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writingfics-passingtime · 3 years

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Road Rage

~3800 words of ler!Loki and ler!Thor tickle fluff

I wanted to write something a bit more lighthearted, and @just-another-blog-of-fluff ’s recent fic A Man of His Word made me crave some more Thor and Loki team-ups.

Perhaps @atlas-of-the-universe ’s next fic will also help alleviate some of this craving? 😉

CW: None. Completely SFW.

THUD.

“That was definitely a rabbit.”

“You think she's gonna swerve and kill us all for a rabbit?”

”She swerved for a pothole a mile back, she’ll swerve for a rabbit.”

“You really believe this thing hitting a tree can kill a god, I mean-“

”Can you all PLEASE STOP?!” You yelled from the drivers’ seat, attempting to quiet a carful of unnecessarily strong men who’d been getting on your last nerve for the last hour.

”You seem tense, can I drive?” Steve leaned forwards from his seat squished in the middle of the back seat. Squished between Thor and Loki, that is. It probably would have been a nice gesture for you to take that seat considering you'd fit into it much better that Steve, but it had been a long day. You were already on edge, frustrated from the mission, and you weren't in a giving mood.

“We take turns,” you explained in a tense but measure voice, even though he already knew. “Your turn is next, then it’s Bucky’s, then it’s mine, then you again-“

”Hold on, hold on,” Thor interrupted in his deep rumbling voice. “Why do I not get a turn?”

You shot him a sarcastic look in the rearview mirror. “We'll add you to the rotation after you complete driver's ed.”

“I can pilot a spacecraft quite well,” Thor countered, then turned to mutter at the window. “And I’ve never hit a rabbit.”

“Oh. My…“ You seethed as your knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “Hey,” you said calmly to everyone but Bucky - because the metal-armed man had been blissfully silent. “Let’s play the quiet game. My money’s on Bucky, AKA: the least annoying one of the carload.”

“Including you?” Bucky quipped. Traitor.

You grunted, “I take it back.” Then, you had a question for him. “Is this our fuel point?”

He shook his head and punched at the GPS. "Another twenty two miles."

You didn't realise twenty two miles could be so far.

You were sure, you were positive, that they were trying to bug you. The number of times Loki “accidentally” kicked your seat, or Thor commented on your driving vs his piloting, or Steve laughed at his jokes, or Bucky giving you side-eye whenever your knuckles gripped the wheel tighter. You could hardly wait to jump out of the car and remove the fuel canister from the lockbox, filling the jeep’s tank with every last drop.

However, when you opened the driver’s side door you saw Steve sitting in the seat.

“The hell?” You crossed your arms defiantly. He shrugged and grabbed the inside door handle.

“Engine went off. It’s a new ride, and my turn to drive.”

”STE-“

But he closed the door before you could protest. You stood there for a second, fuming, unspeakably frustrated there was a no-fly zone, so you wouldn’t be detected, keeping Thor and Loki firmly on the ground. You pulled open the door behind Steve’s and motioned for Loki to move over.

He raised an eyebrow at you and stepped out of the car, motioning for you to get inside, making it clear he would not be taking the middle seat. After a hard glare, you conceded that it was only fair for the smallest person to take that seat. So you climbed inside and buckled your seatbelt, settling in for the rest of the journey wedged between two large demigods.

After several more minutes, you found that Thor and Loki were slowly encroaching on your pace. Not in just an innocent way, based on the amused looks they were shooting each other. You grumbled and shoved Thor's knee with your own. He was trying to be a pain now, it was undeniable.

"I'm already in the smallest seat. You mind not manspreading into me?"

"Calm down, Agent," Loki snipped, but further antagonised you by knocking your knee with his as well.

"Is Loki really the voice of reason back there?" Steve raised an eyebrow at you from the drivers seat.

Loki then gently nudged you with his arm, but in a way that prompted you to look up at him. He raised his eyebrows a little, letting them furrow, asking you, wordlessly, if something was the matter.

"I'm overtired," you huffed. "And in desperate need of some personal space."

"We'll be back in twenty," Bucky said from the passengers seat. That made you groan, which made everyone groan, except for Thor. Thor chuckled, then knocked his knee against yours again.

"Brother," Loki looked over your head at Thor. "Does this not remind you of that time we visited Midgard around the turn of their 18th century?"

Thor gave Loki a curious look, then nodded hesitantly. "What, how we used to steal and race carriages?"

"Mmm, yes, but also those longer journeys."

"Those were awful," Thor scoffed, then nudged you a little. "You should be happy you can control the temperature of air in your vehicles now."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" You laughed humourlessly, sitting back and crossing your arms over your chest.

Loki chuckled, then looked at Thor again. "Reminds you a bit of Sif, does she not?"

Thor grinned. "There is the tenacity."

"Sif hated those carriage rides too," Loki looked down to you, but you kept your eyes trained on the road ahead and ignored him, seriously not in the mood to be cheered up by stories of mischief. Loki's eyes snapped up to meet the older Asgardian's. He narrowed them ever so slightly, mischief gleaming as he tilted his head ever so slightly towards your fuming form.

Thor finally caught on when he looked at Loki, copying his younger brother's sly grin. "That she did..." Thor agreed slowly, then also looked down to you. "Sif often got stuck between us."

"Send my condolences," you muttered. Bucky scoffed from the front, shaking his head and looking out the window for any potential threats.

Resting your head back against the seat and closing your eyes, trying to ignore the bumpiness of the road and how much you desperately wanted a hot shower. When Loki’s knee hit your again, you shoved back hard, still with your eyes closed and muttered some kind of insult under your breath.

"Sergeant, Captain," Loki called to the front-seaters. "Would you like us to deal with this grizzly little problem?"

You opened your eyes and scowled, but your heart pounded a little. Did they have one of those Asgardian muzzles? They wouldn't dare... You looked at Loki, who was waiting for an answer. Then you looked at Thor, who was looking at Loki. …Maybe they would dare.

Bucky turned and looked at Loki skeptically, then looked at Thor and saw something in his face that made him shrug and agree. "Be my guest."

"Excellent," Loki sighed, then turned to direct his next words to Steve. "Captain, keep a grip on that wheel. I’m terribly sorry for the noise."

Before you could think to imagine what they were going to do, the brothers shot their hands out and each latched onto a leg, squeezing harshly and wildly. You let out a loud surprised scream that caused Steve to flinch but not swerve, and immediately fell into frantic laughter.

"WA-W-WAHAIT!" You pushed at their hands to no avail, kicking your feet against the seats in front of them and throwing your back against the seat as twenty fingers mercilessly squeezed at the horribly sensitive muscle above your knees. "NO!" You squeaked as Thor picked up his pace. Loki, noticing, couldn't let Thor do a better job than him, so he also picked up his pace.

"That's a much better sound," Steve taunted, stealing a glance at your laughter-stained features through the rear-view.

"STOHOP!" You squeaked and they relented, looking at you and then each other.

"Get her hands," Thor nodded.

You gasped. "NO!"

"You get her hands," Loki scoffed. "I'm better at this."

"My hands are bigger," Thor argued.

"I'm the God of Mischief and this is mischief."

Using their bickering as a chance to map an escape route, you planned to quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and fling yourself over the seat into the trunk. Yeah, that should work, it-

"AHH!" You squeaked again when Loki squeezed at your knee with one hand and your hip with another. You pushed at his hands and Loki gave Thor a sarcastic look, like just hold her hands already. You kept pushing at Loki's fingers, giggling desperately before protesting loudly at Thor's grab for your wrists. "N-n-n-no, NO! THOR!" You grunted and struggled as Thor caught one of your wrists in each hand. He pulled them towards his side of the car, forcing you to bend awkwardly sideways and a little forwards.

“Are you less grizzly now, little one?” Thor teased down as he held steadfast to the wrists you were attempting to twist from his grasp.

You squealed and kicked your leg out against Steve’s seat when Loki found a particularly ticklish pressure point next to your hip. You cackled and shook your head in vain as he exploited it to his heart's delight. When he reached his hand around and searched for the same spot on the other side you thought you might scream again.

"Remove her armour," Thor suggested. Loki paused his torture to reach down to undo the velcro from your bulletproof vest.

"NO!"

"No."

That second no came from Steve. Thank the gods for the Star Spangled Man. "We're still in active combat until we arrive back to base," Steve said firmly. "Her vest stays on."

"Ohthankgoodness," you breathed out a sigh of relief. Loki smirked and re-stuck the patch he'd already removed.

"No matter," he winked at you. "Another time."

You growled at him and tugged on your wrists in Thor's hold, prompting him to assess the situation.

"Guhuys," you whined. "I'm sorry. I'll stop complaining, just dohon't tickle me."

”Aw,“ Thor fake pouted before a grin pulled at one side of his mouth. “But you’re finally laughing. This must be getting you into a better mood.” Thor moved both of your wrists to one of his hands before sticking his wiggling fingers under one of your arms.

"NooOHO THOR!" You squeaked and immediately started squirming and emitting high-pitched giggles. "B-Bucky, HEHELP!" You whimpered, then jolted again when Loki's fingers started kneading at the spot on your side where your vest began. "BUCKY!" You thrashed as both brothers picked up their pace, chuckling down at your helpless writhing form partially draped over Thor's lap. "BUCKYHY!" You screamed once more.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he deadpanned from the passenger seat. "I thought we were playing the quiet game."

"SCREHEW YOUHOU!" You growled, giggles now becoming laughter.

"Still so volatile," Loki teased, then looked up at his smirking brother. "Brother, perhaps we're not trying hard enough to cheer up our grouchy little agent."

"Perhaps not, Loki."

Thor took both of your wrists again in his hands and used them to twist your fighting body to be facing more upwards. At the same time, Loki gripped your hips, digging his thumbs in once to see you jolt, grappling with your struggling and the seatbelt to twist you in your seat. You kicked your legs at him but he pulled his own to his chest before swooping them down to trap yours underneath. As hard as you fought, you were now on your back with your feet trapped between Loki's shins and underside of the seat, arms pulled above where your head and shoulders rest on Thor's lap.

"Guhuys," you whimpered, now a little nervous. "Please, d-don't," you pleaded, letting your bottom lip tremble ever so slightly.

"How much further, Sergeant?" Loki smirked, looking at your fear with his hands still on your hips.

"Fifteen minutes," Bucky replied. Damn him, you could hear the amusement in his voice.

Loki leered down with a devilish grin. "Let's see if we can cheer you up before then, hmm? If not, we may need to take this vest off the second we pull in."

"N-no!" You pulled on your arms. Fifteen minutes? There's no way... No. Steve and Bucky wouldn't let that happen. "No. You can't," you grimaced as Loki's fingers rested on the couple inches of fabric between your pants and your vest.

Loki's smirk became a grin, dripping with triumph. "Who's going to stop us?"

Damn him, he was right; Steve and Bucky certainly wouldn’t stop this. Not only because you’d been a grouchy pain, but also because they were probably relieved the brothers were getting along, working as a team, even if it was for nefarious purposes.

His fingers ghosted over your shirt around the soft skin on your lower belly and it tickled so bad. You tried to keep it in, screwing your face up and closing your eyes as you pressed your head harder into Thor's leg. He added only the slightest bit more pressure, but increased his speed. Once he finally got a squeak from your lips, he settled his speedy fingers at the patches of skin just above your hips. You spluttered and then loud desperate giggles broke through.

"Hmm, most effective," Thor commented, moving both your wrists to one hand as before. Your eyes shot open to silently plead with him, but his fingers were already down the inside of the armhole on one side of your vest, poking at any ribs he could reach.

"OHOMYG-" You shook violently once before the soft sensation from Loki's fingers brought giggles from your lips once more. He hadn't moved his damn hands and it was driving you mad.

"Well that wasn't from me," Loki scoffed and finally retracted his hands, watching as Thor pressed into that same rib again. You jolted again and shrieked a small laugh, twisting violently away from the touch. Thor and Loki both laughed and then looked at each other.

"Perhaps it's best to wait," Thor suggested. "It seems our feisty little friend's most sensitive areas are concealed."

"Perhaps..." Loki pondered, then nodded. "Very well, once we're back."

"W-what?" You lifted your head as Loki moved his shins to release yours. Thor let your wrists go and you immediately sat up, head whipping back and forth as you twisted to sit straight in your seat, still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for them to continue. "You're kidding..."

"No, we'll wait," Thor looked down to you with a smile. A smile too mischievous for who was supposed to be the hero brother. You looked to Loki, who had his eyes trained ahead and a smarmy wide smile on his lips.

"No!" You said indignantly. "Just get it over with!" You shoved at both their legs, now wishing you hadn't internally complained about fifteen minutes when you'd be protected by your vest the whole time. You also wished you hadn't complained at all out loud once on this journey.

They simply both laughed, a little snarky, and Thor patted your leg condescendingly. You winced and put your head in your hands to stop them all from seeing how flustered you were, and how hot it was making your face. Leaning forwards to rest your elbows on your knees, you sat like that for a good long while. Almost long enough to make Thor reconsider, almost long enough to make Loki burst into laughter.

"This gate here."

Bucky's direction to Steve to turn into the long driveway made your heart race. You suppressed a squeak and the urge to look up, not wanting to see how far you were from your doom.

Even though your fingers covered your closed eyes, it was noticeable when the car entered the large garage. The car stopped and everyone unbuckled their seatbelts, so you finally removed your hands and did the same, not once daring to look up at anyone. A few chuckles from the front seat told you you'd not be receiving any help from the super soldiers you'd growled at. They made a few taunting comments about how quiet the rest of the car ride had been.

They exited the car, and you prepared to do the same and maybe have a brief chance at running before you got pinned to the floor and tickled to death. But Thor and Loki didn't open their doors. They simply looked straight ahead as Steve and Bucky picked up their bags, then shut the front doors after themselves.

You sat in silence between the Asgardians for several long seconds, wondering if it was better to try and escape forwards or backwards. Some part of you knew the second you flinched that they'd be on you, which is probably why you stayed still for so long.

Nearing ten seconds of tense silence, Loki finally turned and ripped a velcro tab open on your vest.

You bit your tongue but didn't react.

Thor follow suit.

You, still, didn't react, rooted to your spot trying to frantically come up with a plan.

Maybe a swift fist to the nether-regions would buy you enough time. For what, though? To rile them up even further?

You swallowed hard and grimaced as Loki slowly, agonisingly, tauntingly ripped another tab open. There were only three on each side, then one on each shoulder. After Thor followed suit, preferring to rip them open quickly, you were halfway to your demise.

"Not fighting back?" Loki chuckled deviously. "Wise."

You didn't react one bit, just too resigned from knowing how deathly ticklish your ribs were. You couldn’t recall a time you’d been tickled for more than a couple of seconds, maybe ten at most? The mere idea of being trapped by two impossible-to-escape demigods with alien strength was very flustering to say the least.

The shoulder tabs being ripped off either side brought you out from your thoughts and right back into the present where the brothers were removing your bulletproof vest and throwing the pieces to the ground.

You three sat again in silence for a few seconds. The second Thor closed his grip around one of your wrists, you started to fight. Hard. Bending your knees and pressing your feet into the edge of the seat, you flung yourself forward and twisted your arm to break free of his grasp, trying to catapult yourself between the two front seats. You did actually manage to break free, but Loki had leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could make a true break for it.

"There she is," he growled a laugh at seeing his fiery teammate return. He pulled you back onto his lap and brought his hands higher to rest on your ribs as you tried to pry them off.

"No fair," Thor fake pouted. "You get all the fun?"

"Perhaps I’ll give you a turn, brother," Loki chuckled right next to your ear. You scowled and kicked at Thor as hard as you could, knowing he could take it, but trying to communicate that you weren't going down without a fight.

He grabbed your ankles and raised an eyebrow at you. "Making suggestions, little one?" Thor's laughter boomed as he lifted the leg furthest from you and trapped your ankles between his thighs. Your eyes widened and you struggled a little harder when you felt his fingers tap on the bottom of your boot, declaring his intent to attack.

"Any last words, darling?" Loki's whisper made you shiver, but you wouldn't dignify them with a response. Hell no, they wouldn't get the privilege of hearing you beg one more time. So instead of answering, you pushed at his hands once more. He scoffed, "Alright," then lightly scratched all ten fingers at the sides and front of your lower ribs.

"PPFFTMMM!" You gave a squealing whine as you tried to keep your mouth shut, eyes shutting as your back arched against Loki's touch.

"Oho, I'm barely touching you," Loki leered down, but you couldn't see him with your head resting on his chest just below his shoulder. "Is it really that bad, or are you being a bit dramatic, dear?"

A suddenly single dig with all ten fingers pulled a small scream from your lips. Your whole body flinched hard as the men laughed at you. You pulled at your ankles as you felt Thor working your boots off, then started giggling frantically as Loki added a bit more pressure to his touch. Your hands pushed at his to no avail as he moved his fingers higher, unfazed by your writhing in his arms. Thor got one boot off and tested the waters by dusting his fingers against the sole of your foot. A small squeak came out, and your laughter got a bit louder as Loki added even more pressure. The tug on your leg told them that your noise wasn't just because of Loki.

Loki paused as Thor continued, and your laughter became breathy giggles. The sensation on your foot wasn't yet too bad.

"Brother, I won't know if I've found that wretched spot if I can't tell what's making her squirm," Loki sighed. Thor gave him a look and held his hands up in surrender. You breathed in relief. Short-lived relief when Loki's fingers dug in harder than before in search of the spot from earlier.

His fingers vibrated harshly against your ribcage, sending you into loud squealing laughter and a violent search for freedom. Then, suddenly, unfortunately, his mirror-imaged fingers found that particular spot high up your ribs. It was just below your armpit, but deceptively far back.

Your eyes shot open and you screeched when Loki's fingers dug in, your back arched against him and you twisted as hard as you could, beating your fists down onto his sides beneath you as screaming laughter erupted in the wake of your screech.

Both of their jaws went slack at your reaction, taken aback at how sensitive a mere few seconds of harsh poking could be. Loki had paused his movement, but your struggles told them it was bad enough to have residual impacts.

Loki looked at Thor and muttered, "I almost feel bad, brother..."

You breathed heavily and collapsed limply into Loki, closing your eyes once again before struggling against his hold. You, still, refused to speak.

"No matter," Loki piped up again, his moment of guilt completely gone. "You may continue, now that I’ve found it." His fingers sprang into action digging into that wretched spot, pinching and prodding deep into the back of the rib as you thrashed in his hold and laughed louder than you could ever remember laughing in your life. You tried in vain to wriggle away as he picked up his pace, chuckling amusedly in your ear as your laughter turned to desperate squeals.

Thor’s fingers lightly scratched at your soles as Loki continued digging in harshly and the combination of the touches drove you absolute hysterics; there was too much to focus on and no way to think about blocking any of it out.

Soon your squeals turned silent too as tears of mirth spilled down your cheeks and you lost all the strength to really fight back, weakly batting at Loki’s arms.

“M-mersss-mercy,” you gasped out, coughing as more silent squeals tried to make themselves known. Thor relented with a boisterous laugh at your reactions, pulling your ankles from his hold and letting them fall to the car floor. Loki also stopped, but didn’t let you go. You gasped for air, residual giggles bubbling from your lips as you half-heartedly tried to escape him. Thor grinned and leaned forward, pinching your rosy cheeks.

“There’s that smile,“ he winked. Loki tilted his head to see it and then released his arms from around you. You took in more air, but didn’t make a move to move yourself from him. You were thoroughly exhausted. Thor laughed again and looked at his younger brother, “Perhaps a bit much for a mortal, Loki.”

“I’m f-fine,” you whispered, still trying to fully fill your lungs. “Tohotally good,” you hiccoughed, giving a weak thumbs up. No way in hell would you utter one more complaint.

Loki squeezed your shoulders affectionately and you all exited the car. When your feet touched down you stumbled a bit, knees still weak from the attack, your faltering stance sending you barrelling into Loki. He made a noise of surprise and managed to stabilise you so you wouldn’t fall, then looked over at Thor as you blushed and stood to your feet. They both laughed heartily, which made you smile and roll your eyes.

It was nice to see them getting along, even it if was at your expense.

#Loki x reader #thor x reader #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!thor #ler!loki #marvel x reader #marvel tickle fluff #loki tickle #loki fluff

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borathae · 3 years

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↳ Index [Chapter 04 - Stuck in Paradise]

Genre: angsty Fluff

Warnings: thunderstorms, fighting, jealousy, misunderstandings, but also feels and finding to each other, also opening up to each other and trying to understand the other :(

Wordcount: 11.4k

a/n: I love this chapter so much omfg

“Would you mind walking a little faster?” you call over your shoulder.

Taehyung raises his head, blinking at you in bafflement. He had been gawking at his phone before that, playing Candy Crush. He locks his phone and stores it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

“Excuse me?” he says, speeding up, “I’m not the one who insisted on getting smoothies before take-off”, he says, having reached your side.

The two of you are hurrying through the halls of the airport, each carrying a big smoothie and trying your hardest not to bump into people. You were running terribly late. Mister Choi had called you three times already, informing you that your plane must take off soon or else you would have to wait three hours for a free spot in the schedule of the airport.

You know that it was your fault that you were late. Taehyung said so already. You insisted on getting smoothies before take-off and the people, who prepared them, moved in the literal speed of a snail.

“In my defence. Who the hell cuts up bananas? You can easily rip them apart”, you say, swerving past a couple.

You bump shoulders with Taehyung on accident. He stumbles, finding support on your arm at the last moment. His grip is tight, of course it is, he needed it to stop himself from falling.

“Geez, you’re a terrible runner”, he grumbles.

“I am wearing heels!” you defend yourself, pulling Taehyung with you so he wouldn’t bump into an elderly woman, “considering that I am, I would say that my running is amazing.”

“Fine, that’s impressive”, he says, pulling you to the side with him so you wouldn’t bump into a little boy, “you know what? That’s stupid”, he adds and reaches for your hand.

You almost stumbled over your feet as your eyes landed on your interlocked fingers.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

“All that pushing and pulling annoys me. We’re quicker this way”, he explains, “come now, I can already see the gate.”

Mister Choi is angry. You know that he is, judging by the deep creases on his forehead. And yet he forces a bright smile to his face and bows at you deeply.

“There you finally are. I hope you had a lovely time in the airport”, he greets you with feigned friendliness in his voice. Poor man, he so obviously wants to snarl at you, but can’t.

“Blame my wife. She was the one who wanted to get smoothies”, Taehyung says, panting as he is trying to catch his breath.

Your staff is currently taking your bags, hurrying down the corridor with them quickly.

“Ah smoothies and I see you got a cup each”, Mister Chois smile grows, “I hope they were delicious”, he says, eyes widened comically. This is just to stop them from lowering in anger.

Your cheeks are literally burning. Not only from running but from getting roasted passive aggressively by Mister Choi.

“I must apologize, Mister Choi”, you murmur.

“Worry not, ma’am. We still have ten minutes in our schedule”, he says through his smile, which shows off his teeth.

You cringe, eyes flitting to the ground.

“Come now, let us leave”, Mister Choi says and leads the way down the corridor.

You and Taehyung hurry after him side by side. You nudge Taehyung’s arm.

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, traitor”, you hiss.

He sends you a glare from the corners of his eyes, sipping on his banana smoothie.

“I won’t take the blame here. It’s your fault.”

“You were the one who walked like a sloth so he could play Candy Crush”, you throw back, nudging his arm again.

He nudges your arm back, just as hard as you did his’.

“I had to beat the level. Do you even know how difficult walking and playing at the same time is?”

“You know it’s a little weird that you are so obsessed with a game middle-aged moms like to play.”

Taehyung gasps dramatically, eyes growing big.

“Excuse me? Am I not allowed to enjoy Candy Crush? And leave the middle-aged moms alone. They have it figured out. Do you even know how much fun that game is?”

“No and I don’t want to find out.”

Taehyung scoffs, “then you have no say in this discussion. Thank you and goodbye.”

He stomps off, soon disappearing inside the plane.

“You know thinking about it, you were the one who ordered the banana smoothie!” you call after him, but he ignores you.

You click your tongue and shake your head in disbelief. He is so childish sometimes.

Taehyung is already in his seat, playing Candy Crush, when you enter the plane and walk to your seat. He gives you one look, just one and then he looks back into his phone, shaking his head in distaste.

“So childish”, you mumble, sipping on your mango smoothie loudly.

Taehyung answers by slurping even louder than you, dark eyes glued to his phone. It makes you roll your eyes and turn a cold shoulder to him.

Mister Choi makes himself comfortable in the cockpit, soon announcing that the flight will now begin.

The next time you and Taehyung exchange some words is when Mister Choi had dropped you off in front of the resort you were supposed to stay at, driving off afterwards. You didn’t have much time to converse, not only because you didn’t really want to, but also because you both had terribly much work to do. Your laptops were close to overheating once the plane finally landed, your wrists ached from all the typing you had to do. So naturally you didn’t find neither the time nor the energy to converse. You didn’t mind and neither did Taehyung.

“So that’s where we are going to stay?” you say, reading the resort’s name, which was written on a black stone in golden letters.

“Seems like it”, he answers you, before he struts off.

“Mister Kim, wait for me!” you exclaim and jog after him.

The resort was beautiful with impressive gardens and private bungalows. The one, you and Taehyung would be staying at, was located at the far end of the resort, close to the beach and far away from prying eyes. From what the hotelier told you, it was their most luxurious apartment, the most expensive one too. But he didn’t tell you the second part, his sly grin was implication enough for you.

“There you go. I hope you have a wonderful stay in our resort”, he told you and handed you both your key cards. He scurried off afterwards.

You and Taehyung exchange a look. A wonderful stay. You will see about that.

Taehyung unlocks the door and turns to you, “I hope that you don’t expect me to carry you over the threshold”, he says with a deadpan expression, making you chuckle.

He needs to stop being so funny. You are tired of laughing at his stupid jokes.

“No worries, I'm fine”, you murmur, feeling only slightly embarrassed for laughing.

You hurry inside past him. He follows you, closing the door behind him. The two of you wander through the quiet hallway side by side, dragging your suitcases behind you. They barely make any sound on the black marble floor.

“They weren’t lying when they said that it's luxurious. It's prettier than our place”, you mumble, drinking everything in.

“Yeah, for sure”, Taehyung agrees.

The short hallway comes to an end, revealing the rest of the spacious bungalow.

“Do you think that we’ll have separate beds?” Taehyung asks.

One turn to your right and he has his answer. Both your eyes land on the queen sized bed in the middle of the spacious room. Dozens and dozens of rose petals are forming a big heart on the sheets. Of course you won’t have separate beds.

You and Taehyung exchange a look.

“We could have figured, couldn’t we?” you say, having to sigh afterwards.

“I guess, yeah”, he says, abandoning his suitcase and walking down the two stairs which lead to the rest of the bungalow.

He walks a little through the bedroom, looking at everything. You do the same. It was a nice bedroom. Spacious and cozy. Also most definitely romantic with its black bed frame, ivory silk sheets and dim lighting. The wall facing the beach was entirely made out of windows, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Taehyung was opening them currently, letting in the smell of the ocean. You sit down on the chaise lounge, which was waiting to be used, testing the softness of it. You can see yourself working on your papers on it.

Left of the bed and behind a wall of white curtains, the bathroom was located. It was ridiculous. Open air rain shower hidden behind one single wall of glass, dark marble tiles and floors, a hot tub, which was looking out on a wall of bamboo and exotic flowers, it even had its own bathroom snack basket. You and Taehyung stole one little piece of chocolate each, both nibbling on it quietly whilst trying not to look the other in the eyes.

The kitchen was at the south end of the apartment, hidden behind yet another wall of curtains. You had a breakfast bar and some chairs to go with it, a coffee machine and a big refrigerator, which presented itself to be filled with alcohol when you opened it.

Taehyung enters the kitchen after you, opening the last window.

“I have a proposal for you”, he says.

“What proposal?” you ask, turning around. You lean against the counter with your hands resting on your hips.

“It’s no secret that we both don’t want to be here.”

“Of course not.”

“But, and now don’t judge me for it, I do want to enjoy my time here. I mean just look at that view”, he says, pointing at the turquoise ocean behind him, “so how about we do not bother each other when we have to work?”

“Sounds doable, sure let’s do that”, you agree.

“And also, given how we already have to sleep in the same bed, how about we make breakfast, lunch and dinner our official private times?”

“So you want to eat at different times?” you cock an eyebrow up at him.

“Or at separate tables. Just-”, he sighs, “-I do not want to fight with you, now that we can’t even escape from the aftermath. So we should minimise the time we have to spend together as much as possible so we can’t even start fighting.”

“Okay, you have a point”, you say, nodding your head in agreement, “fine, let’s make food time our official private times.”

Taehyung steps closer, offering you his hand to shake, “deal.”

You accept it and shake it twice, “deal.”

Taehyung takes a step back afterwards, averting his gaze outside.

“I think I’ll take a quick look at the beach now”, he says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh that sounds like a good idea”, you say, following him outside.

Taehyung turns around, studying you from head to toe.

“What are you doing?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

“Taking a quick look at the beach”, you explain, ridding yourself of your shoes.

Taehyung watches you.

“Why are you following me?”

You straighten up.

“I’m not. It just so happens that we have to take the same path to it”, you tell him with a little shrug of your shoulders, “now if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t felt sand under my toes in years”, you add, making your way down the short stone path to the beach.

The sand is warm under your feet, almost bordering hot. You hiss and huff out air, quickly running to the water.

“That’s better”, you sigh, enjoying the cold water.

“Ah crap!” you hear Taehyung exclaim.

You watch him do the same exact thing you did. A moment later he is by your side, cooling off his burning feet in the water.

“Why the fuck is the sand so hot?” he hisses, looking down at his feet, “that hurt.”

“Yeah? Right”, you agree, “at least the water is nice. I can see myself enjoying a nice morning swim every day”, you say, turning so you would face the ocean.

“I want to take one too, that's a pity. What if you see me in swimming trunks?” he mumbles, clearly being sarcastic.

You roll your eyes. You like his sarcasm, it can be entertaining at times (even if that fact annoys you). But sometimes it's just way too much.

“Well then thank god for our agreement”, you coo sarcastically, “like this the other can swim while the other is busy eating breakfast and I won’t have to see you in swimming trunks.”

Taehyung sneaks a glance your way.

“You’re welcome”, he grumbles, turning his back to you afterwards, “I’m going this way, you can take the other direction”, he adds before he stomps off almost childishly grumpy.

You watch him for a moment, grinding your teeth as you do. Hundred meters down the beach and he stops to roll his slacks up to his knees. You roll your eyes at his logic, as if his pants weren’t already soaked.

“Whatever, I don’t care”, you decide, turning around to walk north.

The plants on this island are impressive. You didn’t even know that monstera could get so big. You own one in a little pot. It is the only houseplant you manage to keep alive. It is funny, you think as you stare at the big monstera in front of you, you didn’t even know that they could survive in the wild.

You continue your walk down the beach. The sand is more comfortable to walk on. Sky high palm trees cast long shadows on the beach, which shield most of the sunlight from you. You change from the wet sand to the dry one. It sticks to your wet feet in an instant.

What Jungkook is doing right now?

You slip your hand into the pocket of your slacks and touch your phone. You could call him.

“Hello?” his voice is croaky when he finally picks up.

“Kook, hey! How are you?” you greet him, instantly feeling better now that you can hear his voice.

“Sleeping”, he grumbles.

“Oh my god”, you gasp, “holy shit, I totally forgot. I am so sorry, Kook.”

He laughs tiredly.

“It’s fine, my alarm would have woken me in ten anyways”, he yawns loudly, “how are you? How was the flight?”

“It was alright. I worked for the entirety of it.”

“Did the jerk annoy you?”

“Who?”

“Your husband.”

“Ew, true he exists too”, you fake gag.

Jungkook chuckles, voice raspy from sleep, “that bad?”

“It's been manageable for now. Let's see if I will have changed my mind tomorrow.”

“So you had fun?”

“Kook, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“Yeah? As if I ever made a secret out of it”, he says and laughs breathlessly. You just know that he has his right brow all cocked up in disbelief.

“You're adorable”, you giggle, “don't worry though, I didn’t have fun. He just didn’t annoy me yet.”

“Good, that's what I like to hear. Don’t have fun with that jerk, noona or else I'll be sad.”

You chuckle.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Nice”, he yawns loudly, smacking his lips afterwards, “how’s the island?”

You look around for a moment.

“It’s alright I guess”, you shrug your shoulders, “I rather be at home if I’m being honest.”

“Me too. You could ride my dick and I could pound that pussy from behind”, he yawns again, louder than before. It is starting to annoy you. He has this habit of yawning obnoxiously loud, it always annoyed you, “doesn’t that sound so much better than being on an island?”

“Yeah definitely", you agree with a fond grin, "what are your plans for today?”

“Work. Nothing much other than work to be honest”, he says and yawns again.

“Oh my god Kook, stop yawning”, you hiss.

Jungkook cackles.

“It’s what you get for waking me.”

“Tzt”, you click your tongue, “you’re such a brat.”

He cackles again, “I know, that’s what you like about me. Don’t you, noona?”

You roll your eyes, grinning.

“Keep dreaming.”

He chuckles and yawns, doing so significantly less loud than before. You can hear him roll over in bed and pull the blanket up his body.

“I don’t want to work today. I just want to stay in bed and talk to you. Ugh, why do I have to be an adult?” he whines.

You sit down on a log. You had just found it, it is placed under a palm tree. The sun shines on your back and warms you to the point of making you sweat.

“I feel you on that one.”

Jungkook shifts again, most likely sitting up and resting against the headboard.

“But we still have five minutes before I have to leave.”

“I’m glad we do”, you say, smiling.

Silence for a few seconds. It is enough time for you to come to the conclusion that seagulls scream very loudly when they are directly above your head.

“What are you wearing, noona?” Jungkook finally says, voice husky.

You laugh.

“Are you seriously asking me this when you know that I’m on a beach?”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were on a beach”, he defends himself, making you chuckle.

“Doofus”, you say fondly.

Jungkook hums. Your heart feels all giddy.

“Sooo what are you wearing?” he tries again.

“Jungkook, come on”, you snort, breaking into belly aching laughter.

Jungkook chuckles.

“It was worth a try.”

“You’re such a horny brat”, you say with a fond chuckle.

“I know and I am not ashamed of it”, he most definitely smirks, “fuck noona, I’m literally so sad, my phone just started vibrating. You know what that means.”

“Mhm yeah”, your smile falls, “I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Urgh I know. Can’t you please keep me from it a little longer?” he whines.

“How should I do that?”

“Don't know. Maybe tell me something sexy and maaaybe listen to me touch my dick?”

“Aah I see”, you snort. So he is still in horny mode. “I would love to, but work’s important. You shouldn’t slack on it.”

“Urgh, fine”, he groans, “why do you have to be so responsible?”

“At least one of us has to.”

A short silence when Jungkook turns off his alarm.

“Alright then noona, I gotta go. Will you call me again?”

“Sure, I’ll try to call you again”, you promise him, “but you know the drill. Do not call me.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. You told me like a million times, I won’t call. But you have to promise me to call me.”

“I'll try, alright?”

“Promise me.”

“Kook, work.”

“Fine, oh my god”, he groans, “you're such a workaholic.”

You laugh.

“I'll call you. Promise”, you whisper.

“Yay, thank you noona! I’m so happy right now!”

“I'm happy you are.”

A short pause. You can hear Jungkook roll out of bed and a second later his naked feet pad over the floor.

“Fuck I need to piss so badly”, he mumbles, making you chuckle.

“Well, then I don’t want to keep you any longer”, you say, “talk to you soon.”

“Sure, love ‘ya noona”, he coos.

“Mhm, me too”, you answer him, hanging up afterwards.

“You’re back already?” you ask, passing by Taehyung on your way inside. He follows you with his eyes, getting up from the chair he had previously sat in.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks coldly.

“I don't know what you're on about.”

“I watched you. You were laughing a lot, weren’t you?”

You sneak a glance at him over your shoulder. He watched you? This is not at all weird. And what's with that weird frown he is wearing?

“Why should I tell you?” you throw back.

“Because I asked you nicely."

You scoff.

“Yeah no, that doesn’t give you a right to know.”

You begin unpacking. If you need to stay at this cursed place for two weeks, then at least you want to be comfortable. You make your way to the bathroom, packed with your toiletry bags. Taehyung follows you.

“Was it the hook-up?”

“It’s been two months. How are you still on about that damn hickey?” you grumble, hoping that he won’t see your flustered expression.

It is impressive how accurate his questions are. He really has a skill of looking right through you. At least you decided to be more careful from now on. No more risky quickies with Jungkook, no more secret meet-ups or fumbling at family dinners. Ever since three weeks, you agreed on solely reducing your time together to phone calls and sexting. It was quite lonely and frustrating. But at least like that, Jungkook couldn’t leave a hickey on you by accident. And besides, Jungkook was quite the natural as far as phone sex was concerned. That man could get you off, oh boy oh boy.

“Yes, I am still on about that”, Taehyung pulls you back to reality.

You raise your head, locking eyes with him in the mirror. He has his arms crossed in front of his chest. This is so embarrassing, Taehyung must be wondering why you keep fumbling with your collar.

“Okay listen here”, you straighten up, “it was you who told me to go the other way, it was you who brought up the private time rule and it was you who didn’t speak a word to me on the plane, so do not try to control me right now when you so clearly don’t want to spend time with me.”

He rolls his eyes and licks over his lips.

“Yes, I talked to someone on the phone, but it is between me and the person I called”, you say.

“Oh? So you called him?” he scoffs, “how can someone be so mean? Is it really that easy for you to cheat?” he spits.

Your eyes widen.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. How little respect do you have for me to cheat on me with no remorse? Aren’t you ashamed?”

Fuck.

You swallow heavily.

In a way he was right. No, it wasn’t just in a way. He was right with everything. You are mean. You are cheating on him and you do so with no remorse and you are having fun whilst doing so. You are so crooked. He had every right to be mad at you right now. But you do not want to admit this to him or to yourself.

“I called Jiwoo”, and so you lie, “I called her to tell her that we landed safely and then we chatted about her baby preparations. So stop being so goddamn paranoid”, you spit.

Taehyung closes his mouth, taking a step back.

“Oh”, he mumbles.

He lowers his head. He starts blushing, gnawing on his lower lip. There it is again, that childish panic he always gets when you are fighting. You had noticed it quite a few times now. Whenever the fight turned in your favour and Taehyung felt himself cornered, he resorted to two options. Retreating into himself and running away or exploding in desperate anger and running away. It was option number one most of the times. He had to be drunk for option two to come out.

“Whatever, I’m going for a swim”, he mumbles, storming out of the bathroom afterwards.

A few minutes later you can hear the slide door open and close.

“Well, fuck”, you say under your breath, turning back to look at yourself in the mirror.

What are you doing here? You are cheating on another person with no remorse. You called Jungkook and joked around with him as if it was the morally best thing to do. You are cheating on your husband. You are married. And you are cheating.

Your stomach twists at the realisation.

You are married and you are cheating.

Why have you never even realised how wrong this is?

“Fuck”, you press out, brushing your fingers through the front of your hair roughly.

You hate cheaters. You always did and always will. You said so yourself to Jiwoo, cheaters deserve to burn in hell. And yet here you are, cheating. You are so mean, just like Taehyung said.

“Fucking hell”, you press out, cupping your own cheeks and squeezing them tightly.

You have to stop. At least for as long as you are trapped her with Taehyung. What if Taehyung walks in and hears you laugh at one of Jungkook’s stupid jokes? What if he takes the phone from you and sees Jungkook’s name on your screen? What if he hears him call you noona?

You lock eyes with yourself.

“I can't keep doing this, can I?” you ask your reflection, who has as little of an answer to your question as you.

Should you tell Jungkook that you won’t call him in those two weeks? Should you try even if it is just to prevent another fight from happening? You would have a perfect excuse for it. You and Taehyung are too close to each other, there would always be the possibility of him walking in on you talking to Jungkook. You can’t risk it.

Yes, that sounds like a good excuse. At least with this excuse you don’t need to confess to yourself that maybe you are doing this to not cause any more pain for Taehyung.

You lock eyes with your own reflection. It's decided then. Tomorrow you will call Jungkook and let him know that you won’t be calling him anymore for as long as you are stuck here.

You are already in bed, reading a book, when Taehyung comes back. He was out for dinner after his swim and you spent your alone time boiling yourself in the hot tub and doing a face mask. It was meant to calm you down, but it really didn’t. You were still feeling terribly guilty.

Now you are reading, you very much enjoy reading before bed and tonight you attempt to use it as a distraction in order not to think about everything that had happened.

“I’m back”, Taehyung announces himself.

You hum in acknowledgement, not looking up. You did so because your book is terribly thrilling and you don’t want to miss out on anything.

He studies you for a moment, grinding his teeth.

“Are you not going to talk to me?”

“Mhm?” you sneak a glance his way, “why should I?”

He blinks, eyebrows raised.

“Okay then”, he gives up, “Imma take a shower”, he murmurs coldly.

“Do that”, you say dryly, flipping the pages.

Was that too rude? Will this start another fight? And what if Jungkook makes a big scene tomorrow? What if Taehyung walks in on you when you have the phone call?

You stop your eyes. You have no recollection of what you just read. Shit. Your thoughts were wandering.

“Okay start again. And so he laid down in…”

You are kind of scared of tonight. Will it be weird to sleep next to him? What if he wants to continue talking about what happened? Or what if he wants to do what spouses are supposed to do?

You stop reading at the same part as you did last time. You did it again. You have no idea what you just read and now all you can think about is Taehyung and you having sex. You pull at your collar and swallow. You are literally the worst. This is so embarrassing to think about.

“Okay ___, you can do this. Concentrate. And then he laid down in…”

Concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate.

Stop. Now all you could think about was concentrating.

“Urgh. And then he laid down in…”

The curtains draw open, startling you. You squint your eyes and concentrate harder. You need to seem busy with reading.

His steps are rhythmic. Left, right, left, right. A quick stop where he stares at your face. Left, right, left. The blanket rustles then the mattress dents.

And then he laid down in… Concentrate, don’t let it show how nervous you are.

“What are you reading?” his voice is soft as he speaks.

You flinch, straightening up.

“Uhm”, you turn your head. He is staring at you with his hair unstyled and his body dressed in a matching pyjama set, “The Owl Service.”

Taehyung studies the book cover for a moment, fumbling with his thumbs the entire time.

“I don't know it”, he mumbles, looking away, “is it good?”

“Yeah, uhm, it's good.”

“Cool.”

He doesn’t seem to want to say another word. Good. That means he doesn’t want to talk about what happened. You are in the clear, now you can finally read without feeling like spiralling.

“About what happened…”

Your fingers tighten on the book.

“Don't. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Yes I guess…” he takes a deep breath.

You will not be able to concentrate again. Not when your heart is racing like that.

“I overreacted”, he confesses.

You sneak a glance his way. He really didn’t, he had all the right to be jealous.

“It's fine”, you whisper, ruining the poor book cover with your sweaty fingers.

“It's just that, loyalty is really important to me and I know that you aren’t particularly fond of me, but I thought that maybe, I don’t know, cheating was out of the question for both of us.”

He thinks you aren’t fond of him. Shit. You feel so terrible.

“I know”, you murmur.

“Can I-” he takes a deep breath, “-can I trust you that the hickey was a onetime thing?”

You can barely manage to keep up eye contact.

“Yes”, you clear your throat, “it was a onetime thing.”

Taehyung sighs, shoulders relaxing.

“That's a relief”, he smiles for a quick moment, “good night then.”

He lies down and turns his back to you, holding a pillow in his arms.

“Good night”, you whisper, clutching the book tightly.

And then his side of the bed frame lights turn off while you are left staring at his back.

What are you doing here?

You were planning on calling Jungkook tomorrow to tell him that your phone dates would not happen, but even that feels wrong to do. Taehyung said that loyalty is important to him and in theory it shouldn’t affect you, but it does. He was so respectful in the way he articulated his thoughts and calling Jungkook would feel too big of a betrayal.

“You goddamn idiot”, you speak silently, fishing for your phone afterwards. You type a short text to Jungkook.

- You: I don’t think I can call you….Taehyung is growing suspicious, he's starting to ask questions…sorry, but we can’t be caught…

That will explain everything to him. It is short, carries all the facts and you apologised. That will explain everything.

It is an hour and endless thoughts later when your phone vibrates. You sneak a glance over your shoulder at Taehyung. He hasn’t noticed, sleeping deeply.

You open your phone, feeling your heart sink in your chest.

- Jungkook: …

Another message.

- Jungkook: you called him by his name...

Your answer is immediate.

- You: please don’t start.

And Jungkook answers you just as quickly

- Jungkook: :(

He goes offline afterwards. You stare at the spot under his name for quite some time, not knowing what to answer him. And he never goes back online again. You close your phone and press it to your chest. You cry yourself to sleep that night.

It is your official seventh night on this godforsaken island. Now bear in mind, the island wasn’t in fact godforsaken. As a matter of fact, you think it was quite beautiful. But it was the company you need to spend your time on the island with, which makes this place godforsaken. Kim Taehyung wasn’t really annoying. Which sounds terribly contradicting, given how in the sentence before, you called his company terrible, but we are getting there, promise. Most of the times, he was busy working or he was out eating. But the nights, when you finally had to spend time together, were horrible. You weren’t fighting, but they were still horrible. You never could quite agree on what movie to watch, which always ended with either one of you grumpily watching the other person’s choice or neither of you getting what you wanted and going to bed without watching anything. You also soon realised that Taehyung needed to hug something in his sleep. Now, you weren’t judging him for that habit. If he needs it then so be it. But it was the fact that he had tried to hug you once, which makes this whole ordeal horrible. In his defence, he was already asleep and you quickly pushed him away, but good god, it made your body shiver.

You take a sip of your cocktail and sigh.

Look at you being so damn hypocritical. The time spent together wasn’t even as horrible as you make it out to be. You were working. He was working. And in what little freetime you and him had, you tried to avoid each other. Those few hours of shared nightly time were manageable and the movies weren’t that bad either. At least you weren’t fighting anymore.

Truth be told, you were bored. Trying to avoid someone only stays entertaining when you have other people with whom you can avoid them with. You have been alone for over a week and quite frankly it is starting to bore you. You could have called Jungkook, but decided to stay true to your words. You have no idea why you stayed true to your words, but you did.

You groan quietly. Gosh, you are so terribly bored.

The sun bed next to you wobbles, ripping you out of your self-wallowing. You look to your side.

“What are you doing here?” you ask Taehyung, who had so bluntly sat down next to you.

“I was bored inside”, he explains to you dryly and only now, do you notice the pink cocktail in his hand.

“Got no more Candy Crush levels to beat?”

“No, I don’t know”, he shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not really in the mood tonight.”

“Aha, I see”, you say dryly and look back out at the ocean.

You had been stargazing and ocean watching before Taehyung joined you. You do like the sky on this island. You didn’t even know that so many stars existed. The sky in Seoul is always far too bright to let it show its full potential.

“Do you want to watch a movie then?” you ask.

“No, not tonight. I'm not in the mood.”

“At least we agree on one thing.”

For quite some time there is silence between you and Taehyung. You are used to this type of silence by now. It is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, it was merely a silence. The type of silence you only get when you don’t really know what to say and quite frankly also don’t really care. The sound of the ocean and the faint music of the hotel bar is your soundtrack. It must be party night at the bar tonight, they never played music that late at night before. But then, it was a Saturday. People were in the mood to party.

“Do you want to go to the bar then? I think it's party night tonight”, you offer.

“No I don’t know”, he shrugs his shoulders, staring into his drink, “I don't want to see other people tonight.”

You study him for a moment. And yet he decided to join you. Fuck, he needs to stop with those mixed signals before you get confused. You look back at the ocean and take a hearty sip of your cocktail.

“What are you drinking?” he asks then, eyeing your half-finished cocktail.

You look into your glass, sneak a glance his way and look back at the ocean.

“Sex on the Beach”, you answer him, not saying anything further.

“Is it nice?”

“Yeah I mean, I guess”, you watch the liquid swirl around the glass as you roll your wrist slowly, “it’s a little strong.”

“Mhm, mine’s pretty strong too”, he says and takes a sip of the pink beverage.

You eye it for a moment, looking away before your brain comes up with the stupid idea of looking at his lips.

“What is it?” you ask, not knowing why you asked him the question. Maybe you are just simply looking for some sort of conversation. It is better than being bored to your death.

“Pink Lady”, he answers you, pulling a slight grimace, “honest speaking, I don’t really like the taste of alcohol. It’s far too bitter for me. Same with coffee, I hate that shit.”

You snort tiredly, averting your gaze back to the horizon. The moon is sparkling in the black waves. Like the silver sparkles of diamonds against resin. You like the ocean too. You have always loved the ocean. Misses Kang, your family’s housekeeper, always took you and Yoongi to the ocean when you were children. Those were your favourite daytrips and the only days where you and your brother could finally act like children. Misses Kang allowed you and him to get dirty until your clothes were soaked in water and sand was on every inch of your body. She did wash you before you returned home so your parents wouldn’t get mad. It was a little secret between the three of you and you loved it.

“So if you don’t like it, why do you drink it then?” you ask.

“I don’t know”, he shrugs his shoulders, “I guess sometimes it’s nice to forget the world for a few hours.”

At that you look at him, eyes racing all over his features. That was a deeper answer than you had expected him to give.

“What?” there is a hint of aggression in his voice, mostly from feeling embarrassed.

“Nothing, just didn’t expect you to go all deep on me”, you state dryly and look away.

“Yeah, well…whatever”, he mumbles, turning away from you just the slightest bit.

There is an upbeat eighties song playing at the hotel bar. You like that about hotels. They all kind of play the same music at party night. It wasn’t bad music, but it was, so you had realised, the same music. You like this about them. It gives you a sense of relaxation and belonging, knowing that no matter where you are in the world, hotel bars will always play upbeat eighties music at party night.

“Do you never want to just disappear though?” Taehyung breaks the silence again.

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said. Forget. Don’t you just want to forget and disappear, even if it’s just for a few hours?”

“Of course I do, everyone does.”

“I guess so…”

Taehyung shifts on the sun bed, crossing his ankles as he stretches his legs out.

“Why do you take so much shit from people?” he asks.

“Excuse me?” you gasp, feeling offended by his words.

“Aren’t you your own person? You said so yourself to your brother. So why are you not acting like you are?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I mean it. You allow your employees to talk to you disrespectfully without firing them instantly, you do everything your parents want you to do without complaining. Hell, you don’t even own a car because your parents don’t want you to and you work in a shitty office because your father told you to”, he laughs dryly, “you’re a strong, hardworking woman and yet you allow people to use you as their doormat.”

You scoff in disbelief. What has gotten into him? Where is this sudden urge to life coach you coming from? You didn’t ask for this and yet you are left staring into his eyes and listening to what he has to say.

“You think people will respect you if you show them over and over again that they can treat you as they wish without suffering consequences?” he says, voice quivering in anger.

You scoff, outlining the inside of your cheek with your tongue. You hate that in a way he is right. You never really have the spine to stand up to people. But this isn’t your fault. You were taught that women were supposed to be complacent and nice. That is what you were taught. Do not misbehave and smile.

“Did you just come here to offend me?” you grumble.

Taehyung sneaks a glance your way.

“I didn’t. I am just saying.”

“Well, your questions offend me”, you throw back. You look at the ocean, jaw clenching in anger. They offend you because they are true.

“Why? Because you know that they are true?”

“What the hell?” you squeak, looking at him with widened eyes, “why are you so blunt?”

“Probably because this is my third cocktail and it is starting to work”, he explains and shrugs his shoulders.

“Oh god, you’re not going to try and kiss me again are you?”

At that Taehyung looks at you, grinding his teeth. He studies your features for a moment.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he asks coldly.

That question again. It makes you feel really weird in your stomach. It is almost as if you felt guilty. Guilty for the way you yelled at him all those weeks ago. He never called you out on it, but judging by the tone of his voice he never forgot and now it is finally time to talk about it.

“I-”, you lower your eyes, “-don’t hate you. I just can’t stand you.”

“Why?”

“Cause I just do.”

He scoffs, “thanks, seriously”, he scoffs again, “it’s always nice to know that a person hates you for no apparent reason.”

“You can’t be liked by everyone”, you state coldly.

“I know that, but at least it’d be nice to know that my wife, the person who I have to spend the rest of my life with, doesn’t loathe me.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my feelings? It is not like that feeling isn’t mutual. You don’t like me either, so why should I be the one being all head over heels for you? Just so I could get hurt?” you scoff, “no thank you.”

“You know that I don’t hate you”, he says and it makes you laugh.

“Sure, tell yourself that. You just wanna fuck me.”

He laughs dryly.

“If I wanted to, I could get my satisfaction elsewhere. Worry not, this is not me being sexually frustrated.”

“Wow, congrats you want a medal for doing the decent thing of not cheating?” you grumble.

“Do not talk to me about loyalty”, he spits.

You look at him. The anger you are feeling is reflected in his eyes. You should probably feel guilty, but tonight you were drunk and that means you were bitchy.

“So? I fucked someone else and you fucked someone else, we are equal. Get over yourself.”

He scoffs and clicks his tongue before he outlines the inside of his cheek with it. His eyes are icy as he looks at you.

“You know, I didn’t want this marriage either. You think I wanted to marry a stranger instead of living out my life alone but happy? Of course not. But that’s how families like ours work, so stop acting like you are the only victim here and I am the asshole villain. I’m not and quite frankly speaking, your cold attitude hurts me”, he spits.

You huff out air through your nose, almost finding amusement in his words. He does have a point. You and him are in this together. But you won’t tell him that. Of course you won’t.

“You were the one who suggested we have private times. So take a good look at yourself before making me out to be the cold bitch.”

“Fine I agree, that was my doing”, he confesses and takes a sip of his cocktail, “but I'll never forgive you for how you yelled at me back then.”

“When you were drunk?”

“Yes, exactly”, he says, sending you a deathly glare.

“You tried to kiss me. Twice. Without asking me first. Until this moment the only touches we exchanged were the ones at the wedding and at that stupid photoshoot. Excuse me if I was feeling a little overwhelmed by your sudden clinginess.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes and agrees with you by raising his brows and clicking his tongue.

“And besides, you were drunk. I don’t sleep with people who are drunk when I'm sober. That feels like taking advantage of them.”

“So if I weren’t drunk that night.”

Your eyes race between his. He is gnawing on his lower lip.

“Ha”, you laugh breathlessly, turning away, “don't be ridiculous.”

“God, you’re so obnoxious sometimes”, he murmurs, earning himself a cold look from you.

“Why are you so pressed?” you hiss, “you're still the husband in this equation. Me? I'm just the wife. At least you still have a say in what you want to do with your life. At least you gained power and money through this marriage. Me? I was one of South Korea’s most powerful women and now I am just someone’s wife. And then you are wondering why I allow people to treat me like shit. What else should I do, when acting up would only cause me more harm?”

Taehyung looks at you.

“I did complain to my parents. I begged them not to marry me off to a stranger ‘cause we live in the twenty first century and all that feminist bullshit. You know what that did to me? A hard slap across the face from my mother and a threat from my father that if I don’t behave, he will marry me off to a man thrice my age instead of you.”

Taehyung doesn’t answer you, cocking his right eyebrow up in surprise.

“I guess that's why I hate you so much. Because every time I look at you, all I can see is what my parents stole from me. You are quite literally the personification of every bad thing my parents did to me”, you say, studying his features.

He lowers his eyes.

“That's unfair. You don’t even give me a chance to prove myself”, he says, looking back at you. There is a certain fire in his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”, you look up at the sky, “it's just really hard not to hate you when all I hear are my parents voices in my head.”

You sigh. You are going to overshare. You don’t know why you are going to overshare. Maybe it is the alcohol or maybe it is your desperate attempt to get Taehyung to understand you.

“My own mother told me to suck it up and fulfil your every wish”, you scoff, “my own mother, a woman who knows how terrible it is to be forced to marry a man she isn’t in love with, told me to suck it up.”

Taehyung looks at the ocean and clears his throat awkwardly. He takes a sip of his cocktail, shifting on the sun bed. Your words clearly flustered him.

“So? You’re not special. My father told me the same thing”, he retorts in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment.

“Yeah?” you look at him, “and did your father also tell you that if you don't get pregnant in the next two years, you can kiss your shares and your position in the company goodbye?”

Taehyung blinks at that.

“No he just-”, he wavers for a moment, “-told me that…”

“That I am your wife and that you can take me as often and however you want me to? And that if I don’t follow, you're allowed to put me in my place?” you finish his sentence and Taehyung visibly cringes.

“Don't worry, my mother told me the same thing. That I should just suck it up, close my eyes and try to relax until it's all over”, you lower your eyes, staring into your drink sadly, “and that it'll get easier with time.”

You inhale shakily.

“And that’s why I want to keep my distance. I'm scared that if I let my guard down it will give you the green light to do whatever you want with me.”

Taehyung shifts closer.

“I don't believe in that. It's fucked up and cruel”, he says and it genuinely surprises you.

Your eyes flit to his face, racing over his features in an attempt to see if he was messing with you. You laugh breathlessly, lost in disbelief.

“I promise you this”, he takes your hand into his', “I will never hurt you and I sure as hell will never fuck you without your consent.”

“Wow uhm”, you look at your intertwined fingers and swallow the lump in your throat, “uhm thank you.”

You look up and for some unexplainable reason you want to smile at him. Taehyung seems flustered. He pulls his hand away quickly, hiding it between his thighs.

Silence. Taehyung uses it to slurp his cocktail nervously. You use it to study his face. Perhaps you were wrong about him. Perhaps he isn’t as bad as you thought he was.

“I won’t hurt you either, just so you know.”

Taehyung looks at you from the corners of his eyes, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, uhm”, he scoots away and even goes so far as to stand up, “either way, I’m off for the night. I’m terribly tired all of a sudden”, he says and you know that this was a lie.

“Uhm yeah sure”, you clear your throat, “have a nice sleep.”

“Thank you”, he looks away, “you too”, he adds in a murmur and then he is already hurrying away in big steps.

Taehyung is sleeping when you arrive at the house. He left the windows open. You stare at him for a moment, touching your hand. You can still feel his skin on yours, warm and soft. He touched you. He held your hand. You want to smile before you stop yourself, shaking your entire body.

You can’t smile at that. It’s weird to smile at that. Isn’t it?

It must have been two hours after you fell asleep that night, before you wake up again. You are wide awake in an instant. Loud thunder had woken you. You whimper, pressing your hand over your ears.

Another lighting bold and loud thunder all at the same time. No this can’t be happening. Not a thunderstorm. Anything, but a thunderstorm. Please. With fear in your stomach, you sit up and roll out of bed.

The windows are all open. Harsh rain and the cold wind whip into the room, almost ripping the curtains from their poles.

Another thunder, it makes you flinch.

The floor is wet as you hurry over it. The curtains are soaked, hitting your legs.

The first window finally closes. Without taking a breath you run over to the second one. The wind throws it closed for you, frightening you even more.

“Fucking hell, can you be any louder?” Taehyung groans, dark eyes fixated on you.

“The storm”, you simply say, voice quivering in fear.

The third and thankfully last window closes after a moment of struggle.

You exhale shakily. At least the storm doesn’t sound so scary anymore. The rain also doesn’t sound so dangerous anymore.

Thunder rumbles, your entire body flexing in fright.

“So? I’m trying to sleep here”, Taehyung grumbles, lying back down.

He pulls the blanket up his body and closes his eyes.

Would it be weird if you asked him for a hug? You are so terribly frightened right now that you just want a hug. Doesn’t matter from whom.

Bright light. Loud thunder. You squeak, running back to the bed. You throw yourself onto the mattress.

“Oh my god”, Taehyung growls, whipping around, “don't jump on the bed like that.”

He inspects your face, propping himself up on his elbow.

“What's the matter? Why are you crying?” he asks tiredly.

“The storm's so scary”, you hiccup, shaking under the blanket.

He cocks up an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.

“Are you scared of thunderstorms?” he asks.

“Yeah”, you croak, squeaking when a moment later lightning strikes again. You even press your eyes shut when the thunder rumbles.

Taehyung sighs tiredly, lying back down again.

“Come here”, he says, opening his arms for you.

“W-what?” you stutter, staring at him with big eyes.

“You're scared aren’t you?” he sends you a slightly annoyed look.

“Yeah…”

“So come here, I'll hold you.”

You could decline, but he is offering and you really, really need a hug. So you give in, scooting closer and resting your head on top of his arm. You stare up at him, he has his eyes closed. Are you allowed to go further? To throw your arm around him and snuggle closer? Or would that be weird?

Lighting. Thunder.

“Oh god”, you squeal, practically squeezing yourself against Taehyung, arm clutching his body and face hidden in the crook of his neck. Fuck weird, you need a hug.

Taehyung closes his arm around you, resting his hand on the back of your head. He takes a deep breath.

“It's alright, it can’t hurt you”, he lulls tiredly, “just try to fall asleep again.”

“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head vigorously.

Another thunder rumbles and it scares you, but as Taehyung shushes you quietly and rubs your head gently, you realise that it doesn’t scare you as much as it did before.

The hug works. His warmth and embrace actually works. Your face is hidden in his neck far enough to shield you from the bright lighting. His hug actually works.

Another thunder rumbles, but it doesn’t sound that scary anymore. Taehyung made sure it wouldn’t by placing his hand over your ear before it could cut through the air.

Shit. He is actually calming you down. Kim Taehyung is actually managing to give you enough comfort to calm down.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply. He smells of ylang-ylang and lavender. It's kind of nice.

Taehyung’s breathing changes, he must be falling asleep again. With his last bit of strength he flips to his side, pulling you against his chest.

Your eyes are wide open again. Your hands are just sort of resting on his chest, his fingers in your hair and his arm is around you. This is so much more intimate than the other position. You can even feel his chest rise and sink and when you concentrate hard enough, you can even feel his heartbeat against the tip of your nose.

Should you hug him back? Or is that going too far? But your arm hurts so much in this position. You have to change it.

So you take a deep breath and go for it. You snake your arm around his middle. Taehyung hums in his sleep, hugging you tighter. His smell is so strong. You really, really like it.

Lightning strikes. Thunder rumbles. It's scary, but bearable. You almost sob in relief. The storm is bearable. It is bearable.

His warm breath fans over your skin, he falls even deeper into unconsciousness.

Lighting.

Thunder.

Then, a tickle. Just the faintest of tickles when Taehyung, in his last conscious attempt of calming you, kisses your forehead.

You gasp, twisting his shirt involuntarily. A second kiss, softer than the first. Your heart flutters. Taehyung sighs, body growing soft against you. Sleep has finally overtaken him.

So Kim Taehyung’s instinct in his sleep was to hug you close and kiss your forehead. And not just once, but twice. You close your eyes and squeeze him. The storm doesn’t sound so scary anymore.

You are working late. You made sure that you would because you were still terribly embarrassed about being scared of a thunderstorm in front of Taehyung. He hadn’t called you out on it for the entirety of today, but you know that he remembers. He gave you all those weird looks today. They were weird because you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out what emotion they were supposed to convey. So you decided to work late. Wearing your pyjamas and with your laptop on your legs, you were propped up in bed, sporting a terrible headache. Outside another storm is raging, however it is not as bad as the one last night. Only rain and the occasional squall can be heard.

Taehyung returns from his forty minute hot tub session. He had been on the beach before that, caught in the rain and terribly chilly.

“I needed that”, he says, strutting through the room, “I was so cold.”

You have the brilliant idea of looking up, coming face to face with his naked torso. His hair is still damp and he is only wearing a towel.

“Geez”, you gasp, covering your eyes quickly, “couldn’t you have put a shirt on?”

Taehyung sighs in annoyance, covering his chest with his hand.

“I forgot my clothes outside. Would you rather had me tell you to bring them to me?” he states dryly, walking past the bed over to his suitcase.

“I would have gotten them for you”, you say, trying not to peek.

“No, you would have told me to get them myself.”

“Hey! That's unfair of you to say. You don’t know if I would have.”

“Well, would you have?”

“No, I'd have gotten them for you. I need a break from work any-”, you say, looking at him.

He has his back turned to you.

No way.

You put the laptop on your nightstand and sit up on the bed.

No way.

“Are you actually fucking serious?” you spit, getting up from bed.

“What have I done now?” he asks tiredly.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you fucking dick”, you bark, stomping over to him, “you have the audacity to accuse me of cheating when you are the one to walk around with scratch marks all over your back”, you growl.

Taehyung freezes up, head snapping up.

“Just fucking look at that, all scratched up”, you spit, inspecting the dozens of red marks on his back, “and you had the audacity to make me feel bad for something that happened two months ago”, you add, reaching out to push him slightly.

Your hand touches his back.

“No!”

Taehyung flinches away with such intensity it startles you. He whips around, quickly pressing himself against the wall as if he wanted to shield his back from you.

“D-don’t t-touch me”, he stutters, panting nervously, “p-please don’t touch me”, he begs, eyes filled with fear.

“Uuuuh, what is happening? I didn’t even touch you that hard”, you say, blinking in confusion.

Taehyung pants for air, swallowing repeatedly. His glassy eyes race over your features. He swallows, grunting quietly. His eyes flit to the floor.

“I don’t want to be touched”, he says quietly, clasping the clothes so tightly his knuckles turn white.

You clear your throat, having to cough awkwardly. Well, that just took a weird turn. You look to your side.

“Sure, I respect that”, you murmur.

“I'm, I'm s-sorry”, he stutters, running away afterwards.

“Taehyung?”

You watch him disappear in the toilet with your mouth hanging open. What just happened? You didn’t even touch him that harshly. Why did he react like you were planning on hurting him? He looked close to a panic attack. You have never seen him like this before. Was he surprised that you touched him? Is that it? Or was it the fact that you touched his back, which made him spiral? Why? Was it because he was embarrassed about getting caught?

Those marks on his back. With whom did he sleep to get such marks? You had been on this trip for more than a week and they are still covering his back. Some were even bruised. That woman must have been a total beast. They looked like they must have hurt. You scoff, serves him right. He had the audacity to make you feel guilty for cheating on him with Jungkook when he was cheating on you too.

“Urgh.”

You could have had so much phone sex with Jungkook in those past eight days. Oh, you are so angry, you would love to storm into the bathroom and yell at that prick.

You stop yourself before you can however. But then, why did he want to cover his back from you? Were they really from sex?

“I'm going to lose my mind if shit's like that is gonna continue happening.”

You look at the closed toilet door.

If those marks weren’t from sex, then how did he get them instead? Did he perhaps trip on the beach and fall into some shrubs? Perhaps he is too embarrassed to tell you this story and so he is covering it up by overreacting.

You shake your head. No, this is a silly thought.

Another hesitant look at the toilet door.

So where are those marks from? Should you check on him? Yes. You should.

“Hey, are you alright?” you ask, knocking on the door.

You can hear the water of the faucet running.

“Yes, I’m good!” he sounded out of breath as he spoke the words.

“You sure?”

“Leave!”

You take a step back, fingers slipping from the doorknob slowly.

“Sorry, yeah I'll leave.”

You sit down on the edge of bed, eyes glued to the closed door. What is going on here? You really didn’t push him that hard. You would never do that. You watched how domestic violence can ruin a person. Your mother is the best example of it. Your father ruined her and you swore to yourself that you would never be that person for your spouse. Even if you didn’t like them.

You made sure you wouldn’t actually push him. It was meant to be a little nudge, nothing more. Why did he react like this? There was so much fear in his eyes.

Your stomach twists, your hand falling over your mouth.

“Holy shit, was he scared of me?”

No, oh no, god no. He was. He was scared of you. You never wanted this to happen.

The toilet door opens and Taehyung comes outside all dressed and with his head hanging low.

“Hey, Taehyung I apologize if I pushed you harder than I thought. I-”

He ignores you and swerves, making his way to the kitchen quickly.

“Taehyung?”

Should you follow him and make sure that he knows that he doesn’t need to be scared of you?

He makes the decision for you when he returns a moment later, drinking water.

“I'm sorry if I hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

You knit your brows. He continues drinking his water. So he didn’t react like this because you pushed him? Your eyes flit to his covered back. So touching his back was the trigger. What does this mean?

“I need an explanation. What just happened?” you say, following him with your eyes.

Taehyung sits down on the bed. He is clutching that poor water bottle as if his life depended on it.

“Taehyung?”

He massages his forehead rather aggressively as if he was in distress.

“I am talking to you”, you stress, turning on the bed to face him.

His cheeks are heated, his eyes swollen and red.

“Talk to me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut for only a second.

“Can we please forget what just happened?” he asks, voice croaky.

“No, I need explanations. Why is your back covered in scratches and bruises?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does, because if it was from sex than I think it's rather unfair of you to judge me for something that happened two months ago.”

Taehyung closes his eyes and furrows his brows.

“Please ___”, he begs.

You falter for a moment. He never begs.

“Who did that to you?” you ask in the end with worry lacing your voice.

“Why can’t you do what I ask you to do just once?” he yells, voice bouncing off the walls.

You scoot back, staring into his glassy, blown-out eyes in shock.

“Don’t yell at me”, you murmur.

“What else should I do? You don’t listen otherwise!” he screams, hand shaking as he points at you.

You break your eyes away and look at the mattress instead. There it is. Option two, although this time he seems more scared than anything.

“I was just worried.”

“Don't. It doesn’t concern you”, he spits.

“Fine, geez. I got the message”, you grumble, turning away from him, “I'm going to continue thinking that it's from sex, just so you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess it can’t be changed”, he murmurs.

You glance at him. He doesn’t know that you are looking at him, rubbing at his eyes almost as if he is trying not to cry. The more you look at him, the more you get the feeling that those marks weren’t from sex. Who did that to him and why?

“You’re okay, aren’t you?” you ask quietly.

“As if you would care”, he murmurs, voice shaky.

“I mean…”, you pause, “…if you want to talk-”

“No, just don’t”, he chokes out, shaking his head.

“Uhm…” you gnaw on your lower lip, “…okay?”

Taehyung lies down then, having his back turned to you and the blanket pulled all the way up to his head.

“I'm sorry that I touched your back”, you whisper.

Taehyung doesn’t answer you, he merely rolls into a little ball. He is clutching a pillow as if his life depended on it.

This is starting to worry you. He is shaking like crazy, it is moving the entire mattress.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask quietly.

No answer, just his arms tightening around his pillow.

You lay down, facing him. You can’t stop staring at his back. Either he is the best actor on planet earth and he just fooled you into believing that those marks weren’t from sex or he was telling the truth and there was a darker story behind those marks.

“Do you want a hug?”

He hears you. You know that he does because for only a second he stops breathing.

He is not going to say yes. He is too proud for that. This was a stupid thing to ask.

Taehyung begins breathing again, moving his head. His arms loosen around the pillow as well.

Or is he going to say yes? Your heart begins racing.

He rolls on his back then, having abandoned the pillow.

He will. Your breath hitches.

He flips to his side, now facing you.

You scoot closer.

Taehyung’s eyes flit down.

You touch his arm softly. For the briefest of moments he tenses up, relaxing with a sigh afterwards.

Closer and closer until his face is inches away from touching your chest. You rub little circles on his arm, careful not to touch his back.

“I don't think that you got them from sex.”

Taehyung tilts his head up, staring at you with glassy eyes and his lower lip between his teeth.

“But you don’t have to tell me. I’ll hold you tonight either way.”

He hiccups to cover up a whimper, knitting his brows. He lowers his head, scooting closer until his face is cuddled against your chest.

“Thank you”, he whispers, placing his hand on your side most tenderly.

“Uhm….” you clear your throat, hoping that he won’t hear your racing pulse, “...sleep tight then?”

“You too”, he forces out.

He is tense, so are you. So you are cuddling again. For two continuous nights you are cuddling.

“Is it okay if I put my arm around you?” you whisper.

He nods and exhales shakily. And so you drape your arm around him, patting his upper back twice before realising how stupid that was to do. Not because it triggers Taehyung again, but because you realised that you did so to give him comfort.

When you feel that he is growing softer in your arms however, giving him comfort doesn’t seem that stupid anymore. You pat his upper back again. Once. Twice. Thrice. He sighs and snuggles into you, hand travelling to your back to squeeze you closer.

It feels so big and warm as it rests between your shoulder blades, making your eyes fall closed. You place your hand on the back of his head and squeeze him closer too, eliciting a little whimper from him.

“You're safe tonight”, you whisper.

And Taehyung twists your shirt in answer, snuggling so close one could have believed he was trying to melt with you.

601 notes · View notes

littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Easy Prey

Summary: Direct sequel to Jerk. Ring or not, August promised himself that he will make you his, in whatever mean possible and he kept that promise.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (2nd person pov)

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+, dark, kidnapping, bondage, dubious consent, teasing, dirty talk, gunplay (yeah add this to the list of kinks I gave you), sweet degradation and praise.

A/N: You thought August is going to sweet talk this one, didn’t you? Surprise! This was a short drabble brought by a prompt, turned into a one-shot and then my beta @agniavateira suggested this as a sequel to Jerk before I posted. Since most of you may be in a thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, enjoy my own early b-day gift to you! Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming and @sapphirescrolls who convinced me to post this.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Your feedback is my fuel. 🖤

Easy Prey

August Walker lived his life swinging between the two sharp edges of a sword; but then, how could he not? He had to maintain a handsome prime-alpha male reputation while hiding his true cruel nature masked beneath mist and shadows.

It took everyone by surprise once it was revealed that the slick, charming agent was a vicious, Armani-wearing monster. A hard-to-swallow pill for most, but these two diverse entities were always one and the same:

August Walker was John Lark the way darkness followed light.

And how unfortunate it was of you to be lured into the spider’s web, stunned by the beauty of the pearly silk; you’ve gotten too close and had your limbs caught in the sticky threads. Now captured, you’ve earned yourself a taste of August’s sweet toxin yourself.

Fear wasn’t even close to the sensation that was gnawing in your gut.

The suite was cosy; a sleepy fire crackled in the mantle, shy beams of maple light kissed your bare breasts while you laid upon the softest pillows. It felt like a sinister joke compared to the ropes charring the supple flesh of your wrists. August had you stripped of any remnants of protection of course, save for the little jewellery circling your finger which he eyed with a blank stare that screamed in its contained silence.

Fully clothed, he stood at the fore of the bed, wearing a blue three-piece suit as if he was attending a royal wedding. A magnum was clutched in his right hand and a dagger in the other. The calmness and elegance of his appearance only made you arch and grunt in your fruitless attempts to set yourself free.

“Ropes too tight, angel?” He hummed, his voice so pleasant it felt like your lungs were floating in a void. His crystal-pale gaze dawdled upon you, invading beneath the skin, penetrating the warm crease between your legs which you fought to keep shut.

He felt it, or maybe even smelled the arousal that wafted at his direction and chanted his name.

“I’d save my strength if I were you. We’ve already proven that no one can hear your screams and we have a long night ahead of us.”

His words covered the bones of your spine with a thick layer of frost and in your searing throat, a bitter substance reemerged. Screwing your eyes shut, you wished more than anything for this to be a nightmare; but every time the binds twisted about your hands, you remembered the dreadful meaning behind the pain.

It was there to remind you of the harsh slap that was reality.

August tilted his head, a smile beginning to spread from each corner of his mouth: all pleasant and charming as if this was nothing but a couple’s naughty getaway.

“You can’t wake up from this, this is not a dream… or a nightmare, depends on your disobedience,” he assured, boding a sudden hollow in your chest. “Now, which one do you prefer? The knife or the gun?”

“Fuck you!”

Defiant, you gathered yourself to scream a trembling cry, sending your legs to kick the mattress in a hopeless fight. Only it made things worse as August was able to spot the little dew-kissed orchid between your legs, glistening-wet with invitation.

Flicking a tongue over his upper lip, he crept close. His broad shoulders strained, his posture that of an elegant predator; as you saw the large outlines of his heavy cock stretching his navy-blue trousers, even hatred and horror couldn’t mask the pang of need that shot through your core.

Despite the panic, the traitorous instinct of life whispered of undisclosed, primal lust. You wished so badly you could fight or hide it, but alas there was no hiding from August. He could sense it, see it, and even taste it on his wicked tongue.

“Gun then,” he answered and slid the knife back into the holster in his belt.

Your breath hitched as the mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you watched paralysed as he aimed the gun between your legs. Strong tremors coursed along your skin and your knees buckled and wobbled as the cold metal touched you; and yet, in that very moment, you did the impossible and moaned.

“Has it been that long since you had a dick inside you?” August observed with a vicious grin crisping his lips. It made his moustache twitch almost comically.

“Don’t worry sweet angel, we’ll fix that soon.”

Pushing the gun between your kneecaps, he forced them open and ran the barrel feverishly down your inner thighs. The metal was freezing against your flesh, eliciting little tingles to spiral beneath the tender brush. Gasping, you looked away from him ashamed. You were terrified, not just of him, but from how much the wanton centre of your sex clenched from his ministrations.

You were bound and kidnapped by a dangerous man, and yet in your mind played the sick fantasies of him unbuckling his belt and giving you his full girth hard and wild.

“You will soon have me in every hole,” August continued with a promise on his honeyed lips while lowering the brim of the weapon perilously close to your radiating heat and toying with the sensitive area teasingly. “I will make it hurt real bad, you’ll feel me there for days if not more,” he hummed and swerved the barrel between your engorged lips.

“Please!” You gasped and writhed away slightly, tugging on the binds that began chafing your delicate skin. August raised his glare to meet your pleading eyes and leaned forward, his shadow looming over you entirely. Reaching one hand to your nape, he clutched you forcefully while his icy glare pierced right through your skull.

Slow and sensual he began to run the gun between your soft petals, gingerly grazing the hard shaft at the plump peak of flesh that made you cry out with both pleasure and despair.

“Aww...” He keened and groaned. Never stopping his coaxing of your cunt with the still object, his breath huffed hot upon your cheek as he rounded his beautiful lips in faux pity. “Poor helpless little butterfly.”

Crying and dazed, you stared directly into his eyes. Words of plea kept running caged inside your head, unable to make their way out while you watched August’s large shoulder move back and forth. The movement resulting in the unwanted pleasure. Back and forth, he stroked you, gradually increasing the pace, and not without style even. Ruthless, August was keen on making you come.

You weren’t even sure what it was that you begged for at that point.

Grunts and sobs escaped your throat unwillingly. You squirmed and pushed against it, your body craving for more: not just for the rough friction that tingled at your cunt but also at the large bulge visible at his groin. The more rapture began to creep through your flowing tendons, the further you sank into delirium, wondering how he would feel like buried deep between your tight walls, fucking you the way only someone who has no boundaries would.

“Fuck!” You screamed, grinding against the metal while August leaned even closer and kissed the corner of your mouth before groaning and moaning at your lips. His hand worked hard between your thighs, the cold barrel now warm, the hollow edge coated with your elixir.

The wall of your protests crumbled as the simmering surge of climax began pushing itself down your belly, leaving you teetering between self-loathing and ecstasy.

“That’s right my beautiful butterfly, I’ll pluck your wings,” August promised in a husky whisper, watching you as you coiled and cried louder, your walls convulsing tightly around a sad, empty space as you came. If only you didn’t wish it was August choked between them instead.

As you slumped down, sweaty and breathless, he drawled a growl of content and slowly withdrew the gun to hold it next to your shivering face.

“I swear, Sloan’s assistants keep getting sluttier every year; the last one I fucked had a thing for me choking her,” he mocked while grazing the wet barrel against your cheek, “do you think you’d be into that too, sweetling? My hand around your throat?”

Rounding your eyes in utter fear, you swallowed the dryness in your throat. August sighed with a malicious little grin while twisted awe danced between the blue, sparkling sapphires that examined you ecstatically, so fascinated by how easily he managed to break and bend you to his will.

Still holding the neck of the gun pressed next to your cheek, he reached the other hand above your head. A part of you was relieved for a moment, thinking he was about to untie the bind.

But your hope quickly died as you felt his fingers rolling the ring that decorated your finger.

The diamond reflected onto the deep blue of his eyes as he examined it closely before throwing it directly into the fireplace.

“No!” You cried out brokenly, as the last memory of your old life disappeared in flames.

“Save your tears beautiful,” August retorted, his voice once again so soft it chilled your very core. He shifted his entire weight between your straddled thighs, and leaned in to kiss the wetness below your eye, “you won’t be needing it anymore.”

His tongue slipped out to collect the briny liquid that gathered on your cheek, and another hum of delight rumbled in his chest as his covered cock unmistakably ground against your mound, “I am your man from now on, might as well accept it and let me do whatever I want.”

Shivering under him, you took a deep breath, your body already swaying in demand as you felt him throbbing beneath the soft fabric of his pants. To your own horror, your head fell into a slow nod of shameful consent.

It wasn’t just August you were afraid of, but also for yourself.

#henry cavill #August Walker #august walker x reader #henry cavill x reader #august walker fanfiction #august walker x you #dark!fanfiction

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ordinaryschmuck · 2 years

Note

I suggested of writing where Eda, Luz, and King are having fun together at the knee, especially for Eda turn into the owl beast at the snow. Scene based on Wolf children.

(Disclaimer: I've never seen Wolf Children. Taking a swing in the dark here.)

Snow Day

Eda sat on a log, smiling a toothy smile as she looked at the display in front of her.

"King!" Luz shouted, chasing the tiny demon in question while he hopped on all fours through the snow.

"Come on, Luz!" he cried, "Have a sense of humor!"

"It's not about humor! It's about honor! When you throw a snowball at the back of someone's head, the law dictates that same person shoves your face into the snow."

"There's no way that's true! Tell her, Eda!"

"Sorry, King!" Eda called back with a shrug, "Lily and I had the same law. And she always deserved it."

"Deserved what?" Luz asked, not taking her eyes off King, "Getting hit in the back of the head with a snowball, or getting her face dunked into the snow?"

"Both."

"Oh, come on!" King whined, only for Luz to then tackle him in the snow.

"Ha! Got you! Now, apologize!"

"Never! The king of demons apologizes to nobody!"

"You're not even the king of demons...maybe the prince. But definitely not the king!"

"I'm the king in spirit! Eda, help me!"

"Alright, alright," Eda got off of her stump to walk over to Luz and King. "Luz, get off of King. King, stop taking cheap shots and throw a snowball at someone's face like a man next time. Got it?"

"Ok," both children said, with Luz getting off of King and King shaking the snow off of himself.

"Alright, Kiddo," Eda looked to Luz, "You and King had your fun with snowmen and snowball fights. Any other fun stuff you've got in mind?"

"Hm," Luz stroked her chin in thought. "Oh! I know!"

She begins drawing an ice glyph in the snow. Giving it a tap, a slab of ice forms from it, to which Luz picks it up and holds the slab at the ready.

"Who's up for some sledding?"

"Sledding?"

"Yup. You take a sled, which is this thing," Luz gestures to her ice slab, "and ride it down a hill. Plus, since this bad boy is made of ice, that means it'll go crazy fast when we do!"

"Huh," was all Eda could think to say, "That sounds a little risky...So, let's do it!"

"Yeah!" King cheered, "Winter fun!"

"Winter fun!" Luz screamed with him. "And this sled deserves something more than just a hill."

She points to the top of a slope.

"We're going down that! Eda, a little help getting us up there?"

"My pleasure."

Within seconds, Eda transforms into her harpy form and holds Luz and King up into her arms.

"I was thinking we used Owlbert," Luz confessed, "But this is way cooler!"

"Darn right! What's the point of turning into a foxy harpy woman if I won't abuse it at a given opportunity. Now, hang tight."

Eda then flies the three of them up the slope, but once at the top, King clings to Luz.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea..."

"Oh, don't worry, you traitorous little scamp," Luz said while patting his head. "Luz gots you."

"And so do I," Eda proclaimed as she flapped her wings to float above them. "Things get too intense, then I'll swoop down and save you."

"You see? You'll be safe."

"...Ok," King nodded, "Let's do this!"

"That's the wintery spirit!"

With that, Luz set her ice sled down on the slope's edge. King sat on the front while she took the back.

"You ready, buddy?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright," Luz set her hands behind the sled, ready to push them down. "In three--"

"Wait!"

"..."

"...Ok, never mind. I'm still ready."

"Gotcha. In three...two...ONE!"

"Wait!"

But it was too late. By the time Luz yelled "one," she then pushed her and King down the slope, the two of them screaming with a mix of fear and joy as they slid down.

At first, things didn't go too bad. That is until they started swerving a little uncontrollably.

"Uh, Luz?" King tightly held unto said human's legs. "Can you control your steering a bit?"

"I'm trying! Turns out, a sled made of ice is crazy hard to control!"

"Rock!" King pointed ahead, and, sure enough, they were heading for a rock. "Rock, rock, rock, rock, ROCK!"

"I can't steer away from it!"

"What do we do?!"

"Bail!"

"Bailing!"

They both then dived off the sled, making it shatter into the rock upon impact as the two of them rolled down the slope. Finally, Eda flew down, scooping Luz up into one arm, and then flew over to King to scoop him up with the other.

"You two ok?!" She screamed once they were safely in the air.

Initially, no one said anything. But then, King started to chuckle.

A chuckle then turned into a laugh, and in no time, he was howling like a madman.

"That was awesome!" he screamed before laughing even louder. His laughter became infectious as both Eda and Luz soon joined in on the merriment.

"Can we do that again?" King enthusiastically asked.

"Uh, no," Eda stated firmly, albeit with a smile. "I'm not losing two kids to another rock because they're idiotic thrillseekers."

"Aw," Luz cooed, "You called us your kids!"

"I can still drop you, you know."

"But you wouldn't~!" King joined in on the teasing, "Because we're your kids!"

Eda only groaned, making Luz and King laugh louder as they hugged her tight, warming the Owl Lady's heart all the while.

#the owl house #luz noceda #king clawthorne #eda clawthorne #the hiatus of drabbles

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad.

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return.

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land.

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly.

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great).

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman best wingman obviously #not really he just couldnt bear to see the both you be so painfully awkward with eachother bye #but hey he helped at the end of the day

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

Chapter 18: No mercy for snakes

Chapter 18 of Different light

A/N- I hope you guys like it :)

Warning- Angst! Fluff, swearing and talks of blood.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

The moment you walked into the shop you were instantly welcomed with the chaotic overwhelming joy that the Weasley’s joke shop was filled with, from the start of the shop, to the farthest corner.

Different types of bright objects flew over your head, and past your body, making you swerve and duck as you walked inside and once again admired the store, and the twins ' dedication. You didn’t catch the smile on your face until Draco’s whiny voice broke you from your stupor and made that smile turn upside down. “Can we hurry, all this madness is making my head hurt.”

You roll your eyes and sigh out deeply before you just lazily wave him off. “Sure, sure.”

Draco scoffs and parts his lips to argue, but you walk off beforehand, unknowingly catching the attention of the Weasley twins this time, unlike the last time you visited.

“Well, well,” George smugly said as he suddenly appariated next to you, the sudden sound of two loud pops going off at your aides making you jump and flinch. “Could it be?”

“Our favorite Malfoy?” Fred teased as he leaned forward and tilted his head to meet your terrified gaze. “Are you back from the dead now?” He smirked. “Well I mean since you haven’t visited not once.”

You let out a nervous laugh and step back as you shrug awkwardly, seeing them both turn to keep facing you. “Well, I know, I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I’ve been busy. Y’know,” you rub your wrist and feel a heavy weight set over your heart. “It’s my last year of school, my father is in prison, and well school has been kicking my ass.”

“We’re only teasing you, Malfoy,” George assures you with a half grin. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Your eyes drift to Fred and instantly at the sight of his face you feel a wave of guilt wash over you, feel memories of the last time you talked to him flood your mind. Your shoulders dropped and you could feel your heart race, whilst the words you had been wanting to say to apologize stung your throat. You tried parting your lips as you managed to work up the courage to share what you needed to say, but Fred raised his finger and shook his head to cut you off. “I know what you’re going to say. And don’t. It’s alright. It hurt, I have to admit, but I’m over it now. You’re fine darling.”

A relieved breath of air escapes your lips and you show off a small relieved smile as well. “Really? But the way we—”

“It’s alright,” Fred interjects before he and George grab your shoulders and turn you around to begin walking you through the shop. “Promise.” He smiles widely and rapidly changes the subject. “What has been irking our minds though,”

“Is if you passed your apparition test?” George finished for Fred.

You grin smugly and nod, “aced it!”

They both smile and pat your back before George continues. “Well you did have great teachers.”

“Oh?” You question as you turn around to walk backwards and face them. “Is that so? I don’t recall.”

“We taught you everything you know, Malfoy,” Fred points at you almost offendedly. “Don’t be getting cocky now.”

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “I think neither of you should be getting cocky,” you smirk, “there's a lot of things I taught you both. Without me some of those pranks wouldn’t have happened.” You turn and walk a bit ahead of the boys as you begin to look at the items on shelves, pausing for seconds as you decide if you want to buy them. “For example that prank on Snape, where I fixed your spell and turned his hair into different colors without him knowing. Or,” you add as you put an object down, “when we pranked those Ravenclaw assholes?”

Fred and George snicker and grin proudly at the memory of what the three of you had done. They reminisce on past pranks and then get the idea to offer you something. “Y’know what Malfoy?” George begins. “We could use you here in the joke shop, it’d be loads of fun having you manage the shop with us.”

At the sound of their offer you stop in front of a small pink table in the shop. Not taking long to notice that you had stopped in front of the love potion table until Fred picked up a small flask of the potion, and twisted it in between in his fingers. “You’re meant for a lot of great things, being here could be one of those great things.”

You breathe slowly for a few seconds before you inhale deeply and shakily. Somewhere in your clustered mind the offer tempted you, pulled you this sense of light within your dark mind. But….you couldn’t accept their offer and see the light that called for you.

“I’d love to,” you share quietly as you let out a deep breath, “but I can’t.”

Not only because of what you were tied down to, but because you wanted other things in life. You had other dreams. Being here would be fun. But you couldn’t have it.

“Y/N, are you about done?” Draco’s sudden appearance behind you and the twins cuts you off. “If I stay any longer I’ll puke.”

A groan escapes you, and with clenched fists you slowly turn around alongside the twins to face your beloved brother. “Yes,” you nod stiffly. “I’m done.” Your eyes shift to an object in his hands and you ease a bit out of curiosity. “Are you?”

“I would if I could pay,” he sneers as he hands the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder to you. “But it seems they’re busy drooling over you, so why don’t you take care of it and meet me outside,” he huffs out. “And make it fast, we have other things to do before we head back to school.”

“Sure,” you brush him off as he’s quick to turn on his heels to storm off.

“He’s delightful as ever,” George remarks sarcastically with a scowl decorating his face, and Freds as well.

You sigh and shrug, “he’s….just being Draco. I’m sorry.” You look at the twins and force a smile. “I’ll just take this I guess.”

Fred and George don’t question the item in your hand and guide you to go ring you up, looking over their shoulders to pick up their previous topic.

“Consider our offer.” George shares with a happier look.

“Yeah,” Fred nods, “we’d love having you here.”

Your eyes fall onto the object in your hand and you smile sadly, knowing it couldn’t ever happen. “I’ll consider it.”

——

“So why is it you need this for anyway?” You ask Draco as you lift the darkness powder to view it under the light.

“Obviously I have it for emergencies, idiot,” Draco’s snaps bitterly as he turns the hall and aims for the door that began to slowly appear as you made your way to it. “Why else would I have gone into that terrible shop.”

You shrug as you put your hand down, “for fun maybe? I don’t know. If you know what that’s about, anyway.” You snicker, earning a brief warning glare.

“Pfft,” he spits, “as if.” He looks at you over shoulder as you both stop and wait for the doors to open. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself with those blood-traitors though?” Draco smirks, “one holiday without your boyfriend and you’re already talking to other boys.”

Your gaze instantly narrows as he walks forward through the room filled with lost objects, you rush forward and shove him, causing him to giggle softly. “They’re my friends Draco. I can have other friends,” you shove past him and turn one some corner, swerving past stacks of books and seeing Draco walk around and cut you off. “Maybe if you had them, you’d actually know what it’s like.”

Draco fixes his suit jacket and scoffs. “I do have them. Ones that are better than your band of traitors, half-bloods and mud-bloods. Except for Clementine of course.”

You sigh, and look at the passing beams of light casted on the floor that reflected through the windows on the ceiling. “Not like any would be friends for long….” you trail off and come to a mindless stop as you instinctively already know where the cabinet is. “After we….” you swallow thickly and roll your head upward to look away from the floor. “....kill Dumbledore, I doubt I’ll have any friends left.”

Draco’s eyes slide to you and his gaze stays on you for a brief moment as he takes in what you say, the realization of what your actions would cause. It stabbed his heart and left him wounded and hurt. He could see the same thing go through your head, but he made no effort to comfort what could possibly be true. Instead he looked away from you and pulled the cloak off the cabinet, stepping back to look at the enormous and irritating cabinet. “I forgot to tell you, but I told Madam Rosmerta about the Bungbarrel spiced mead.”

You clench your fists and mutter out. “So she’ll deliver it?”

“Yes,” he nods stiffly, opening his clenched fist and offering his hand to you. “Ready?”

Your eyes fall to his hand before you move your hand to wrap it around his, continuing to look up at him and nod in agreement. “Not like we have a choice right?” You don’t expect a response from him, so instead you both look at the cabinet and lift your other hands just a bit to get ready to cast a spell that could mend the cabinet.

“Let’s hope the old man knows what he's talking about,” Draco complained bitterly.

“Right,” you whispered in agreement, proceeding to draw in a deep breath that you held in for a couple seconds, before you released it as both Draco, and you mumble the spell that was given to you by Borgin, that would combine the strength of Draco’s magic and yours to make a powerful spell that could mend the cabinet.

Since the spell didn’t spew out any light, nor smoke, or anything visible, you had to go off by the sight of the Cabinet rattling to know that the spell was working. Or at least that’s what you wanted to think. Neither of you would know until you tested out. But neither of you tried the cabinet after you were done with the spell, you both studied it and noticed that nothing changed visibly.

Instead you both came to a quiet agreement that you’d try later, no matter what Snape had to say about hurrying up. You just both didn’t want to get this over with, unknowingly you both were dragging it out as best as you could. Because after all, the longer you took to fix it, the longer you had to avoid your task, the longer Dumbledore lived. So instead of trying out the cabinet after your spell, you both quietly returned to your common room that at this time of year was as depressing as the rest of the school was.

Unlike the time you spent the holidays here two years ago, this time the school wasn’t filled with festivities or hosting a school dance. School was emptied out as mostly everyone was with their tamiles in their own homes for the holidays. Unlike you and your brother.

But as sad as you were for being here for the holidays, you had to assure yourself that at least you weren’t facing...The Dark Lord, or any of his minions, that at least you didn’t have to be a part of their mission to antagonize Harry and the Weasley family. At least you wouldn't have to carry that guilt….even if you did carry the guilt of knowing.

It was messed up.

You exhale deeply and just as the door opens to your common room, two familiar siblings walk out and cause Draco and you to stop in a brief stunned state.

“Clementine? Blaise?” You gasp as your eyes bounce from both Zabini siblings. “What are you two doing here? Why aren’t you home?”

Blaise sighs and rolls his eyes to avoid looking at either of you. “Clementine made us miss the train.”

Said girl grins smugly and places festive hats on your and Draco’s heads. “Yeah, and now we’re spending Christmas with the both of you. Isn’t that fourtunate?”

Draco and you both turn your heads to share knowing look over the fact that the Zabini's “accidentally” missed their train. But you don’t part your lips to complain, neither of you shared it, but you both appreciated that they had stayed behind to spend the holidays with you.

It was a blissful moment that your brother and you both wished would have lasted longer, instead of having to continue with the life you were living under Voldemort; instead of having to continue with your plan that each day got closer and closer to completion. You wished that you didn’t have to live with a guilt that with each passing day got heavier and weighed you down further into darkness, and made you much more distant.

“Is this seat taken?” You hear Harry Potter's voice ask.

You look from your books and then glance at the seat in front of you, continuing to nod and point. “Well it is now, isn’t it,” you say with a small smile.

Harry let out a small huff of air and took his seat, watching as you continued to do your schoolwork after he sat down. “I haven’t,” he interrupts the library’s silence, “I haven’t seen you all day, are you alright?”

“Mhm,” you hum, as you try not to look into his eyes so as to not give away the guilt ridden look that was spilled all over your face after you heard that...Ron almost died by a poisoned mead bottle. “Since it’s my last year here, I just have been busy trying to get everything done.” Your eyes flicker over to him, but you’re quick to look away from his blue eyes to pretend to concentrate back on your book, before you just bring the topic up without causing suspicion. “I heard about Ron from Hermione, how is he doing?”

“Well beside the matter that he almost died,” Harry remarked bitterly, the anger in his voice for the incident showing quickly. “He’s alright. It was just a scare.”

This time you meet his gaze and smile, “that’s good.” Your eyes shift back to your book and you mentally slap yourself for being so awkward after weeks of pretending that everything was alright. Harry of course, even if he was the chosen one, a special wizard, was oblivious to your emotions and dilemmas; thankfully.

Instead though he leads with something unexpected. “Can I ask you something?” Harry says as he leans forward.

You keep your eyes on your paper and nod, “sure.”

“Who's your mother?”

You freeze and feel your eyes widen a bit, you shift in your seat and slowly drag your eyes up to Harry, who looks at you curiously. Your mind instantly comes up with an answer to his question, ‘Narcissa’ of course, but you knew that’s not what he was looking for. Yet you also wished you had an answer to his question—“I don’t know,” you shrug as you drop your gaze to your arm resting on the table. “My father doesn’t like me bringing her up.”

You sigh and place your quill down to tilt your head and keep looking at Harry. “One time I asked about her, but he got angry that I did, he said that I was disrespecting Narcissa because she raised me since I was young. So I never asked again out of fear.” You look at the snake ring on your finger and scoff. “The only thing that he said was that she wasn’t worth it,” you shake your head and exhale deeply, noticing the guilt in Harry’s eyes and the way he kept shifting uncomfortably. “Narcissa’s sister, Bellatrix, though has a lot to say about her. She never mentions her name, or has anything kind to say, she just glares at me and says, “they were weak. Defector’s. She was a traitorous bitch.” And then she throws “discreet” comments at me when Narcissa isn’t around like, “the apple doesn’t fall from the tree.” Or here’s a good one,” you add a strained chuckle. “Be careful of snakes, just because you feed them doesn’t mean they won’t bite and spread their venom at the first chance they get.”

You sit up straight and just offer Harry an assuring smile as you see the complexity expressed in his face. He tries to part his lips to what you assume is apologize for creating such a thick tension and awkwardness due to the situation, but you just brush him off. “It’s alright though, I don’t let her get to me. I just listen.” You lean forward and knit your eyebrows together to ask, “why so curious though, Hmm?”

“Well,” Harry says nervously as he scratches the back of his head, “when Sirius was alive, he showed me this Family tree of the house of Black and…” Harry trails off and he inhales deeply, flickering his eyes to your hand on the table and back to you, creating an even thicker tension over your heads. He then proceeds to let out his breath shaky and slow, averting your gaze and muttering out what he was hesitating to reveal. “Your name was on the tree…” his eyes slowly slid to you to watch your face drop and lose all color within it. “I-I didn’t see who your mother might be though, I'm sorry. Unlike the others there wasn’t a portrait and it was secluded with just your name, and the branch your name was on was uh broken.”

You blink and sit back in your chair, maintaining your gaze on him even if your attention was miles away. His words raced in your head like an infinite loop, whilst other thoughts began to invade the perimeters of your head, but nothing was coherent, you didn’t know what to think. Your eyes clouded with tears, but not a single drop rolled down your cheek, you didn’t have the need to cry in fact, it was just the impact the news had within you. Which was also confusing.

All you did know to do was sit in silence with the dark cloud of confusion floating overhead.

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated as he reached for your hand, pulling back slightly as your hand flinched at the unexpected touch. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” you cut him off as you manage to focus your eyes on him. “It’s alright, you’ve said more about her than my father ever has.” You offer him a sweet smile and try to reach for this hand, but guilt thriddles you unable to do so. “Thank you, Harry, I appreciate it.” You pull your hands away and hide them inside your sleeves, pulling yourself back to sit slightly slouched as you interrogate him. “Why did you tell me now though? you’ve known for a year now.”

“Well because,” Harry sighs nervously, “it slipped my mind before...and during the holidays, Bellatrix attacked the Weasley house,” his gaze narrowed to expect you to be overly surprised and worried about the shared news, but you gave no such reaction. “And what I saw last year returned to me, and I couldn’t forget what I saw….I had to finally tell you.”

“Hmm,” you nod as you twist your ring around your finger. “Well...thank you, I suppose.” You stand from your chair abruptly with the intention to just wish him a good rest of the day. But you don’t get the chance as he jumps to his feet and stops you.

“Y/N wait.” He grabs your arm and you stay averting his saddened gaze. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before, I know.” He pulls you closer to him and keeps trying to meet your gaze. “But let me make it up to you. Let me ask Dumbledore, I’m sure he’ll know about your mother.”

You swallow thickly and blink away from looking at the carpet beneath your feet to slowly look up at him and show him a faint and forced smile. “Alright.” You try to pull your arm away to leave, but as you try, Harry pulls your arm to keep you close to him at the same time, the action you both did simultaneously causes your sleeve to tug back and show off the dark mark that was branded on your skin.

“I,” you stammer in horror as you yank your arm away and slowly step back from his stunned demeanor. “I, I’m sorry.” You whimper before you spin around to storm away hastily, striding down the halls and not daring to look back out of fear you’d see him, or someone else you couldn’t deal with at the moment.

The thoughts in your head raced faster, something that didn’t allow you to focus on anything whilst your heart also pounded within your chest to the point it felt like it hurt. Tears clouded your eyesight again, and this time they rolled down your cheeks. You had intended to run up to the bell tower, however, Harry found a way to cut you off before you could turn the corner to the bell tower stairs.

“Wait y/n, please.” He pleaded.

“No,” you snapped, “you found out, I didn’t want you to. Not like this, but you did and now,” you cry with no tears streaming down your face. “Now it’s all over.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Harry argued as he stepped towards you and caused you to step back towards a brick wall. “Come with me,” he offered you softly, “I can help. You can fight Voldemort alongside me, you don’t have to be scared anymore, you don’t have to hide.”

“Harry,” you plead in a cracked whisper. “Don’t,”

Harry steps towards you again, and again you step back to this time hit the wall with your back. “You’re a kind person, you’re brave and strong, far stronger than any of them.” He continues with his hand reaching yours, “I know you’ll be able to fight because you want to do what’s good.” Harry exhales slowly and tilts his head slightly to meet your watery gaze. “I’ll protect you too, just be with me.”

You let him grab your hand and get closer to you so you could muster the strength to question him. “Even if I’m a Death Eater? Even if I’m a monster who deserves to die?”

“You’re not a monster,” he assures you as he grabs both of your hands and slowly begins to slide his hand up to your cheeks. “And I don’t care if you're a death eater because I...I love you.”

Once again there's the beam of light within the cluster of darkness. You feel yourself running towards the light, the good and warmth. But the eerie and malicious darkness clawed at you, hooked onto your legs and dragged you back further down into the depths of the darkness. You tried to scream, but your mouth was slapped shut by hands covered in a thick and dark liquid. You tried to pull yourself back up, tried to fight, but more hands clawed at you, grabbing every part of your body and dragging you further and further back until the light was nothing but a gleam.

And just when you thought you were going to drown in the darkness, a faint light glowed in the corner.

An answer.

You break from your stupor, meeting his blue eyes and smiling softly as you cup his hands that were on your cheeks. “Let me think about your offer, okay? I wish it was easy to just say yes and run away, but it isn’t, you understand that?”

“Of course,” Harry nods, “of course I do. Think about it, I’ll wait.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as you gently press your forehead against his. “And will you ask Dumbledore about my mother?”

“I will,” Harry reassured you, “I promise.”

You smile, genuinely smile and thank him one last time.

——

As flattered, and happy as you were to hear those three words, the ease and blissfulness of hearing those words was short lived. Now Harry had your mind scrambled and divided between two choices; Joining Harry and leaving your family to live a life of more fear after being Voldemort’s runaway, or staying loyal to your family and not causing their deaths.

The choice should be easy. How could someone choose their family's lives over being selfish?

It shouldn’t be a choice.

Yet you treated it as one. And if you were going to choose running away, it had to happen fast now that Draco and you fixed the cabinet the day before. But—

“Y/N,” Clementine nudged your elbow, breaking you from your train of thought to look at where she was pointing at in the middle of the main hall. “Look,” she continues, “Katie Bell. Seems she’s finally better.”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as you feel your heart skip a beat as you watch the girl you had accidentally cursed, on her two feet and with a beating heart. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified that she was awake. Does she know who cursed her?

Going off the fact that you were still here, eating in the main hall alongside your classmates, you had to say no. But damn, It’s like you were living in a crazy dream, you had to blink a few times to make sure that she wasn’t some illusion your mind had created.

Katie Bell was in fact alive, parting ways from Harry’s side to join her friends at the end of the table.

“She’s lucky she’s alive,” Blaise comments, whilst your eyes remain on Katie Bell for a few seconds longer.

“I’m surprised she’s alive,” Clementine interjects. “Now all there is to wonder is who did it?”

Your eyes instantly snap to Clementine, at the sound of her comment before they bounce to Blaise as he scoffs and remarks the comment. “No one cursed her. She was just too nosy for her own good. Next time she shouldn’t be opening things that aren’t hers.” Blaise hissed, causing Clementine to just roll her eyes and argue something you didn’t catch as you barely caught Harry, chasing after Draco out of the hall.

Now you wouldn't have thought much of it, perhaps they were just walking out at the same time. But there was a way Harry looked with that scowl on his face and his wand in hand that led you to believe that as you brother stormed out in hurry, and Harry was not so far behind, that there was much more than met eye, a feeling that churned your stomach and made you stand from your seat with the intention to follow.

“Clementine,” you muttered as you began to step away from the table with your eyes still glued to the doors , “get Snape.”

Without waiting for a response you hurried out of the main hall, followed the echoes of hurried footsteps in a quick and desperate pace while you tried to ignore the sound of your pounding heart, and racing thoughts. You tried not to think of the worst and tried to remain calm. Yet you knew both boys, their dislike for one another and your mind couldn’t help but let the worst thoughts control your fear. You continued to hastily turn the halls, only to stop as you heard nothing and were left completely lost on where they could be. Of course you could take a swift guess, but that would be a waste of time if they weren’t there. However, you also couldn’t just stay behind...fuck. Fuck.

You rub your temple with your fingers and take out your wand to perform a spell that would find your brother and your boyfriend. Albeit as you did, as you parted your lips and raised your hand, the sound of nearby crashing pulled your attention to a location you were quick to run over to. Feeling more anxious than ever as your breathing got heavy with the panic coursing through your veins.

Those feelings only heightened as you turned the hall into the bathrooms, noticing the fog, and water that ran out of the room. You even hesitated inside a narrowed hall as an eerie silence had now taken over, you thought; maybe there isn't anything here, but as you slowly walked out of the hall, there he was, Harry, with his wand pointed at something you couldn’t see yet.

As you stepped further into the room, Harry turned his head your way as he heard your footsteps crash on the pool of water on the floor, and through the screen of fog, you noticed him drawn in a deep breath that he held in as you fell to his side and finally saw what he was pointing at.

“Draco?” You mumble in horror as you see him on the floor with blood leaking from parts of his body, and hear him sobbing quietly to himself.

“Draco!” You call again, this time your voice sounding more of a broken cry before you run forward to fall on his side. “I-oh-no, no, please,” you plead in a soft sob as your eyes rapidly scan his body as your mind tries to think of a solution. “Please Draco, please just stay awake.”

Said boy lifts his hand to reach for yours, his tears mixing with the water below him as they fell onto the surface. “Please, don’t leave,” he muttered with a quiver. “It hurts. It hurts.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and you drop your wand to the floor as you grab his cold and pale hand with your both hands, leaning closer to him to assure him. “I won’t, I won’t, I’m going to help,” you assure him as you try not to sob in front of him. “I,” you swallow thickly and flicker your eyes to look at Harry slowly approaching you with a friehngnred look on his face.

“Y/N,” he stammered out as he tried to reach for you. “I’m—”

“No,” you seeth as you glare up at him and pull your shoulder away from his hand. “Stay away.”

“But—” he tries before you sharply cut him off.

“I said leave,” you bellow, “I don’t need your help. You’ve done enough.” You shoot Harry one last raging glare before you return your attention to Draco, to once again think of a solution that didn’t come to mind to whatever Harry had done to him. “It’s okay,” you continue to assure Draco as you brush his hair back, “It’s okay,”

“It hurts,” he repeats quietly.

You bite the inside of your cheek and just as you were going to get angry at yourself for not being able to think of a single spell, more heavy and hurried footsteps sounded on the water. When you look up you see that it’s Professor Snape approaching, you instantly fill with relief.

He takes a moment to stare at Harry, who had remained inside the bathroom for a moment longer. Before he left, you could feel his stare on you, but you didn’t dare to look up at him, instead you stayed by your brother with your hand around his and tried to fight the urge not to cry and yell at Harry for what he did.

Instead you turn to Snape. “Can you help him?”

Said man's dark eyes turn to you and he nods stiffly, “of course.”

Snape doesn’t hesitate to start a spell that begins to heal Draco’s wounds and return the blood that had spilled out of his body.

You watch the red liquid slowly return to Draco, and feel calmer now that he wasn’t in danger, but find yourself looking at the spot where Harry had once stood.

It hurt to think, to know that Harry had hurt Draco, your own boyfriend had hurt your brother. No matter how much you knew they didn’t get along, you never thought Harry was capable of this. You knew that no matter how much Draco talked a big game, he wouldn't hurt Harry this way. And perhaps Harry’s stunned and terrified expression told a different story mere moments ago, but he still did it. He still hurt Draco, and that’s the worst thing he could possibly do.

It made your answer to his question from last night clear.

No.

You couldn’t and weren’t going to run away with him. No matter how much that had tempted you before.

Now you clearly knew as you returned your gaze to Draco still shaken up with fear and pain.

No.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence , @ilovespideyyy , @m3ssytrash , @hogwarts-babe, @yodaboo , @rafeyybabyy @itsoakaa

#Harry Potter #different light #Harry Potter and the half blood prince #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x malfoy!reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x reader #Draco Malfoy #fred Weasley #George Weasley #blaise zabini #professor snape

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gingerwritess · 4 years

Note

Heeey not that you have to do this but let me throw a wrench in the happiness and ask how would Loki act if there were complications during the birth? (If you hadn't already done this?)

i’m so mad at how long this took. Frigg’s birth. FINALLY. she’s been floating in existence for ages, now she can actually be BORN and i’m actually HAPPY WITH THIS

warnings: birth. death. life again. blood. crying. pain. general angst. a happy ending. complications and (spoiler) kind of child death, but only for a little bit. everything ends happily with everyone alive.

disclaimer: i am not a doctor. i have never given birth before nor delivered a baby. forgive me if this isn’t perfectly accurate. okay enjoy

Elliot is five now and Loki still can’t believe it; he’s raising a child. With someone. And honestly, doesn’t seem to have screwed anything up too badly so far.

I mean, he must be doing something right—he’s only about a month away from getting another one.

It was a…different pregnancy.

See, Elliot was right on time. His birth went as expected, he arrived the day before your due date, you went to the hospital, everything went smoothly (for the most part. Loki still won’t forgive himself for his own behavior, but you’ve been slowly working to mend that tear).

By the end of the night, you and Loki had a beautiful, tiny, healthy (blue) baby boy.

Your daughter—Sleipnir, you’ve jokingly decided to call her until you can settle on an actual name—still has about three weeks to go.

Everything has been heightened, with this one. The pains and aches are ten times worse, the cravings and morning sickness and drowsiness have reached catastrophic levels, and you’re huge.

You feel huge, ready to pop, which is only worse than the reality of the fact: this baby must be planning on being bigger than your first, plain and simple.

The days are dragging and so are you, slugging along towards the finish line when this baby finally decides she’s had enough. You move slower than the speed needed to feel useful in any way, shape, or form, and Loki does his best to slow to your speed, too—the two of you struggle out of the house every once in a while, a dashing prince and an upright snail with its shell on backwards.

“Any day now,” Loki always smiles. He says that from morning till night, he has been for the past two weeks. “Any day now.”

Then he kisses you and tucks you into his arms, a firm hold on your enormous belly until you get too hot and sweaty and annoyed being so close to him and wiggle away to kick the blankets off.

The nightmares started with four weeks until the due date.

After the first one you thought you were in labour, waking up in a cold sweat with a sharp pain in your stomach—you screeched and smacked Loki awake and Elliot came running—but a few moments of gaining consciousness reminded you that you had simply been stabbed, in your dream.

False alarm.

That’s okay, Loki had said, rubbing your back and kissing your temple, sound every alarm. Any day now.

Can’t wait to hug blueberry, Elliot had helpfully added.

A couple nights later you dreamt you managed to actually birth this child, but when the doctor handed her to you, she was nothing more than an unrecognisable lump of cerulean flesh. No eyes, no mouth, just something alive and pulsing with little pudgy arms that reached right for your face.

Loki had to wake you up from that one.

You’re screaming, he whispered. You’ll wake Elliot, is everything alright?

You burst into tears and made Loki put you back to sleep with a spell.

More and more nights passed and sleep became more and more scarce; every time you closed your eyes, some new horror would take place: you popped your belly with a needle and it flew around the room with the squeal of a deflating balloon, the baby was born beautiful but Loki couldn’t see her, Elliot yelled “blueberry!” and ate the baby, the baby was born made of solid ice and you dropped her, sending her across the floor in a trillion tiny shards of ice.

You decided on no more sleep.

Now with only a few more weeks until something has to happen with her, you’re massively sleep deprived and begging Loki to take you to Asgard for the birth.

“It’s too dangerous,” he says, pushing you back into bed. “The baby is too developed for that kind of travel while still inside you.”

He always says that.

Deep down you know he’s right, but you’re terrified and refusing to admit it. So you lay with your back turned to him every night and he lets you, knowing how mad you are, and just traces down your spine when he thinks you’re asleep.

You don’t sleep anymore, but you don’t say anything.

Three weeks until the due date and you can’t bear the exhaustion anymore, which has only coupled with a biting cold that follows you everywhere to make matters worse.

It is you, you know it, it’s inside you and you can’t escape it no matter how many blankets you hide under, and eventually you simply…slip away, off into a deep, freezing sleep that slows your heart and nearly stops your breathing altogether.

Something is hurting today, squeezing and pulling and punching. Maybe just your daughter eager to get into the world.

Huddled in one corner of the couch under an all-encompassing heap of blankets, neither Loki nor Elliot know where you’ve gone—mini-mountains of blankets have become the norm around the house—and they panic while you dream.

Oh, bliss.

You’re back in bed, warm, rested, empty, and staring into Loki’s mesmerising eyes.

“I love you,” you try to tell him, like you just came to that conclusion, but your voice comes out in a muffled gurgle, thick underwater. Another concentrated pain hits just then, but you ignore it.

He nods, slowly.

“Don’t leave me, Loki.”

This time, a shake of the head.

His hand finds your shoulder as your eyes immediately well with tears, a once comforting gesture that this time freezes your skin over with a biting ice. A pained whimper leaves your throat over the crackling of your frozen skin.

“Beautiful girl,” Loki finally whispers.

He brings his fist crashing into your shoulder, and your arm shatters into a million pieces.

Smiling, he flicks a piece of ice from the dip of your waist.

“Don’t break me,” you plead, unable to move but trying to wake yourself up. Just a dream, just a dream.

This time his hand cups your chin, fingers digging into your jaw as you freeze over and lose the ability to speak, and he leans closer, letting his lips brush your frozen ones: “beautiful, broken girl.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

His hand tightens one notch too tight and you shatter, half your face hollow and broken and melting in Loki’s palm.

You break beautifully, he whispers, and you feel yourself floating back towards consciousness. Hush, my sweet…shh…

Nearly to the surface but you’re still underwater, losing air and fighting to reach the top and you finally do, wrenching your eyes open to the light and gasping for breath.

Loki’s stroking a hand from your temple to your cheek, staring intently at you.

This is awake, you recognise, and Elliot pats your belly like a bongo, humming quietly to himself.

“Are you alright?” Loki moves more of the blankets over you; despite your sweating, you’re freezing. “I tried to bring you out of that one as fast I could.”

Yes, you want to say, thank you, but your throat is dry and you still feel like you’re underwater. Hell, your sweats still feel wet and you still feel broken.

Broken. Break.

Broke.

Still underwater.

You choke up a mouthful of water from the dream and grab a fistful of Loki’s shirt.

“My water broke.”

Loki blinks in stunned silence, Elliot sings “bum buh dum dum dum” and keeps patting your belly.

“That’s very clumsy of you, momma.”

“Now?” Loki asks incredulously, finally finding his voice. “It’s still too early—”

You shake your head, fingers scrabbling against his chest as your breathing quickens. “Now, Loki. Now, now.”

Now becomes a concept much too terrifying to accept—now is too early. Now is too soon.

Now should’ve been on Asgard, but now it’s too late.

Hospital, Loki hears himself suggesting, mind going numb at the thought of it. Hospital means driving and doctors and needles and cuts from paperwork and cold, drab white rooms with vomit pink curtains, a paper cup of water and sitting hard on the almost-linoleum floors.

The hospital would have been fine—in three weeks.

“No other option,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut and holding tight to your belly. “She’s not waiting for me.”

The first time you went through this process, your water broke at work and Loki was there in an instant, shouting at people to get out of your way while you giggled all the way down the elevator and into the car, too giddily excited for your baby to recognize much of the pain.

It helped keep Loki calm, too, allowing for him to drive to the hospital with few issues (maybe a little fast, but that was expected) and even as your contractions worsened and you slumped lower and lower in the passenger seat, you kept looking over at him and catching his eye. He’d lift his eyebrows—swerve around a corner—and you’d blurt out a laugh, cover your face with your hands, and take a few deep breaths.

This time, the smiles and excited laughter aren’t so present. Minus Elliot, whose mouth opens wider as he slowly comes to realise what the two of you are talking about.

His dad can’t quite seem to find the right angle to help you up—but you’re fighting against him, pushing his chest away instead of pulling him closer, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritting together.

Here, you ask, no…hospital—here? TAKE ME TO ASS-GARD—then you shout TRAITOR and break down in sobs, curling back around your belly.

“Elliot,” Loki smiles, a hand smoothing over your hip. “Could you give us a moment? I’ll call you if we need help.”

The little boy nods with a bright smile, flashing Loki a thumbs up before scurrying into the hallway—where he sits with his ear to the door, his head starting to throb.

“Take me to Asgard,” you hiss.

“I can’t.”

“TRAITOR!”

“It’s not safe—”

“This isn’t safe! She’s practically frozen to me, I’m—I’m so cold.”

Loki’s voice drops to a gentle murmur, only the mild timbre of his words making it through the door. Why do you hate me?? you’re crying, and nothing Loki says or does can console you, leaving Elliot on the other side of the door spiralling deeper and deeper into the worst of Loki’s panic and your rage.

His little hands start to shake and he takes a couple deep breaths, trying to ignore the gut-twisting pain shooting through his small frame.

“Momma?”

“I bet you planned this—”

“Mommy…”

His dad tries to soothe you but the pain is worsening and your daughter wants out, now. She’s moving quickly, an angry little thing already, not waiting for you.

“Just breathe, love. Just stand with me, let’s get you to the car—”

“Shut up,” you snap at Loki, stopping his sweet nothings and pointless reassurances in his throat. “Just have her here.”

Elliot tries to call for you again, trying to warn you because this already hurts and he got sent outside to feel your pain all alone, but you’re feeling it worse and more concentrated as Loki rushes to process what you’ve just asked of him.

“No, but the hospital—”

“Shut up,” you hiss through painfully gritted teeth. “Here. I can’t stand.”

“You would rather…” his hand stops on your hip and holds tight. “Here? Really?”

“You’re a god,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut as your daughter goes cold, “you know everything. I’m not gonna make it to a hospital. Get her out of me, Loki.”

—

Something cracks through the room amidst Elliot’s sobs.

“Fu—damn it,” Loki hisses, and wrenches his hand from yours.

Swollen and turning the most grotesque shade of yellowish-purple, his thumb is bending the wrong way.

“You broke my thumb,” he grunts from between your knees, blinking back tears.

It’s been years since anything actually hurt him, much less broke something, but you were shivering so violently and clutching onto his hand so tightly that it only took one push to make you snap his thumb.

“Sorry,” you choke, unable to find it in you to care too much. Later you’ll croon over him and kiss his bruises but for now, you’re pushing his child out of you. And she’s cold, so one finger can’t possibly be that bad.

The broken finger brings the whole birthing process to a quick pause as Loki scrambles to make some kind of splint for his thumb before getting back to you.

“Deep breaths,” he says under his breath, “deep breaths.”

Both of you follow his instructions, Loki’s lips moving rapidly in muttered incantations, trying to keep you from freezing over completely and the mess to a minimum, dull your pain, make this go as smoothly and correctly as possible.

A slumped, sobbing little pile on the other side of the door, Elliot has had to go forgotten for the moment. Three weeks too early, the baby is so tiny that the slightest wrong movement or slip in focus could end her life before it starts.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs when your head starts to roll limply back onto the floor. A deep breath splits him in two and he sends the duplicate to your side, already exhausted just from trying to keep you conscious enough to push.

“Keep breathing,” it whispers, stroking a hand along your frozen cheek, “almost there. Stay with me.”

Another push and you taste blood; must’ve bit your tongue amidst all the teeth chattering. Elliot goes quiet behind the door, then shrieks.

“MOMMA, BLOOD!”

“L-Lok—Elliot, get—”

“Shh, I’ve got him. Keep pushing, deep breaths.”

He hides his wince of pain and splits once more, sending a third bit of himself out the doorway to comfort the little boy while the other two keep trying to get this new baby into the world.

Your throat is closing in on itself, slowly but surely asphyxiating you and your fingers scratch at Loki’s broken hand, reaching for the real Loki, scratching his arm when no words will come out. He can only spare a single, quick glance up at your terrified face, eyes bloodshot and lips cracked from the dry iciness of the room.

Your head lolls, eyes rolling back in your head as you choke.

“Stay with me,” he pleads, squeezing your knee with a blood-covered hand. “Almost there.”

One last push and Loki shouts something in a language you can’t understand, but there’s a new weight pressing on your lower stomach for half a second, a blinding flash of blood-red light on the backs of your eyelids, and the world goes dark.

“No,” Loki croaks, and you hear one shrill, tiny cry from his arms, a heartbreaking sob from your son behind the door, and everything falls silent.

“No.”

—

She’s tiny.

Barely bigger than the palm of his hand.

The newborn should be squirming, should be crying and screeching in need of her mother, but she lays limp in Loki’s hands.

“No,” he whispers hoarsely. “No, no, breathe. Breathe.”

His fingers press gently on the slicked skin of her belly, once, twice, three times; he turns the tiny body on her side, trying again to get the little chest to lift with air.

No movement.

“No, nonono, no, no.”

A quick slice of the hand cuts the umbilical cord and it falls from her fragile neck. Loki cradles her close, staggering to his feet and holding her to his chest, bloody hands trying to bring the life back to her lungs and pressing her to his heart, trying to remind her’s how to function.

“Please,” he whispers, shakily running a hand over her tiny, slick head. “Stay with me, no, stay with me...”

You’re unconscious on the floor, lying in a pool of your own blood and Loki can’t be with you both, his duplicates phasing out of existence as he loses the strength to keep them up. Elliot yells again when the one he was with disappears, banging his little fists on the door, and Loki slumps against the far wall, staring at you with tears streaking his face.

You look dead. The baby in his arms is, and he can’t bring himself to look at her.

He hadn’t even gotten to see her eyes.

“Come back to me,” he pleads, trembling fingers running down her tiny body, ten toes, ten little fingers that should’ve curled around his, a little button nose and a dusting of dark hair on her head, blood on her cheeks.

Skin blue as the deep ocean, cold as a corpse.

“Breathe—”

Her fragile form presses against his chest and he holds her closer, trying to warm her, press her to his skin, to his pounding heart.

“Please. Breathe, breathe.”

The baby’s arm drops from his grip.

“No, no, stay with me…”

Should’ve gone to the hospital. Should’ve gone to the hospital.

It might be better if you don’t wake. He can’t face you after nine months of hell with nothing but a dead body to show for it.

Elliot’s finally given up. Loki can see him, lying in a heap against the crack under the door, silently shaking and staining the hardwoods with his tears.

His house falls silent.

For a moment he just sits there. Defeated. Alone. The tiny body of his daughter in his hands, your unconscious form bloodied on the floor.

Should’ve known better.

Frigga.

Frigga would’ve known better.

“Mother,” he chokes out, eyes closing as he cradles the lifeless baby to his heart. “Frigga. Allmother, all–all I had—help me.”

The last pleas fall into the silent house, soaking into the walls and fleeing through the windows as Loki repeats it, over and over and over:

Help us. Help us.

Let us have our daughter.

The very air in the room stills. Only dry sobs, with no tears left to spill break the brittle silence.

Don’t wake up, Loki finds himself hoping as he stares with an empty gaze at your unconscious body. I can’t explain this.

Elliot can feel it, he knows it hurts him, but it’s a good thing he can’t see this horrid scene, this murder scene in their home. His father slumped in a corner with dead eyes, a tiny, bloody baby limp in his arms. His mother in a pool of blood, unmoving.

Loki closes his eyes.

He’s seen enough.

Frigga. Please.

Silence.

Then, a tiny cough.

Another cough and the tiny body shudders in his hands, curling in on herself, little hands curling into fists, her mouth opens in the tiniest scream—

His daughter cries, and it’s the most beautiful sound Loki has ever heard.

“Oh,” Loki chokes, tears stinging his eyes, “oh, my—”

Cradling her to his heart, he finally breaks. He’s shaking, trembling, laughing and crying all at once as he listens to his daughter cry, feeling her tiny hands reaching blindly, her little belly lifting with each shaky breath.

“Loki.”

It’s a hoarse croak from across the room, and you manage to lift a hand towards him.

“Oh,” is all he can choke out again, “you—”

His laughter mixes with your daughter’s cries and he crawls towards you, clutching the baby to his heart and running a shaking hand over her to wash her with a spell.

“Frigg,” Loki whispers hoarsely, grabbing your hand with his free one, broken thumb be damned. “Can we name her Frigg? Frigga—Frigga saved—”

“Frigg,” you breathe, and Loki lays the wriggling newborn on your chest. “Frigg, oh, you’re perfect…”

Loki carefully helps prop your back up against the couch, clutching your hand and pressing his forehead to yours, eyes clenched shut.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Frigg. A perfect name for the perfect child, a tiny, mewling little girl clutching at your chest and Loki can’t look away, stunned by the ease with which she shifts to her more human form when you cradle her close.

Kneeling by your side, your hand in his clutched to his heart, he keeps his forehead against your temple and sends a silent thank you to the only mother he ever knew.

“Loki,” you murmur, the baby nuzzling against your neck, “she’s so beautiful. So beautiful.”

He can only choke out another teary laugh, nodding and squeezing your hand, not ready to let go yet as he kisses your forehead.

A quiet moment passes just soaking in the fact that your little girl is breathing, you staring at her tiny movements while Loki lets himself catch his breath against your cheek. Right now, he can’t hold you tight enough.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Frigg and catch sight of Elliot laying against the crack under the door, and a pang of guilt twists your heart.

“Loki,” you whisper, reaching up to stroke his tearstained cheek, “Elliot. Go get Elliot.”

He nods, eyes still tightly shut as he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you with a sharp inhale, breathing you in. When his eyes open, they have a new spark to them and he pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head with another disbelieving laugh at the sight of his wife and his daughter, alive, together, breathing, hearts beating.

“Elliot,” he finally calls out, turning to open the door and stopping short when he sees his son curled up on the floor. “Elliot. Oh, kærr, come here.”

He bends and scoops the little boy into his arms, hugging him close as Elliot buries his face in Loki’s neck.

“You have a new sister,” Loki softly tells him, rubbing his back and carrying him over to you. “What do think of the name Frigg?”

Your son just sniffles and hugs Loki tighter, not letting go even when Loki carefully sits besides you and Frigg, conjuring a warm blanket for the newborn.

“I know it’s not Blueberry,” you add, carefully wrapping her and keeping her as close as possible for the most body heat. “But I think it’s pretty good. What do you think, kiddo?”

“S’like gramma,” he sniffs, little voice muffled in Loki’s neck. “Right?”

Loki manages another laugh. “Right. Frigg. Just like gramma.”

Elliot eventually lifts his head, rubbing his red eyes with the back of his hand and leaning against Loki’s chest, staring at his new sister.

“She’s real little.”

“She’s early,” you reply with a smile, thumb stroking over her soft head. “She should’ve been here next month, but she got too excited to meet her brother and couldn’t wait.”

A tiny smile tugs at Elliot’s mouth.

“Hi, Frigg.”

Loki catches your gaze, the softest of smiles playing at his lips.

“I’m gonna be your brother,” Elliot continues quietly, and sits up on Loki’s lap to look at Frigg a little closer. “You’re so tiny. Can I hold her?”

You chew your lip, glancing back up at Loki. “She needs all the warmth she can get right now, what do you think…?”

Loki just nods, carefully taking the bundled baby from your arms, laying a hand on her head as it glows gold. “I’ll take care of that,” he replies, and brushes his lips gently over her head. “Sit down here, Elliot, right next to mom.”

Elliot does, scrambling to sit crisscross against your side, arms reaching for Frigg. “Ready, ready.”

“Careful,” Loki warns him, gently placing the newborn in Elliot’s arms. “Support her head, right, keep your arm just like that.”

Elliot’s cheeks are puffed out as he holds his breath, focused strictly on perfecting the way to hold his baby sister, staring at her tiny nose and shut eyes.

Not bothering to hide your smile, you lean in close, your hand under his arm to help support her head, just in case. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Elliot lets out his breath slowly, brows furrowing.

“Nah, not really.”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot to his hair and you burst out laughing.

“She’ll look completely different in a couple weeks,” you laugh, planting a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “She’s about to get really, really cute, don’t worry.”

Smiling softly, Loki shifts around to sit on your other side, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning over to kiss your temple. “She is beautiful,” he whispers, stroking the back of one finger over her tiny cheek. “She is. We made that.”

“Frigg,” you whisper back. In the arms of your son, she sleeps quietly, tiny eyes shut tight. “Thank you, Loki. For everything.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it.

The makeshift splint on his broken thumb rubs rough against your skin.

“Loki!” You grab his hand and he winces. “Your thumb, oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” he laughs.

“No, it’s not, oh my god, I’m so, so sorry—”

“My first broken bone in a thousand years.” A finger under your chin, he tips your head up and catches your lips with his. “I’d say it was worth it.

― ― ― ―

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loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @the-republic-and-face-of-texas

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#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki reader insert #loki x pregnant!reader #daddy!loki #loki fluff #dad!loki #domestic!loki #loki angst #elliot lokason #frigg lokadóttir #loki fanfiction

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seanfalco · 4 years

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Wedding Date | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 2152 Prompt: [I need a date for this wedding +/or There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling] for Nathan or Klaus or Diego whichever combo you think works best or inspires you most lmao i’m gonna leave it up to you bc you have the good good and i humbly leave my life in your hands w this request🤭 Requested by: @jynandtonics a/n: I deliberated over who to write this for because each character had a very different scenario come to mind (and honestly I still might write the Nathan one later lol) Thank you for this prompt! I hope you enjoyyy! Also obviously, this is part of the PwF’verse, pre-Playing with Fire.

——

It was one of your “off-again” periods, Klaus couch surfing with other people, but you’d be damned if you showed up at your one normal friend’s wedding alone. So, you knew what you had to do. Swallowing your pride, you asked him to meet. You needed a date to this fucking wedding if it killed you and strangely enough the thought of asking anyone else didn’t appeal to you in the slightest.

It would be infinitely easier to ask someone else, hell, even Diego would have probably gone with you if you’d asked him, but damn if you ever made anything easy for yourself.

It definitely wasn’t because you missed Klaus. No, certainly not because of that.

“Heyyyy [Y/N],” he exclaimed, seeming genuinely happy to see you as he scooted into the booth across from you.

“Hey Klaus,” you replied, instantly drawn in by his effortless charm, your heart filling at the sight of him.

“It’s really good to see you,” he murmured, plopping his chin in his hands, arms resting on the table between you and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“It’s good to see you too,” you found yourself saying, your traitorous heart noticing all the tiny details you missed, all the things you loved about him.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Klaus asked, pulling you from your thoughts. If he felt guilty about going off on his own again he didn’t show it.

You heaved a sigh, bringing the mug in front of you to your lips as a play for time, if only a couple seconds. “I have a bit of a favour to ask,” you answered and Klaus cocked a brow, leaning forward intently.

“I see,” he intoned playfully, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, or perhaps just the promise of getting something in return — you weren’t sure which. “And what sort of favour are we talking here?” he wondered aloud.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for his inevitable rejection and met his eyes.

“I need a date for a wedding.”

Whatever Klaus had expected you to ask, this clearly wasn’t it.

“What?” he spluttered, faltering, “like suit and tie, you may kiss the bride wedding wedding?” Leaning back, he stroked his goatee, “and you wanna go with me?”

“Y’know what, uh, forget it,” you muttered quickly, running a hand down your face, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll just ask… someone else.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” Klaus exclaimed, holding up his hands and you hesitantly uncovered an eye to peer at him.

“I didn’t say no,” he pointed out and a thoughtful look stole over his face, followed by that smile that never failed to make you slightly weak in the knees.

“Sure, why not. Besides, I don’t want you to ask anyone else.”

——

You weren’t sure how you’d pulled it off with only a couple days left til your friend’s wedding, but somehow you’d managed to find a suit that fit Klaus, and the day of, as you showed up on his arm, he actually looked presentable and not as if he’d just woke up from a bender and rolled off the couch ten minutes ago.

Glancing over at you Klaus’s eyes flicked quickly down and back up, a grin tugging at his lips. “Wanna know something?” he asked, leaning close to whisper in your ear. “You look absolutely ravishing, the bride who?” he teased and you fought back a giddy grin of your own.

“I think you’re a little biased,” you murmured back and Klaus merely shrugged.

“Maybe so,” he admitted, but his hold on your arm as you walked in seemed tighter than before and he eyed anyone askance if their gaze seemed to linger on you too long for his liking.

The rest of the ceremony was a bit of a snoozefest, though your heart gave a small flutter every time you caught Klaus watching you, and as the couple exchanged their vows, Klaus covered his mouth, looking a little teary eyed. When they finally kissed he let out an excited gasp, grabbing your hand as he leaned into you.

“Awwww! I always get so choked up at weddings,” he exclaimed with a dreamy sigh as you watched the newlyweds make their way back down the aisle and you rested your head on his shoulder, wearing a soft smile.

——

Sitting at your table at the reception, you let your eyes wander the dancefloor, watching your friend and his new bride dance, their eyes never leaving each other and you wondered what it would be like to one day have that.

Interrupting your thoughts, Klaus returned, two drinks in hand and you took yours with a faint smile, sipping it to take away the sting of such thoughts. After a few minutes Klaus eyed you thoughtfully.

“Wanna dance, my dear?” he asked, holding out his hand in invitation.

Eyeing it, you tipped back the rest of your drink before taking his hand, letting him pull you out to the floor. It almost felt as if the two of you had never been apart and if you weren’t slightly tipsy you probably would be cursing yourself for letting him back in so easily.

Spinning you into his arms, Klaus laughed, his eyes crinkling with mirth and you felt your breath catch, your head swimming, and you held onto him tighter.

“I’m glad you asked me to be your date tonight and not someone else,” he admitted, his eyes carefully avoiding yours.

“Oh?” you asked, but before you could get a response your friend tapped you on the shoulder.

“Think I could cut in?” he asked and Klaus ducked his head, stepping back.

“Ah, ah, ah, hands where I can see ‘em now, and no funny business mister,” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at him, though his grin somewhat ruined the effect.

“I would never,” your friend gasped in faux offense, cracking a smile moments later and the two seemed to come to a silent agreement, sizing each other up.

“Guess this means I get to dance with the bride,” Klaus joked, clapping your friend on the shoulder.

Before swanning away he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and you watched him, dazed, your mouth falling open slightly as he headed toward the bride. Blinking, you tore your eyes from Klaus’s retreating form and you noticed your friend watching you, an amused expression on his face.

“What?” you demanded, but he only laughed, shaking his head ruefully as he held out his hand for you to take, placing his other hand on your waist.

“Nothing,” he assured you, but the smile he wore said otherwise.

“Out with it,” you insisted wryly as you slowly spun and swayed to the music.

“It’s just nice to see you this happy,” he answered.

“Mhmm,” you mused skeptically, waiting for the rest.

“I just want you to be careful,” he continued, his eyes finding his wife and Klaus across the dancefloor, Klaus dancing rather animatedly and making her laugh. “I know you’ve been carrying a torch for him for years, and he certainly is charming,” he observed.

“He certainly is,” you agreed softly, and when Klaus turned, catching your eye, he flashed a smile and waved, your heart clenching.

“I just don’t want you to let him hurt you again,” your friend finished and you sighed, turning back to him.

“Yeah, me either.”

——

“I think we should think about finding somewhere to stay tonight,” Klaus suggested as you swerved again and he caught the steering wheel.

“No, I’m fine, Klaus, really,” you tried to assure him, but your words slurred and Klaus shook his head.

“Usually I’m a fan of bad ideas,” he muttered, “but not this one. I think there was a motel somewhere along this stretch of road,” he mused.

“Motel?” you asked, “I dunno about that…” Unsure if you trusted yourself, your very drunk self not to make any decisions you might regret the next morning.

Keeping Klaus at arm’s distance was harder than you thought, especially when he looked like that and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

“Ah, there!” he pointed, and you reluctantly pulled off the road into the half empty parking lot, your vision swimming dangerously.

Okay, maybe he had a point.

“There you go,” he said, “we’ll get some rest and head back in the morning.”

“Look at you being the responsible one for a change,” you slurred.

“Ah ha, well. I don’t really care if anything happens to me, but you…” he trailed off, shaking his head, continuing in a murmur you weren’t meant to hear. “If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

Helping you out of the car, Klaus led you to the motel office and asked to book a room. The receptionist looked you both over and grinned sleazily. “Unfortunately I only have single rooms available,” he said when you insisted on a double, trying to forget the hurt look in Klaus’s eyes.

“That’s fine,” you growled, snatching the key from the man, irrationally annoyed at the universe and it’s sense of humour.

Inside the room you turned your back to Klaus as you slipped off your dress and when you turned back around you found him still struggling with his tie and you clicked your tongue, forgetting you were half naked as you circled the bed to stand in front of him, swatting his hands away to help loosen his tie; your fingers automatically falling next to the buttons at his throat.

Swallowing, Klaus pointedly kept his chin up and his eyes on your face, though you almost wished he’d look anywhere else, his dark rimmed emerald eyes rather distracting and as his hands brushed yours to finish unbuttoning his shirt, you realized just how close to him you were, your cheeks heating swiftly.

Retreating to the other side of the room once more, you crawled under the covers, scooting as far away from the center of the bed as possible. However when you felt the mattress shift, Klaus crawling into the bed as well and you felt his back touch yours, you held your breath. After several minutes of awkward silence you heard Klaus sigh.

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Taking a deep breath yourself, you answered him. “You know I don’t like it when you just leave like that.”

Klaus shifted behind you, but you didn’t dare look back.

“I know,” he said softly, the room falling into silence once more and you were thankful you were still buzzed because it meant sleep came faster than usual.

——

Stirring, the first thing you noticed was the warmth. As you began to wake more, you noticed the comforting sensation of being held; two strong arms surrounding you and you subconsciously snuggled closer, slotting yourself in where you fit so perfectly. And when you finally opened your eyes, you gave a start, finding yourself in Klaus’s arms, your head resting on his warm chest, and your legs tangled together with his.

You didn’t remember even turning toward him, but apparently some time in the night you’d both sought each other; the thought of which made your chest ache.

Before you could attempt to untangle yourself from Klaus’s embrace, however, he took a deep breath, his long eyelashes fluttering as he woke and he looked down at you, rather unsurprised.

“Well, good morning,” he moaned, stretching slightly before curling around you once more, resting his chin atop the crown of your head. “D’you think they have room service here?” he asked, as if he didn’t find this situation unusual in the slightest.

“What?” you asked, shifting to look up at him.

“I could totally go for some breakfast right now, but I’m too comfortable to get up--”

“Klaus,” you murmured weakly, feeling yourself slip, your residual anger at him dissipating in the light of morning.

“-- and we should really get some food in that booze filled belly of yours,” he continued.

Of course he had to go and be an absolute sweetheart when you were trying to keep your distance and not fall for him all over again.

Realizing you didn’t want to fight it any longer, you sighed, letting yourself fully relax into his embrace and Klaus smiled softly, feeling the difference, slowly running his fingers soothingly through your hair.

“Yeah, that does sound good,” you agreed. “Did you sleep well?” you asked, tilting your head back to nuzzle your nose against his jaw.

“I always sleep better when I’m with you, you know that,” he said, squeezing you tighter.

“Yeah?” you murmured sleepily, “then why don’t you stay at my place for a bit then when we get back?”

“I’d like that,” he replied.

#the umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagines #tua klaus #prompt request #jynandtonics #my writing #PwFverse

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r-redex · 3 years

Text

A Way Out Snip 2

This is a longer one that I took from the beginning of a fix-it fic I had planned. I can’t remember exactly why I abandoned it--I think it was too long to keep my attention. Anyways, I have some other excerpts from this particular one that I might post at a later date. Enjoy :))

In which Vincent tells the truth.

They barely make it out alive. Vincent’s hands are white-knuckled on the handlebars of his bike, and all he can hear is shouting and gunfire and the roar of his blood in his ears. The greenery zipping by is all the same, but he knows that they’re only minutes away from the plane. His eyes cut over to Leo without thinking, and—

—and he’s falling, the bike spilling on its side, pinning him under it. The trucks are closing in, but he can hear Leo yell clear over the noise.

“Vincent!”

He looks up. Leo’s stopped short a few feet away, still holding his gun.

“Get on the fucking bike!” he shouts.

It snaps him to attention, and he pulls himself out from under the wrecked bike, narrowly avoiding a bullet to the shoulder as he sprints to Leo. The bike takes off the second he’s on, and he hooks an arm around Leo’s waist so he can turn and fire at their pursuers.

“We’re close!” he hears Leo yell above the wind. He doesn’t register the words at first, but he recognizes the terrain: they’re almost at the rendezvous.

Leo’s stomach starts shaking under his arm, and he panics for a second before he realizes that Leo’s laughing. He’s laughing into the wind—a loud, ecstatic noise—and Vincent can feel the moment when his entire world stops.

In a split second, he realizes that he can’t be the one to take this away from Leo. He isn’t going to destroy that sound, this feeling, this man.

He shatters in an instant.

“Go right!”

Leo stops laughing. Vincent glances to their left, through the quickly thinning trees, heart pounding in his throat as he looks for any sign of a plane.

“But aren’t we—”

“Go right, off the road! Trust me!”

Trust me.

And Leo does. Without a second’s hesitation he yanks on the handlebars, sending them veering sharply onto a narrow dirt path bordering a sharp dropoff. The trucks are still following them, but Vincent keeps his grip tight around Leo and keeps shooting.

“Where are we going?”

Vincent swallows hard.

“Anywhere. We need to get away from that plane.”

He feels Leo start to tense, but he just grips tighter and shoots another round before yelling again.

“Just do it, Leo!”

Before Leo can reply, Vincent gets a lucky shot. The lead truck—the only one small enough to follow them into the brush—swerves wildly as the front tires are blown out at once, before veering off the path. He can hear the grinding crunch of metal over the roar of the bike.

“Stop!” he shouts, and Leo does, dust and dirt flying up as they skid to a halt. Vincent dismounts quickly and gestures for Leo to do the same.

“Throw the bike down there,” he instructs, pointing down the drop, already stripping his jacket and vest off.

Leo’s panting from the adrenaline, giving him a wary look.

“Are you gonna tell me—”

“Goddamnit Leo, we don’t have much time!”

Sensing his urgency, Leo sets his jaw and nods. The bike is tossed down the cliff, along with their vests and jackets.

“We need to go,” says Vincent. He starts forward, but Leo blocks his way.

“Vincent, you just threw away our whole plan out of nowhere. You mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”

Vincent hesitates, glancing around. They aren’t as far from the rendezvous point as he would like to have this conversation—though, he supposes that there’s really nowhere they could have it that would feel safe. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, thoughts racing as he tries to weigh his options.

“Vince?”

Leo’s staring at him, looking more uncertain the longer he’s quiet. Vincent sighs again, dropping his gun to his side.

“Listen. I need you to hear me out all the way through before you freak out. Please.”

Leo’s already starting to back up. He’s tensed like he’s ready to strike, like a snake in the grass.

He’s not the snake out of the two of us, Vincent thinks dully.

“Emily’s a cop.”

Leo’s breath hitches, and Vincent clenches his teeth so hard that it feels they might crack. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the gun in his hand, and he decides to drop it and nudge it away with his foot.

Leo’s voice is tight when he speaks, brimming with uncertainty. “And...how did you find this out?”

Vincent clenches his fists.

“Because I’m a cop too.”

A suffocating silence falls over them, blocking out the noise of the jungle. Vincent watches as Leo’s face changes—from confusion, to shocked realization, to a slow, dawning horror—and he feels like his heart is cracking.

“You…” Leo stops and shakes his head as if he’s clearing it. “You’re...no, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” He can’t look at Leo’s face anymore, so he fixes his eyes on the gun he’s gripping with white knuckles.

“I’m undercover—well, I was. My job was to get close to you, help you break out, and kill Harvey. They’ve been trying to pin him for years, and they’d almost had him when he shot an officer—my brother, Gary—and escaped. That was when they took you in. They didn’t want me on the case, but I...I was so wrecked after my brother died that I didn’t care. I wanted Harvey dead, and I wanted to be the one to do it.”

Leo’s hand is shaking on his gun, and Vincent has to close his eyes.

“They’re waiting for us in California. They’re going to arrest you again, and add time for prison break and everything else. You wouldn’t get out for years.”

There’s a sharp, familiar click, and Vincent opens his eyes to stare down the barrel of a gun. Leo’s face is pale, but he looks enraged, teeth clenched and eyes burning with hatred.

“You fucking piece of shit,” he hisses, voice thick with rage. Vincent doesn’t deny it; it’s the truest thing that’s been said about him in weeks. Maybe in his entire life.

“You fucking pig. You set me up, made me do your dirty work—I trusted you, you—”

He cuts himself off and pulls the gun away, throwing it to the side and lunging at Vincent. They both fall to the ground; Leo’s fists flying, Vincent struggling under him.

“Leo—”

“NO!” Leo shouts, and Vincent cries out as he lands a solid hit to his nose.

“You traitor! You lying pig!”

“Leo—”

“I can’t fucking believe—after all the shit we went through, you were lying, you were gonna turn me in, you fucker—you’re dead, I swear, you’re—”

“LEO!”

The urgency in his voice must catch him off guard, because he falters for a split second—long enough for Vincent to grab his wrists and twist out from under him, spinning and slamming Leo to the ground.

“There isn’t time,” he hisses. “Emily’s going to come looking for us sooner or later; we need to move.”

He loosens his grip and braces for a hit, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Leo shoves him off before standing, grabbing his arm and yanking him none-to-gently to his feet.

“If I think for a second that you might even be considering screwing me over, I will put a bullet through your fucking skull.”

Vincent sets his jaw, but he holds Leo’s gaze as he nods shortly. He doesn’t doubt Leo’s promise in the slightest.

[end]

#a way out fanfic #leo caruso/vincent moretti #vincent x leo #swearing cw #angst #kinda #snips #a way out snip #snip

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true-blue-megamind · 3 years

Text

Daylight and Dark Ch. 3 - Ares

Photo by Joe Waranont

Some Yuletide silliness and... At last! Enter the villain!

CHAPTER RATING: Teen; FULL FICTION RATING: Explicit. WARNINGS FOR ENTIRE WORK: violence, sex, language, references to prior domestic abuse, and rock n’ roll! CHAPTER WARNINGS: brief description of violence.

There is nothing NSFW in this chapter, but it is a bit long, so I am adding a Click Here to Keep Reading link. You can also read the entire entire fiction HERE.

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

There were moments in life when Roxanne couldn't help but think about perspective: about how funny it was that a person could never clearly see the road to their destination until that destination had been reached. She'd felt that way one bitter winter morning, in her office, when she had suddenly realized that she was becoming one of those sentimental hack reporters she'd always hated. She'd felt that way on the long-ago windy spring afternoon when she had finally understood that she would never have feelings for Metro Man, and she'd felt it on the early summer day last year when she'd learned, to her own surprise, she was in love with his former nemesis. Roxanne had that same feeling tonight. Stepping out of the taxi Megamind had insisted on paying for she'd immediately been met by three brainbots, two of which immediately took charge of her small suitcase. Greeting them with pats, she had walked the last block through the biting December chill with her unusual escort bowging at her heels. The little cyborgs had darted away once their charge reached Megamind's invisible doorstep, probably to inform their master of her arrival. Now she stood alone and stared at a cross-stitched sampler, hung incongruously beside what appeared to be a solid wall, which read: "Lair Sweet Lair" in slightly crooked letters. What was he up to?

That September afternoon on the balcony, after the first night they'd made love, had been a turning point in Roxanne and Megamind's relationship. She had expected that, of course, but now that she had arrived at this still-mysterious milestone in her life, something in the back of her mind teased that it had been even more important than she'd realized. They had shared deep, personal sorrows, hidden from all other eyes, and an impenetrable glass wall had been removed. She realized, at this moment, that something undefinable had happened as well. Ever since that day, something had begun building between them, unnoticed and unspoken, creating a channel into which two spirits were poured and mingled. Try though she might, however, that something refused to slide into focus. It was both elating and terrifying, for Roxanne had not fully expected the cozy intensity that she and Megamind had found. How was it possible to feel so relaxed, so at home, around someone that being near him was like snuggling into a favorite sweater, while still feeling so powerfully and passionately attached to that same person that he made you antsy, strangely warm, and a little nervous? How was it even possible to feel simultaneously self-conscious and comfortable in the first place?

The oddity of those emotions was disconcerting enough, but worse still was the fact that Roxanne had realized that she no longer loved solitude, because solitude meant Megamind wasn't around. True, she still enjoyed many of the same quiet hobbies— reading books, binging sci-fi movies, solving crossword puzzles—but now she was only happy if a certain blue alien was beside her, busily sketching design schematics for his latest invention, or pointing out in hilariously descriptive detail why a particular piece of film prop "space tech" wouldn't actually work at all. She had always disdained those couples who seemed to be attached at the hip: the sort that showed up to every party together and skipped any function one of them couldn't attend. Now it seemed she was becoming half of one. Worst of all, she didn't mind. She liked it. She was sublimely happy with it.

What is wrong with me?

She and Megamind had fallen into an easy rhythm as serene and unquestioning as the deepest friendship, yet had retained all the fire and ardor of a new infatuation. A traitorous little voice in her head asked if this was the way people felt before they got married, moved to the suburbs, gained ten pounds, and started daydreaming about babies. She refused to listen, refused to even consider the possibility of leaving chic professionalism for matrimonial doom, but that same little voice reminded her that it wouldn't be so bad as long as it was with Megamind. Despite all her denials, Roxanne had to admit that something new had grown between herself and her favorite hero, inching up, bit by bit, undetected, until suddenly she noticed it was all around her. Small kindnesses, shared moments, camaraderie, and passion had all built into something beautiful, strange, and a little scary.

Which is what brought her to tonight and her current situation, as she stood shivering in the winter evening, looking at that foolish sampler and wondering why the sight of it set alarm bells ringing in her head. Megamind had invited her over, insisting that he had a Christmas gift that couldn't wait for Christmas, and she had not considered the oddity of the date until this moment.

Why now? Why tonight?

That was it. Roxanne's eyes widened with a realization that should have been obvious. Today was December 12th. Exactly eighteen years ago Margaret Ritchi, Roxanne's mother, had taken a turn too quickly, swerved on icy pavement, and ended her life. Although it wasn't unusual for Roxanne to visit her lover in the middle of the week, it was unlike Megamind to ask her over at a specific time, especially when she had just gotten back into town, tired after a business trip, which indicated that he probably had something planned. It would be exactly like him to researched old traffic incidents just so that he could invite her over to cheer her up on the anniversary of her mother's death.

The question was, was he just planning on distracting her from her memories, or did he have something more serious in mind?

"Miss Ritchi," Minion appeared through the hologram wall, less than two feet away from Roxanne. She had to crane her neck up to look into the fishy face set atop his six-foot-tall robotic body. "Miss Ritchi, if you please, could you come inside? He's been watching you on the monitor for ten minutes and he's starting to worry."

"Oh, I… Of course. I'm sorry Minion. I just—"

It was always odd watching a fish smile. "No apologies needed. Just come inside before you freeze."

He ushered her through with the wave of a metallic arm, and Roxanne stopped so suddenly that he nearly crashed into her as he followed.

"Oh, my…"

Garlands. The Evil Lair was strung with garlands of faux evergreen twigs, plastic holly, and red and gold ribbons. Multiple strings of colored lights, hung with no apparent order or plan in mind, blinked, chased, and sparkled in crisscrossing lines until the flashing dials and blinking buttons in the workroom looked like no more than additional decorations. In the middle of the yuletide chaos stood a massive Christmas tree, its top nearly lost in the shadows of the high ceiling. Brainbots hovered and buzzed around it, trimming it in a haphazard fashion that Roxanne suspected explained the random order of the rest of the decorations. Most of the items being hung on the tree were normal— glass balls, silvery snowflakes, diminutive, jolly Santas— but every now and again a brain bot added a shiny bit of wire or a large metal nut. Christmas carols were blaring from the nearby stereo.

"Roxanne! What do you think?" Megamind's happy voice startled her from her contemplation. He jumped down the last two industrial steps leading up to the second floor, his face glowing with good cheer and one arm sweeping out proudly to indicate the scene. Roxanne turned her eyes back to the seasonal décor and the happily buzzing robots. After the initial shock, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, it was almost cute, like the messy decorations of enthusiastic children.

"It's wonderful," she answered, turning back to her lover with a genuine smile.

He beamed at her. "I'm so glad you like it! And look," he added with a sly smile. "We've got rocket-toe!"

"Mistletoe, silly," Roxanne smiled, leaning up to give him a soft kiss.

"Rocket, missile, what does it matter? Missiles have rocket propulsion systems."

"Uh-huh," Roxanne's expression was all wry amusement.

"The early Soviet Vostok rockets were based on the R-7 ICBM," Megamind informed her. "So I can see no reason whatsoever why rocket-toe should be any less—"

"Megamind?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's still called Mistletoe."

"Potato, tomato, potato, cucumber," he answered with a teasing grin.

Roxanne laughed. "Cucumber? Really? Why cucumber?"

"Well, they both grow on vines. Yet tomatoes are technically fruits while cucumbers are vegetables."

Roxanne laughed. "I always thought that was kind of weird. I mean: why?"

"They're gourds."

"What?"

"Cucumbers. They're gourds."

"Megamind, I was talking about the tomatoes-are-fruits thing."

"Ah, well, botanically, they're ripened flower ovaries that contain seeds, and—"

"Sir—" interjected Minion.

"And this will really blow your mind: so are zucchinis!"

"Sir—"

"Think about it: cucumbers and zucchinis, so similar yet so different."

"Sir! Didn't you have something to show Miss Ritchi?"

"Oh! Of course!" his face lit up, and he grabbed Roxanne's hand. "Come up! You'll love this! Wait until you see the dining room!"

"Dining… But you don't have a—"

"We do now! Follow me!"

He pulled her bodily past the command room and back up the metal stairs, her surprise growing with every step. The conference room near the kitchen— which had never seemed to serve much purpose since any meetings involved only Megamind, Minion, and, during the last several months, Roxanne— had, indeed, been transformed into a cozy dining room. Another garland swagged across the doorway, and a dark wood table, set as if in expectation of a festive meal, displayed a centerpiece of holly and ribbons surrounding three crème-colored candles. Beside the industrial stairs leading to the third floor— their banisters also bedecked in Yuletide fashion— the plain bathroom that had once served the offices over the factory had been updated and expanded. It looked as if it belonged in a wealthy grandma's house— if Granny had decided to go Goth. A largely unused, cavernous storage space had been turned into a sitting room. It proudly boasted not only a black leather sofa, matching recliner, and built-in dark wood bookshelves stuffed with second-hand volumes, but also an old-fashioned pot-bellied stove that Roxanne was almost certain was against fire codes. In one corner, a more elegantly decorated Christmas tree— probably Minion's work— stood glittering with white lights and antique glass ornaments.

Even that wasn't the most shocking addition to the new living space, however.

"Megamind, there aren't any external walls here. How on earth did you put in windows?"

"Isn't it great?!" he threw himself into the chair, grabbed a remote control from a side pocket, and aimed it at the window. Instantly the view of Metro City Beach was replaced by a forested mountain range.

"It's absurdly simple, really: just a high-definition plasma monitor that I mounted behind framed glass and connected to video feeds that I've had set up in various locations! That conversation we had last autumn about your apartment windows gave me the idea. Look! If you don't like the view, you just change the scenery with a press of a button!"

He clicked the control a couple of more times, bringing up a snow-covered prairie, a quaint French village, and a tropical reef.

"Minion picked out the last one," he explained. "It also interfaces with the supercomputer, so you can use it for research, calls… Look, the frames retract for a better view!" he demonstrated. "Then you push this button, and... voila!" A holographic keyboard had appeared in midair above the remote. Megamind set the device down, and, to Roxanne's astonishment, began typing. A browser popped up on the "window," and he navigated to a video featuring winter scenery to the accompaniment of a Boston Pop's Christmas album.

"Megamind, that's really amazing," Roxanne managed. "All of this is, really... I mean, you've made it so—" she almost said "homey," but bit back the word and finished with: "comfortable."

"I'm glad to hear you say that!" There was something warm in his voice that both thrilled and frightened her. "Oh! Oh! Oh! But it gets even better!" He leaped up and tugged her out of the room. "Let me show you what we've done upstairs!"

The third floor, once comprised of large executive offices, was where Minion and Megamind slept. Roxanne had been there many times in the past weeks, though she was admittedly usually too preoccupied to give much attention to the décor.

Megamind's room had changed from a blacked-out bachelor pad to a stylishly Gothic bedchamber. The walls were a rich blue. A full suite of carved ebony furniture—bed, wardrobe, nightstand, and chest of drawers— had replaced the previous collection of mismatched thrift finds. The ornate four-poster sported a new satin coverlet set in hues of gray, black, and cobalt, and was piled with silky-looking ash-colored pillows that Roxanne suspected matched the sheets. An impressionist oil painting of a historic street at night— rendered almost entirely in blue shades and black shadows— and a large mirror both hung in antique silver frames. Two lamps and a small chandelier, all wrought iron, completed the picture. It belonged on the cover of Evil Lair and Garden. Or maybe as the set of a photoshoot for Bad Boys Weekly. That would be better. All it lacked was its sexy male occupant lounging on the covers. The thought made Roxanne shiver with delight.

Minion's room reminded her of a garden pool, all greens, browns, and teals. Its bamboo furnishings and simple stone accents gave it a slightly Asian ambiance. The style was completely different from Megamind's Vampire Chic bedroom. Full of clean lines and abstract art, it looked more like a post-modern interior design catalog than a Goth culture magazine.

"He picked everything out himself," Megamind was saying. "You should have seen him, like a kid in a candy store! When I told him I wouldn't invade his privacy by bringing you to his room, he was utterly offended! He insisted that if I didn't show you he would never speak to me again. And that I could expect literally everything he cooked to be smothered in mayonnaise for at least a week!" The blue man made a show of shuddering in horror. Looking around, he added: "I should have let him redecorate years ago."

"I'm curious, why is there no bed?"

"Roxanne, he's a fish. He lives in a fishbowl."

The grin she gave him was three parts knowing and one part sly triumph. "And so he has a bedroom because….?"

Megamind blushed a little under his blue tint. "Well, I mean, you know..."

Cocking one arm to rest on her hip, Roxanne gently poked his chest with her other forefinger. "I always knew you were a big softy deep inside, even when you were a supervillain."

He spluttered. "That isn't… I am not… I was disgustingly horrifying! And..."

She laid a finger over his lips. "I always knew, and I love you for it." Smiling into his emerald eyes, she tilted her face up to give him a long, deep kiss. "Now, before you take me back to your new bedroom, tell me: what's that other door at the end of the hall?"

"That, well," He smiled and rubbed one ear, a nervous gesture she had come to adore. "That's my early Christmas present to you. Come have a look."

He took her hand gently this time, and when he pushed open the third door, Roxanne's mouth fell open.

"Ta-da!" he spun to face her, cloak billowing. His tone was all bold showmanship as he swung his arms wide to encompass their surroundings, but Roxanne knew him well enough to recognize the uneasiness hidden behind the bravado.

She stared around wide-eyed at the vaguely familiar round room. Everything in it had been changed so completely that it took her a moment to recognize the place she had awoken during her final kidnapping. The industrial elevator and second floor had been removed. A spiral staircase now led to a cozy loft and catwalk lined with wooden bookcases. All of the equipment had been moved out, the domed walls and ceiling had been expertly plastered and painted, and, where there had once been a telescope with mechanical shutters, there were now two glass doors leading onto a private balcony overlooking Lake Michigan. It was… perfect. Wonderfully, frighteningly perfect. Her own style—too formal to be modern but too clean to be antique—her favorite colors—sage green, sky blue, and soft ivory with cheerful red accents. The bookshelves—obviously custom-made to fit the curving walls—and few other pieces of furniture were warmly-stained oak that exactly matched the contents of her apartment. There were several empty spaces where she was clearly intended to move in her things. Roxanne knew she should have been thrilled—all the work, care, and expense he'd put into this would be enough to make any one of those silly interns goofy with elation—but all she could feel was cold dread.

"I was thinking we could put your living room suite upstairs to make a reading nook! And look!" He grabbed another remote control from a bracket on the wall. "I've renovated the alligator pit!" With the push of a button, a round trap door—one the reporter remembered with something almost like fondness— opened, and a half-moon desk with a cushy office chair rose on a platform to click into place with the rest of the floor. "I've, ah, also included controls in a hidden wall panel. I know how you lose remotes." He paused expectantly. "So, what do you think?" His smile was starting to look a little forced around the edges.

"Wow, Megamind," she tried not to sound unhappy. His feelings could be so easily crushed, though he excelled at hiding it. "This is…unexpected..."

His face fell slightly, and she searched quickly for something more positive to say.

Deciding on gentle honesty, she added: "I mean, this is exactly the way I would have decorated it myself. I had no idea…"

"Really?" God, she hated the vulnerable hope in his eyes.

"It's beautiful. It is. And sweet. But…"

"But?" he urged uncertainly, nervously fiddling with one of the studs on his black leather gauntlet.

"It just… This… All of this… It's happening so fast." It sounded like a canned response even to her.

True to form, her blue-skinned lover tried to put on a brave face with humor. "Oh, come on, you already sleep here more than you do your own place. This would make everything easier."

"Megamind, this is serious. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet."

"If there's one thing I've learned from all my battles, it's that there are some things you'll never feel ready for, but if you really want it, you just have to jump in anyway."

"Okay, but this? We've never even discussed me moving in, and this is just one step away from being married, and… I just…" she sighed. "I love you. I do, but I've never lived with someone before, and I… I need a little time to think this over." she finished lamely. Seeing his unhappy face, she added: "I'm not necessarily saying no, just...not yet."

"But Roxanne—"

"This is a wonderful gesture, but it's so sudden. I just don't think I can."

"Of course you can. Please, Roxanne, Sweetheart, say yes. Stay here with me," his voice took on an almost pleading tone. "It doesn't have to feel like we're living together. That's why you have a separate bedroom. Whenever you need time to yourself, you know I'll always give it to you."

"Megamind, it's not—"

"This doesn't have to be any more than you want it to be."

"Megamind, please—"

"I'll never invade your privacy unless you want me to." He dropped his voice to a sultry purr. "And when I do, I'll invade it very, very well."

"That isn't what—"

"I promise I'll be the best roommate you've ever had. We share a bathroom," he indicated the door on the left-hand wall. "The plumbing was insufficient for two, but there is a double sink. And I can use the facilities downstairs if you need me to."

"That's really sweet, but it's not the issue. I'm not ready for this."

"Stay anyway."

"I can't"

He crossed his arms. "Can't, or won't?"

"Why are you being so pushy about this?! You never push! And now you're asking me to give up my apartment, change my life… Megamind, that's a huge decision!"

"You're right. I never push. I've never before asked you for anything unless it involved protecting this city. But you know what? I'm asking now. This is the only request I've ever made of you. So please, please do this for me."

"Damn it, Megamind, that is so unfair!" Hot tears stung Roxanne's eyes. "I can't! Not yet! I'm not ready! And it's really low of you to pull that never-asked-for-anything card!"

That hit a nerve. "I am NOT pulling a card, Roxanne! I'm being very, very honest!"

"I didn't mean… I just…"

"I'm offering you everything! My home! My privacy! A place in every aspect of my life! I am offering you—a reporter!—all my secrets! I'm offering my feelings, my time, my vulnerability! I'm pulling out my heart here, Roxanne, pulling it out and laying it at your feet! Don't pay me back by stomping on it!"

There was ringing silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Megamind said at last. "That was… It wasn't fair of me to say..." He drew in a deep breath. "I just really need you to stay here."

Roxanne swiped at her eyes in frustrated, jerky movements.

"I think I'd better go."

"No! Wait!" he grabbed her arm.

"Let go!" She demanded. He did and she stormed toward the door.

"Roxanne!" Megamind dodged around to block her path. "Roxanne, I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave yet. Please listen to me! I know you're upset, but please let me explain!" He braced his back against the door as she tried to push past him. "This isn't just about me wanting you close! This is about your safety!"

"My… Oh, God, now you're starting with the helpless damsel crap?!" She tried to push past him again. "Let me out!"

"I will, Roxanne, as soon as you hear what I have to tell you."

She glared at him. "Let. Me. Out."

"Sweetheart, please..."

"Megamind, I mean it!" she yelled. "You promised me! You said no more real kidnappings! You promised! Let me out!"

The pain in his eyes was like a punch to Roxanne's heart, and that somehow made her temper burn even higher.

"You promised!" she said again, her voice rising nearly to a shriek.

"That's not what this is, Roxanne! If you would just listen I wouldn't have to do this! You think I like feeling like a monster?!"

"Then stop doing it!"

"I can't. Not when you're trying to run away rather than listen. Look, you're angry. I don't pretend to know why, but I accept that you are," His voice was deliberately calm, emotion simmering underneath, but he held his ground, pressing his weight back harder when she scrabbled for the doorknob. She wanted to slap him. "But, Roxanne, I still need you to listen," Megamind lifted one hand like he meant to touch her cheek, but stopped himself, closing his fingers on thin air. "I know you can take care of yourself under normal circumstances, but things have changed. Something's happened, and now… Metrocity isn't safe for you anymore."

That stopped her in her tracks. "Megamind, what are you talking about?"

"I didn't want to bring this up until I could gather some more information." Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I didn't want to worry you, not until I had a plan…" He sighed. Reluctantly, Megamind handed over a folded letter. His lover opened it to reveal oddly formal calligraphy.

My Dear Hesperos,

I have recently undertaken a business proposition in Metro City, which I understand is under your protection. In general, I applaud your intelligent planning and remarkable success in execution, but I wish you to understand that I cannot allow my operations to be jeopardized. Although your newfound love of justice and position as Defender of Metro City are both, to say the least, surprising, I shall not disparage your change in career. However, I believe that you also have seen enough of the world and society through the eyes of a villain to know that law and justice are, too often, completely disparate, and that sometimes an act of villainy is the only truly righteous course. Therefore I am sending this correspondence as both a professional courtesy and as an offer of peace.

Out of respect and remembered fondness for you, I desire to find a mutually beneficial compromise. It is therefore my hope that this communication will achieve two purposes. First, I wish to assure you that, as my plans currently stand, my activities within your city will neither be aimed against the populace at large nor intended to undermine the normal daily operations of the city itself. I will not, however, insult your intellect or my honor by claiming actions will be viewed, by the strictest interpretation of the law, as anything other than criminal. Nonetheless, be assured that it is my intention to complete my business quickly, discreetly, and without any more loss of life than is necessary. Second, I wish to cordially advise you not to attempt to dissuade me. I do not desire harm to come to you, or any dear to you, but I am a gentleman of business and must protect my interests. If you will consent to allow me to complete my task without interference, you will hardly notice my presence. However, if you take it upon yourself to trouble me, I am afraid I shall have to extract a dire price.

I would take no joy in harming a lovely young lady like Miss Ritchi, but accidents do happen, especially to those who oppose me.

Yours in Good Faith,

Ares Coeus

Roxanne felt slightly cold by the time she finished reading. To think that two minutes ago she'd been worried about whether Megamind wanted to become too serious!

But she hadn't become a star reporter by letting fear control her. "Wow, okay. So, this is... Not what I expected." She looked at him. "I'm sorry... I..."

"It's alright, Love. And I understand. Believe me, it's thrown a wrench into my gears, too."

She nodded, forcing her mind to focus as panic tried once again to drown her natural spunk and curiosity. "Ares? Like the god of war?" she managed a wry grin. "Really? That's a little dramatic." Her attempt at a smile smile felt wrong, like it was stretched too tight.

Megamind didn't share her humor. "Yes, Sweetheart, like the Greek god of war."

Something about that name tugged at the depths of her mind. "I think... I think I remember hearing something about him now. Ares escaped Metro City Prison for the Criminally Insane when I was in the fourth grade. No one except you had ever done it before. No one except you has done it since. People were panicking. Some parents wouldn't let their kids go to school." She paused. "That was weird, now that I think about it. They never did that when you escaped."

"I was not just the local supervillain but also a recognized super-genius. My escaping was almost expected, even if they did everything they could to prevent it. That was just another Tuesday. But Ares' escape wasn't part of the show. They couldn't tell themselves it was only because of my extreme brilliance and ingenuity; not when the escapee was another human. That made it more... real."

Roxanne nodded and cleared her throat. "So… Hesperos. Is that you?"

"Yes. It was Ares' name for me. Hesperos Oldwin."

"Oldwin. That doesn't really fit the pattern. All the other names he chose sound Classical."

"You're right. It doesn't. Ares was obsessed with Greek myths, among other things—especially with both his namesake and with the story of the titan Cronos eating his own children, who were then reborn as gods—but the ancient Greeks didn't have a word for 'blue.'"

"Seriously?"

He made a brave attempt at a chuckle. "Clearly they didn't appreciate the finer things, at least where colors were concerned," His weak smile couldn't seem to hold onto his lips, and quickly fell away. He sighed. "Anyway, Ares gave me the name Hesperos Oldwin because it means Morning Star Blue Sky. The blue part is obvious—"

"Hmmm," she agreed

"And then, of course, my escape pod came from the stars and fell from the sky one morning."

"So he was, what? Your friend? Why is he threatening you?"

"I think I was the closest thing to a friend Ares ever had, but that wasn't very close. More like hero worship." At Roxanne's look, he grimaced slightly. "Remember, I was young and… less brilliant."

"But you liked him?"

"'Like' is too strong a word. Ares was… strange, but he enjoyed my company when I was a boy because I was the only one who could keep up with his intellect, even beat him at chess, although I quickly learned that outsmarting him too much led him to abandon me for days on end. He could be… disinterested, but more often he talked to me, sometimes for hours, when he wasn't locked in solitary confinement. I thought he was cool— smooth, sophisticated, well-spoken, smart, tough— and maybe I liked finding someone fairly close to my own age who didn't revile me for a change." He studied his black boots. "Maybe it made me feel special that I was the only other person he bothered naming."

Roxanne gently lifted his chin. "You were lonely. I can't really blame you."

"I can." Megamind sighed. "As I grew older I began to realize that some things about him were just… off. It wasn't until years afterward that I learned 'morning star' is also the meaning of the name Lucifer, as in the devil in most Abrahamic religions. By that time Ares was already gone, but I have the feeling the parallel wasn't an accident. The worst part is, I don't think he meant it as an insult."

"Okay, but how much of that is just a persona? You once said that the difference between a villain and a supervillain is presentation."

"Minion said that," he reminded her.

"It's still true."

"This is different."

"I don't mean he's necessarily a supervillain. You grew up in prison. You're better at analyzing criminal minds than any psychiatrist I've ever heard of. I've seen you figure people out so fast it's almost like mind-reading. I'm guessing Ares isn't his real name, so clearly he's putting on a show. How much is him and how much is just an act?"

"Oh, you don't understand!" Megamind threw up his hands and began pacing. "Ares does not play at evil insanity. He's the real deal! No one in that prison ever crossed him. Convicts, guards, even the warden feared him. Most people, even criminals, have limits… lines they won't cross, but Ares… He had no lines. He would be a perfectly nice and polite man until someone did something he didn't like—anything, a tone of voice, the wrong look—and then, in a flash, he could turn horrible and callous. He would get this cold smile on his face, and you knew sometime soon something truly terrible was going to happen to that person. And it never bothered him. Not even a little."

"You make him sound like a monster."

"He is."

Roxanne stood up and stopped his pacing with a hug. "No, Megamind. He's just a man."

With a sigh, Megamind gently pushed her away. "Roxanne," he looked her in the eye. "I was twelve when Ares was arrested. He was only a few years older than me, not quite a legal adult, but they sent him to a high-security facility for the criminally insane. Do you know why? When he found out his father was cheating on his mother, Ares murdered both the man and his mistress. And not in a crime of passion. He searched, learned, planned, and prepared. He found out about the spa resort his father often took his mistress to— an exclusive and very discreet place outside of town—"

Roxanne was starting to feel a little sick. "Oh my God… The Nelson Case. You knew that guy?"

"Yes. Ares' real name is Eric Nelson."

"I read about that trial for a paper when I was in college. Did he really kill them in the steam room?"

Megamind nodded. "He told me all about it. Bragged. The fake ID, the forged credentials, the Social Security System hack… And then he got a maintenance job at the spa resort. Even though he was rarely around guests, he was always in disguise, even changing his mannerisms and the way he walked… He learned how the steam system worked, created a bypass for the safety measures…." Megamind shuddered. "Roxanne, he literally steam broiled those people alive. And he watched. He stood there and he watched. His own father…" With a shake of his head, Megamind added: "He wasn't even sorry. Ares called himself a 'soldier of righteousness,' and insisted it was the legal system that was corrupt."

"How could he think that?"

"He's crazy. But he's also calculating, cold, and cruel. That makes him dangerous. When his twisted sense of honor and justice is incensed, he is capable of truly horrific things." Megamind sighed again. "After Ares escaped prison, he joined a paramilitary organization, but apparently his philosophies were too... extreme even for them. The last I heard, he was working as an assassin, but he only takes certain jobs that he feels are in line with his off-center views of right and wrong. He's so good at making his murders look like accidents that no one— not even in the criminal underworld— really knows what his kill count is. Even so, the sorts of 'accidents' he causes… Let's just say people don't hire Ares if they want the funeral to be open casket."

"Maybe he's not serious." Even to her, it sounded more like a plea than a suggestion. "What if he's just playing mind games with you?" Roxanne trailed off as she studied her lover's face.

"No. Ares isn't like other villains we've faced… like I was. This isn't something he does for fame, money, petty revenge, or for the simple reason that he's bored out of his skull and needs intellectual stimulation. He doesn't play games, or if he does, he plays for keeps."

It felt as if ice had replaced her spine. "And you really think he'll do it? That he'll find me?"

Green eyes met hers, and something in their depths made the ice expand to fill her stomach.

"Megamind?"

He glanced away again, like he couldn't bear to see her reaction. "Sweetheart, there were..." his throat bobbed.

"There were photographs enclosed with the letter," he answered quietly, as if lowering the tone of his words would somehow lessen their impact. "They were… One was of you standing just inside the glass doors of your balcony—"

"Oh my God." she breathed, moving to collapse into the desk chair.

"One was of you leaving the news station. The last was of you jogging in Hill Top Park." He finally met her gaze again. "Sweetheart… I'm sorry… He has already found you." He knelt beside her, turned the desk chair to face him, and took her hands in his, looking earnestly up at her. "I have to try to stop him. You know I do. I'm the good guy now. But I can't do that and watch your back at the same time. Not if we're apart. That's why I really, really need you to stay here."

Something in her vaguely understood that she should care about that, but it suddenly seemed as if her brain, overwhelmed with terror, had opted to turn itself off. Her heart, in contrast, was screaming and she felt like she might be physically ill. This, Roxanne decided distantly, must be what a panic attack felt like.

"What about… my job?"

"Telecommute."

Her laugh sounded bitter and wild in her own ears. "I'm an on-scene correspondent. I can't telecommute."

"Then take some time off," he offered gently. "We'll talk to the station, or have the officials contact them. This is little different from a witness protection program. And it's only temporary. They'll have to understand."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll make them."

Roxanne buried her face in her palms. She heard the tread of leather boots, the sighing swish of a cape, and deft hands began massaging her shoulders. Megamind's voice spoke gently behind her.

"Roxanne. Listen to me. It will be alright. Everything will be alright. We are going to get through this. He hasn't found this place, and I've made some alterations to ensure it stays that way."

"How do you know he hasn't found your hideout?" she asked between her fingers. "You can't possibly know that."

"He hasn't. Trust me. His letter was sent to my fan mail post box. Ares likes keeping people off balance, making them feel he has the upper hand. If he had known where my Lair was, he would have found a way to deliver it directly here. He didn't, which means we're safe. I've been working on some enhancements for a while, but Minion and I have put in a lot of hours to finish them quickly. This entire building is now outfitted with a cloaking shield: a hard light hologram similar to what the holowatch produces. I took it down briefly when I saw you approach, and put it back up once you came in. Now all anyone will see is an empty, condemned building. No dome, no signs of life, nothing."

Turning the chair to face him, she suddenly threw her arms around Megamind and held him close. He knelt to let her hide her face against his neck. Like a child awakened from a bad dream, Roxanne buried herself in his warmth and breathed in the comfort of his scent.

"I really am sorry," her words were muffled by his skin. "I'm so very sorry."

He ran gentle hands up and down her arms. "I am too."

"You shouldn't be."

"If you weren't with me, this never would have happened."

"No. People assumed I dated Metro Man, and they would have assumed the same about us."

"I should have realized sooner. I should have done better."

"You're doing your best."

"We both are."

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you."

"You didn't know."

The moment of weakness passed, and Roxanne gathered herself, gluing pieces of broken confidence back together with spunky determination and brave humor.

"Yeah, well, you know, you could have told me this sooner and saved us the trouble of arguing," she jibed halfheartedly, her crooked smile appearing through tears.

His answering grin was weak, and a little sad. "I didn't want to have to tell you. Not now, not tonight. And I didn't want to ruin your holidays." His shoulders drooped slightly. "Tonight was supposed to be about cheering you up. I wanted to make you happy, not terrify the living daylights out of you."

"But I thought you liked terrifying me. Why else did you kidnap me all the time?"

"How else could I spend time with you? Besides, you were never truly scared of me. Annoyed, yes. Sometimes even angry, but never scared." He wrapped her in an embrace. "And I happen to think you're extremely sexy when you're angry."

That drew a tearful laugh from Roxanne. "Right, because, you know, that's one I've never heard before." Sighing, she looked back at her new bedroom. "Thank you for everything you've done, Megamind. If it's okay, I'll enlist the brainbots' help in moving my things tomorrow."

"I'll be glad to have them give you a hand, but we should do it late at night. That's when Ares… works. He'll be less likely to be watching your apartment."

They were silent for a moment.

"Well," Roxanne's voice held a tone of determined calm. "At least we have a plan."

He smiled. "We have a plan."

There was another pause.

"So..." casting around for something to say, Roxanne landed on: "how long has Ares been in Metro City, and what do we know so far?"

"Not much. I got the letter last Thursday, but Ares has been laying low. I've had brainbots guarding you twenty-four-seven."

"I thought I saw more of them around than usual. Wait," she looked around her room with new admiration. "You managed to get all of this pulled together in six days? That's... Darling, that's beyond impressive! That's amazing!"

"Five days, six hours, and fifty-three minutes, to be precise," Megamind answered, standing up and managing another gray smile. "Incredibly Handsome Genius, remember? You'd be surprised what can be done with a little determination, a large budget, and thousands of tireless laborers."

"Large budget?"

"I have contracts with various companies for a cut of the profits from all Megamind merchandise sold, among other things."

"Seriously? That's not standard hero procedure, is it?"

"Being a good guy doesn't exactly pay well."

"Wayne never did that."

"Ha. Metro Man was adopted by a multi-billionaire. He has a trust fund big enough to support an entire third-world country, not to mention that all of his abilities are inborn. I, on the other hand, have supplies to buy, bills to pay, evil inventions to construct..."

"I thought they weren't evil any more?"

"Well, evil only to evildoers." His burgeoning grin faltered. "Roxanne, be honest, are you angry at me? For not telling you sooner? I know you always hated it when Metro Man treated you like a powerless victim, and I want you to know that isn't why I didn't tell you. I just wanted the brainbots to do a little reconnocense first. And, as I said, I wanted you to enjoy the holiday season before I threw this at you."

Drawing close to him, she cupped his cheek and looked sincerely into his face. "No. I'm not angry. Not now that I understand." She hugged him once more. "But from now on I need you to trust me enough to just tell me things. I can't be prepared if I don't know."

"It's a deal."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

He kissed her cheek. "I suppose it's possible I could have handled it a little better."

She finally managed a real grin. "Maybe a little." She held her hands a foot apart. "Like this much."

"Oh, come on, not that much." He moved her arms closer until her palms were only a couple of inches apart. "Maybe that much."

"This much," she spread her hands even wider.

His mouth quirked. "Now you're just being unreasonable."

Despite everything, they both laughed, releasing the tension in the air.

"I'm glad I'm here," Roxanne said.

"Me too." He held her, kissed her brow. "You'll be happy here, Sweetheart. I'll do everything I can… I want this to be comfortable, and good… You like having your own space, and that's fine, but I want you to know that this is your home, too. Always."

She felt herself smile, although the expression lacked its usual confident strength. He wasn't wrong. Sometimes Roxanne felt she practically lived in his hideout already. Well, the past few weeks had been an exception. While the blue hero had dealt with a plot by the Doom Syndicate and the usual holiday season uptick in thefts, Roxanne had been forced to travel, first covering a rare blizzard in the Upper Penninsula, then a meeting of the newly formed Michigan State Disability Caucus in Lansing, and finally attempts by members of the state legislature to conceal certain business interest's tax frauds. She and her lover had only been able to steal occasional dates during her brief returns home, and he had spent one night in a Lansing hotel with her. Even when life wasn't so busy, however, the reporter and her lover rarely spent the night at her apartment anymore. Not since Ms. Farley, a sweet but nosy elderly woman who lived next door, had caught Roxanne out in the hall one evening and invited her over for what had turned out the be the most awkwardly embarrassing cup of tea in all history.

"Listen, Dear," the old lady had said amicably after a few minutes of small talk. "Between you, me, and the lamppost, I just want to tell you that I am really very happy you and our hero have such a healthy and loving relationship, but— I really hate to bring it up— but maybe three in the morning is a little late for… nocturnal activities? And… well… you might just ask him to be a little more circumspect about his language? It's only that Len Paszek mentioned that his little boy asked last week what all those funny words the Defender kept shouting meant…"

Megamind had blushed fuchsia when she'd told him, and admitted that one of his new friends on the police force had laughingly informed him they had received no fewer than three noise complaints from other tenants in Roxanne's building.

"He seemed to think I needed to be congratulated?" the blue man had said uncertainly. "He kept slapping my back and saying I must be doing something right?"

Roxanne had felt her own cheeks burning. "I… um… yeah, that's a… pretty normal human male bonding ritual…"

"Humans are strange," Megamind had informed her.

They'd spent almost every night at the Lair ever since.

"Sir, Code C and C," Minion's voice crackled from the vicinity of his master's left hand, disrupting Roxanne's thoughts.

"Code what?" Megamind asked into his wrist.

"Cookies and cocoa!" Minion explained. "Come and get it while it's—No no no! That is not a toy! Drop it! Drop it right now!"

A sound suspiciously like breaking china echoed through the watch's speaker.

Megamind and Roxanne looked at each other and laughed again. It felt good. "I suppose we had better go downstairs while the cookies are still edible," the blue hero said. "You don't mind, do you, Roxanne? It's just that— well, you know— Minion has planned out this entire evening, and it really means a lot to him…" he trailed off as Roxanne gave him his favorite knowing smile.

"Thank you and Minion both for planning tonight. Of course I want to be a part of it." She sighed, looking down one more time at the disturbing letter. "Let's just take a step back. We can deal with this tomorrow. Besides," she brightened slightly. "I wouldn't miss Minion's home baking for anything."

Megamind chuckled again. "Be sure to tell him that." With a dramatic flourish, he swept his cloak behind one shoulder and offered her his arm. "Now, Miss Ritchi," he purred in that tone that always melted her down to her toes. "If you'll come with me, please, I fully intend to spend the next several hours cuddling by the stove, if only I could find a beautiful, intelligent woman to cuddle with."

A small, very grown-up and professional part of Roxanne hated that Megamind always knew how to make her blush. The rest of her, however, adored it.

"I think I can oblige," she answered, linking her arm through his.

He returned her smile and led her downstairs.

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drunkdaisychains · 3 years

Text

Aera the Fair

full story updated regularly @

https://www.wattpad.com/story/258839356-aera-the-fair

Pairings: OCF/OCM, OC/Brynjolf

Warnings: Smut, killing, theft, fluff

Summery:Between the Butcher murders, lovers spats, and the war going one, it’s a wonder that there is any peace in Windhelm. Valun Stormcloak, son of Ulfric, has taken an interest in a fair maiden adopted into clan Shattersheild. But she has an incriminating secret. Can she keep her man, avenge her family, and keep her secret or will she be cast out of the city, never able to see her family again.

An excerpt from Chapter 4

"Stop! Assassin!" The Markarth guards chased her towards the city gates. She had successfully planted the incriminating letter on her target but was caught sneaking out of his room in the keep. She dodged and swerved people as she sprinted from the scene. She just needed the shadows of the night to conceal her. As she stepped briskly down the steps and away from the city she tried not to concentrate on the burning building in her legs. Farther and farther they carried her as she dipped and dodged arrows flying from the guards bows. She finally saw it, the shadows along the side of the road that she'd slip into. As quick as she appeared she vanished, not even an invisibility spell needed tho she did have that power. As she controlled her breathing she heard the crunching of dirt as guards flew past her.

"Damn. We lost her," one said after a moment of looking around. After another bit of sniffing the air they turned to return to their posts. She waited with a hand over her mouth until she couldn't hear them and her shoulders relaxed. She decided it was best to stick to the shadows the rest of her way back to the sanctuary. Forsworn had been attacking travellers for months and she knew they attacked in numbers. She was skilled but not against an army. Her journey was uneventful aside from the occasional wildlife, she made record time back to the sanctuary. Little did she know as she passed through the door, she would be met with aftermath. She was able to piece together the scene in moments and listened anxiously as the family discussed the moments that had just transpired.

Oh Cicero. You should have waited until I got back. Thought to herself as Astrid had furiously turned to her. Her objective was simple, she wanted her husband home and alive… and avenged.

"Take Shadowmere. You'll notice he's one of us," she suggested and Aera turned on her heel. She needed to get to her friend before that werewolf did and she needed to fix this. As she approached the black pond outside the sanctuary doors it began to boil. The sounds of galloping could be heard mixed with the bubbling and finally with a grand rear, Shadowmere appeared.

"That's showy, even for you," she giggled at the horse. Shadowmere was more apart of the brotherhood than Astrid but Aera was not about to let on that she knew it. The Dark steed had been fabled in the Brotherhood as he was Lucien Lachance's ride. Shadowmere was family quite literally and had always wondered why she was not the one to inherit him. For her surname was LaChance, she was always destined to be an assassin like her ancestor. She dropped the last name,in favour of her nickname given to her in Bruma, when she crossed over the border. She didn't know that it was the same as the Jarl in Solitude but to change it after would have been suspicious.

She mounted Shadowmere and kicked him in the direction of Dawnstar.

Upon arriving she was met with the scene of blood and a clearly injured Arnbjorn. She gave him a healing potion from her satchel and offered him Shadowmere.

"Oh don't worry about me. I'll make it back, just make sure that bastard regrets it." He muttered before stalking off.

"What is life's greatest illusion?" The ghostly voice belonging to the door asked.

"Innocence, my brother," she answered.

"Welcome home," as it opened toward her. The sanctuary was in rather nice shape for being abandoned. Desolate and home to only spiders but she could find comfort here if she had to. She summoned her ancestor to fight alongside her, greeting him as an old friend.

"Ah Listener, the Night Mother has told me of your devotion," he growled. She was in awe but had no time to be struck as a spectral assassin materialized from the wall. Cicero's voice could be heard taunting her. She hoped he hadn't turned on her as well. She sliced through spectral assassin after spectral assassin, nearly being run through by traps set or set on fire. The cold ruins of whatever tunneled into the sanctuary made her breathe freeze. She could hear a weird growl before Lucien jumped past her and began fending off the troll. Once she shook off her shock she too joined in the quarrel. Finally after a gruelling tour through the snow and cobwebs, she burst into the door where Cicero's voice was clearest she had heard since she stepped through the door. She sheathed her swords and rushed to his side. Her friend was in a bad way and could use a potion. She dug through her satchel and uncorked the small red vial handing it to him to drink.

"I won't kill you," she confirmed. Cicero had warned her that Astrid was a traitor and she had more reason to trust him than her. Lucien mumbled about a purification, much like the Cheydinhal she had begun at despite it being considered the Bravil chapter.

"You must leave Cicero here so Astrid believes I am dead!" He exclaimed.

"She'll have no choice but to believe me. I just hope she doesn't come check for herself," she said out loud.

"Go now! Go tell the traitor you killed Cicero," he said scooting closer to the fire. She nodded and turned on her heel to make the journey back.

While the journey back wasn't as bad now that she was on the best steed for an assassin to be paired with, she was worried about Cicero. When she wasn't worrying about his well being her mind wandered over to Valun. She would reminisce their tumble together and how he gave her what she couldn't find in Brynjolf or the sailors who would always propose to her. She had even considered Thrynn before he showed how belligerent he was on mead. They all had excitement and mystery. They would all be able to give her a fair life, but whether they wanted to or she wanted them to was up for debate. But with Valun she also received a comfort she had never had. It was easy to be with him and forget about her secrets with him. It was just when she would think of them again they would hit her like a ton of bricks and he would be right there kissing away her worries, trying to convince her to be his bride.

Thankfully Astrid not only believed her, but sent her on the next step for the grand scheme they had planned. She had to find the author of the popular cookbook "uncommon taste" and steal his identity. First she needed to go to Markarth to locate him. She used her travel time on Shadowmere to prepare her alibi and to make her travel decisions. She would prepare for the possibility of an extended time away while they dealt with the final mark. Killing the emperor was no small task and she wanted to ensure there was no way she would be compromised if she had to stay away longer. The chef in Markarth was easy to get the information from, and simply having the kitchens closed off already while he slept made it perfect to stuff a cloth in his mouth when she took his life. This job was far too easy, the cook, innkeeper, and even the bard at the inn almost jumped at the opportunity to tell someone the orc was in their basement room. Foolish of them to not be more discrete. Lugging the large Orsimer into the hiding place was the hardest part. It made her arms burn to pull herself up the ladder after. It was finally time to make history. She rode up to the Solitude gates, Jarrin root in her pocket. She had changed into fine clothes and a chef's hat so to look the part she was playing.

The writ worked to allow her access and soon she was in the kitchen with the regular castle dour cook stirring away at the base of a potage le magnifique. She took some creative liberties while cooking before placing the Jarrin root into the stew and watching it dissolve quickly. The cook picked up the pot and carried it painstakingly slowly into the dining room where the Emperor sat with nobles from all over Skyrim. She placed herself on the side of the table closest to the door for a quick escape. When his face landed in his bowl she was already turned around and sprinting to the door. Unfortunately that's where she would be stopped by Commander Maro, angry and vengeful.

"As of right now your sanctuary is being put to the sword," he growled, the words were like fire in her ears. Her last home, destroyed by the Empire. She must have looked as crazy mad as Cicero did because there was an unsure look in Maro's eyes as she ran up to him with her swords drawn. Immediately she used both blades to slice his head off, as if he were softened butter. It rolled down off his neck and to his guards feet as she sheathed the bloody blades and sprinted down the tower steps. She dodged soldiers left and right knowing she had to get to the sanctuary as fast as she could. She used the city walls the same way she had when she killed the Vicci girl at her own wedding. The walls were able to limit her exposure to flying arrows and pursuing guards, her lungs burned as she pushed to keep going as fast as she could.

She burst through the gate doors before they could lock them and took a running start at Shadowmere, who seemed to know exactly what to do as he began trotting in the other direction before launching into a sprint before she was properly seated.

"We have to go home Shadowmere, they need us," she said to the steed as she fumbled with a stirrup to give relief from the bouncing. Her eyes watered both from the worry and from the wind. When she made it up to the sanctuary she could see the horses and soldiers waiting. Shadowmere charged them, rearing and attacking them as Aera hopped off. She spun with her blades out, cutting through the skin exposed from where the armour couldn't protect. She whirled around ensuring no one but her and Shadowmere would survive this fight. Finally as the soldiers lay in pools of their own blood she turned to the door and rushed in.

Fire, oil that was used to cause the fire, and bodies were everywhere. She stabbed the two soldiers who advanced on her almost as if they were an afterthought and rushed deeper into the burning hall to find survivors. Veezara and Festus' bodies were burned and almost unrecognizable. Gabriella and her spider were nowhere to be found and Arnbjorn was a werewolf, attacking a group of soldiers at once before succumbing to his injuries too. She rushed to the dining hall to find Nazir fighting more of the assailants and she immediately joined in.

"You're alive!" Nazir yelled over slashing and clashing.

"Can't say the same for everyone else," she yelled back clearly distraught. The last soldier was run through with a final slash of her sword and she was able to turn to the blood splattered Alik'r. They both launched into a search for survivors until she heard the ghostly voice calling to her. She was in the night mother's room and she was requesting her to step into the coffin. Aera was hesitant but obliged as she is the chosen listener. She closed her eyes trying to block out the heinous trauma that had just occurred.

"Sleep…" the voice soothed.

#skyrim fanfiction #bryjolf #The Elder Scrolls #fanfiction #romance #action #the dark brotherhood #Assassin #cicero

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

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It’s The Avengers (03x07)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 07: Team Death Match

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: i don’t know what trope this is but I got inspired to write this after listening to a song THAT I DIDN’T EVEN ADD IN HERE!!!!

Word Count:Ever felt your skull was heavy one day? Out of the blue? Like your forehead and your upper jaw did not seem like they were handling their weight really well. They just want to lie down and then they have the audacity to NOT sleep at night. This has been happening to me for the past five days.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The pitch-black shifted out from a fog, the lens trying to find its focus as a figure appeared in front of it. Then two. Then three. A groan could be seen leaving you as your body tried to find the arms of gravity while your head tried to come back from some dream-like spin. But gravity had other plans and so you swerved a little to find your face moving closer to the ground till a something strong broke your fall. That something strong being Loki's arms holding tightly onto your waist. The touch of cold arms across your scalding stomach was more than welcome by your roiling brain. "Aaah," you sighed with a stupid grin stuck on your face and your barely opened eyes rolling back, "coooold." It was no work for the God to hold you like that but he knew you would go back to sleep if he kept your burning back stuck to his crisp body. And so, without a second thought, he let go of his hold on you, letting you fall on the grass with a yelp and a thump, followed by a groan. The camera recorded his no-fucks-given face.

Loki: *resting bitch face* What. I'm the God of Mischief. Not God of free air conditioning. *camera pans in* I condition when I please.

"Ow! What the-" you grunt and try- in not any way that would look graceful- to get up- "ahh my butt!" The camera recorded Loki wearing his maroon jacket, the one that flowed with its length- over a black v-neck and equally black denim. "Get your butt up, you traitorous witch. I am never getting stuck with you anywhere ever again." Your furrowed brows could tell you were confused at Loki's words, but they were not as confusing as the greenery underneath you and a tarp over your head shielding you from the scorching star overhead. The shed around you housed wooden tables, crates and surprisingly a lot of weapons on them. "What the hell is happening here?" Your previously spinning head wondered if it felt into another dimension when you hit the ground. "You," Loki pointed his finger right into your face, startling you where you stood, "you are the hell that is happening!" You stood there, your mouth agape, trying to bring out a sound that would reflect the amount of insult you were feeling right now. "Excuse me? What in the flying f-" Loki interrupted you, his palms rising in the idiot-sandwich pose. "Why did you have to touch the video game?! I told you specifically to NOT touch anything while we are in the shop, did I not?!" Standing there motionless, the camera slowly zoomed in to watch your facial expressions reflecting the workings of your brain to recall what Loki was talking about.

Twenty Nine Minutes Earlier "I don't care how weird this planet is, Loki, when you see an antique shop, it is an unspoken rule to check it out. Because a- it always some old stuff lying around and b- it might be haunted." Loki walked in through the door first, looking at the camera. "Says the woman who runs towards her room after switching off the lounge lights," he mentioned to the lens, getting a passing smack on his torso from your figure walking out of the frame. "Hullllowww!" You called out to...no one. "Is there anybody there? Any living or dead? We are walking in your shop looking at your antique stuff." "I'm not with her," Loki imitated your tone, getting an eye roll from you. Lulu settled around your neck like one elongated fluffed-up scarf, not really that eager to explore. Around the four of you was a treasure trove of unidentified and expectedly unfamiliar objects catching your eye from everywhere. There was even a preserved head of what looked like some ancient elk behind the counter- more in a meditative state than dead. Trinkets lay on shelves for the audience to look- one more mesmerised and the others- without any eyes. So to speak. Loki was the only one who did not believe they didn't have an observer. "I don't like this place. Y/N, come on. Let's g-" The camera was already recording the green and red glitter waves coming from the little palette you had touched, sucking all of you in, making the camera go dark before coming to the present. With the realisation in your eyes and confusion in your brows, you looked at Loki. "Okay, but how was I supposed to know that little old cassette would Jumanji us here?!"

Flashback The recording shows you looking at the cassette while the lens zooms in to the alien inscription shifting to give way to the words writing Jumanji. "Oh! This one says Jumanji!" You tell the camera before picking it up.

You: *suck on your teeth* *guilt in your eyes* *scratch an itch behind your ear* Yeah I should've seen that coming. *watch something out of the frame* *start running with fear in your eyes* I'M SORRIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE- *the lens catches Loki's running figure coming to get you*

"Thanks to you, we are stuck in some netherworld with guns and no way to escape. There are no exits to this boxed hell for all I know," Loki sighed in frustration, giving a rotten look to the guns in front of him. Lulu stood with a tilted head on the table looking at the guns with curiosity, raising a paw to touch them before Loki slowly brushed that furry little limb away, making you press a smile at the tenderness of the situation. "Oh, there is no way out. This is more of a confined match space," you acknowledged out of the blue like just remembered something. The pause reflecting on Loki's face did not give you any clear indication as to how you were feeling. "I-It's the Death Match playground from PlayerUnknown's Battlegrounds," you added quietly, before biting your lips. "The last game I played before we all got on a surprise ride to space." Loki narrowed his eyes at you. "So, you are telling me we are in a live setting of the last game you played." You barely shrugged and pushed your chin in as a 'meh, maybe' gesture. "You are absolutely right." A scream escaped your lungs from the husky and somewhat pervy voice from your right, jumping away and right beside Loki, your hand catching his arm for protection against that albino creature with dark eyes standing there like a monster straight out of your nightmare. The change in Loki's stature to a rigid front- while still letting you hang on to his arm- reflected that the God knew something. "Oh, I should have known." "Should've known what?" You didn't. And you wanted to be included "It's a Djinn." "Oh! Oh..." The recognition changed into revulsion faster than the Djinn could say its name. "Yeah. These filth-ridden creatures know nothing but cause chaos whoever they touch. Don't you, Djinn?" "I have a name, Silvertongue," the white one said without blinking, making you wonder if actually had eyelids to blink. "Okay, you guys have to stop calling him Silvertongue," you huffed, "like I've been with this guy for almost a year and there is nothing Silver about him or his tongue. Neither has he been any good at manipulating anyone from our family." Loki looked at the camera with disbelief.

Loki: I have a reputation outside the household, woman. *looks around in caution* *comes close to the camera to whisper* Do not spoil it! *Your half-assed deep-throated laughter from out of the frame echoed through space*

"How surprising," the Djinn looked at you with an intense glare through his hollow beady eyes, "for the God who wrecks cataclysm wherever he goes to have a companion." "Okay, Oxford Dictionary," you chuckled, "let me stop you right there. He has a lot of companions. It's just right now, we'll have to make do." If that smooth-skinned Djinn has brows, he would be raising them at you while the camera panned in on his face shifting from yours to his. Loki shook his head, raising his hand a little as if trying to pause the entire conversation. "That's not what he m-" he turned from you to the Djinn- "that is not what she means-you know what, never mind. Get us out of here." No one would have seen it if the camera did not zoom in at the slight smirk on that bare line of lips on that pale face. "Oh, but I cannot do anything, Silvertongue. Your-" he tilted his head at you with creepy eyes, making you shift closer behind Loki- "companion started this play. You will have to finish it. Or die trying." "You mean we have to play this game?" "Of course, we have to play this game," Loki sighed, closing his eyes. "NO! I suck at this game! I'll die!!" You grunted through your teeth. Loki groaned, trying to tear the skin from his face. "Why could you not have played Sims or Untitled Goose Game or ANIMAL CROSSING?!" You scoffed, your open mouth hurt at that comment. "Well, I am sorry for trying to get better at it because SOMEONE would not SHUT UP about having good reflexes FOR SUCH A PITIFUL GAME! And for your INFORMATION, Sims die too if you don't care for them on time!" The embers of anger seemed to slowly melt away into uninvited surprise. "What?" You nodded long enough to let it settle in before turning to the Djinn. "So, I guess we have to score points by killing the peeps from the opponent team? Forty points or ten minutes whichever gets over first, right?" The Djinn lowered his head a little in agreement. "If you win, you will walk out of the game unscathed. If you lose, you will die." That slow blink of 'excuse me' coming from you was enough to tell the world what your insides were going through right now. "But there's only two of us. It would be an unfair game if the opponents are a full team of four, don't you think?" "You may choose from the creatures that come to your mind. Once you do, a team will be formed on the other side of the field to match your strengths and weaknesses." "Natasha. We pick Natasha." You had never seen Loki come to make a decision so quickly. And just as he said the name, a golden wave washed over in one corner of the shed to bring to life an avatar matching Natasha Romanoff right to the mole. "Excellent choice," she stated, already choosing her weapons, while you stood there flabbergasted.

Back in the lounge, Natasha smirked at the camera while everyone nodded in agreement with the decision. "Smart man," Sam added, "I would've picked her too." Tony, on the other hand, stood there, fully offended. "Rude."

"Okay, who else? Who else?" you jumped where you stood. "Who can compensate for my very poor reflexes, stay alive and shoot people dead. Oh, and there are grenades in this game too." The camera looked at the two of you find this new wave of relaxation on your furrowed brows as a name came up in both your minds. "Bucky!"

"Super rude!" Tony declared at the screen. "Tony, you were never the first option. It's deadly combat," Steve stated with a chuckle. "Neither did you, Steve," Nat stated matter-of-factly. "It is a battle of guns, not sassy-grandpas." A howl went around the lounge as Steve looked at the camera in muted surprise. "Why didn't they choose Clint?" Pietro wondered out loud. "I can think of many reasons! One of them is that the first person Clint would have killed would be Loki," Tony quipped, getting a cheer from the archer and his coffee mug.

"Okay," you jumped some more, inhaling and exhaling audibly, "okay. Let's do it." "Don't jump-" Natasha checked the ammo and put the clip back in the M416- "you'll cramp your leg." "No, I wo-OW!" "Here, take this sniper, this pistol, this machine gun, grenades, and this pan," she added, handing you the stuff while putting what you could not handle in a backpack for you. "Try to kill as many as you-" Her voice was drowned by a grenade exploded in close proximity, sending Lulu down the table to hide. "Hey," you looked at the Djinn, "take them out of here, somewhere safe." Bucky worked like a well-oiled machine. First, he picked up the UZI to strap the dangerous little baby gun to his back. Next, he got his hands on the M762 and felt a low whistle come out of you. Bucky went on to equip the 762 with a scope, a grip, and a suppressor. Next came the pistol, with the same attention to detail and extra parts as his previous big guns. Last came the grenades, that went into his cargo pants. You stood there with your sniper- not even held correct- looking at Bucky and then at the camera with nothing impressed eyes.

You: I have no idea about weapons but that one looks dangerous. Actually, anything in Bucky's beefy muscle-y arms looks dangerous. Even icecream. Like if we both went out for ice-cream and I got teased by some filth on the street, he would jab the cones in their mouth and make them vomit blood. *smiles* *camera pans out and focuses behind you to show Loki pause loading his gun to look at you with horror in his eyes*

"Well, we got ten seconds," Loki mentioned, scrutinising the Groza in his hand quite subjectively, "let's see who our opponents are." Lulu and Javie (along with his camera) were already out of the shed and standing over a platform twelve feet high with a view of the entire place from the edge of the boundary, just like an umpire in a tennis match. They could see you four coming out to take a look at the enemy. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me," you groaned, "I can't KILL THEM!" "'Sup, Nat." "Clint." "Hey guys," Peter waved through his Spider-man costume with a Scar-L in his hand that started slipping down till his hand came back to lift it up. "Well, this is awkward," Rhodey announced. "Hey, uncle Rhodes," you waved quite defeatedly. "Where's your fourth teammate?" Something cracked the sky and the clouds rumbled till a figure came down with a boom, vibrating the ground with his superhero landing. The little sparks coming out from everywhere. "Sorry I'm late," Thor announced, being handed a gun by Rhodey. "You had to ask," Loki growled at you.

Four Minutes Later Blue Team (You): 10 Red Team (Them): 20 The camera is hovering over the shed to see the four breathless teammates respawning and sitting down for a minute in their self-declared timeout. "Okay, we clearly cannot let you go out there in the front," Nat announced in your direction. Loki nodded in agreement. "Out of their twenty kills you have died fifteen times. Fifteen, Y/N." "I told you I am bad at it," you cried, "I can either reload my fucking gun or run away from the enemy. I CANNOT DO BOTH!" "Move your feet. I told you this last time too. Move. Your. Feet!" Loki pressed in your direction. "We need to come up with something else," Bucky added, "or this will the last thing the two of you argue about." You and Loki looked at each other with some concern reflecting in your eyes before Loki's gaze transformed into one of confusion as he watched you surely lie down and shoot, the bullet grazing right past his ear to kill a mad Thor- shooting anywhere and everywhere- point blank with a headshot. There was confusion. There was a surprise. There was even a little admiration in three pair of eyes. "H-how did you do that?" Bucky asked what everyone else was thinking. You shifted your gaze between the three eagerly-waiting teammates. "Uhh...I just laid myself down, aimed through the scope and took the shot. It's easy when I'm not moving. I just told you that," you shrugged. Loki could feel his head tilted in some thought while his eyes were stuck on you. "Okay. I think I know what we need to do."

The first one to come out of the shed was Bucky, his guns at ready as he slid across the length of the ground to take out Rhodes and Clint. "Now, Nat!!" He yelled and three bullets were all it took to take out Peter and Thor, right in the skull. "Go! Go! Go!" She shouted, and you and Loki went out in the other direction. Loki gave you cover while you climbed the roof of the little outlet by the shed and positioned yourself to take the shots from there." "Bucky! Rhodey at your ten! Nat! Slide into the warehouse for cover. Loki, Thor's climbing the eagle point." Rhodey slid away from Bucky's attack but did not see the scope aiming for him from his back, killing him right there. "Yes!" You grunted before yelling, "sorry uncle Rhodey!" "Don't give your position, you dumb woman!" "Right, right," you shook yourself and let your team tell you the position fo the enemy through the comms.

Three Minutes Later Blue Team: 38 Red Team: 30 "I'm outta ammo!" Nat yelled into her comms. Bucky shot down Thor. "Here ya go!" he announced, letting the Black Widow gather the loot before progressing to the other side. "I'm out too!" Loki declared, discarding his gun to leap forward and take down Rhodey by grabbing his waist. Using his own gun on him, Loki tsked. "Nothing personal, Rhodes." But the next thing was a bullet through his skull as Clint shot from the rooftop of the shed. First Loki, then Bucky and then Natasha. You could see your teammates respawn in the shelter, the anxiety of having the gap being filled so quick getting on your nerves. "The grenades," you mind shot the words out of your mouth before your brain could comprehend them. "The grenades!" Taking two of them out, you swung them towards Bucky, who ran up the ramp of an old engine and yeeted it to the other side, in return getting hit by Peter's swinging figure carrying Loki's stolen Groza. Three seconds later a bang was heard on the other side, with one more kill in your kitty and the score coming to thirty-nine. Peter was still running towards you, the web shot to the top of the shed to make a turn to where you were settled, aiming dead on for you. Loki and Nat covered the other side. Bucky ran forward with more of his grenades. "KILL HIM!!" Loki and Nat yelled in your direction, not realising that Clint has changed his position and now was settled on the top of the gazebo, shooting them point-blank, bringing the Red Team's count up to thirty-seven. You aimed for Peter and fired; only to find the rifle empty. "Fuck," you gasped, "fuck fuck fuck I'm out. I'M OUT!!" Time moved slowly. Real slow. Peter's swinging figure got closer by the minute while he reloaded his AKM in the air. Loki, Nat and Bucky respawned in the shed, frozen with fear in their eyes as they saw you struggle from where they stood till your eyes moved towards your waist and then back at Peter. A screamed began to form in the back of the throat as Peter's toes found the edge of the metal you were standing on while the pan in your hand found Peter's face, impact so hard that it came with nothing less than an intention to kill. The graphic show of blood sputtering in the air as Peter's body felt itself go back and down on the ground while your eyes remained shut tight, waiting for the bullet to hit you. The silence that proceeded after the smack was defeaning. And the sudden alarm overhead declaring you winners even worse. But the elation it brought was delayed, though late than never. "We won?" you asked. "We won!" Loki answered, more surprised than you. Every other character disappeared save for you and Loki. And without much thought, you jumped with shrill excitement in your voice from the roof right into Loki's arms. "WE WON!!" you shouted on the top of your lungs while wrapping your legs around Loki's arms, who was riding the same wave of victory as you. His arms wrapped around you tight while he howled to the moons. "I cannot believe we won!" you declared through the tears of joy while holding Loki's face in your arms. "I know! Me neither!" He acknowledged your buzz with his own, laughing along with you. What the two of you did not notice was the change in your surroundings, the playground shifting back to the little antique shop with Javi and Lulu standing right next to the two of you, watching the laughter shared between you two die down slowly but your positions still remained the same. Your hands cupping Loki's cheeks and his arms securing your waist, holding you safely. The chortle that now turned into heavy smiles seemed to carry this weird current in the air between the two of you. So enchanting and curious that even when the smiles seemed to fade, you two still stood there gazing into each other's eyes. "Looks like luck was on your side." It was the Djinn's voice that broke this new trance and you feel yourself getting red hot as Loki helps you down.

Throats are cleared. Greetings are shared with Lulu and Javi. A respectable distance is set between the two of you and ears are lent to what this white dude has to say now. "So, we are free to go now." Loki's voice commanded more than requested. The bowed his head. "You can leave with your free will. While you are here, you can buy something from my shop too. If I may interest you in-" "Nope," you state and turn to walk out of there without another word, everyone else following you- Loki being the last person out of the shop but not before he has given one good look at the Djinn.

The final smack with the pan left everyone speechless, their first thought being to make sure Peter- who sitting smack in the middle on the sofa- not taking it personally. But they were more astounded when the final score was declared and the boy lept from his seat to yell in celebration of the victory. A second later, everyone else was yelling with him, going crazy at the screen, dazzled by the final blow. In between the loud celebratory howls, some Avengers missed Scott and Peter looking at the screen when you jumped into Loki's arms and wrapped your legs around him. They also missed these two give out a shrill cry of some latent emotions resurfacing and Scott fainting at the mere scene of watching you two so close while Peter seems to find it hard to breathe, wheezing for air. The camera focused on Natasha looking at the two of them with a slight wrinkle in her brows before turning to the camera

The Lounge Scott sat with a laptop, working on something with quite the concentration that worried a very hungry Peter and Bucky making footlongs in the kitchenette. "I've never seen him this serious. Even when he's working with Banner or Stark. Or fangirling hard around Steve," Bucky whispered to Peter. Peter too nodded in agreement while sprinkling olives on their subs like Saltbae. "You think he's reading fanfics and finding character faults again?" Bucky wondered for a second before clicking his tongue. "Nah. He is always cooing at new writers and pushing them to keep writing. I'm sure this is different." "Scott, what's up?" Scott looked up from the screen at Peter and Bucky coming to him. "Oh, nothing. Just correcting some things here and there in Loki's Sim town. Odin kinda died in Asgard Island because that dude was too stubborn to go to the toilet that was cheap. Frigga is taking care of her garden and pets. And here we have the facility where Clint is only allowed to roam the outside. Look he has his own next in the backyard." "That's pretty cool," Bucky mutters seriously. "Yeah, isn't it? And here are others inside. These are the dorms. Nat and Banner are a couple and for some reason, you and Steve are living in the same room." The camera panned in on a look of two-second horror on Bucky's face before reverting to its normal self. "What?" he forced out a laugh, scratching an itch on his neck, "why would we be sleeping together?" Scott shrugged and Bucky shot a glance at the camera before going back to looking at the screen. "Why would Loki keep the two of y-" "Not relevant," Bucky declared, "moving on!" Both Peter and Scott exchanged a look with the camera before doing so with each other and then finally turning around to look at Bucky. "Oh my God, Bucky," Scott whispered. "We have another OTP!" Peter whispered, bumping fist with Scott without looking.

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Issues (Carter Baizen x You)

Characters: Carter Baizen x Fem! Reader.

Summary: You've seen it on the news. Carter Baizen and a woman who can make your insecurities go wild. Serena Van der Woodsen kissing the love of your life.

Prompt: "I want to help you through this, I really do, just not as your girlfriend.", "Please, just stay a little longer.", "Why won't you admit it?!", "When she told you to leave, you should have stayed." (Forgot where I got this from, but I think its from Tumblr)

Warning: Mention of ya'no but no ya'no? Do ya get me? Heehee! 😂 Sad reader and Carter. ANGST!

Words: 1,600+ (This was supposed to only be a drabble but what happened. Damn it.

A/N: THIS IS MY FIRST ONE SHOT OF CARTER. PLEASE BE GOOD TO ME. I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT THE PLOT OF GOSSIP GIRL. I'VE JUST WATCHED SCENES WHERE SEB IS IN IT AND I TRIED TO KNOW HIS BACKGROUND BY ASKING MY FRIEND. I'M NO CARTER BAIZEN EXPERT. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE TYPOS AND GRAMMATICAL ERRORS. I'M CURRENTLY SICK WHILE WRITING THIS AND I DECIDED TO UPDATE SO Y'ALL KNOW I'M ALIVE AND KICKING. HEEHEE!

LIKE, COMMENT AND REBLOG PLEASE, TATER TOTS?

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS and pictures.

Oneshot taglists: @anxiousamandapanda

You've heard the news. It was on the internet and even spread by Gossip Girl itself. People of Manhattan knew you were his girlfriend. The accused gold-digger, garbage collector of some rich woman's trash that you gladly accepted because you were more of a trash than Carter Baizen in the flesh.

You huffed, trying to ignore the way his eyes were pale waves of the ocean that meant that tears were threatening to fall as you finally bursted his happy bubble.

"I want to help you through this, I really do, just not as your girlfriend." You mumbled, clicking your tongue out of habit. You could feel his gloomy, piercing blue eyes staring right through you. Begging for you not to leave his miserable, pathetic, complicated ass.

"No," Carter pleaded, his voice turning smaller like you were slowly killing him. You were. On the inside. "Please don't do this," He repeated over and over again, wanting nothing more than to fall down on his knees and keep his arms around your knees, praying to the heavens that you wouldn't leave him. "Please, just stay a little longer."

Your eyes were stinging for it to leave tears from your eyes. But, you didn't want to cry. No. You didn't want to cry for Carter. Despite of how you gave the only thing that you could give. Your heart. "Do you really love me?" You spat, staring straight into his puffy, reddish Steele blue eyes that looked nothing but hurt. "Or is it still Serena?"

The question made him shake his head furiously, he knew how insecure you were with the famous, rich, gorgeous, meticulous Serena Van der Woodsen.

Well, who were you anyways? You were just a mere human who works as a waitress in a restaurant in which you happen to meet Carter Baizen who was dating Serena back then.

"Y/N--" He started, his eyes pricking tears that were threatening to fall any minute now. "Why won't you admit it?!" You shouted, completely hopeless and wanted nothing more than to erase the fresh memories of Carter kissing Serena in a field full of trees.

"It's you! It's been you all along, Y/N!" Carter answered back with the same intensity. Though his eyes tell different. Carter didn't want to lose you, however he fucked up. He knew he fucked up and because of it he knows what consequences will be charged from his stupidity. "You know I love you,"

"Wow," You faked a laugh. Those laugh of yours was full of pain and betrayal. Carter had never seen you laugh so hostile and he wanted nothing more than to bring back the time and push Serena out of his way. "I've never heard that in months, Baizen."

"--When she told you to leave, you should have stayed." You muttered nonchalantly, voice all monotone and swerving his eyes as you stare at the parked car beside you. Your next words adding salt to the wounds he created. "So, you wouldn't have used somebody else's heart for the sake of your happiness,"

Traitors. Your tears were your best traitors because it fell before you could even know it. Carter tried to reach out for you, he planned to wipe away those tears that he happened to make. Though, all his plans were wasted when you pushed his hands away with fury. Spitting your next words like it was vile. "That is if you were even happy with me!"

Your tears were left to dry from the city's polluted air and Carter can do nothing but stare at how his girl was breaking because of his doing. It was all his fault. Everything was. "--Because you've meant the world to me, Carter." Your voice began to helplessly crack and Carter could only stare back at you with his bloodshot eyes. Everything you were saying was giving him pain because seeing you burst and cry in front of him was the last thing he wanted to see.

Yet, you still did and it was because of his mistakes.

It was like your hands have a mind of its own when it automatically lifted halfway through to wipe the subtle tears that fell on the sides of Carter's eyes. Though, he was quick to harshly wash it away with the back of his hands. Not wanting to let you see how bad you were breaking him but he was too late.

You choked in your own tears, as you stuttered. The undeniably painful truth was hurting you the most. "I-Is it because I'm not those high-socialites you've hanged out with?"

After a blink, another tear came flowing down your face. You were lucky you didn't use any mascara because if you did, you probably looked horrible as hell as of the moment. It was like your tongue felt numb, some kind of bane that poisoned your tongue from saying the next painful, distressing truth. "Or is it because I wasn't as beautiful as Serena or Blaire?"

From the moment you said those words, Carter was quick to grab your face with his soft palms, his Steele blue eyes completely broken in despair. Desperate to wash away those horrible thoughts that was haunting your self-confidence or yourself.

"D-Don't say that!" He pleaded, tenderly wiping your tears away with his thumbs. You gave in and let him hold you like you were fragile. You just missed how he cradled you when you were feeling down. The look in your eyes made him desperately scan your face. You bit your lip, attempting to stop the tears from falling but that just made it fall even more. "I-I know I am not the slightest ideal woman that you've ever wanted, Car." You paused, sniffing. "I have never been," You choked, voice cracking and sounding hoarse from the cries. "And the only useful thing that I could do was to love you unconditionally,"

Carter have desperately grabbed onto you, wrapping his desperate arms around you and constantly giving your forehead a lot of desperate kisses which came with his pleads. "No, no, no," His voice cracked as he sobbed through his beseeching. "I love you, Y/N."

"--I love you very much,"

He hugged you tight. So tight that you were wondering how you were able to breath. You could faintly smell the masculine, spicy scent of his cologne that you loved that was always trapped in your sheets whenever he came over to spend the night. Though, you might need to not get used it anymore.

"No,no,no.." Carter pleaded for the hundredth time, hastily grabbing your face and melting into his gorgeous, watery, Steel blue eyes. "Don't go. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It was all a misunderstanding! You got it all wrong--"

You blinked, hopelessly staring back into his eyes. Completely disappointed and broken. "I know what I saw, Carter! I'm poor, uneducated but not entirely stupid!" On a weak attempt, you grabbed onto his hands. Unclasping his hands as he dropped it on either side of him defeatedly.

Carter wanted nothing more than to keep you in his arms. His faithless eyes pierced into your pained heart, snapping the melancholy state of Carter Baizen, saving it inside the memories that you've been keeping to remember it forever.

"Good bye, Carter Baizen." You spun on your heels, another set of tears falling from the sides of your eyes like Niagara falls. Your next words seeming quieter as it cracked for the tenth time.

"I hope it hurts to think of me,"

Y/N hoped at the back of her mind. Wanting nothing more than for Carter Baizen to cry in his sleep. As he tries to remember how precious and important she ever was in his complicated life.

"What am I going to do without you?" Carter whispered, his breath hitting your ear. The both of you were cuddled in his king sized bed, his warmth was enveloping you in a hug. Not that he wasn't being the big spoon and you were the little spoon. You shivered as his fingers cascaded from your arms towards your back. The coldness of his rings was comforting you in a way that can make your heart beat pump so hard, knowing that only one touch can make you feel like you were in cloud 9. It was definitely the Baizen effect that only he can give.

You laughed ever so tiredly from your previous toing and froing beneath the sheets. "Probably crash and burn?"

"I bet cha', Baby." Carter chuckled, lifting his head to lightly kiss your naked shoulder.

Crash and burn. Well, the same goes for you if it was the other way around.

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

Text

Obsession’s Chains

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Ally watched the snow flurries hurl past the window of the Wraith, feeling its breathing anger as it tore through the oncoming blizzard, and yet the freezing bluster could not compare to the cold inside the car.

She could feel him, even though she couldn't look at him, that distrust, that wounded anger that screamed without him saying a word. I'm sorry, Charlie, I'm so sorry. You damned crazy chick....... Vic's fury ripped through her mind like a howling wind, as she watched the onslaught of the eternal winter, the way the frost formed, etching itself in sparkling trails across the window, shivering in the face of what she'd just done. You just made a deal with the DEVIL, Jane........ Vic hissed. She's right....... I was free....... We did it, we........ won. She thought with another full bodied chill. Damn straight. All you had to do, Ally, was freaking walk away, but you just couldn't do it, could you? No....... Why the HELL not!? Because I was free........ but he was dead.

Ally shuddered as the cool leather of his glove brushed against her feverish cheek, one hand drawing back her curls. His eyes were like black frost as he looked at her, seized with that bitter cold, and seething froth that could only come from the dry ice concoction of love and hate felt to a deathly extreme.

"Charlie-" She breathed his name in the most tender ache, the sweet beguiling sound, robbing him of his clung-to hatred even as he held fast against such audacious charm. Beware that voice....... He could feel it, that desperation to ease his torment, even while she was the one in the cage.

She gasped as his glove moved swiftly over her soft lips, pressing hard, his fingers curling, clasping her mouth tight, coaxing her hot breath against his palm, and his other hand twitched on the Wraith's steering wheel.

"Not so fast, Allyssa Jolene....... Whatever desperate apologies and pleads you have planned for my sake, after so loathsome a stunt, I beg you to spare me," He growled, swerving up to the entrance, met by the towering twin candy canes, and twinkling coloured lights of the Christmasland Gates, his return heralded by the splendid ache of, "Last Christmas," trumpeting through the frosty air. How fitting, he thought with a vicious smirk.

"Welcome back to Christmasland, Mrs. Manx," He snickered cruelly, firmly muzzling her trembling mouth, unmoved by her morose green eyes. "I regret to say you return not as our most beloved queen, but as a disgraced traitor......" He snarled leaning closer, his furious exhale catching in her hair. Thankfully, your slighted husband is kind enough to welcome you back with open arms. However, you may find your festive kingdom far less, shall we say, hospitable. You'll have to toil for my generous forgiveness, My Dear, not in soft, spoken words, but with your entire body, starting with that hand. The crown is yours to win back, but if you dare make a move against me again, I will strike it forever from your dear little head, and I fear you'll find yourself in chains. Take your punishment, like a good girl, however, and I, of course, shall reward you immeasurably."

He felt his injured hatred softening, as he looked at her, so willing to comply, so repentant, making no move to pull away, eliciting no cry of protest, no adverse intent to his will, submitting in silent grace. He gently withdrew his hand from her mouth, feeling that worrisome and familiar ache in his heart, losing yet again to the love of her. I love you, Ally, but I HATE what you do to me, how you rule me. Love....... brings out the worst in us. And yours could be the RUIN of me.

"Charles....... I accept my punishment, though I pray you do not harden your heart against me. That is an admonishment, I could not survive." She whispered, out of breath, as the gates parted to let them pass.

"Nor I," He whispered back harshly, hating that it was true. As badly as he wanted to punish his pretty wife for her unfortunate rebellion, he couldn't carry out the sentence she deserved, and banish her, not from his home....... not from his love.

As the Wraith rolled forward, Charles felt himself melt into a sly smile, and he had to admit, in spite of the scathing betrayal, he was impressed by how clever she'd been, coaxing him out of his gloves, commandeering his car. My Fearless Little Femme Fatale, who knew you had it in you? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't touched, you choosing me over your eternal freedom, not knowing what I'm going to do to you.

He slammed on the brakes, and the Wraith screeched along the snow covered road, an intrusion of loud, white static glowing brighter and brighter around Ally, until she disappeared completely from her seat in a blinding flash, the car door still firmly locked. He let out a furious scream, tearing out of the car, searching for her in the whirl of snowfall.

"ALLYYYYYY!!!! WHERE ARE YOU!?!? ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!!!!"

He howled, dashing through the snow, until he found her, stricken, fighting tears, looking bewildered at him as he grasped her forearms, his eyes murderous, the static still encircling her like a halo.

"Is this h-how you mean to punish me, Charles? Ripping me from your inscape, banishing me from Christmasland!?"

"No, NEVER!!!" He snarled, yanking her along after him. "What fresh treachery is this!? You PLANNED this, you and that BITCH, I'm a damned FOOL!!! What a show, what a performance-!"

"NO!!!! Please!!! Charles, listen to me, I-I'm not doing this- I would never- I don't know what's happening!"

"LIAR!!!" He seethed, his teeth bared, wrenching her arm, dragging her back to the car, when she slammed up against the empty air, colliding with it like an unyielding wall, falling back into the snow.

"CHARLES!!! Charles, I promise you, I'm not doing this!!!!" She sobbed, as he grabbed for her in a panic, trying to pull her through the powerful shield, and this time she managed to go further, the projected force bending slightly with a strobing white haze, but the moment he let go of her hand, she was thrown back.

It hit him full force, as the static and white noise intensified her outline, the glimmering guilt flooding his dark eyes, and he was all too aware of why his Snow Angel was rudely being denied entrance to his merry inscape. I've been doing a little dabbling with your soul, My Sweet....... It appears there are some severely adverse effects....... He flew to her, and she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he grunted, pulling her with great effort through the resistant gale of the flashing white glow, backing into it, as he pulled her into him. The wall beating airily against his back like an angry wave.

"Charles!!!! Charles, I'm so scared!!!" She cried out, burying her curly head in his shoulder, and he clinged to the back of it, the wind resistance, sending his coif to skew, her curls to scatter, blowing them in his face, his long, navy coat billowing in the unforgiving wind, her dress snapping around her bare legs.

"Hold onto me!!!" He yelled over the thundering sound, and with one final tug, she broke through the invisible wall, both of them collapsing in a heap, her on top of him, the breakneck gale, reduced to deafening silence.

"Charles, I promise, it wasn't me, please........" She pleaded through her tears, her trembling fingers clutching the blue velvet collar of his coat, and he reached up to brush his lips against hers, swallowing his guilt.

"I believe you."

**********

Charlie Manx cradled his terrified bride in his arms, as she hugged his neck, her long white skirt trailing along the wood floor of the hallway, her bare legs dangling, and he paused at the threshold to their bedroom, struck by the sublime irony, with a sardonic eyebrow raise.

"Ah yes, the sacred tradition of carrying the blushing bride across the threshold into eternal wedded bliss. How amusing....... We neglected the act on our wedding night, and here we are, poised with a second chance. Call me a superstitious man, but I suspect this oversight was where our problems first began. Might I suggest we not tempt fate yet again........?"

Ally's trembling lip eased itself into a fond smile, and Charlie smiled his most charming, as he swept her into the room, with a spin, holding his young bride just as he would have that night, allowing her a taste of heaven, before he let the hell around them rise.

She felt a giggle escape her lips, her windswept curls falling in her alight green eyes, and for the most fleeting of moments, she was again the newlywed Mrs. Manx, her bliss perfect, a woman madly in love, the night alive with such promised passion.

"We did forget, didn't we......? What bad luck we invited into our marriage!!! Might we have fixed it with our cheerful re-enactment, Charles? I suppose there was one other sacred act that fell to the wayside that night.........." She whispered softly, and he felt a quiver in his own lip, as he looked down at her, wanting her even more badly than he had then, choosing to violate her creative power, over letting her bequeath herself to him, body and soul. If given the choice now, Victoria's near fatal collision would not have been his priority. Oh how it could have waited..........

"Surprising isn't it? On both accounts. We were so enamoured, so wrapped up in each other after the ceremony......... I couldn't stop kissing you, touching you........"

He closed his eyes, remembering it in a desirous, besotted haze, this beautiful girl made his forever, with no hope of escape, deliciously oblivious to the horror that lay waiting in her new husband's heart.

"I'm still wrapped up in you......" She whispered breathily, and he sighed deeply, fighting his vicious attraction, and losing. No, I will not be so easily swayed this time. Seduce me twice...... Shame on you, Wife. I'm in control now, I'm the one holding the pen.

He hastily set her down in front of the canopied bed, trying not to look at the curve of her white legs, slightly red with cold. He could feel her disappointment, as he moved away from her, thrashing back the tenderness that always seemed to bloom between them. And yet, she did not run to him, or beg, or plead, she handled the slight with quiet grace, and he looked approving as she hung those mangled curls in shame. Yes, My Bride, submit and show me just how sorry you REALLY are.

"How much BETTER to have waited, Mrs. Manx," he chortled cruelly, slowly starting to pace in front of her, his eyes fixed. "The gesture means so much more to me now, than the pretense it would have been. Now that you know exactly what you're in for........ The man you wed was a LIE, a fiction, a fabrication, created to better woo you. To better USE you."

Ally felt the sting of his words, as they struck, but she wasn't going to make it that easy for him. "No Charles........" She said tremulous in a half whisper, her voice bleeding with that tenderness he couldn't escape. "I see him........ The man I married, the man I loved Once Upon a December........ I see him shining behind coal black eyes, and I know, everything he said, everything he felt, everything he was........ is real. You're not half the monster you insist on being. He's there, and I can save him........ if you'll let me."

Charles turned on her venomously, his black eyes pure poison, watching her wither in the hatred of his gaze, his pacing becoming more violent, with a furious whirl of his coat.

"You SEE only what I WANT you to see!!! The man you seek to save does not exist, Ally, he could not survive the monster, and while his was the light that brought you here, it is the darkness you have taken as your lover."

He stopped pacing and narrowed his smouldering eyes at her, his intense brow furrowed with dark intentions.

"What am I going to do with you.......?"

"You're going to punish me.........." She whispered meekly, in sorrowful defeat, her curly head downcast, and there was that delectable tinge of fear. How intoxicating, for you to both love and fear me in the same escaped breath.

Charles felt his hunched shoulders relax, and his expression softened, gently moving in closer, and she trembled at his touch, his whisked forefinger across her cheek, using his thumb to bring her head back up, as he cooed. "Ohhh my Sweet Wife........ Of COURSE, I'm going to punish you...... He pet the back of her head in a slow stroke, bringing her closer, his voice soothing, "But first....... I'm going to reward you...... for coming back to me."

Before she could take her next breath, Charles forced his lips over hers, taking them mercilessly, kissing and kissing her with reckless fury. She gasped against his lips, and it was like the hypnotic dance in the snowglobe, she couldn't help herself joining him, mirroring his passion, kissing him back in a haunted trance, hungering for his lips.

He forced her up against the foot of the bed, feeling her chest rise and fall against his, both of them breathless, his forceful affection turning her head, as he took control of her lips the same way he'd done with her hands. Effortlessly. He kissed her harder, angry and suffocating, like a man possessed by the darker side of his desire, in such stark contrast to the gentleman bridegroom that kissed and held her like a glass figure. I'm going to shatter you, my porcelain bride, until you beg for me to do it again........ and again.

He remembered how sneakily he'd tried to undo the laces at her breast, to no avail, last time, and he felt the rollicking thrill as he realized no such quarter need be granted now. His nostrils flared, kissing her deeply, his lips possessive, stealing her air, and he tore off his glove, shoving it into his chauffer coat's pocket, his claws poised, yanking open her laces with an open mouthed murmur.

Ally gasped against the violence of the kiss, as she felt the release of the loosened laces, her hand flying to her clavicle to keep her neckline from falling open.

He stopped kissing her in a lustful exhale, his dark eyes darting to the covered indent, and he eyed her until she let her hand fall away, already guessing his demand. He grinned wickedly, eying now the soft, dove white cleavage, biting his lip.

"You are....... the most incandescently beautiful creature ever I have beheld."

The burn rushed to her cheek, and he watched her breath catch, using that moment to fling her back onto the bed, and she acquiesced, falling back, her eyes glittering, nervous, excited, a little...... well, physically enthralled, and he drank in the sight of it, her wanting him, just as he was, not only the pretty paper, but the duplicity wrapped therein.

He hunched over her, a devious glint in his eye, as his lips found the soft curve of her bare ankle, kissing with slow, euphoric relish, in so scandalous a manner, such as Cassie Manx would have found reprehensible. A woman's ankles were a forbidden article in his time....... How unseemly, Charles, do attempt some decorum!!! He could hear her grating chastise, even as his younger wife elicited her own murmur of utter, pleasurable delight. She always was the practical one, the most petulant realist, wasn't she? No open mind, never one to choose her husband's pleasures over her own. Selfish shrew. He felt his heart quicken, pressing his open mouth over her other ankle, watching her toes curl, as she breathed her stunned satisfaction. You're nothing so hatefully provincial, Allyssa, you're just like me...... We crave the elusive taste of the fantastical. We're romantics, impassioned souls, freed from the constructs of reality. She could never love me as you do, because she did not understand my particular magic. Nothing creative or inspired about that miserable woman.

"Charles-" Ally moaned his name, and he grazed his long, razor sharp nails up and down her bare leg, scraping across the satin feel of it, bowing his dark head to kiss behind her knee, granting the slightest little nip, feeling her skin prickle beneath his hands.

"Oh my God......." She whimpered, and he could feel her breathless ache, as he fed her addiction, running his nails up her body, as he crawled over her, clasping a dainty wrist in each of his encircled claws, forcing her head back with the power of his passion.

She kissed him back in a fever, crazed, surrendering her petal soft lips, letting his ease hers open, pulling free one of her hands from his grasp, to touch his face. He viciously broke the kiss, with a scolding growl, both of them breathing hard.

"Did I say....... you could move?"

She sank further back into the bed, and he watched shamelessly as the loosened laces at her opened neckline danced while her chest rose and fell with the exertion.

"No," She whispered, trembling, and he snapped up the wrist she had just pulled free, his eyes commanding.

"Good. Don't. I'm in control. Say it."

"You're- You're in c-control." Ally breathed, feeling disoriented, her head swimming, secretly enamoured by this forceful, domineering side of him, telling her what to do, not being careful with his breakable doll at all, so reckless, possessive, dangerous, it was an intoxication.

Charlie simpered his approval, nodding with an eyebrow raise. "Good girl....... Free will is just an illusion, remember that, My Sweet. We tried it your way, and now we'll do it mine......... My gloves are the ones guiding yours, and deny it as you might, but you're BETTER for it," He besieged her lips again, pressing his thumbs against both of her wrists, feeling her breath hot against his mouth, as he applied pressure.

"I should CHAIN you to this bed, and never let you out of this room......" He rasped salaciously, rubbing his thumbs over and over her wrists, feeling her pulse quicken. "My, how entirely lovely these delicate wrists would look encircled in irons. The thought beckons........"

"Oh Charlie!" She mouthed back, and he kissed her a little softer, though he did not relinquish his hold, spreading her arms, as he pinned her flush to the white linen.

"Things are going to be much changed around here, My Pretty Prisoner........" He smirked, and Ally recoiled as the sharp edge of that hateful instrument of ink and hellfire, brushed teasingly against her lip.

"Do you see this?" He taunted, displaying it with sadistic flourish, releasing her wrists. "This belongs to me now, do you understand? You will use it how and when I want, but your knife is no longer under your control. I own it, and the hands that wield it."

She nodded solemnly, and watched him slip it back into the silk lining of his blood red waistcoat, feeling herself shudder as he pressed his lips hard to the back of her knuckles.

"Your unfettered freedom in my inscape is all but revoked, My Snow Queen. Until you can win back your crown, prove yourself worthy of my trust, you will need to be escorted by me, personally, any place you wish to go, pending my approval, of course......"

He leaned down, tenderly kissing her forehead, and she could feel the sincere apology on his lips, even before he gave it breath. "Forgive me this necessary cruelty....... but you will not be permitted to see your children, until such a time as I deem you do not intend to spirit them away from their home. I am sorry, but it must be this way......."

He gritted his teeth, his gaze a dark threat, his back arching with his ire, as he leaned over her. "And if you so much as touch my car again, or even THINK the name Vic........ I will be forced to take......... measures.

Ally shivered beneath his body, having no need for him to elaborate, and he relaxed against her, kissing her cheek in a soothe. "Nevermind that, for if tonight is any indication, your absolution is soon coming....... He whispered, his voice ripe with desire. Until then....... I am going to take such pleasure in your punishment........."

Her heart stopped in a seize, her surprised elicit escaping in a drawn out, breathy murmur, as he lowered his lips to her neckline, pressing them flush to her feminine cleft, kissing generously with parted lips, inching his kiss down into it, and then in easeful sigh, he nestled his head to her soft, sensitive breast.

She couldn't speak, couldn't even form words, her mind numb, and her hands cradled his head there, against her womanly curves, drifting through his silky, raven hair, stroking his strong, freshly-shaven jaw with her other fingers, her cheeks burning red. It may not be altogether ladylike to admit, but she loved him laying on her chest, so close to her beating heart.

"Don't you EVER leave me again." His voice began as an angry, volatile rasp, but ended in the broken sound of a desperate man.

"I'm sorry, My Love, I'm so sorry." She cried, green eyes miserable, stroking his silky, ebony waves and he hugged her body to his cheek, knowing how much control he had over her, how he could make her want him, make her dance, yanking her strings, and yet he also knew, to a distressing degree, how much control she had over him.......

She hugged him back, closer to her chest, and he loosened his crimson cravat, sweltering in the exquisite heat between them. That lingering, insatiable need to be closer.

"What Beautiful Wickedness, My Handsome Phantom, My Dark-Eyed Dream......." She whispered as she kissed the top of his head, and he felt himself melt beneath her lips.

He could have stayed like this forever, fallen fast asleep, pillowed upon so pleasing a swell, so soothed by her heartbeat's lullaby. Instead of indulging in this long-held fantasy, however, and giving into even more diabolical designs, everything within him sounded its protest as he pulled himself off of her, knowing exactly what had to be done, taking her wrist in hand, and concentrating hard as he encircled it in kisses.

Ally giggled, roving her fingers deeply though his soft, feathery black strands, leaving not even a remnant of his carefully slicked coif, beaming at him, with so much love in her heart that it physically hurt them both. He was so beautiful..... The most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, a miracle named Manx, drawn to his dark allure, and malevolent elegance, with a mad obsession. Punish me all you wish, especially if that punishment is this, but Charlie you cannot silence my love.

"You silly boy!!! Whatever are you doing?" She giggled as he whirled his hand airily around the wrist he'd just ringed in kisses, before snapping her other hand out of his hair, and pressing his lips along the curve of that wrist as well."

He smirked devilishly, his lip curling, his eyes intensifying, and his voice chilled her to the bone as he said it.

"Creating........"

She giggled again, but he sensed a wariness in that music that she tried so hard to hide, and his lips twisted up into a wry smile, satisfied with his work.

He coaxed her off the bed with another demanding kiss, pulling her up against him, as she pressed her lips to his, all too willingly, letting him lead her to the window, a luminous canvas of Christmasland at night.

He broke the kiss with a smug chuckle, playfully pushing her away, his eyes all mischief, stepping back slowly from her, towards the bedroom door.

"Somebody's in quite the playful humour, and I LOVE it!!!" She giggled, and he carefully brushed his finger under her chin, as she moved to follow him.

"As do I, Wife. Let's play. Come give chase. Let us see if absence cannot make the heart grow fonder, and chain anything so fickle as a woman's love."

She frowned, the edge in his voice giving her pause. "Charles, soft........ What mean you by this?"

"Come find out," He taunted with beckoning eyes, curling his finger flirtatiously as he brought it toward him.

Ally shook her loose curls, confused, but willing to play along, rushing to catch him, when she felt herself yanked back towards the window.

No no no, not again! She tried to pull free of the hold, yanking her arm towards her but something felt off, it wasn't a wall like before, it was airy, suspended, yes, but somehow almost..... tangible. She gave one more desperate pull before she saw them form around her wrists, ethereal white cuffs, glowing with a blue halo, appearing and disappearing just as fast with every frantic tug.

"I told you...... You'd look devastatingly lovely in chains, and these were made special just for you."

"CHARLES, NO!!! PLEASE, how CAN you do this!? Do not leave me, not like this!!! Please, Charles, have I not behaved as your perfect saint!?" Ally felt the stunned tears stream from her eyes, and Charlie snickered coldly, as she fought the floating irons, shaking them soundlessly, trying to pry one of the cuffs from her wrist.

"Save yourself the trouble, Sugar Plum, it's no use....... You'll only make yourself tired, and believe me, you'll need your strength for what comes next. My, yes, you have, and your pretty glowing bracelets will make sure you stay behaved."

He turned his handsome cheek inward, snidely, and she reached out for him, in a hopeless ache. "But I-I chose you.........."

He scoffed bitterly, his eyes black and biting. "No....... You chose HER first. You chose her, Ally, and for that you must be disciplined. So have I lavished my affection, now will I STARVE you of it, until you go so mad with the wanting of me, that nothing or no one can use you against me again!"

"Please, don't leave...... Keep me in these binds forged by your own imagination, but I pray you, My Charles........ don't leave me."

Charlie walked coolly towards her, and knelt, white silk stockings in hand, and she froze as he kissed his way up her naked leg, running his nails across her thigh, before sliding her stocking up over it, carefully tying the laces.

He did the same with her other leg, and then moved for the door, before stopping to look over his shoulder at her, marveling at such a pale vision bathed in moonlight from the window. "To keep you warm...... while I'm away........." He simpered, with another eyebrow raise, referring to both the kisses and the stockings.

"I do not understand you, Charles....... You said if I did exactly as you asked, submitted myself entirely to you, I would not end up in chains......." Ally pleaded softly, despaired to the depths, her voice aching, coaxing, and he held fast against the heartbroken sound.

The deed is done, Sweet Wife, your sin already committed. This........" He gestured grandly, twirling his fingers through the air, his eyes haughty, and full of black smoke, "Is your atonement. How magnanimous of your beloved husband to devise a compromise, so that you do not have to feel the shame and weight of steel. It'd be a shame to bruise such delicate porcelain, would it not? You're welcome."

Charlie raised his dark brow cleverly, bowing, mock genteel, with elegant flourish, waving his arm, and then he left her there, just a sad little doll, so forlorn and forgotten. No woman, be she lover or foe, or especially both........ makes a fool out of Charles Manx.

Ally sank to her knees, sobbing profusely, overwhelmed by the inflicted wonder and horror this fateful night had wrought, still feeling his frost on her skin, her lips burning for more of his, and already his dastardly plan was working its will to devastated perfection. Her body hummed with his lashed out passion, kisses smouldering in their trace, reckless caresses with drawn claws, and she craved him more than she ever had before, hugging her knees to her chest to quiet the thunderous pulse of her heart. What have you done to me, Charles? What is this wildness you have unleashed in my heart, this untamed passion and nakedness of thought. She felt like she was vibrating, she could feel it in her spine, tingling all over, breathless. No, no wait. That wasn't the intensity of the craving, that was real, something........ something WAS vibrating.

She reached her manacled hands behind her back, and this time she heard an impatient buzz, slipping her fingers twixt the laces to work it from under her corset. What is this, my surreptitious lover, my scheming husband? Another parting gift? I fear it cannot slake the absence of you that my body laments in every unsatisfied tremble.

She pulled it free, frowning as she held it before her, the screen dark. A mobile? No, no it couldn't be. I haven't seen mine in months, I left it at the library the day I was........ She shivered as she thought the word. "Taken."

She clicked it on to find an angry succession of choice word texts, the last one being,

"Damn you, Jane, just freaking tell me you ain't dead........."

"Vic......." She whispered softly, remembering when the tough, do-not-touch-me girl, had clapped her back in an uncharacteristic show of friendship. You clever thing!!! Her fingers fumbled over the keys, her hands still restrained by the thin air, but she managed to type well enough, with some difficulty.

"Not dead. Not yet. Restricted wouldn't be too far of a stretch........" She bit her bottom lip. "He bought it, Vic. You may despise me for my impulse in the heat of the moment, but I have no regrets."

The ding was deafening, frantic, and her eyes darted back and forth over the scathing reprimand.

"DAMN IT, ALLY!!!! WHAT the FRICK were you thinkin!? You've put me through HELL, worryin' sick about you!!!! THAT WAS SO DAMNED STUPID!!!! I thought you were done for........"

Awwwww, and Charlie swore we, with our unlike natures couldn't be friends. She smiled sadly, tugging on the chains as she tapped out her response. "What can I say? I'm just one doe-eyed, ditzy, damned crazy chick."

"Yeah uhhh sorry about that, I was so freaking pissed at you for changing the game, I got a little carried away there, Jane. You ain't stupid, you just fell in love with the devil, that's all. You're damn right that bastard bought it, hell I bought it. You were right, we didn't stand a chance without somebody on the inside. Congrats on your way too convincing reconciliation, GOD, I sure as hell wouldn't wanna be you....... Stay alive, Harlequin."

"You too, Hell on Wheels. My darling man's gone out....... indefinitely, and it appears I've been....... detained, but I will keep you apprised of the events, and get you an audience with the children, with their father none the wiser."

"Aunt Vicki's gonna take them on a one-way trip out of this hellhole." She replied with a winking face, making Ally smile, feeling hopeful.

"Oh I'm sure they'd adore such an exciting outing! How doting of you! Save them first, Vic........ Even if you must leave me behind to suffer the Wrath of Manx."

"Stop it. I'm getting you out, Jane, I promise. Don't you even talk like that."

Ally looked down, pulling weakly on her chains, watching their soft, transcendent white-blue glow reappear, and then fade, just as fast, her pale face dismal.

"I don't know, Victoria........ I fear I shall remain ever a prisoner of his love. Obsession's chains are not so easily broken."

#charlie manx #charlie manx x oc #vic mcqueen #christmasland #nos4a2 #the wraith #paranormal romance #paradise for the lost

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limited-practice · 4 years

Text

Unstable Structure

I was talking with @jet-teeth about this post https://jet-teeth.tumblr.com/post/190467330915/starstruckswordsmech-autobots-the-reason-why and the great art she drew of it, and I got such a clear image of Intense Sunder on the left poking out a block with his needle tipped finger, Horrified Hubcap on the right, and Fed up Ambulon in the middle, and just had to write something. It was a great excuse to think about my favorites and to write something silly and fun.

2757 words of Sunder, Ambulon and Hubcap playing Jenga are under the cut.

Ambulon looked balefully at the tower of rectangular wooden blocks on the table in front of him. “Remind me why we have to play this again?”

“Well,” Hubcap said slowly, “It’s because Swerve- you know, the owner of the bar we’re all in? The metallurgist that likes Earth a lot?”

“I’m well aware of who our alt-mode curious barkeep is.”

“Ha, yeah, right. So. This is one of his favourite games and- and I think it was his birthday the other day and he wanted us all to celebrate it with him, so he told us to get into teams so we could play it together? In teams and compete with one another? Or maybe it was the anniversary of his bar opening. Or was it because it was the beginning of the week and he liked the name of the day?”

Ambulon tipped his head back and stared at the stained ceiling.

>he desires the company of others because he is lonely.

Sunder lent forward over the table and looked intently at the stack of blocks he’d finished building.

>there is a gaping chasm of nothingness circling his spark, and he’s sacred that it will pull him into its black depths and drown him by soft degrees. But he should not fear the darkness. He should learn to embrace it. He should learn how to hold it close and kiss it with the softness it deserves.

Ambulon swiveled his eyes to his teammate on his right.

Sunder’s hollow eye sockets bored into Ambulon’s face.

>you are never lonely in the dark.

Ambulon swiveled his eyes to his teammate on his left.

“Remind me why I got stuck on this table again?”

“That’s…” Hubcap bristled. “I don’t think you’re one to talk. Much.”

Ambulon raised his head and sat up straight. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Out of everyone on this table you’re, well, the only Decepticon. Ex-Decepticon. Teamwork isn’t exactly your, uh, strength.”

Ambulon lent forward and pointed a sharp finger at Hubcap’s Autobot badge. “Out of everyone on this table, I’m the only one who hasn’t murdered someone I worked with.”

“That’s-…true. So. Well. Right.” Hubcap grimaced. “Sorry. Um. Didn’t mean to cause offence there, and-”

“Yes you did.”

>yes you did.

“Look, can we just play? Please? I-…the two of you are looking at me and…and you haven’t even gone yet Sunder. You need to take your turn first because you built the tower.”

>the first to make their move is ahead of those who allow the insidious vines of doubt and decay to wrap their oily lengths around them and s q u e e z e out the light that never had a chance to breed.

“So…you’re thinking about it?”

Streams of dark air vented out of Sunder’s facial pipes and hung heavily around him, like a halo of corrupted smoke.

>I am not like the others.

Hubcap and Ambulon exchanged a look.

>I was born to build by taking away.

“Alright,” Ambulon said, in the weary tone of voice he used with a patient who thought they knew better but didn’t. “Let’s get this show on the road. If I lose to First Aid’s table then I’ve got deep cleaning duty for a month and I do not, I repeat do not, want that. So take a block away Sunder and let’s get going. Let’s get building. Let’s get winning!”

Ambulon looked at Hubcap. “See, I can be a team player. I am a team player.”

Hubcap’s eyes fixated on the peeling paint on Ambulon’s thumbs up. “…uh-huh.

“I was part of a combiner you know. I’m the very definition of a team player, so don’t accuse me of not being one again.”

“I won’t.”

“I know what it’s like to not be supported or appreciated, and I won’t do that to others. I won’t do it to you, my teammates, who I trust and respect and- SUNDER YOU SLAGGING MORON WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T DO THAT YOU’LL- OH SHIT YOU JUST DID IT, YOU JUST DID IT.”

Ambulon covered his eyes and Hubcap looked at the Jenga stack in horror.

One of Sunder’s needle tipped fingers was pushing a block at the very bottom.

“Why?” Hubcap whispered.

>it is burdened by the sins of those crushing it from above. I am here to relieve its suffering.

Ambulon dragged his fingers down his face. “We’ve lost. That’s it, we’ve lost. I’ve now got deep cleaning duty for a month thanks to you, you idiot.”

Sunder tilted his head and looked at Ambulon in a way that lowered the room’s temperature by ten degrees.

Several bots dotted around the room shivered and looked around in confusion.

Ambulon glared right back at Sunder. “Don’t think you can intimidate me you self-important smoke stack, because you can’t. I was a Decepticon medic don’t forget. A Decepticon. Medic. I’ve seen things that would make your eyes jump back into your sockets and fall out again. In fact they’d melt out of your face. They’d run down your front and stain your plating and seep into your vents and cause a build-up of optical rust that would require seven separate surgeries to fix. And I know all of this because it happened to a senior ‘Con who’s name I won’t mention, and because I assisted with surgeries two, three and four and took charge of number six.”

>the blocks are screaming.

Ambulon shook his head and Hubcap twisted his fingers together.

“I’m going to scream,” Ambulon said. “I’m going to scream out loud.”

“I’m going to scream silently,” Hubcap said. “Very silently and very loudly inside my head. If that makes sense. Ha. I don’t want to make too much of a scene.”

Ambulon gave him a curious sort of look. “Yeah you can do that, can’t you? Make things happen just by thinking about them?”

“Well it’s not- ha, it’s not that straightforward. I mean it’s easy for me to block or boost a signal because it’s part of who I am and comes as easily as breathing. Not that we breathe anyway, since we don’t have lungs and aren’t exposed to an oxygen rich atmosphere a lot of the time, and I just mean that as an Outlier I can do the things that…yeah.”

Ambulon tapped a world weary finger on top of the table. “As eloquent as ever, thank you.”

Hubcap’s blue eyes darkened. “What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem? You want to know what my problem is? My problem is you and him and being on the losing team for this stupid game I didn’t want to play in the first place.”

“That’s more than one problem.”

“Have you always been the most popular bot in the room, or is this a recent development?”

>quiet. Both of you. I can’t hear the blocks.

“Because they’re talking to you?” Ambulon asked flatly. “Because they’re whispering sweet words of longing into your ear and begging for your tender touch?”

>you can hear them too?

“For the love of-”

“You could, ah, move that block back?” Hubcap suggested. “And choose another one?”

>no.

“Right. No. Of course not. But.”

>there is no space for doubt or time to dwell on it. It is a deceitful trick, and we must ignore it. We are moving forward, and cannot look back.

Sunder pushed the block a tiny bit more. The entire structure wobbled.

“You can’t look at it anyway,” Ambulon said, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “since you don’t have any eyes.”

Sunder made a noise that could dissolve metal and evaporate acid.

“Hey,” Ambulon said, looking sharply at Hubcap, who involuntarily flinched. “You could use you mind moving powers! Push that block back into place where it belongs, and allow needle-fingers here to rethink one of his life choices and to do the right thing.

“Woah! That, urr, might be…” Hubcap glanced around nervously and lowered his voice to a hissing whisper. “Against the rules. It might be cheating. You want me to cheat?”

“Show me where it says so in the rules.”

“I, ha, judging by the tone of your voice already know you know it’s not in the rule book, but- but we shouldn’t do it. I won’t do it. It’s wrong.”

“It’s wrong of me to suffer deep cleaning duty because of the two of you.”

“How is this my fault?” As always when he got pissed off and geared himself up to deliver a speech, Hubcap’s voice thickened and steadied and all his self-doubt and stuttering vanished. “I didn’t build the structure and didn’t make the first move, Sunder did. I didn’t even get the chance to build the structure and, depending on your outlook, therefore be awarded or burdened with the first move. I’m not at fault here! I’m innocent! I’m just trying my best to do the right thing and get into the spirit of the evening and I keep getting dragged down by your miserable attitude and I won’t, I won’t, be sent to prison again for committing the crime of cheating! It’s fair enough I got a long sentence because I was a traitor and a killer and was one push of a button away from re-starting the war, but I won’t go back to that modified solitary containment cell with no windows and bad smells just because you don’t want to do some cleaning in what sounds like a filthy medical facility!”

Sunder trapped his tongue between his teeth in concentration and pushed the bottom block out further.

“Are you done?” Ambulon asked Hubcap flatly. “Have you got all that out of your system now? Or are you going to work yourself up even more and have a spark attack and short circuit all the electrics and turn off the ship’s anti-gravity pumps?”

“No,” Hubcap sulked.

Ambulon’s face lightened. “Because if you did, then we wouldn’t have to play anymore! Every structure would get knocked over in the dark or come apart and fly away!”

“You do…know that’s still cheating, don’t you? Or do I need to edit my speech and deliver it again?”

>the cold shadow is almost lifted and our friend is nearly free.

Sunder poked his chosen block again, and the entire tower shifted.

Ambulon sighed.

“And it doesn’t work like that,” Hubcap continued, not quite ready and not quite willing to wind himself back down. “I can’t manipulate an electromagnetic signal unless I’ve been in contact with it first. And I haven’t had cause to study and absorb the ship’s gravitational system, so. No.”

“What about the lights?”

“What about them?”

“Could you turn them off?”

“I…yes. That would be an easy block. But I’m not going to.”

“You could say it was an accident,” Ambulon pressed him. By now First Aid had seen the state of Ambulon’s table and was pointing and laughing at him. “You’ve blocked things by accident before, right?”

“I…yeah. Yeah I have.”

“Like what?”

>like what?

Hubcap blinked at the sudden interest from both of them.

“Uh, well, this one time I…accidentally blocked the signal to an energon refueling system and, um, racked up a six figure repair bill for it.”

“Why?”

>how?

“Ha, that- well I was, um, in my room one morning and…having a good time and…finished, and…”

“Please stop.”

>who were you with?

“Both of you can just stop.”

“Uh, just myself. Yeah. It was intense.”

Sunder leaned forward in interest.

>what exactly were you doing?

“I’m not going to say this again.” Ambulon said, raising his voice. “I’m not! And I don’t want to. So for one last time just Stop. Both of you. Let’s veer away from this unpleasant diversion and focus on this stupid game instead.”

“Oh,” Hubcap said, his eyes narrowing in his flushed face, “I see. You’re only interested in this stupid game when it suits you, and when you want me to shut up. That’s rude. And unprofessional. I have nothing to be ashamed about!”

“Except you clearly are.”

“Yes, well, that’s my choice. Sort of. The point is that you shouldn’t make someone uncomfortable for something that happens naturally to their body. I thought you were a medic? And that you’ve seen things no mortal bot should ever have to see?”

“Seeing is far better than imagining, believe me,” Ambulon said. “And just because I can cope with something doesn’t mean I want to expose myself to it.”

>talking of exposing…

The tower trembled and tilted as Sunder continued to push the center bottom block out.

>look. It’s nearly free.

“And we’ve nearly lost.”

“Yeah,” Hubcap agreed miserably.

Ambulon and Hubcap watched in shared fatalism as Sunder pushed the block further and further out, and the tower tilted and trembled more and more and more. But didn’t fall. It didn’t collapse. The block was sliding out and against all odds the structure was holding.

They both lifted themselves up from their seats and braced themselves on the table with flat splayed hands, and watched the miracle unfold in front of them with wide eyes and open mouths.

They were going to win.

Despite everything, they were going to win. Sunder was going to do the impossible and build the magnificent and not lose and they’d all be hailed as heroes and-

SMASH!

The tower collapsed instantly.

Sunder plucked out his chosen block from the pile of rubble.

>you’re free now.

Ambulon and Hubcap slumped back into their seats.

“That was terrible,” Ambulon muttered.

“It was a very poor choice,” Hubcap agreed.

First Aid made a loud noise, and once he got Ambulon’s attention, he made mopping and sweeping and cleaning and vomiting gestures. Pharma laughed out loud and Ratchet rolled his eyes.

Ambulon glanced down at the table.

“I, err,” Hubcap began. “Sorry you have to do that. Go back to them. I know what it’s like to do something you don’t want to do in front of people you don’t want to be watching.”

“Whatever. It’s fine.”

“I’ll help you.”

Ambulon looked up and narrowed his golden eyes, which were now burning brighter. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve already lost one bet, and I don’t want to be in debt to another person.”

“It’s unconditional. I just…want to. For a teammate. For you.”

A flurry of emotions blew across Ambulon’s face. “OK.” He looked down and away and back up. “Thank you.”

Hubcap nodded. “And if…something gets blocked, like the codes to Pharma’s favourite food and drink orders out of every single dispenser machine there is, then, well, accidents do happen.”

Ambulon smiled, and the flurry settled warmly. “Many accidents happen on this ship. It’s a chaotic place at times.”

Hubcap nodded again. “So do we…start work now?”

“Hell no.” Ambulon stood up and pushed his chair back. “We drink now. We’re the first team out of this contest, which means we get the pick of seats and don’t have to wait to be served. Let’s get that table over there and start a tab.”

Hubcap stood up as well, and neatly pushed his chair back under the table.

Sunder looked up at them, and a shadow crawled across his sunken face.

>you are both going. You are both leaving me in the debris of my unexpected failure.

Ambulon tutted. “Stop sulking. We’re going to the table and you’re going to the bar to start the tab. You’re buying all of our drinks tonight.”

Sunder stood up and smiled a smile that could carve through planets.

>what do you enjoy consuming, my medic friend?

“The tears of my enemies.”

>me too.

“I thought you were more into memories and the reeking remnants of brain modules?”

>I enjoy variety every now and again.

“Fair play to you. Come on team, let’s retire and drink and pass amusing judgement on others who think they know better.”

>agreed.

“Hell yes. I mean heck yes. I mean-”

“And you’re buying the drinks the next time we play a group game and lose within seconds.”

“Agreed,” Hubcap said immediately. “But…”

“But that implies we’re going to lose again?” Ambulon supplied.

“But that…implies you want us both as your teammates again.”

Sunder took Ambulon’s hand, opened it, put the chosen block in his palm, and carefully wrapped his fingers around it to form a fist.

>a momentum of our first time together.

Ambulon glanced down at his fist. The small wooden block felt warm within in. “Thanks. I think.”

>you are welcome.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess I am.”

#ambulon #sunder #hubcap #transformers #jenga #my writing #this was written pretty much in one go and isn't serious #it's fun to write dumb comedy and let loose with dialogue #comedy #sfw #well there's a couple of swear words so not 100% sfw I guess #I love all of them #and I love that jenga post #I want to write all the other teams playing #or the sunder hubcap ambulon trio playing other games #it's a regular thing onboard the ship

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