louis? 'Swasome."

"Fuck, that smells so good."

"Plates! We need plates!"

Even in the middle of the general mayhem that ensues, Louis doesn't miss the fact that Whiskey cuts himself an extra slice before he's even finished his first, locates a second spoon and quietly leaves the kitchen. Which all seems a little excessive, maybe, but Whiskey's evidently going through some shit right now, and if plenty of cake and a high quantity of cutlery is what's gonna get him through it, Louis won't judge.

"Hey," Jader says, already halfway through his second slice. "That guy on your shirt looks pretty hot. Who is he?"

"He's a singer." Louis reaches for his phone. The best thing about music is, it never needs to be explained. "And a fucking legend. Take a deep breath, okay? You're in for quite a ride."

He puts on It Takes A Fool To Remain Sane, and serves himself a second slice.

ch. 22

#check please #omgcheckplease #omgcp #Louis #yes #our very own Lukas Landmann #and kladdkaka #this chapter is so indulgent you have no idea #I know we're all waiting for Whiskey to figure out his shit and all #but here's a fun interlude with our favorite Swedish wellie baking cake?#I'm Swedish okay let me have this #also #do yourself a favor #listen to The Ark #evie writes #fanfiction #dance with somebody

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keeroo92 · 3 years

Text

Be My Nightmare Ch18

The Hunt

Word count - 5,487

Quick shout out to @just-another-art-dump for all her help with brainstorming and beta reading the last section. You are a goddess!

Warnings for violence, murder and some yummy spice. Enjoy!

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

--------

V blinked to clear away the sleepiness lingering in his mind. A thick haze of confusion gave him pause; did he have another episode? Where was he? He blinked again, forcing his eyes to focus on his surroundings.

The room was one he recognized instantly. Dark blue walls, posters of rock bands and action films tacked up in places. Splashes of light peeked past the old curtains hanging over a two-paned window. The familiar bookshelf, still messily stuffed with comics and tattoo books, right beside a small desk littered with needles, tubes and other accoutrements.

Nero’s bedroom, untouched since his death. His heart sank. Of all the places to find himself…

The artist took a shaky breath and tried to clear the cobwebs clinging to the rafters of his mind. Last he recalled, he was evading capture and bearing a fresh gunshot wound. Foggy, half-formed images danced in his memory of walking, lovely red on his hands and the hem of his pants, his own blood oozing lazily from his thigh.

As if thinking of it made it manifest, pain rocketed up his leg, fiery and unrelenting. He gasped and brought his hands to press the ache away. Was he still bleeding? How long had he been out? Panic teased at him for a beat before his palms registered the bandage and his missing pants.

What in the world…?

The pain slid into background noise as he carefully shifted his weight and sat up, panning his gaze until he found the culprit of his treatment.

Hot damn, how the hell did she find us?!

“Excellent question,” he croaked.

You weren’t awake yet, and faint streaks of scarlet coated your arms as if you tried to wash his blood off but gave up halfway. Hair a mess, clothing wrinkled and a hint of drool hanging from your lips, he’d never seen you so unkempt.

Good, she’s sleeping. Make a break for it, Van Gogh!

Blue feathers swept past his vision but vanished a heartbeat later. He licked his lips. “I doubt walking is wise for now, let alone ‘making a break for it.’”

Fine, but at least strangle her. She’ll only get in the way.

He rolled his eyes. “You do realize she probably saved my life, right?”

Well… I guess. Fine, don’t kill her but don’t let your guard down.

The artist hummed and Griffon made no further comment. Good enough.

He gritted his teeth and forced his aching body to move closer to you. Shadows hung beneath your eyes and he spotted the remains of yesterday’s makeup, nearly invisible with your hair draped over your cheek. He gently brushed it aside.

Your eyes shot open, instantly alert and aware. “You’re awake… How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better,” he replied with a wry grin. “I’ve also been worse.”

The bed rustled as you sat up and tucked your unruly hair behind your ears, a slight frown turning your lips. “Let me get you something for the pain, one sec.”

Once again summoned by his awareness, he winced as a bolt of agony pulsed up to his hip. By the time it faded, your palm held out two white tablets and a glass of water.

“Drink slowly,” you said. He obeyed.

An oddly heavy silence hung between you as he lowered the glass. Unspoken words, questions and answers alike searching for the right way to surface. None broke free from their cages of closed lips as you checked his pulse, your touch more medical than personal.

He hated it.

“How did you find me?” the artist blurted.

“You don’t remember? Follow with your eyes, not your head,” you replied, one finger drifting this way and that in his sight. He restrained the urge to bat it away. “You sent me a message.”

You goddamned idiot.

There was no arguing against the truth. He didn��t remember considering sending a message, let alone addressing it to you. It was a miracle it didn’t end up in the inbox of a stranger.

Still. You could’ve turned him in. After the way he fled your apartment, it would’ve made sense. He took another small sip of water.

“You came even after what happened. Why?”

The finger lowered. Lips pursed, you gave him an indecipherable look. He watched the wheels behind your hazel irises turn; toward what result, he couldn’t say. Regardless, he reveled in watching your intelligence at work.

“Do you remember what you said to my dad? That you loved me?”

His lips twitched. This didn’t bode well. “Yes.”

There, he spotted a twinge of uncertainty in your brow. Worry in the set of your mouth, vulnerability in the wideness of your eyes. “Did you mean it?”

I TOLD you that was a foolish idea.

Vergil’s words barely registered; V’s mind was already spinning, struggling to find an answer. At the time, he thought it was the best way to get your father to behave. By staking a claim to you, he established his willingness to defend you. He hadn’t considered whether the words held weight. The answer you wanted now was obvious, and to voice it would all but guarantee your allegiance. It was simple.

And yet so complicated.

Do I love her? What does love even mean?

Throughout history, love held innumerable definitions. The word was constantly evolving, shifting to encompass more variations than before. The greatest and most enduring tales ever told centered on it, and not a soul on earth could deny its influence. Monuments and cathedrals stood testament to its strength, and endless words written across the centuries praised or cursed its existence.

Love defined humanity.

Yet how could he know if this was it? What did romantic love feel like? How did one classify such an intangible concept? So many tried, and many more to come. Perhaps the nature of love was variable; why else would everyone have a different idea of what it meant?

Love, like art, must be subjective.

So what is it to me?

“I…” the artist murmured.

His path led the same way with or without you, but he preferred the former. When he knew you’d see the product of his work, its quality improved. You saturated his thoughts, scrawled your name across the walls of his mind with a messiness only doctors managed.

Your presence eased his nerves, and no other came close to matching your intellect. A worthy opponent for mind games and machinations, you never failed to amaze him with your ability to force his hand. You protected him and gave him shelter when he needed it most, and not once did you demand he change his methods. You respected his views. In time, you might even share them.

You challenged him, irritated him, turned him on and gave him hope that he may yet escape the cold embrace of loneliness.

And most of all, there was the inexplicable desire to answer your question with truth instead of manipulation. He didn’t want to tell you he meant what he said just to coerce you into being his. Surely that indicated something?

This isn’t a question I can answer in a single word.

V sighed and met your lovely eyes at last, his response as well-reasoned as he could manage. “I’m not sure. It’s… it’s difficult for me to care for someone, it’s been many years since I tried.”

He paused to lick his lips and assemble another sentence. The answer you wanted remained out of his reach, and he refused to give you the one that would serve his plans best. All he offered was the truth.

Even so, it stung to see the half-hidden disappointment on your face.

“But there’s something there I can’t explain. I just don’t understand the feeling, so I can’t name it,” he concluded. A chorus of pained groans echoed in his mind.

All you had to say was yes! What the hell is WRONG with you, do you want her to stick around or not?!

You sighed and shifted your weight. He didn’t dare to comment further.

“I think I understand. It… it scares me sometimes, but I can’t deny that I care about you anymore. I can’t keep hiding.”

V released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His heart was pounding, a giddy desire to laugh tickling his throat. Impulse took the reins, and he watched in wonder as his hand moved to take yours.

“You never have to hide again,” he whispered.

~~~~Waras~~~~

Something in his eyes hammered home his words. An earnest, unguardedness that you’d never seen before. Genuine gratitude and honesty, perhaps. You couldn’t look away.

You discarded thought and leaned in. Lips parted and heart hammering against your ribs, frenetic excitement stilling your breath as V did his best to match your movement.

The kiss was gentle, completely different from what you’d shared at the museum or in your apartment. The world melted away. It was just you and him, everything else was just color and noise, polluting the fragile bond you’d formed. Despite the lies and manipulation, past the tricks and mind games.

Somehow, like a miraculous seed sprouting in a rocky cliff face, love bloomed in a heart that had never known it.

When at last you pulled away, a lopsided smile curved V’s lips. The emerald pools of his eyes sparkled with genuine affection, and his palm refused to leave your cheek. You didn’t mind.

In fact, you wanted more.

You kissed him again, harder this time. Lips communicating without words your need, not just for contact but for understanding. Hunger and reckless desire danced across your mouth, your fingers grasping at his chest. You’d never know which of you moaned first; just that the sound sent you careening past the point of no return.

By the time you came up for air, you were helpless.

“Hold still,” you whispered. The artist licked his lips and nodded.

You wiggled off your jeans, panties tucked within. A soft gasp stroked your ego as you pulled off your top and carefully straddled him, his length hardening against your tingling folds. Gods, how you wanted to feel him deep within, feel his body arcing to meet yours as his voice gave out in a whirlwind of pleasure.

But that would have to wait. This time, he needed to let you do all the work.

“If you lift your hips, I’m getting off. Got it?”

His palms traced fire over your hips, blazing over your body as he smirked at you. Damn him, the smug bastard. “Doctor’s orders?”

You almost moaned at the husky tone he used. “Just say yes, damnit.”

His smirk vanished. Lithe fingers took hold of your ass and gently pulled, guiding you to envelop him one inch at a time. His brows met and his lips fell open, his face an expression of sheer perfection your imagination could never capture.

“Yes…” he murmured.

He fit perfectly, stretching you just enough without being painful. The ridge of his head pushed past your inner muscles and sent a shockwave of pleasure throughout your limbs. Your slick walls shuddered at the welcome fullness, embracing his heat like a long lost friend. Like he belonged there.

Like he was coming home.

For a moment, you didn’t move, wanting to memorize the feeling of being with him for the first time. A choice made many weeks past set your life on course to this exact moment, your every decision only bringing you closer. Two stars orbiting each other, closer and faster with each second as two became one in a fiery explosion that shook the heavens.

You smiled, hands snaking around his neck as you rolled your hips. Nerves sang as you moved, crying out in exultant joy. It was torture to move so slowly, such exquisite agony when all you wanted was to slam against his hips and feel his need splitting you in half.

Slick fluid coated him in seconds as you moved. Each movement pulled him deeper, deeper, deeper. Hot breath spilled from his lips, soft moans from yours. His hands gripped your hip bones, urging you to keep going, his muscles flexing to help you rise and fall, guiding you to impale yourself over and over.

Beads of sweat broke out across your back, but you paid them no mind. It was worth it to hear the man curse and gasp, his eyes hooded and skin flushed from your attention. The time would come for him to show you how he liked it, but for now you reveled in the power you held. It took all your strength to keep from bouncing recklessly.

But the artist was no passenger, and his grip shifted to tangle in your hair and drag your mouth to his for a searing kiss. His tongue danced a tango with yours, flicking and darting back and forth to torture you with his intoxicating taste. Whimpers flowed from your throat only for him to swallow.

Why the fuck didn’t we do this sooner?

The artist grinned against your needy lips, his lithe fingers lowering to tease at your core. Your body quivered as he lazily painted bliss over your aching bundle, as if you were his latest canvas. He spewed filth as he hunted for that perfect spot, his touch taunting you with ecstasy long before he struck gold.

“That’s it, right there, come on!” you gasped out, arcing back at the brink of ecstasy..

The artist obeyed, tugging you down again to suckle at your pulse. His lips were heaven on your throat, and his teeth nirvana when he blessed you with a nibble. It was too much and somehow not enough, never enough, never-

FUCK!

The world flashed blindingly white, searing your retinas as you crested. The cosmos raced by, the colors and shapes too beautiful to understand. Brilliance and beauty, a kaleidoscope of life. A silken voice moaned praise somewhere nearby, a wet tongue dancing over your chest between words. Losing control never felt so good.

Beneath your spasming body, V’s hips twitched. He sucked in a breath but the pulsing of his cock against your soaked core didn’t ease, his moans changing to a tone you weren’t familiar with. Lower and louder, more breathy in the grip of his orgasm, resonant and musical. You flexed around him, tightening as much as you could manage to feel every throb.

When at last he fell still, it took all your willpower to dismount and check his bandage for fresh blood. You’d rather have curled up at his side and revelled in the afterglow, but that would have to wait. This wasn’t a feel-good made for TV movie where the realities were tossed aside in the wake of a long-awaited union; life didn’t stop just because two people wanted it to.

If only it were that easy.

Thankfully, you didn’t find any cause for concern. A slight dribble, but already clotting. You made sure the wrapping was still tight and laid back, content for now as his slim arms wrapped around you.

His fingers stroked your hair, lazily pulling apart any tangles he found in the process. It was so peaceful, so normal to just lie there and forget the world, but you didn’t let yourself enjoy it for long. Reality wasn’t going anywhere.

“So, now what?” you asked. “We can’t stay in one place too long.”

V sighed, his fingers stilling. “Especially here; they’ll connect it to me far too easily.”

You rose on one arm, giving him a quizzical look. “Why?”

The artist closed his eyes. His jaw flexed and for a moment you feared you’d gone too far, pried too deeply without thinking, but you didn’t dare try to backpedal.

“This… this is Nero’s room,” he responded at last.

Oh. Oh, no…

There were no words to ease the tension his words brought. You knew full well the efforts he took in order to conceal his past, and here you were, invading it.

Minutes passed in utter silence. An apology lingered on your lips, but without knowing the full story it felt insincere. Not long ago, you would have spoken the words without thought, but now… Now you wanted to only say things you meant.

At last, V broke the stillness.

“We need to move. I’ll…” he paused, as if the words pained him. “I’ll need your help.”

“You have it,” you replied. No hesitation, no weighing of the pros and cons. If he needed you, you would be there.

“There’s only one way to guarantee we won’t be disturbed.”

You sighed, heart heavy but unwavering. “I know.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “There’s no going back after this.”

You almost laughed. “There’s already no going back.”

He hummed, satisfied. Yes, you knew exactly what he meant. The only way to make sure you found an unoccupied home…

Was to slay the homeowner.

~~~Nico~~~

Nico gritted her teeth as the flash of a camera blinded her yet again. She hated reporters. They just wanted sensationalist headlines, not actual facts and definitely not to calm the public.

If folks stayed calm, they wouldn’t sell papers.

Damned vultures.

“As I said, this is an ongoing investigation so there’s only so much I can say,” she repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “Next question.”

The clamoring turkeys all started shouting, arms lifted almost as an afterthought. She wanted to scream at them. “Yeah, you, in the front.”

A brown haired man smiled at her, his comrades falling still for a merciful moment. “Jim Kovelli, Red Grave Daily. How can citizens stay safe until you make an arrest?”

Finally, something she could actually answer. “Thanks, Jim. We strongly recommend people travel in groups of at least two, preferably three as we have reason to believe the killer has an accomplice. All the victims so far were alone when they were… uh…”

Shit! I’m not supposed to mention the victims, or the methods he’s used. We don’t want a copycat.

She struggled to find words. If she tried to start over, the frenzy would only worsen. The vultures knew blood was in the water and they didn’t know the meaning of mercy. Her heart pounded, desperation seeping through her mind. Saying the wrong thing here might get somebody killed. Why the fuck did the chief want her to talk to the press?

I’m nobody! It shoulda been someone more experienced up here.

A heavy tread approached, Tony coming to her rescue yet again. Damnit, this was her first press conference, and she botched it. Even though she knew she wasn’t the best person for the job, she’d wanted to do it well, earn a little respect. How was she gonna look her partner in the eye after this?

“Folks, this isn’t rocket science. Stay in groups, don’t go off with people you don’t know, and report any strange behavior immediately. If you see something, do not intervene but call the hotline. The killer and his accomplice are likely armed and considered extremely dangerous. Don’t be a hero. Next question, please.”

Nico hung her head and stepped back, letting Tony take her place at the podium. Her heart sank, and she sighed. This case was just… it was tearing her apart. She barely ate, and she couldn’t remember the last time she slept through the night. Even showering seemed like a distraction.

“Magda Dunham, Buzzfeed News. What can you tell us about the accomplice?”

Nico glared at the crowd of reporters. Didn’t they realize their incessant questions took time away from the real police work? It’s not like she could review Waras’ file during this charade.

Yet Tony gave a kind, calming smile, seemingly unfazed. How the hell did he do that, keep his face from showing how fucked the situation was? A law-abiding citizen, with no goddamn criminal record and a pristine reputation, now believed to be aiding a psycho killer. It was insane.

“While we can’t release any names yet, we have reason to believe a female is assisting the killer. She is intelligent and well versed in psychology, and may try manipulation tactics or coercion to get someone alone. Again, do not travel alone and be wary of strangers. Last question, guys,” her mentor replied.

A swarm of voices answered him, and he pointed to a face in the back. “Penny Slope, The Weekly. Is the psychiatric hospital going to close, or are you content to let killers stay in the city?”

Tony barely twitched. If she’d gotten that question, Nico knew she would have snapped. The hospital wasn’t the issue here; the killer was!

“We are never content to allow killers to roam our streets, and we won’t rest until our city is safe. All I can say about the psychiatric hospital specifically is that they’re implementing additional security measures and we’re working closely with their staff to make sure our friends and neighbors are protected. I’m afraid that’s all the time we have, though. Thank you all for coming out.”

The horde shouted more questions even as Nico and Tony stepped away. Flashes left her blinking, blinded and ready to smack someone if they got too close, but her partner had her back. His warm hand guided her inside the station and back to the conference room.

“You okay, kid?”

Her vision flared red. She was not a kid. Inexperienced, yes. But a kid?

“No. You know what, hell no! Those piss ants are just lookin’ for a headline, they don’t give a shit that people are dying! There’s a damned murderer out there and all they want is someone to blame! It pisses me off. Not to mention we know who the killer is, but for some reason we still can’t say his name or identify the doctor! It’s fucking bullshit! People need to know who to look for, right now all they’re gonna do is panic anytime someone sticks out!”

She slammed her fist against the table and growled, “And I ain’t no kid.”

Tony tossed his hat on the table and ruffled his hair. His face finally showed something other than a mask of composure, falling into exhaustion as he sat down and sighed.

“I know. You’re right.”

Nico’s jaw dropped. “Wh- what?”

Tired blue eyes met confused brown. “I said, you’re right. It is bullshit. I don’t know why the chief is pussy footing around on this. All I can say is that if you wanna stay on the case, you gotta do as you're told. Especially in the public eye.”

Nico’s rage evaporated at the defeated tone of her mentor’s voice. She pulled out a chair and sat beside him. “But how do you keep it together? How do you stay so calm when they’re asking you such dumbass questions?”

Tony shrugged. “We protect everyone. Even the idiots.”

The young brunette took her glasses off and stared into the lenses. All she wanted was to catch this guy, why couldn’t it just be that straightforward? The press, the people, office politics, it was all just a waste of time.

Hell, maybe if people stopped distracting her she’d have caught the fucker by now.

A warm weight settled on her shoulder. She glanced up at Tony, disheartened and desperate for any answers he could offer. “Hang in there, Nico. You’re a great cop. You just need to get the hang of the crappy part of the job.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Eventually, Tony wandered off and left her to her thoughts. His words helped, but she still wanted to punch somebody. Preferably, the god damned doctor.

I don’t just wanna catch V now. I gotta get her, too.

She picked up her glasses and stood, mind focused once again. She couldn’t give up, no way. A little more work and they’d be hers to arrest, her need for justice satiated at last. Giving up wasn’t an option.

~~~~Waras~~~~

Blood rushed in your ears. Sweat prickled the back of your neck, hidden under the dark hood of your sweatshirt. Cheerful music played on the grocery store’s speakers. It jangled against your nerves as you surveyed the shoppers, searching for a target that fit the parameters you and V agreed to.

Someone alone, preferably small. Not buying enough food for more than themselves. The less attention they pay to their surroundings, the better.

It was all happening so fast, you’d barely had a chance to wrap your head around it. For so long, you’d tried to blend in, tried to hide your deficiencies. The walls you built to protect yourself weren’t meant to crumble, but to last an age. You’d gotten so used to it, you almost forgot normalcy was an act.

But V broke through, first with a whisper and now with a shout. His voice grew louder each day, beckoning you out of your disguise. He was pollen and you were a bee. Madness was no cage to him - it was freedom. Regret held no sway, doubt and hesitation banished from his mind.

The prison you built for yourself was yours to shatter, and choosing a target was just one step closer.

There weren’t many people who suited your needs. An older woman browsing cat food, an awkward teenage boy peeking at condoms, or a person with no obvious gender looking at cereal.

You bit your lip and tried to slow your racing heart. With V’s injury, making the choice fell to you, as did leading the target to an isolated area. The artist hadn’t asked you to make the killing blow, but the end result was the same.

I’m taking part in murder.

The thought held a curious excitement. No fear or disgust, as you knew it should, but a desire to know more. You wanted to understand what it meant to kill, go through every stage of the process and analyze it, piece by piece.

There’s so much I want to know.

You grabbed a box of macaroni and added it to your cart. Not only were you tailing potential victims, you were also getting a few essentials. It helped you blend in, and who knew what you’d find in your victims home? You had to make sure V ate, to get his strength back and heal.

A jar of pasta sauce joined the macaroni. There wasn’t anything else in the aisle you needed, so you left and followed the cat lady toward checkout. Her cart was barren, save for dozens of tins and a bag of kibble. Did she eat cat food, too?

She was the obvious choice. The teenager browsing condoms probably had a girlfriend who’d miss him, and he was too young to be a homeowner. The non-conforming third option left too much to chance. You didn’t have enough information to know if they fit your needs. The cat lady held the least risk.

Step one complete. On to step two.

How do I get her to follow me behind the store to where V’s waiting?

You didn’t have long to decide. She was about to pay, her car keys already in her palm.

Lips pursed, you handed a twenty to the cashier ringing you up and quickly took your bags. Your target was mere seconds ahead of you. No more time to think; it was now or never. You took a deep breath.

“Excuse me, miss?” you began. She was a bit old to be called miss, but most women took it as a compliment. It might help break the ice.

She turned to face you, peering through her bifocals. “Yes?”

Your stomach churned. If you messed this up, you’d have to start over somewhere else, forcing V to travel when every step brought agony. He claimed it wasn’t bad, but you knew better.

“Sorry to bother you, but um… do you think you could help me? My friend lives in the apartments back there,” you paused to point at the cluster of buildings behind the shop. “And he says his cat just went into labor. He’s scared to move her, but he thinks she needs a vet and neither of us have a car! Can you maybe drive us, please?”

You bit your lip and tried to look desperate even as endorphins flooded your circulatory system.

“Of course! I couldn’t let the poor thing suffer,” she paused, glancing to the side. “But… well, with everything that’s been going on, I’m not comfortable going inside. Will you two be able to bring her down?”

You allowed your expression to collapse into relief. “Yes, thank you! Let me show you where to bring the car, it’ll be faster this way.”

“What’s your name, dear? I’m Margaret.”

“Emily. It’s nice to meet you, Margaret,” you replied, pausing just long enough to shake her withered hand. One foot already in the grave.

The woman nodded and followed without protest as you led her behind the shop. The area wasn’t well lit and shadows painted a sinister backdrop over the cold cement. V’s hiding place was just ahead.

“It’s dark back here… maybe we should stay on the main roads, just to be safe?” the woman said. Damn, she was more vigilant than you first thought. You didn’t slow.

“It’s just around the corner, I promise!”

She frowned, but took another few steps to keep up. People instinctively keep moving if the person in front of them does. One more step, and she’d be in V’s range. Your breathing froze, head spinning as you turned around to see him in action at last, to watch the killer in his element.

He didn’t let you down.

Green eyes saw nothing but their target, utterly focused on the task at hand. Despite his injury, he moved with singular purpose. His mouth a thin line, the artist didn’t make a sound as he swung a scavenged length of pipe at the back of Margaret’s head. A sickly, wet crackle and a wheezing gasp barely preceded her collapse onto the pavement.

Whoa… Did he just kill her in one blow?

You stepped closer and pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. It was weak and thready, but she was still alive. You said as much to V and rose.

The artist smirked and adjusted his beanie. “Care to do the honors?”

A tattooed hand held out the bloody pipe, as if he were offering nothing more than a turn in a batting cage. Your legs turned to jelly and a flash mob of butterflies careened though your digestive tract. Goosebumps erupted across your spine and you struggled to swallow the golf ball in your throat. You hadn’t expected this, not yet.

“Hm, maybe not,” he said. “That’s fine, I’m happy to demonstrate. Watch closely.”

He limped to Margaret’s helpless body, humming as he crouched down to turn her head towards you. A thin line of blood trickled from her open lips. The briefest pang of guilt teased at you. She’d seemed like a nice person.

“It’s better when they’re awake, but this will do,” the artist murmured. He raised the pipe high.

I’m about to watch this woman die.

Time slowed to a crawl as V struck. His face contorted into a vicious snarl, rage and fury engraved in his features. He was raw and exposed, possibly the purest version of himself you’d yet seen. Animalistic and predatory, thrilled by his supremacy.

And yet…

In the moment the pipe crushed Margaret’s skull and sprayed hot blood across the pavement, there was something else. A sadness almost like grief. A brokenness hidden behind his wrath, as if he were killing a part of himself instead of an unlucky stranger.

And then it was over, the pipe clanging as the artist dropped it. The expression vanished, masked behind a smirk. You wondered if he was even aware of the change, if he felt the anger and the loss.

What the hell did I just see?

But this wasn’t the time to figure it out, as V’s pained gasp reminded you. He’d been upright for far too long, and after a swing like that his wound must be excruciating. You shoved aside your confusion and curiosity, forcing your mind to prioritize your current predicament. Philosophical explorations could wait.

V limped back to lean on a wall as you rifled through Margaret’s purse. Her wallet and keys were all you needed, and the second you had them, you went to the artist.

“The address on her license isn’t far. Come on.”

It wouldn’t be safe for long. As soon as the body was found, you’d have to move again. The best you could hope for was a couple of days, two or three if you were lucky. Enough time for the artist’s wound to start knitting back together and for you to process the last twenty-four hours.

It’s been a long day.

You hoped Margaret had a comfortable bed.

~~~Next Chapter~~~

#Be My Nightmare #my writing #fanfic #v x reader #v x oc #dmc #dmc v #vitale #tw: violence #tw: murder #spicy

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