#or am i supposed to be the bigger person after they mocked me for being in mourning and constantly posted about me for over a week? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

khae-writes · 2 years

Text

troublemaker [ scaramouche/reader ]

tags: written on my ao3, written before canon/release, slightly very very slightly intimate/nsfw, scaramouche/female reader, fluff?, foul language (cursing)

header

Your fingers drummed across the table, your other hand patting your left cheek as you allowed your heads weight to be carried by your hand. The clock ticked in sync with your breathing, eyes following the figure of the short and annoyed young man pacing across the room with amusement flickering in them.

“You’re really anxious about this, aren’t you?” You smiled, chuckling.

Scaramouche whips his head, turning to look at you with a scoff following afterward. “Oh no, it seems that apologies have to made to the person who made the biggest mistake yet in all missions to have ever been given. Thanks for being a fuck-up, by the way, I really appreciate it.” His sarcasm nearly drove you to laughter, but you kept it in, knowing bursting out would only fuel his irritation more.

“Jeez, lighten up a little bit.” Your carefree manner was irking the Harbinger, his left eye twitching a bit at your lack of tact and wariness.

This was the Tsaritsa he was about to see right now! Because of you!

“’Lighten up’?” He mocks you, glaring at you as stepped over to your circle, his two hands slamming down on the counter of the desk, aura completely authoritative and superior amongst yours. “As special whatever we have may be, I might need to remind you again that I am in control of this relationship. That I have bigger things to take care of. That I’m really mad at you right now and I have no time for—”

You snorted at his attempt to intimidate you, your hands immediately wrapping him by the neck as you pulled him close, causing him to lose his grip on the slick table. Nearly falling chin-first onto the desk, you saved him from pain by putting his head to your chest, grinning. Scaramouche turns red at your actions, trying his best to wriggle out of your hug (as much as he’d love to stay there though, he’s supposed to be mad at you) but quite unsuccessfully, just went limp in your hold.

The male stays still in your embrace, his nose inhaling your scent, his eyes fluttering to a close as he hoped to remember this fragrance to the grave before letting out an indignant scoffs in his head. Perhaps he could humor you a little bit and hug you back — Scaramouche thinks you wouldn’t even have the audacity to mimic him now, anyway—

“Oh? I thought you were mad at me?” Your grin was Cheshire-like, eyes like crescent moons as if belittling him for his sudden gesture of affection.

Or maybe you did have the balls to do that right now.

And immediately, Scaramouche goes back to untangling himself from your hold, shoving you off him as he crossed his arms with a glare, although face still evidently red from embarrassment. “Alright, stop playing with me. We can do whatever you want later after we’re done with the job.”

You raised a brow. “I thought we were already finished?”

“No, unfortunately. I’m pretty sure we’d get extra work to compensate for what you did.” Scaramouche sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as his head goes back to the brief memory from an hour ago of your pathetic screw-up before giving you a slight glare. “Right, thanks for that, by the way.” He remarks, practically hearing the sardonic tone dripping from his lips.

You grinned at him, your brows lifting at his sarcasm as you piped up. “You sure are sweet today. This is the second time you’ve thanked me. Maybe I should fuck up more—”

“Please don’t.” He sighs.

“Whatever you say, boss.” You laugh, lighthearted as you relished in the heartwarming atmosphere around you and your superior.

It was a curious one, indeed, how you’d ended up being Scaramouche’s… whatever you call yourself.

Were you his underling? Definitely. Did you have something special with the Sixth Harbinger? Of course. Were you his lover? No, no you weren’t.

You two had something special, but it was not love.

Well, at least that’s what Scaramouche claims anyway. He was the only one in your relationship who thought that way. You one-sidedly believe that he was indeed your boyfriend, while you were his girl. Of course, Scaramouche mocked that belief and said it was ridiculous (it was a little funny how he continued to insult you when he, himself, had a red face that told you how embarrassed he was).

No matter what you did, you’d always catch him staring at you when he thinks you weren’t looking. And every time you would ‘forget’ lunch, Scaramouche would mutter insulting words under his breath but would offer you half of his lunch and if he’s feeling a little too good, he might even feed you himself. Then often times, he would tell others with a proud and confident stature; it never failed to make you giddy and happy — “I trust in my underling. She’s a rare gem.”

How sweet.

Well, regardless of how he saw you, you dearly were and truly just that woman by his side that doted on him one-sidedly.

You stared at him as he paced back and forth in front of you, his exhales trying to maintain balance to not lose focus and patience. You watched him with close eyes, (e/c) orbs trailing as his hands that were smaller compared to most men his age tightened incredulously into fists. You watched as his violet pair of jewels dripped with uncertainty and nervousness. His foot tapped repeatedly on the floor every time he’d stop prancing across the room.

It was strange — what was it about this short, young man that captivated you? He was your typical boss who may or may not have anger issues, sarcastic and just a tiny bit too lax for his own good after a job well done. Yet he’d snatched your fragile heart just like that. He was dangerous on so many levels.

Scaramouche peeked from under his large hat, noticing your fond stare on his figure that looked so awkward stepping forward and back in front of you. “What are you looking at?”

You stiffen, a flustered blush crawling through your cheeks as he loses focus just to talk to you. So he did care. He showed in the most minuscule gestures, but nonetheless, appreciated. You smiled at him gently before it morphed into a teasing grin. “You’re such a softie sometimes, Scaramouche.”

This irked him, of course. His pride mattered a lot to him. It was funny to you how much pride and energy he had stored within that petite body of his. It was also ridiculous how much you mocked him for his height when he was still taller than you.

“Sorry for giving a shit.” he grumbled instantly, crossing his arms as he looked away pettily. This earned a lighthearted chuckle from you, standing up from your seat and stepping towards him with a skip to your step. Scaramouche eyed you tentatively, giving you a small pout he didn’t know he made every time he was growing wary — one of his many habits that you’d adored as time passed by. “What are you doing?”

You stand in front of him, a smile cheekily curved up on your lips while your two hands were intertwined behind your back, your chest touching his which elicited a small quiet yelp from him at the contact.

You grinned at him. “After you’re done, wanna grab dinner with me?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, proudly pumping his chest towards you as well to assert dominance. Man, you always thought it was hot every time he did that — him showing superiority was honestly attractive.

Scaramouche raises his right hand up to his hat to keep it from accidentally covering his line of vision or falling, his face leaning closer towards you. “Dinner better be on you, (Y/n).” His face had this wretched smirk that sent butterflies to your stomach — god, he knew exactly what type of effect he had on you, just like what you did to him.

“You haven’t even paid me this week yet…” You try to avert your eyes from his, his stare that bore into yours now flustering you to no end.

“Yeah, but you offered.”

“Fair point. But it’s still unfair that I don’t get my paycheck—” You grumbled before pulling away — well, at least tried to, you couldn’t even fathom what happened next because the next thing you knew was your left wrist being held firmly, his breath unimaginably close to yours to the point you could feel the mint fan at your lips.

“Consider this your punishment, love.” Scaramouche whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against your ear that sent tingles down your spine just how close he was before leaning slightly back — his lips had slightly, justslightly touched yours and fuck that nearly sent you to a high.

Was he actually taking your relationship to the next level? You didn’t think he’d have the nerve! And what’s up with ‘love’?! He’d never called you that before!

You immediately push him away, blushing furiously ignoring the victorious look he threw at you. What a jerk. “Jeez, do you live off of me all embarrassed or something?” You huffed, eyes still avoiding him like the plague.

“Maybe,” he smiles slightly before turning his attention to the door that had been opened by a Fatui agent who nodded acknowledgingly towards the Sixth Harbinger. Scaramouche sighs, feeling his heart beat fast once more at the current situation he was forced to be in. He looked at you whose expression now appeared guilty before scoffing. “Man up a little, (Y/n). I chose you as one of my more tolerable officers because I trust in you. You messed up, and that’s fine.”

No, for real — who was this guy?? You gaped at him.

Scaramouche eyed your shocked look before turning red slightly at the tips of his ears, his back facing you suddenly when he spun for you to avoid seeing his cerise face. “You’re paying for dinner though. You owe me for giving me so much work, you little troublemaker.” He scoffed.

Your stare lingered on his back a bit more before nodding, giggling. A bounce in your step as your hands went around his body to give him a warm hug. Scaramouche froze in your hold but didn’t dare move, letting you shower him with affection while also glaring at the Fatui agent who awkwardly looked at every corner in the room to give you two some privacy. And as quick as you jumped on him, your lips caught his cheek — it was a brief, sweet peck but the feeling never fled and it sent the Harbinger flushed.

Scaramouche was not known for being a coward too, so it didn’t come off as a surprise to anyone when he twirled around just to face you, his right hand tipping his massive hat beside your faces to cover the sight from the Fatui agent who stood idly by the entrance to the Tsaritsa’s office.

And in a swift motion, his lips caught yours as revenge.

His lips moved against yours in sync, his actions sending fluttering explosions that sent you into an overdrive. His left hand had made its way to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him, his head tilting to deepen the kiss he shared with you. Sparks went wild in your head and stomach, your toes curling as the kiss got warmer and warmer, his upper teeth nipping lightly at your bottom lip. A few seconds passed and he’d finally pulled away, a trail of saliva connecting his lip to yours.

As soon as the high had faded, your eyes widened and a mad blush overtook your features, your hand immediately going over to cover your mouth. Scaramouche put back his hat on, purple swirls looking at you with a smirk plastered.

‘We’ll continue later,’ He mouthed that sent your body aflame before he disappeared behind the closed door to meet the Tsaritsa.

Who really was the troublemaker between the two of you?

176 notes · View notes

mqsi · 1 year

Text

This wasn’t in your sketches

part 2

——————————————————————————

Carla made an excuse for you and managed to book an extra meeting with Gavi’s manager.

“Girl, you have to be careful!” she said while you were on your way to the studio. 2 days passed since the little incident with Gavi and you were hoping he wasn’t gonna do it again.

Gavi’s manager greeted you at the door and Carla once again pulled him away, leaving you alone with the boy. You made your way into the room and noticed 3 cups of coffee on one of the desks. You looked around the room, before Gavi appeared in your sight.

“I didn’t know how you drink it, so I got 3 options” he said, walking up to you with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing grey sweats and you would be lying if you said you weren’t looking at his slight dick print. Your eyes trailed back to his, a slight smile plastered on his face, waiting for your response. You took one of the cups

“Usually with a bit of milk,thank you”

Gavi clicked his tongue “I was guessing black”

You made your way to your camputer, sitting down and placing the pile of papers next to you.

“Why?”

“It matches your personality” he replied, looking around the room.

“You don’t even know me” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I saw enough last time” he said, sitting down across from you and crossing his arms against his chest. “So, am I forgiven?”

You looked at him, curving your lips into a smile.

“I guess you are”

“Good, cause I didn’t have a backup plan” Gavi admitted, locking eyes with you. You quickly looked down. You didn’t understand why was talking to him making you blush now, last time you were face to face and everything was good? But maybe that was just anger working in your favor. After all you couldn’t deny that Gavi was handsome. You took a deeper breath before turning to him once again.

“I have a few sketches to show you today, so we can actually start working” you said and Gavi nodded for you to continue “I noticed you like your shirts 6 times bigger than they need to be so I tried to go baggy with everything”.

Gavi rolled his eyes at 6 times bigger part

“They’re not that big” he replied.

“Your sleeves go to your elbows, I would say that is pretty big or you’re just small in proportions” you said, mocking him a bit.

He furrowed his brows once again and started bouncing his leg inpatiently.

“So, am I gonna see them sketches or what?” You picked up the papers and waved them in the air as a sign for him to come to you. He walked over and you spread the papers out on the desk. Gavi’s eyes roamed over the sketches as you started explaining them. Somewhere along the way he got lost in your words and turned his attention to your face. He was scanning your features, looking at your lips as they were so invested in the explaination and Gavi couldn’t quite understand why. Up until now, companies just threw stuff at him that he was supposed to put on and pose for a photoshoot, why were you doing this?

“So, what do you think? My favourite is probably the windbreaker jacket, I already ordered one in black,I’ve noted you mostly wear monochrome”

You looked at him and he quickly snapped his eyes to where your finger was pointing, to avoid being caught staring at you. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” You asked sharply. After everything you had just explained and asked, the only response he had was why were you doing this? You felt anger bubble up inside once again.

“I mean, I never get to choose, I just wear what I’m given at photoshoots”

You relaxed your features, just now realising what he meant. He was only 18 and had questions like this.

“Yes, that’s why you look so akward in most. If I give you an opportunity to change something yourself, you’ll look more comfortable wearing it, which means the photos will be more natural”

Change something himself? Most of his life, there were boundaries for what he can and can’t do. What he can eat,wear,how is he supposed act,smile in pictures. And you, as another job he was addressed to, are giving him an option to choose himself. Gavi smiled to himself, feeling a bit more appriciated as a human being. Maybe you were right about the price tag part last time. You snapped him back to reality with a little poke on his arm.

“I have the designs done in 3D on my computer, If you want to check that out as well” you said, opening the program. As you displayed in on the screen, you layed back in your chair but your head met the soft material of Gavi’s hoodie. His scent enhanced your senses and suddenly,your heart beat accelerated. Pablo had one arm leaning against your desk, caging your body between it and him. His chin was hovering over your head,almost leaning againt it. He was about to reach for the computer mouse, but you were faster to grab it, brushing his fingers in the process. Suddenly, this simple situation felt far more intimate than it should’ve, the closeness of his body making everything harder for you.

“Anyways” you said, pushing your chair behind a bit,making Gavi stumble back and give you space you desperately needed. He felt the mood shift as well but didn’t understand why. Was he automatically pulled to you just because you’ve given him some freedom? No, it’s not that, he just got interested in the sketches and leaned in to see them better, that’s all. Gavi realised he was probably supposed to break the akward silence that fell on you since you kept silent after that “anyways”.

“So, I like all your pieces, but maybe you can make the sweatpants as cargos? Just add the pockets on the side?” he asked, suddenly wary of you.

“As cargos, yes of couse, okay” you replied nervously. In that moment, Gavi’s manager stumbled in the room

“Pablo, we are already past our time limit! We have to go now, I’ll make a schedule for future meetings” he said sternly, expecting Gavi to already be at the door. He looked at you

“Um, I guess I’ll see you in a few days? Order everything in the color you like” Gavi said, already passing half the room.

“But wait, I wanted to discuss color combinations with you” you said, standing up from your spot.

“It doesn’t matter” he waved to you and was already out of the door. You were left there, confused and a bit angry. You just started communicating better and he just rans away? This was everything for you, but a hassle to him. You looked back at the sketches and sighed. I guess this will take more effort than I anticipated, you thought to yourself before you saw the coffee cup in the corner of your eye. You looked at it, replaying his apology in your head,smiling.

——————————————————————————

a/n: give me some feedback please, opinions,predictions, I would love to read them! :)

#footballer imagine #gavi blurb #gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavira #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x you #gavi imagine #gavi x yn #gavi fanfic #gavi barcelona #gavi barca #pedri gonzalez #pedri barça #x reader #gavi one shot

134 notes · View notes

tiny-tigers · 6 months

Note

✨ Oh god that does make it more awkward yeh 😂🙈

I feel like the Ford's are kind of a boy family no? 😆 But I just think he would make the BEST girl dad 🥹🩷

I won't lie I understand the teeth thing as I remember how insecure I was before I got mine done! But yeh if it's the girl I think you're on about - not his cousin btw (just family friends) - yeh she's defo had a boob job. It's a weird one for me because I understand using make-up/clothes/hair styles to feel better about your self but personally, I could never go as far as using needles/surgery/fillers - it's just too extreme for me. [Having foreign objects put in your body & being put under anaesthesia for anything other than life saving surgery just makes me feel ill] but each to their own! 😅

I think that's a great observation of giraffe boy! What I also like is that he clearly wants to be the best, but he does so through purely focusing on himself? Twitter loves to say how much better Keenan is than Fred - does Fred hate on Hugo? no. Keenan himself said how lovely Fred was to him after the whole red card debacle.

I love people who are driven and ambitious but don't trip other people up to get to the top. He's willing to put in all that extra work and study to get to the top rather than cutting corners and cheating others to get there. I genuinely can't imagine just how immensely proud of him his parents must be. What a guy. All whilst getting a bloody degree in economics on the side. Jesus.

I also get what you mean about Jacky though 🥺 I'm not even a scrum half, let alone a rugby player, and I would love to study Antoine Dupont - just because of how truly brilliant he is. What a time to be alive to watch the likes of him play. So whether it's 'laziness' or just plain insecurity that's stopping Jack from doing that I don't know. But he's missing a trick for sure. Sad.

Awww bless you!! The most important thing is your health though - there will always be other games & other trips but your wellbeing is the most important thing 💖xxxx

Please tell me about one moment that haven't been awkward around that man for me...

I have been his faithful dobby for less than a decade and I Feel exhausted... I know all I can know about him and Yet I am still surprised.

I think fordy gonna have a girlie princess but there is potential for twins in the family so... hopeful ! Addie account has been hacked btw...

Idk why I see her as cousin... yeah I know it is difficult for teeth as it is easily mocked and all but I like some flaws... (say the woman who horribly threw words at J appearance lately ) ... I am about To watch documentary about fillers actually...

As someone who recently had anesthesia and hospital stay I think you must hate yourself and your image a lot to take this path.

U know I cannot unsee the fact his best friend has a giant giraffe in his salon...

Yeah I see what you implies about only pointing on his own flaws and focusing on his strenght. I think he isn't a fool, he knows he is good. I think Jack is terrified to be average and be replaced by someone better like his father was and has faced A LOT More difficulties than Fred could ever think of or will ever face. The size he had to put on the barriers he had to climb because he wasn't supposed to do career he didn't played for premiership title he didnt played for rwc.... The injury well let's face it maybe he will never be the same player he was and Will always have a mental barrier to push into extreme now that he has been injured in such a stupid way.

All in all I think he never watched bigger competition than england pool not because he is a fool but because he thinks it is not even worth his time as he will never reach them? I could be wrong. I also think it is lucid because he will never....It is already too late. I know I might sound hard , he has qualities but he will never be more than average good I can assure you that now. He should have already learn quicker and he didn't step up when everyone was expecting him to so I think it isn't gonna happen. Unfortunately.

I have hope on captaincy later on tho because he has leadership.

I think I am very impatient to see the climb of Freddie because for now they still move him too much from fullback ... Now that he is free of his degree I want to see his new challenges and I think.... unfortunately he will need to move on from Leicester at one point because it is too cosy ? Idk if you see what I mean... I think he needs risk and challenges to be at his best.

For u :

0 notes

retrofashionspazwhore · 6 months

Text

FACELESS LOVE EPS ⓵&⓶

📸: Lakorns

I really enjoyed the first two eps of Faceless Love. ( Granted I maybe slightly biased since I was in love with the Korean Vers.) All I will say though come on GMM don't let me down.

Like, I even got over the actor change very quickly. It was not due to any hate. I actually have enjoyed quite a few Luke drama's honestly pretty much most he has been in. I was just slightly attached to the other actor that was shown in the mock trailer and excited to see him in the role. But, anyways I'm enjoying Luke thus far (I don't know if I'm the only person that feels this way) but Luke really fits the business man vibe and I also feel like his is starting to come into and grown as an actor.

Also on another note Dew is so cute. I'm glad to see him in a lead role. cause I instantly loved him in F4 and wished he had a bigger role in the series. He just has that boy next door charm about him. So, far I'm loving it.

Okay now on to my questions segment and random live reacting:

⓵

what in the non-professionalism how y'all going to move up the interview...

Girl, was struggling...

I wonder what they change

He was really a douchebag out the gate like okay...

But, love that she was not letting him just treat he anyways just because he is rich or a boss of whatever. he did not give her respect and judged her and she stood her ground and told him off.

What is the connection???

I should note its been a long time since I've watched the Korean Vers. (might have to rewatch after this end so i can do a deep dive comparison)

oh, we getting a makeover right in ep one.

Its funny how Chanon feels like the peace-keeper/baby sitter to make sure that Vee & Mirin don't harm each other. Boy had literally had to break up two fight already...

G-ma really dropped "the soup"... they ain't even try to put anything in the pot...

Um, Vee I feel like that could be reported as sexual harassment.

Personal space

Please 6 feet.

Not you pulling her back to continue smelling her...

Um, sir. Please Stop!

Like, okay. Thanks...

Love it! Girl let him know.

Set his expectations!

Chanon seems like he's already in love.. just saying. or at least has slight feelings or interest

I love his secetary. Please let her stay awesome and nice throughout the series

Girl is giving him top tier home made hot chocolate (now I want some) woah just like his mama used to make.

the way to a mans heart is through his stomach (cringe. but true)

You end it with her giving him the hot chocolate... really.

Thank goodness I still got ep 2 to watch.

⓶

Okay but who is this boy that think is supposed to be Chanon um... really GMM

Boy really couldn't just have said thank you and complemented her for the hot chocolate . He really just be starting fights... remember last ep when you was upset about being seen as a bad guy. you are not helping that case.

Like okay... why is this her problem.

(Theory Time) So, is her mother actually his mothers bestfriend. Has she been basically prepping her daughter to marry her best friends son.

Like I'm starting to think he has his doubts that she is actually who she's named after... is that why she is fighting her so much....

Boy really doesn't trust anyone. I relate to that

Like why would it be weird for her to be called mirin that could very well just be her nickname

not these me just changing right in front of the new hire on her first day.

I will probably say this throughout every episode. I love that she takes up for herself.

can he see her?? oh NOPE.

I literally would i been like who said that I'm sorry can you raise your hand...

he really under-minded her praise .. like why... is it like no one can praise you but me. or are they that close. they bicker like siblings...

bye girl... like you are not worth this job I literally just started today...

Is mama trying to hook Tanya up with her son or am i readying the vibe/moment wrong. Are you going to be trying to give your son everything Vee has.

Random Thought can he see himself...like in mirrors or pictures..

girl... stop "waves arms aggressively im front of her stop speaking.

girl, you was just supposed to say thank you....

i mean not to take side you could have told her.. about the earrings ahead of time... especially since you knew she had no fashion background/experience

yeah boy already got feelings he literally took up for her!! love it.

I'm sorry but Luke running out screaming was a little bit funny.

can you see her??? um, no idea

oh, love that were getting some of the little lies out of the way early versus them being major things later for no reason.

the kiddos are so cute. Of course she is going to be the "thin" that he can't give in the future.

#faceless love #drm #rmbl

1 note · View note

messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Nothing Left | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Everything crashes within seconds and Sirius doesn’t know where to go.

Everything went downhill so fucking fast. How was that even possible? Everything was perfectly fine a year ago, but it seems that within that year, everything had collapsed onto the helpless boy. It was like being beneath a crumbling concrete tower that fell with no warning. Like being slapped in the face unexpectedly. Like getting doused in freezing water on a Sunday morning.

In retrospect, it sucked.

Sirius Black would know first hand. His entire life had been a screw-up from the beginning. It started with his parents, who - at the start - loved him. But when he turned out to be the child they never wanted all that love had vanished. They tortured him, broke him piece by piece, they built up trauma that took years for him to express to his friends. It wasn’t until third year when they heard him crying alone in his four-poster bed and asked what was wrong. He could remember the comforting embrace James Potter had given him.

Nevertheless, it never ended there. The summer going into his sixth year, Sirius decided it was enough after too many Cruciatus Curses and body binding curses; enough was enough. His hands were trembling after enduring just ten minutes of the torture curse, and it was a struggle, but he packed everything he could. His heart broke at inevitably leaving his little brother behind. He could only hope that Regulus would understand.

It took a Knight Bus trip to the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow. The sky could’ve resembled how Sirius felt. Back at Grimmauld Place Twelve, the sky was always cloudy and rainy. Godric’s Hollow allowed the sun to shine past the fluffy clouds, but tonight was different. The sky was dark and thick, black clouds covered the stars. Rain poured from them, and it pittered on the stone roads. Sirius was instantly drenched when he stepped off the Knight Bus.

Hesitantly he made his way to the door, where he knocked softly. The house was two stories and was a relatively big family home - not bigger than Grimmauld Place - but an average family home. The house was a mixture of grey, dark purples, and brown. It reminded Sirius of Remus’ patched jumpers. Sirius could hear movement from behind the plum door, and it opened to reveal a familiar face. James Potter with his messy hair, hazel eyes, and long limbs. James was muscular, but he was also tall, not Remus tall but taller than Sirius.

James didn’t speak and ushered him inside. The following morning at breakfast, Euphemia - Mrs. Potter - had given Sirius the excellent news of his new forever home. The Potters would never forget the way Sirius lit up and how a smile had taken over his face. Sirius didn’t remember being this happy except for when Regulus was born.

But his forever home was not forever.

In seventh year, James’ parents had died, and nobody had comforted Sirius except one person who attempted. James had Lily, and that was enough for him. Perhaps it was selfish to think that James should be comforting him. It was definitely selfish. Sirius was doing really good at hiding how he felt until he crumbled behind a tapestry near the dungeons.

Sirius didn’t know if it was good or bad luck that Regulus - his prefect Slytherin brother - had found him behind that tapestry. Regulus had pulled back the fabric slowly with his wand lit. His face had softened at his older brother sobbing with his knees to his chest. Regulus allowed his wand light to extinguish before sitting in front of him in the same position, allowing their socks to touch at the tips.

They sat there for a couple of minutes before Regulus moved closer, albeit hesitantly to sit beside Sirius. Regulus had his back against the concrete, and Sirius curled up onto him while the younger Black brother rubbed his older brother's back. Sirius cried harder and harder. It took an hour before he subdued to sniffles and whimpers, but Regulus took it as his time to speak.

“I know they meant a lot to you,” Regulus stated, still rubbing his older brothers back, “And I don’t blame you for grieving them.”

Sirius sniffled, “I ought to be grateful for them, really.” Regulus released a sound that sounded like a chuckle, but it was so foreign to Sirius he couldn’t tell, “They kept you safe. Kept you away from mother and father. They gave you a home where you could finally be you.”

“And no matter how mad I want to be at them for taking you away from me,” Regulus admitted, “I just can’t be because they gave you everything you wanted, and I’ve never seen you happier in my life.”

Regulus didn’t stop talking, “You know… I- I found my own James Potter.”

Sirius looked up at Regulus with flushed cheeks, but his facial expression was baffled, and Regulus presented him with a small smile, “Okay, maybe she isn’t my ‘James Potter’ per se because I don’t see her as a sister but rather she’s my girlfriend.”

“What’s- What’s her name?” Sirius croaked; his throat was so raw from crying.

“Y/n L/n.”

“A- A Gryffindor?”

Regulus made that sound again, “Yeah. A stupidly brave one too. Even worse.”

Sirius smiled, “I know her.”

“Don’t tell me she was one of your conquests.” Regulus grimaced, and Sirius chuckled, snuggling back into Regulus’ chest, “No, she wasn’t. It turns out she has the hots for the other Black brother.”

Regulus smiled, and they allowed the silence of the castle to consume them. It was dark in the corridor on the other side of the tapestry, and Regulus could see the faint moonlight peaking out. He could also imagine the stars glittering beautifully in the midnight sky. He could see the star Sirius shining brighter than ever, and he just wanted his brother to feel the same.

“I plan to marry her.” Regulus said before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth.

“What happens then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mother and father will never approve.”

Regulus scoffed, “I’m done with their bullshit and have been for quite a while.”

Sirius met his brother's eyes again, “I left right after you. It turns out there is no more heir to the Black family name.”

The older Black brother smiled brightly and tightened his grip on his younger brother. Regulus couldn’t remember feeling this warm since they were little boys running around the backyard. Sirius was practically on top of him, and that was okay. For now, everything seemed okay again. Maybe Euphemia and Fleamont were gone, but even in their deaths, they managed to benefit Sirius’ life.

Now it all seemed fruitless.

Only a couple of months later, Sirius and Regulus had gotten into a huge kerfuffle. It ended with screaming, raw throats, tears, and flushed cheeks. Sirius could remember how Regulus playfully mocked his and Remus’ relationship. He didn’t know exactly what happened, just that he was pouncing for his little brother, and Remus was holding him back. Sirius had yelled some very awful things that he couldn’t take back.

She hadn’t done anything. She didn’t even know that an argument had happened. Y/n had been reading in the common room when the book was flung out of her hand, and she was pushed against the stone wall of the Gryffindor Tower. Y/n met eyes with stormy grey ones, not unlike her lovers, but these weren’t her lovers. These were his elder brother's eyes, and he had lifted her off the floor against the wall until James had pulled Sirius off her.

Y/n hit the floor with a thud and repeatedly coughed, hands on her throat. James had stormed into the boy's dormitory with Sirius with him. She didn’t even understand what was happening not until she met up with Regulus in the prefect dorm, and he saw the marks on her neck. Sirius had taken it too far, and Regulus was furious. They were no longer on speaking terms.

Now Sirius had someone entirely different to grieve.

Sirius had felt like his heart hit the floor when he was forced to move out of James’ house with Lily due to Harry being born. Remus had moved away to take care of his sick mother and asked for privacy. The funds that had previously been in Sirius’ account had been squandered, and now he was paying the price.

He had absolutely nowhere to go. Truthfully, there was one place he could go, but he didn’t think he’d ever be accepted there. He had said unforgivable things, but James had given him enough confidence that it would be okay. Reluctantly, Sirius Black took the Knight Bus to the suburbs in London. The community felt so modern and new. It was different then Godric’s Hollow which had been around for so many years that it began to weather and erode.

The deja vu was hitting him like a brick. Their house was a mixture of grey, black, white, and maybe blue - Sirius couldn’t tell in the darkness if it was white or pale blue. Perhaps he’d find out tomorrow if he was even welcomed inside. Sighing and shivering, Sirius knocked on the door. He could hear little squeals of delight that sounded much like a child. He also heard talking, but he froze when the door opened.

Regulus Black, at the age of twenty-two, looked good. His hair was to his jaw, and it was wavy at the ends, whereas Sirius’ was much more straight. His eyes had turned silver over the years. His cheeks looked much fuller, and he looked a lot better. Regulus was no longer looked underweight, but he was still slim and skinny. Black family genes, Sirius supposed. Sirius couldn’t meet his brother's eyes.

“What do you want, Sirius.”

His name falling from Regulus’ mouth instead of a nickname hurt more than he expected, “I had nowhere else to go…”

Regulus scoffed, “James finally kick you out, eh?”

“Yeah, he did.” Sirius sounded so distant, “Perhaps it was about time, and here I am, at your doorstep.”

“Come on, Sirius.” Regulus motioned for him to come in, and Sirius did.

The house was much cozier inside. The floors were dark wood, almost black. The living room - on Sirius’ left - was a darker turquoise color with grey furniture. The dining room - on Sirius’ right - was a light grey. The furniture was a marble table, white wood chairs with cushions, and a beautiful light fixture. Regulus led him to the kitchen, which was straight ahead in the hallway.

It was a beautiful mint green color with black and white furniture. The appliances were primarily black and the furniture primarily white, but regardless, it was beautiful. They had another table in the kitchen that was a grey wood instead of the shiny marble in the dining room but nevertheless screamed elegance. Sirius sat at one of the barstools at the L of the counter. Regulus slid him a cup of tea.

“Your house is beautiful.” Sirius complimented, and Regulus placed the cup back into the saucer, “Thank you. My wife picked everything out for the most part. I either built it or painted it.” Regulus smiled.

“Your wife?”

Regulus hummed, “Y/n Black. Ring any bells?”

Sirius swallowed, “Yeah.”

They both took a sip of tea, “I have two kids too. Both boys.”

“Two?!“ Sirius nearly spat out the liquid he had just taken a sip of.

“Twins. Fraternal, thankfully.”

He placed the cup down, “What’re their names?“

“Perseus Regulus Black and Leo Alphard Black.”

“Perseus and Leo, huh?“

Regulus blushed, “It wasn’t my idea. It was Y/n’s.”

“I like them,” Regulus looked up at him, “The names. I’m sure they fit them too.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t long until footsteps began to echo coming down the steps. Y/n had grown up too. Her face was sharper and her curves more defined. If Sirius was honest, she didn’t look like she had kids at all. To be fair, he wasn’t really staring at Y/n but more so his brother. Regulus had a starstruck expression as his wife walked towards him. He had a dopey smile on his face and stars in his eyes. Regulus really loved her, and Sirius could tell, hell, anyone could.

Y/n stopped in her tracks at seeing Sirius, “What’s he doing here?”

Regulus placed an arm around her waist, “He came looking for a place to stay. While I was waiting for you, I decided to catch up with him for a little.”

Sirius looked guilty, “Ultimately, I’m leaving this decision up to you.”

Y/n sighed and looked at both brothers. She thought of what he did back at Hogwarts. She thought of how Regulus had cried and ached for his brother, wishing for their relationship to be back the way it was. She thought of her two children who always asked about their Uncle Sirius, who was never around.

“Sirius,” Y/n began, and Sirius held his breath, “Where will you go if I were to say no?”

Sirius looked at his lap, “The streets.”

He couldn’t hear the footsteps that approached him until soft hands lifted his head where he met soft e/c eyes, “I’m willing to look past everything that happened at Hogwarts for the sake of my children. They deserve their uncle. But I need you to show me that I can trust you and that you won’t cause trouble.”

“I’ll do anything.” Sirius complied, and Regulus smirked, “Don’t say that. She’ll have you remodel something.”

“You’re an asshole.” Y/n whirled, and Regulus continued to smirk, “I told you to use magic, and you said we should do it the Muggle way.”

He shrugged, “We got good memories out of doing it the Muggle way.”

“If getting paint all over me counts as good memories, then sure.”

“It does.” Regulus smiled, “Your face was priceless.”

“Dickhead.” She muttered.

Sirius grinned, “Well, Sirius. If Y/n lets you stay, then you’re welcome here. What I did back at Hogwarts was uncalled for, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mocked you and Remus.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” Regulus countered solemnly, “Had I not done that; then we could’ve had a better relationship. For that, I’m sorry.”

Sirius stood up and hugged Regulus tight, “New beginnings?”

“New beginnings.” Regulus smiled.

Regulus led Sirius up the wooden stairs up to the second story. It seemed to have had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, one in the master bedroom, one in the hallway, not including the one downstairs. On the end of the left side was a door leading to the master bedroom. On the right end was a cabinet and two doors across from one another. Then in the middle of the back was a door leading to another bedroom which Regulus had opened.

The bedroom was spotless and beautiful. It was painted a grey with purple undertone with a queen-sized bed. Most of the furniture was white, and the bedding was black. Sirius had brought his trunk to its normal size and placed it at the end of the bed. Regulus smiled as Sirius looked around.

“This is yours for as long as you want it.” Regulus stated softly snd Sirius had tears in his eyes, “Thank you.”

Sirius hugged his brother again, “I really mean it, thank you.”

“I love you, Sirius.” Regulus confessed, “You’ll always be my brother. The one who held me during thunderstorms. The one who sewed up my teddy bear when it had gotten ripped. The one who took the blame so I wouldn’t get punished.”

Sirius was gripping the back of his shirt tightly, “That stuff doesn’t just go away.”

They parted, and Regulus smiled, “Get some sleep. I’m sure you’d like to see the boys tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like to meet my nephews.” Sirius admitted smiling brightly.

“Get some sleep, Siri.”

“You too, Reggie.”

2K notes · View notes

citrusdarling7 · 3 years

Text

jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #smut #tom riddle oneshot #oneshot #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #fanfic

718 notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter 6: Let’s Play a Game (Overprotection)

AO3

Marinette ended up not staying for dinner. She talked to Bruce for a little bit, but he had to leave for some WE emergency and Marinette wasn’t really up to bonding with the boys- her brothers- yet. But that was fine. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get to know the man and wouldn’t be able to after this trip because she had to stay in Paris because of Hawkmoth. No, she wasn’t upset. Not at all. It didn’t hurt her feelings. Nope.

---

Walking into Madame Soleil's Wax Museum with Adrien by her side, Marinette is hit with a major wave of deja vu. And not a good deja vu. No, the memories of the last time she was in a wax museum with Adrien were awful, humiliating and- feeling a hand wrap around hers pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. Glancing down, Marinette tries (and fails) to hide her grin. Adrien is holding her hand. Adrien is holding her hand!

“Hey Marinette!” A familiar voice calls, a hand squeezing her shoulder, making Marinette squeal and whirl around.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” She asks, frowning at the boy- her brother- as he stands there with a huge smile.

“Well I heard that a new wax figure is being revealed today, and I thought I might come and see it.” He says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Really? Who?” Adrien asks. Dick’s smile twitches slightly as he glances at Marinette, making her frown. Was he seriously about to play the overprotective big brother card? Really?

“Jagged Stone.” Dick finally says, glancing at their entwined hands. Marinette tries hard not to roll her eyes. Come on, her crush is finally holding her hand and her brother (who she’s known for a day!) is seriously trying to ruin that for her?

“Oh cool! Do you think he’ll come to Gotham to see it, Mari?” Adrien asks.

“I think he’s definitely scheduled to make an appearance in Gotham in the next couple days. He’s picking up his new suit in person.” She whispers, grinning at the idea of seeing her “Uncle” in person again. He’d been touring for several months and she hadn’t been able to see him for awhile, just the occasional video call.

“So! What figures did you guys want to check out first?” Dick asks, wedging himself between the two and forcing Adrien to drop her hand. Glaring at her brother, Marinette scoffs when Dick just smiles innocently.

“The hall of heroes and villains sounds cool.” Adrien suggests, looking around Dick to see Marinette.

“Hmm. Okay, but if the Nightwing figure is in his disco costume, I reserve the right to melt the statue.” She says, frowning at the choked noise Dick makes. “Are you okay?” She adds.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. What’s 1so bad about that costume?” He asks, a hurt expression on his face.

“Have you even seen it? The only worse costume is Riddler’s.” Marinette says, adding a shudder for dramatic effect. Walking past the local celebrities room and the pop stars room, Marinette’s eyes widen as their small group walks into the hall of heroes and villains. Walking away from Dick and Adrien, she’s almost instantly drawn to the Batman figure. She reads the little plaque about the artist and frowns, turning to Dick who had moved to stand next to her.

“I thought it’d be taller.” She says, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion when Dick starts choking on air, gasping for breath as broken chuckles flood out of him. “Ookay then.” She mutters, turning and walking back towards the villains. Nightwing was, luckily, depicted in his most recent costume. As was Robin. Which meant the only real fashion tragedy (besides the god awful helmet Red Hood wore) was the Riddler. Pulling her sketchbook out, Marinette circles the wax figure, occasionally making notes and sketching out slight adjustments to the man’s costume.

“His costume might be terrible, but it’s still better than half of the akumas.” Adrien whispers, leaning over her shoulder. Marinette looks up at him, eyes wide as her face heats up with a blush.

“I, uh, um, yes. Yeah.” She says, trying not to wince at her lack of speaking skills. “I mean, at least we can rule out any fashion designer in Paris as Hawkmoth. Because if Hawkmoth was a designer, that’d almost be a bigger crime.” She adds, smiling as Adrien laughs.

“Good to know you’re not moonlighting as Hawkmoth, m’lady.” He says with a mock bow. Marinette snorts, then covers her mouth, embarrassment rushing over her. Adrien just shakes his head, wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

“In case you forgot, we’ve definitely seen each other at our most embarrassing.” He says, making her groan.

“Oh god, no. I tied us up with my yoyo!” She moans, turning and burying her face into his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Her face heats up more when she feels him chuckle and wrap his arms around her.

“I’ve always thought that was paw-sitively adorable.” He says, laughing when she groans again. She pulls away slightly, looking up at him with a timid smile. He smiles back, starts to lean forward and-

“Hey guys! I heard they’re about to unveil the Jagged Stone figure. Come on, let’s go! Don’t wanna miss it.” Dick says, grabbing each of their hands and pulling them towards the exist (and successfully separating them again). Marinette tries not to glare at Dick. She’s about to have one less brother.

---

Dick Grayson wasn’t used to having a little sister that he could protect. Sure, he had a little sister. Cas was awesome, but she could also kick his ass without breaking a sweat. No, he’d never had a little sister to protect. Someone he could watch out for and support. But now….now he has Marinette. And he’ll be damned if he lets some little punk take advantage of his little sister. Ignoring Marinette’s glare, he positions himself right between her and...the boy. He’d need to ask Timmy to do a background check on the kid later. Especially if he thought he was good enough for Marinette.

“So are you guys big Jagged fans?” He asks, trying to pull the two back into a conversation. He narrows his eyes at the smile the kid gives Marinette. It’s too...adoring. Too much. She’s only...what, fourteen? Much too young to date. Especially this kid.

“Mari’s a bit of a fan, I think. But, personally, I much prefer Jagged’s designer.” He says, and Dick turns to him, missing the way Marinette’s face turns bright red.

“Are you talking about MDC? I love them! Their work is amazing! And Jagged Stone says that he’ll never have another designer. I heard that there’s a possibility of them opening their commissions again. God, I hope they do. I’d do anything for something made by MDC.” Dick rambles with a wide smile, deciding to ignore the kid for a minute in order to ramble about his favorite designer. As the group walks into the pop star room, Dick steps back and glares at the kid. He’d stepped just behind Dick and was apparently trying to hold Marinette’s hand again. Not on his watch. No siree. No one’s gonna hurt his little sister.

---

Bruce sighs, running his hands through his hair. He’d been checking the street cameras in Paris, trying to figure out what time Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol so that he can set up a meeting. Try and offer help, or maybe even offer to take control of the situation. Anything to get rid of Hawkmoth. But instead, it was like the heroes didn’t exist. He’d read reports of the heroes patrolling before, so why were they so quiet this week? The only akuma from the past couple days wasn’t even taken care of by both of them. Ladybug did it alone, and seemed worse for the wear when she came out of the battle. Where was Chat Noir? And why did it seem as though they had gone into hiding?

---

Marinette was five seconds away from committing her first murder. Okay, probably her only murder, unless her other brothers decide to be as involved in her love life as Dick is. Because Dick won’t have the chance to be a problem for much longer. Because Marinette was honestly going to kill him. Right as she turned to finally yell at him, and tell him to knock it off, the lights flickered. She pauses her tirade, glancing to gauge Dick’s reaction to see if this is normal. And if his worried glances back at her are anything to go by, this is not normal.

“Let’s play a game! Solve my riddles and you all can leave freely, but make a mistake and someone will pay greatly! Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?” A man’s voice asks, Marinette frowning as the Riddler walks in, a wide smile on his face. Ten goons walk in behind him, all of them carrying guns. She was used to the akuma attacks almost every day, but didn’t Gotham’s rogues have anything better to do than attack every place her class went? With guns? Come on. Riddler smirks and points at Adrien with his cane.

“A match.” She blurts out, ignoring Dick frantically shaking his head. If nothing else, she should be able to work with Adrien to get everyone out. But she knew his style. And riddles weren’t really his thing.

“Oh goody. We have a volunteer. Tell me, what has to be broken before you can use it?” Riddler asks, stalking towards her. Thinking for a second, Marinette tries to suppress a smile.

“An egg.” She says. Riddler narrows his eyes.

“I have 13 hearts, but no lungs or stomach. What am I?” He asks, Marinette frowns, running through possible answers in her head.

“A deck of cards.” She finally says.

“Buzzy, come over here and hold onto our friend.” Riddler says, gesturing to one of the goons. The man comes over and grabs Marinette’s arm roughly, she winces. That’ll definitely bruise.

“I answered your riddles.” Marinette says, deciding that now's as good a time as any to start distracting the man.

“And how did you answer them so quickly?” He asks, the frustration clear on his face.

“What do you mean? Were they supposed to be hard?” Marinette taunts, ignoring the choked sound Dick makes behind her. She knew what she was doing. She did. She had to.

“Why you-” Riddler starts, stepping forward and pulling his hand back as if to hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette waits for the slap. The slap never comes. Opening her eyes, Marinette’s jaw drops when she sees the Riddler’s fist held tightly in Dick’s hand.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” He says lowly, a dark look on his face. Well that was unexpected. Riddler opens his mouth, probably to start spouting more riddles or other nonsense, when the goons blocking the exits drop. Noticing Red Robin and Red Hood picking off the other goons, Marinette throws her elbow back into the gut of the goon holding her. Not waiting for him to recover, Marinette stomps his foot and twists out of his grip. Grabbing his arm, Marinette manages to yank the man off balance and toss him to the ground. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump back and prepare to hit the person.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay ma’am.” The voice attached to the hand says. Marinette whirls around, ready to tell off the person, but immediately stops when she sees Red Robin.

“Sorry!” She yelps, jumping away from him. And she was too. She was determined to hit the person who grabbed her shoulder, so locked into battle mode, but she had managed to stop herself. Glancing around the room, Marinette notices Dick talking to Red Hood, his usual smile back on his face. That’s good. That’s normal, that’s right. The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm makes Marinette want to scream in frustration. Really, right now? It’s definitely already dark in Paris which means- Chat Noir. Ignoring everyone else, Marinette runs over to Adrien and grabs his hand.

“Akuma?” He asks, his voice low. She nods and tugs him towards the bathrooms, unaware of the eyes following them out.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad au #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat batfam #mbdbwm2021 #day six overprotection #ao3fic

144 notes · View notes

mercurygguk · 4 years

Text

bleeding for you | jjk

genre; angst, fluff

pairing; EMT!jungkook x female reader

✎ summary; In which it’s just another quiet night at the fire station until there’s an alarmingly serious car accident not far away. Jungkook is the first on the scene along with his partner, Namjoon. What meets Jungkook at the scene of the accident is worse than anything he could ever imagine.

word count; 3,367

based on a request by anon; It's a Jungkook au, where he's a EMT & they get a call for a very serious accident. When he arrives on scene he sees a very familiar car. A hand dangles from the shattered window, the engagement ring he'd slipped on your finger not two months ago mocking him. I envision a happy ending, but if you want, do with it what you will.

warnings; Descriptions of car accidents, mentions of bruises and blood, jungkook’s crying a whole lot, i’m sorry if this is tough on your heart bc it definitely was on mine, phew

a/n; I LOVED THIS IDEA FROM ANON, SO THANK YOU ANON and let’s be honest here, paramedic/EMT!jungkook is lowkey hotttt. Also, I took some inspiration from the tv-show Chicago Fire and some from Grey’s Anatomy because those are the only shows I’ve actually watched with things related to this kind of scenario, lol. I hope you like it, enjoy!

ps. it’s heavily unedited and i wrote this rather quickly, so please ignore if you spot anything hehe

The clock ticks on the wall and there are sounds of cars passing by once in a while outside on the street. Jungkook is staring silently at the TV in the staff room, his eyes focused on the ball that moves around between the football players. He’s bored, sighing deeply to himself as he drops his head back against the back of the couch he’s currently slouching on. Namjoon, Jungkook’s partner, plops down beside him, a sandwich on a plate for him to eat for dinner. He looks happily at his sandwich, more than excited to bite into it and finally getting a chance to continue reading his book for once.

Jungkook hates quiet nights at the firestation. He despises them. It makes him think of all the other things he could be doing instead – an example being at home, in bed with you; his fiancé. A title you recently had gained after Jungkook finally got the courage to get down on one knee for you, asking you to be his for the rest of his life. Just the thought of the happiness he felt that night made butterflies erupt in his stomach, suddenly daydreaming about your smile and the way you always manage to make him feel like he’s floating on a pink cloud. He’s totally whipped, but only for you.

His daydream is quickly interrupted by the sound of Namjoon chewing his sandwich loudly, making Jungkook glare at him with disgust. Namjoon, the charming person that he is, looks back at Jungkook in confusion.

“What?” Namjoon blurts with his mouth filled with a bite of his disgusting sandwich. Jungkook shakes his head at him, turning back to the boring game that’s unfolding on the TV. He really hates quiet nights.

After half an hour and still nothing, Jungkook groans and gets up from the couch to wander around, causing Namjoon to look at him again with tired eyes. “What’s going on, Jeon?” He asks, flipping a page in his psychology novel.

“Nothing’s going on,” Jungkook grumbles, tired of just sitting around, “absolutely nothing.”

Namjoon is about to tell Jungkook to sit down and relax for once but the alarm beats him to it, sounding loudly throughout the entire fire station. “Squad 3, truck 81 and 82, ambo 65, 78 and 32 – bigger car crash on the 5th highway, multiple victims,” Taehyung from the alarm center's voice booms throughout the fire station’s rooms. Jungkook’s eyes widen and so do Namjoon’s. They’re quick to move, book, sandwich and football match long forgotten as they run to their unit. Jungkook jumps in the driver’s seat, buckling up faster than ever. His partner is fast to join him and buckling up as Jungkook speeds out of the garage at the fire station and onto the road. Jungkook’s focused, eyebrow knitted together in concentration and the urge to do what he does the best – save some lives.

The highway is chaotic once Jungkook and Namjoon arrive as the first ones at the scene, multiple cars lying around – on the hood, on the side and some crushed to the point of where it’s not even a car anymore. It looks worse than anything they have ever experienced and it’s slightly terrifying but they’re headstrong as they grab their medical bags and run off to a random car each. Squad 3 and the firetrucks pull up not long after Jungkook and Namjoon’s arrival, all of them getting out quickly and getting to work, trying to see if they can save all victims or just the majority of them.

The first car Jungkook reaches is empty, the driver of it luckily managed to get himself out before any sort of rescue arrived. He seems fine, his car almost not even scratched. “Sir, are you alright?” Jungkook asks, doing his job in making sure the man is alright before continuing to another car. The man nods, waving a hand at Jungkook.

“Please go see some of the others, I’m fine!” He almost sobs, clearly traumatized by the car accident.

Jungkook nods at that, giving him one last look all over before heading on to the next car. He looks around in his haste to get to the next one, stopping abruptly in his tracks as he spots a familiar looking car. It can’t be, he thinks to himself as he turns to look at the car properly. His chest tightens at the thought, feeling himself hastily moving closer to the car as tears begin to form in his eyes. It doesn’t occur to him until a hand dangling from the window catches his attention as he gets closer, the diamond ring confirming his worst fear.

“No, no, no!” Jungkook shouts in a mix of terror, anger and his heart breaking into a million pieces, tears already falling from his eyes as he runs up to the car, his hands trembling. Pain shoots through him at the sight of you, body limp and unconscious, face battered in bruises and wounds and there’s blood on your beautiful, white shirt and he prays to God that isn’t yours but who is he even trying to fool? Of course, it’s yours. “No, please, no!”

From the other side of the highway, Namjoon spots Jungkook scrambling towards the car that he, too, finds awfully familiar. His eyes widen at the sight as realisation hits him.

“Shit!” He hisses, making sure the victim he’s treating is okay before running towards Jungkook, heart beating a hundred miles per hour. All he can think about is getting his partner away from the car which is lying on its side. “Kook!”

Namjoon has to pull harder than he expected as he reaches Jungkook. He isn’t willing to let go of the car, hands reaching for your unconscious body that is still, thankfully, buckled up in the driver’s seat. You hear nothing of Jungkook’s cries as he’s pulled away by his partner and best friend. “____! Baby, please wake up, please!”

The sight in front of them is nothing but a real life nightmare, the scene only a fear of Jungkook’s until tonight. Namjoon has no idea how to calm his partner down as he pulls him away. His heart is breaking at the sound of Jungkook’s sobs, his chest heaving for air as he looks at the broken car, which was nicely parked in the parking lot of his and yours apartment building when he left for work this morning. He watches it being pulled apart to reach you, the EMTs of Ambo 78 tending to your wounds and body, trying their best to support you until they get you to the hospital.

They lift you into the ambulance, Jungkook’s body working automatically as he tries to jump into the back of the ambulance and ride with you to make sure that they’re taking care of you the right way. This isn’t just another victim, it’s you, Jeon Jungkook’s fiancé. Namjoon holds him back, using all his strength because a sad, terrified Jungkook is stronger than he ever could’ve imagined.

“Hyung, please, I need to go with her!” Jungkook cries, glancing quickly at the man holding him back, before looking back at the ambulance you’re now in. They close the doors, hurriedly getting in the front and speed off. “For fuck’s sake, Namjoon, let me go!”

Namjoon shakes his head, “I need you to calm down first, Kook. You’re not thinking clearly.”

Jungkook thinks that’s the biggest load of bullshit he’s ever heard. He whirls around, not in the mood for his best friend’s psychology shit. “I swear, I will punch you,” he sneers, eyes watery and cheeks stricken with tears. Namjoon stares back at him, lips in a tight line and eyes wide because he has never seen Jungkook so out of it before. “How am I supposed to calm down when my fucking fiancé is a victim of one of the biggest car crashes we’ve ever witnessed, huh? She’s hurt and unconscious in the back of one of OUR ambulances right now, Joon. Don’t fucking tell me to calm down.”

Despite his harsh words, Namjoon feels sorry for Jungkook. He nods, putting his hands up in surrender. Jungkook breathes out, chest heavy with a feeling he can’t quite describe. He just knows that he doesn’t want to waste another second here, the only place he wants to be is by your side until you wake up and tell him you’re okay.

“At least let me drive you to the hospital?” Namjoon offers, voice hesitant and cautious as he gestures to their ambulance.

Jungkook sniffs, nodding, “please.”

The ride to the hospital is quiet, tense too. Jungkook is staring straight ahead and not moving, just letting the tears in his eyes fall until he has none left. He’s pretty sure the drive to the hospital usually isn't this long. He feels like he’s been on this ride with Namjoon for hours when really, it has only been at least 15 minutes. 15 minutes too long, he thinks to himself. He could’ve been with you right now, holding your hand while you get sutured up and stitched back to perfection – at least what Jungkook thinks is perfection. However, you’d never agree on that.

Namjoon doesn’t get to say anything before Jungkook’s out of the passenger seat of the ambulance, his body moving almost before Namjoon had parked it. He doesn’t notice anything around him, heading straight for the front desk to ask about your status. The nurse there looks at him with a face that says she’s sorry without even saying the words. Jungkook doesn’t need those words, there’s nothing to be sorry for. People only say they’re sorry when something really bad happens, and as far as Jungkook knows, you’re still alive. You have to be. He hasn’t married you yet.

“My fiancé was brought here not long ago, her name is ____,” Jungkook hurriedly asks, the nurse working quickly to type into her computer. Jungkook taps his foot against the floor in impatience.

“She’s in surgery at the moment,” the nurse says softly, watching as Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat at the news. Namjoon comes up beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “The doctors will find you once they’re done.”

Namjoon nods in appreciation to the nurse, Jungkook stares at nothing in particular, scared he’ll break down in the middle of the entrance of the hospital he so often visits because of his job. “We’ll wait over there,” he tells the nurse, tugging Jungkook along. “Let’s go, Kook.”

Jungkook follows along, sitting down in a seat with Namjoon beside him. He feels like he should be calling his family and yours, yet he can’t think straight and his head is empty for words right now. The only thing on his mind is you and the fact that you’re at risk of dying. He has no idea how serious your injuries are but they’re serious enough to land you on the surgery table. His breathing is short, eyes staring at the floor and ears focusing on the sound of the opening and closing of the doors to the surgery halls. He feels alone even though Namjoon is sitting right beside him, he feels helpless, he feels like he’s been left in the dark. He knows nothing about what’s happening to you and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. The thought of losing you brings a new round of tears to his eyes, lips trembling as he fights to keep his sobs inside and not break down in the middle of other people. It’s like Namjoon senses as he gets up, pulling his phone from his pocket. He moves a bit away from Jungkook, speed dialling the only person he knows will be able to comfort his best friend in the slightest.

Jungkook’s wandering the waiting area, hands tightly intertwined in front of his lips and eyes closed as he walks back and forth in front of Namjoon. It has been at least three hours and his nerves aren’t exactly becoming less the longer it takes for the surgeons to give him some kind of news – any kind would be appreciated by now. He stills as a hand comes to rest against his back, gentle touch that can only belong to one person on this planet. He turns around to face her, her eyes softening at the sight of his red eyes and wet eyelashes.

“Mom,” he croaks out, a sob raking through his body as he crumbles into her embrace.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she coos, wrapping her arms around his tall frame, hugging her sweet, heartbroken son to her chest in the hopes of comforting him just the tiniest bit. They stay like that for a few minutes until Jungkook’s mother breaks the embrace, holding him at arm's length. “I’m sure she will be fine, Jungkook. She’s a strong woman.”

He sniffles, feeling slightly better at his mother’s words. He offers a small, the tiniest, smile. She smiles softly and comfortingly at him, reaching up to wipe his tears away. “You have to be strong too, sweetheart. She needs you to be strong for her.”

Jungkook nods and whispers lowly: “I know, mom.”

“Mr. Jeon?” A voice calls. Jungkook, his mother, and Namjoon whips around to face the doctor who called Jungkook’s name. “Miss ____ is out of surgery. We were able to fix her injuries and she is up for recovery now.”

Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, feeling a heavy weight disappearing from his shoulders. The doctor offers him a warm smile. “She will be in the ICU for at least a couple of days until we see some progress. You can go see her, she is in room 248.”

“Thank you so much,” Jungkook says with the utmost gratitude and a smile as he shakes the doctor’s hand before grabbing his things and heading in the direction of the ICU.

He finds the room without any problems, pausing just outside of the door. His mother and Namjoon both stand behind him, watching him in silence. They’re not pushing him, letting him do this on his own, letting him prepare for whatever he’s about to meet behind this door. He inhales and holds his breath before pushing the door open and heading inside. The sound of the monitor beeping is the first thing that meets him, what meets him next causes him to gasp softly in horror. This must be what it feels like to live out your nightmare and biggest fears, he thinks to himself as he moves closer to your body that’s lying unconsciously on the bed. It seems his tears are never-ending today as he pulls a seat to the side of the bed, sitting down with his eyes trained on you.

He looks you over, wincing lightly at the sight of tubes and IVs attached to you. There are scratches and wounds on your body, your skin beaten up from the harsh car crash you so unluckily ended up in earlier. He’s hesitant as he reaches for your hand, being more than careful as he intertwines his hand with yours. You don’t squeeze his hand like you always do and it makes him realize that you are in fact unconscious and probably not aware of the entire situation right now.

Jungkook scans your face, lips trembling and fingers shaking as he reaches up to move your hair out of your face. There’s scratches on your pretty face too, a big patch on the right side of your forehead where they stitched you up. He’s hurting, not quite as much as you, as he looks at you. You’re still gorgeous, even like this.

“I love you so much, ____,” Jungkook whispers, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your ring-clad hand. “Please be okay.”

Days have passed since the accident, and you still haven’t opened your eyes. Jungkook is becoming impatient, sitting here and waiting is killing him slowly. His mother had left in the morning after being with him throughout the first night. Jungkook had called your family while his mother held his hand. He will never forget the way a sob raked through your mother’s body as he told her what had happened. They were here now; your mother, your father and your brother, Yoongi. Your parents sit on either side of you, Jungkook’s resting against the wall at the end of the bed, Yoongi sitting in the chair beside him. The silence is almost unbearable but no one dares speaking, afraid of nothing in particular – perhaps the chances of you crashing right in front of all of them.

Jungkook’s done crying. He doesn’t think he has any tears left in him, only this heavy feeling of regret even though he has nothing to regret. No matter what, he couldn’t have stopped this from happening. Why you were out driving that late is still a mystery to him, but he’s not sure he wants to know. He has a feeling it will tear him apart knowing the reason.

Your dad jerks up from his resting posture causing everyone to widen their eyes at him. “S-she squeezed my hand,” he almost whispers. Jungkook’s breathing quickens, eyes staring at your closed ones. He waits, anticipating the worst. Your eyes flutter, a small crease forming in your forehead as you try to adjust to the lights in the room. He sighs in relief for what feels like the hundredth time, feeling the tears coming back. Okay, he isn’t quite done yet.

“Jungkook?!” You croak out, trying to sit up. Jungkook feels his heart breaking at the tone in your voice. You sound confused, slightly shaken up and sad. He’s quick to be at your side, taking over from your father. His hand grabs yours, fingers intertwining automatically. “Kook,” you whimper, clearly not fully awake from your deep days long slumber.

“I’m here, baby” he softly calls, searching your eyes with his own, “I’m right here.”

You look at him, eyes locking and you feel yourself calm down already. Jungkook notices the unshed tears in your hazy eyes. “Where am I?” You ask, voice small.

“The hospital,” he explains, keeping his voice low and soft for you as you just woke up from a long, long nap. “You were in an accident, ____. Do you remember what happened?”

You shake your head, wincing at the movement. Your entire body is sore, hurting everywhere and you want to cry. You just want to cry and hug Jungkook tightly because that’s the only place you feel safe and happy, in his arms.

“How long?” You speak a bit louder now, still not registering your entire family standing around the two of you. You’re in your own little world, your focus only aimed at the curly-haired man in front of you. Your mom is watching you closely, letting a small tear slip down her cheek as she takes in the moment of you and Jungkook. Your father is right beside her, rubbing her arms in comfort. Yoongi is watching too, smiling to himself because he doesn’t think his younger sister could’ve found anyone more fit for her than Jeon Jungkook.

“Only a few days,” Jungkook answers, bringing your intertwined hands to his chest. His heart is beating hard and fast causing you to gasp. He smiles at you as you look up at him, eyes wide.

You move to press your other hand to his chest, resting it above his heart. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. Even when you’re the one hurting, you ask him if he’s okay just because his heart is beating a bit faster than it usually does. He nods, smiling softly at you, eyes twinkling with fresh tears once again.

“I’m fine,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “Just really relieved.”

You smile at his words, only imagining how worried he must’ve been the past few days if you’ve been in this bed and unconscious. “I love you, Kook.”

Jungkook chokes out a laugh, “I love you too baby, more than anything.”

2K notes · View notes

fandom-monium · 3 years

Text

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!!

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure.

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fic #my writing #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds

618 notes · View notes

aetheternity · 3 years

Note

I have a request

Levi's wife y/n and 4 or 5 year old son get kidnapped by kenny and the military police. They get taken to the crystal cave with eren and historia. So when levi comes to save them he is livid and is quickly taking down every mp in his way. Luckily both y/n and her son make it out safely with levi and his squad.

Levi, y/n, and their son have a soft moment and they all hug and give kisses 😚😚😚 and day squad teases them

(I added my own little spin to this where Y/N is playfully argumentative and sometimes wild with Levi. Hope that's ok! I also thought it would be cute if Levi and Y/N’s son was named after Levi’s late friend Farlen.)

"We have more than just Historia and Eren now." Levi grunted, facing Hange. "My son and Y/N were taken as well."

"We can't wait then. We'll leave as soon as possible."

Levi squeezed the paper Hange had given him earlier in his grasp as his squad whooped and hollered behind him. Kenny probably wouldn't kill them, they were insurance after all. Which was that much worse for Levi.

He already knew if he didn't manage to calm himself before they got to Kenny he would lash out recklessly. The one thing he'd told his wife and son to never allow themselves to do.

~~~~

"Oi." Levi stepped closer, concern etched onto his face. His eyebrows scrunched where he looked into his wife's eyes. "If you continue moping around our child's health will be at risk and yours. The doctor already told you that."

She turned, eyes narrowed and lips tight where they were pulled into a frown. "What else am I supposed to feel? The father of my baby is running around dodging death. Am I supposed to be happy Levi?"

Levi rolled his eyes, his hand already coming up to the bridge of his nose in expectation for the upcoming brawl of sorts. "I'll be alive for the birth of our son."

"Will you though?" She stepped closer, challenge rising in her tone and eyes.

"I'm not leaving you or the soon to be kid we've made. And you already know that." He fought back. "I'd sooner go back to the underground."

Her hands ran up to his collar tugging him closer. And he let her, let every bit of fury trapped beneath those stone cold eyes run over his spine like a flash of lightning all with the same neutral expression.

"I'm so serious you wouldn't even believe. If you don't come back one of these days and I have to raise this baby all on my own. I'm gonna bring you back to life just so I can kill you again. Do you hear me Levi Ackerman?"

Levi let out a little huff and a small smirk ran over his lips. She let him go and he straightened out his collar. "You get scarier everyday." He remarked "Way scarier than any damn titan."

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her down the mostly empty corridor. "You saw the doctor again today right? Tell me what happened."

"We've got a healthy Ackerman on our hands. He's grown bigger than he's supposed to be at this stage actually." She smiled softly as she placed a hand on her belly. "Probably cause he has your blood."

"Tch, moron. He's already his mother. Constantly kicking every time I touch your belly. He's gonna be a brat just like you."

"I hope he gets my height and not yours."

"For his sake your height instead of your mouth would be good."

"My mouth has gotten you through many long nights so I wouldn't complain if I were you."

Levi playfully rolled his eyes as Y/N's soft laugh filled the corridor. Her eyes shining brighter than they had her whole pregnancy. It was weird Levi had always heard about new parents being scared but he barely was.

When he'd found out he'd been more surprised than anything but he'd barely even had the time to over analyze the situation until that night. This unbelievably wild girl was the mother of his child. What more could he want.

Fear did dawn on him. Knowing he'd have something new in this world that needed his protection. Something so precious and small to protect. But another part of him knew that kid would be safer if he got his mother's fighting spirit.

"Hey, you better not be thinking about other girls." Y/N huffed as she poked at Levi's forehead.

Levi grabbed her finger. "Dumbass, no one else would be able to handle you if I left."

"Just sounds like you're making excuses so that you don't have to tell me, you adore me and could never find anyone else who brings you this much joy."

"No." That barely even scratched the surface..

~~~~

"Do you have a location on them?" Hange asked

"There're a whole bunch of military police and Kenny's squad is surrounding the entire area. But no sign of Kenny himself or any of the people who were taken." Sasha replied

Levi huffed, brain not wanting to retreat to the worst possible scenario. Besides the conversation currently developing in front of him there was a sort of quiet drifting in the atmosphere.

"We have a plan right?" Armin suddenly asked

And Hange nodded, "You're gonna need these." Her hands clasped around the cool metal of the signal flares.

"Signal flares??" Jean stared in disbelief

"Don't worry, we're getting out of here alive hostages and all." Hange stated before turning to Levi. "They're ok."

Levi blinked, slowly but surely uncurling his fists. He looked around to the others their faces a mix of concern and in certain cases glee. But they all had the same sentiment.

"Put the plan into motion." Levi stood

~~~~

It went surprisingly quickly. From the barrels they'd deployed to the signal flares being shot off. Sasha and Mikasa taking out the military police like no one's business but Levi could already feel his Ackerman rage growing.

Where the hell was Kenny? He thought.

His question was soon answered when a bullet flew past his cheek immediately drawing blood. The next bullet striking an ice pillar with a hard crack as he ducked for cover behind it.

Levi paused repositioning himself to jump and land behind one another of the thick pillars searching for the source of the bullets. "Where the hell are they?" He grunted voice raspy, thick and loud where he called to the only person that would be behind this.

Kenny's laugh was boisterous, heavy where it bounced between each pillar. The amount of sweat that had collected on Levi's palms had his weapon slippery in his grip and the vein in his forehead was close to popping.

"I think you have other things here you should be concerning yourself with."

In the blink of an eye Levi's head shot backwards, Jean's scream mixed with the heart shattering sound of Hange hitting one of the pillars caught his attention. A bullet releasing her blood as she slipped and rolled over against the ground like a discarded toy.

"Tch!"

"Levi! Oi you should be worried about me. After all. Your little family dies by my call!"

If Levi was boiling before his blood was erupting now. With incredible skill and speed he bounced his way around the pillars dodging each bullet as Kenny shot them out. His agility raised as he flipped over Kenny's form and behind him. In an instant Levi was tossing a bag full of flammable liquid in time to meet his next shot.

When the bag tore open Levi flew forward, through burning flames created by Kenny's gun tossing his blade. The motion caught Kenny off guard but he managed to dodge it, his hat flying off into a nearby pillar along with Levi's blade to hold it up there.

Levi's heart was hammering taking the advantage he'd managed to get he flew at Kenny with incredible speed slicing through his torso almost like it was butter. In the heat of adrenaline Levi watched as Kenny's body fell to the ground of the cool cavern.

He landed with a hard breath before retracting the odm gears hooks. He couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't stop himself from running forward no matter how stupid and dangerous it was.

He heard bits and pieces of speech behind him. "Follow Captain!" And "Wait, hold on!" But none of it stopped his feet.

He skidded in his pace as he heard soft calls of, "Dad! Dad!"

And he was immediately headed for it. A bit of relief flooding his chest as he heard the faint sounds of odm gear clanging behind him. His squad clearly keeping good pace.

When he arrived he instantly locked eyes with his five year old son and wife.

"Dad!" Farlen's voice echoed. He didn't look injured from what Levi could tell and neither did Y/N. Farlen's hair tosseled as if he'd merely been running outside.

"Where are Historia and Eren?!" Mikasa called as she ran up behind Levi.

"Guys!" Historia's voice boomed. She slunk forward barely supporting Eren's weight. His shirt gone and his face covered in blood.

Levi quickly ran to untie Y/N and Farlen immediately embracing Farlen when he jumped into his arms. If he were any other kid Levi would probably be questioning why he hadn't shit his pants and why his face was tearless. But he definitely wasn't any other five year old.

"Geez, you guys took forever." Y/N remarked, stretching her hands above her head. "I was about to wreck all these Military brats butts for you." She said with a smirk at Levi.

Levi huffed, rubbing his son's back. "Next time you can save yourself then." He remarked giving Farlen a soft head rub.

"Ugggh Mom.. Dad not now.." he sighed

"There won't be a next time!" Y/N fought back. "I'll never get caught up like that again."

"Tch, whatever."

"Are you challenging me Mr. Ackerman?"

"You're a brat, Ms. Ackerman."

"How about I show you how much of a brat I can really be?" She chuckled with a dark smile etching over her features. She pulled him closer, hugging his and Farlen's form with a firm hand on Levi's lower back.

"Don't start something you can't finish." Levi whispered back.

"Ewwwwww.." Farlen mock gagged between them.

Y/N just laughed loudly. "You'll understand when you have someone you love to hate, Farlen."

"Yeah.. I'm with Farlen. That's eww." Connie remarked with a shake of his head.

The others soon joined in with their own little laughs and teasing words. "I can't believe how soft Captain can be." And "They're such a cute family I hope I get that some day."

Levi repositioned Farlen on one arm ignoring all the chatter. Though his cheeks bloomed a rosy color that was extremely unmistakable "Historia, where's your father?"

"He escaped before you guys got here. He's headed toward the wall." She replied

"We've gotta hurry then."

(I'm so sick of people on the internet rn I swear🙄)

#aot x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #shingeki no kyoujin levi #snk x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman headcanons

342 notes · View notes

scripturiends · 3 years

Text

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Read on ao3

Summary: It was the one time her hunch had been wrong.

In which Han Joonhwi is acting suspicious, and Kang Sol A intends to find out why.

Rating: T

Word count: 3,848

Notes: Title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘invisible string’: “Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs; were there clues I didn’t see?”

As promised, here is the Solhwi fic that I had hoped to be up before Episode 7 airs. I went straight to work after receiving positive feedback from an interest check post. As I mentioned there, the story isn’t necessarily dwelling on the current timeline, but is, for the most part, still canon-compliant. I totally made up all the legal jargon, so please bear with me. And, like the show, I decided to do ‘cutscenes’ instead of one unilinear fic.

I had a lot of fun with this little project for the past two days, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :) I’d also love to hear your thoughts, please do send me a message or feel free to comment, it would mean the absolute world to me. Thank you and let’s all look forward to Episodes 7 and 8 this week!

The fic is under the cut. As a sidenote, this fic is un-beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.

Kang Sol A swears she only drifted off for a second.

She had been burning the midnight oil for the past few days, well into the weekend, so much that the tension was radiating into her atmosphere, so much that the heat was starting to get to her head. Her Civil Code paper may not write itself, but neither could she if it took every ounce of her energy just to even sit up. So she plopped down on her bed, head heavy on her pillow, still fighting the urge to doze off.

She blinked, slowly, and as her eyes fluttered at an alarming rate, they eventually closed — just for a moment, I’ll count to ten and then wake up again — and stilled.

Birds were chirping outside her window when her eyes shot open, and that’s how she knew she messed up big-time. She woke with a start, frantically shaking off the books and papers off her person and frisking for her phone, silently praying that she wasn’t too late for her meeting with her project partner Seo Jiho, who she knows absolutely despises latecomers.

Sol A felt something vibrate from behind her, and an incomprehensible sound escaped her lips as she checked her phone. There were mountains of notifications that prevented her from checking the current time: self-set alarms, e-mails from her professors, reminders about today’s meeting with Jiho, and missed calls from a certain Han Joonhwi.

Clearing all of them at once, she finally reads: 9:07 AM. She was supposed to meet Jiho at 9:15. Sol A breathes a sigh of relief, but her momentary celebration is cut short when her phone starts to ring.

Han Joonhwi was calling again.

She didn’t even get a chance to speak yet when the voice on the other end asked, “Breakfast?”

Sol A put him on speaker phone as she packed up her things. “Can’t,” she replied mindlessly. “I have to meet with Seo Jiho and I’m already late. Eat by yourself.”

A few seconds of silence went unnoticed as Kang Sol A zipped up her knapsack and wore it over her shoulder. She finally picked up her phone and switched back to the handset. “Don’t skip breakfast, you hear me?”

Still nothing. “Joonhwi-ah.”

“Walk fast,” was all he said. And then he hung up.

That caught Sol A off guard, but she heeded the advice anyway.

She made it to the study room at exactly 9:13, only stopping by the entrance to catch her breath and tie her hair back into a ponytail. It was silent, so she half-hoped that no one would be there, but half-expected nothing less from Jiho. So she walks in, footsteps heavy, only skidding to a halt when she sees Jiho staring someone down, someone whose back looked all-too-familiar.

“You like her, don’t you?” she overhears from Jiho. “Kang So-”

Jiho suddenly fell silent at the sight of Sol A, and the man opposite him suddenly turned his head towards her. She was right about who it was — it was none other than the person she spoke with on the phone just a few minutes ago.

If Joonhwi was surprised, he didn’t show it.

But Kang Sol A did. She blinked once, and with a hint of dubiousness, she asked, “Who likes who?”

The men shared a look, and she was met with silence again, which was beginning to irk her. But she bit her tongue, took a seat across Seo Jiho, and grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You aren’t...” Jiho replied, trailing off.

“I am by your standards. I know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “For Seo Jiho, ‘on time’ actually means ‘thirty minutes early’. Which means I’m late.”

Sighing wistfully, Sol A added, “I learned that the hard way.”

She locks eyes with Joonhwi momentarily, but he averts his gaze, expression unreadable. Sol A ignores this and tries her luck once more, eyes flitting from Jiho to Joonhwi and back. “Who were you guys talking about?”

This time, almost with no hesitation, Joonhwi finally spoke up. “No one,” he answered. “My roommate was just practicing his cross-examination skills on me.”

He stood up, giving Seo Jiho a final staredown. “They’re very poor at the moment. Help him out, will you?”

Then, without looking Kang Sol A in the eye, he gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, and promptly left.

Sol A’s eyes followed Joonhwi’s back, and stayed there even after he left. His touch lingered on her shoulder like a ghost, but instead of comfort, all she felt was fear. Suspicion. Restlessness. That maybe he was hiding something, and whether it involved her or not, she was keen on finding out just exactly what it was.

II.

“I’m telling you, Yeseul-ah,” Sol A insists. “Something’s up with him.”

They link arms, walking past the school entrance and into the lobby. Jeon Yeseul turns to her, hair falling perfectly into place as she lets out an angelic laugh. God, Sol A thinks. Even her laugh is perfect. But past the admiration for her Aphrodite-like features, Sol A feels like she’s being mocked.

She pouts. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do!” Yeseul defends. “You think he likes Kang Sol B.”

Sol A slides her left hand off Yeseul’s arm and holds her friend’s right one lightly. “So why are you laughing at me, then?”

“Unnie.” Yeseul wraps an arm around Sol A’s shoulder. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Joonhwi-oppa likes you?”

Sol A almost choked on her spit. Of course she’s thought about it — after all, she’s a hundred percent certain that it was the name Kang Sol that slipped from Seo Jiho’s mouth a few days ago. But none of the evidence so far points to it being herself. And anyway, it’s not as if he’s shown any interest in Sol A as a woman. In fact, all he does is tease her. And she’s okay with that. And Sol B already likes Joonhwi. And they seem to be a far better fit than Sol A and Joonhwi. And it’s not like she harbors any romantic feelings for him, either.

She pushes the thought away before it could become bigger.

Sol A denies, deflects, and defends. “That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” her friend challenges.

“Why would he be avoiding me if that were true?” Sol A counters.

“People do that when they feel awkward around their crush,” Yeseul rebuts.

This is starting to feel like a game of chess rather than a conversation between best friends. “I think he’s just scared I’ll tell my roommate or something.” Before Yeseul could say anything else, by some stroke of luck, Sol A spots Joonhwi from her peripheral vision, walking past Lady Justice.

Yeseul smiles kindly at Sol A. She doesn’t doubt its genuineness, but she feels like it’s laced with mischief. “Should we test your theory, then?”

What does that mean?

“Joonhwi-oppa!” Yeseul shouts, waving at him from across the room.

She’s not going to ask him, is she?

Yeseul runs to Joonhwi, a light skip in her step. “I have something to ask you.”

Wait.

“Wait,” escaped from Sol A’s lips, barely a whisper before it started registering on her what Yeseul was about to do. And when it does, she finally sprints. “Jeon Yeseul, wait!”

“Oppa.” Yeseul bats her eyelashes at Joonhwi. Sol A was in tow behind her, feeling small but unsure why.

“Oh, Yeseul-ah,” Joonhwi greets. His eyes lit up at the sight of his friend and classmate.

While it pained Sol A to just sit back and watch, knowing that Joonhwi had been purposefully avoiding her, she let the scene unfold, trusting that Yeseul knew what she was doing.

“You haven’t been going to the study group sessions lately,” Yeseul starts.

Sol A hoped it would get a rise out of him, seeing as he was the one who started the group to begin with, but was barely showing up these days. Instead, all he said was, “The pair project in Civil Code has been holding me up.”

Yeah, right, she thinks. A second-round judicial exam passer and a former police academy student having a hard time in Civil Code? Why do I find that hard to believe?

Sol A scoffs, and Yeseul pinches her side. “Sol-unnie and I are meeting the others for lunch. You should come join us.”

“Ah,” Joonhwi drawled out slowly, as if coming up with an excuse to say no. Sol A expects it to be his next move. “I wish I could, but-”

Knew it.

“Kang Sol B will be there,” Sol A blurts out, fully aware that it’s a total lie. Still, she had to try.

Something in Joonhwi’s mood changed, and his face hardened. Still not making eye contact with Sol A, he excuses himself from Yeseul. “I’ll take a rain check today, okay?”

And without another word, he left again, leaving Sol A with the same emptiness that she had felt in the study room the other day.

Yeseul finally turns to Sol A, crossing her arms. “You’re right. He’s being weird.”

III.

A few more days without Joonhwi’s company, and Sol A was starting to feel its ill effects on her. She hadn’t realized just how much she took him for granted until he was no longer around to challenge her ideas, to annoy her over the littlest of things, to calm her down when she’s freaking out, to be her drinking buddy, to be someone she could tell any and every stupid story to, with the utmost confidence that he’ll keep it to himself or that he wouldn’t belittle her for it.

They’d been through too much together now, and even their fateful first meeting all those years ago didn’t faze him from her. In fact, her little scheme, no matter how deceitful at the time, brought him closer not just to her, but to Byeol, her mom, and to an extent, even Dan.

So what changed? What on earth did Seo Jiho say to him, and what on earth did she walk into, that made him close himself off from her? Proximity may not breed familiarity, but right now she wishes nothing more than to be in his orbit again.

Arguably the worst consequence of the lack of Joonhwi in Sol A’s life right now is having no one to eat with.

During one of her all-nighters at the dorm, she found herself with an intense craving for some ramyeon. She removed her earphones, partly to pull herself back to reality, but mostly to ask her roommate to have a meal with her. As if Sol B would say yes, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m going downstairs for a bite. You wanna come?”

No response, as expected from Kang Sol B. Sol A inwardly rolled her eyes, spinning in her chair to tease her roommate, only to find the desk empty.

She scratched her head while walking, wondering where Sol B could be at this time of night. And without a heads up, too… She was getting worried.

But it seems like her concern was all for naught, because Sol B was right where Sol A was headed.

And she was there with Han Joonhwi.

She was laughing. It was the first time that she saw Sol B laugh, maybe ever, and to see that Joonhwi could be someone who could do that for her, made Sol A feel proud. Like knowing Han Joonhwi was a privilege, not only because of the way he could make people comfortable around him, but also because Sol A had once been on the receiving end of it herself.

She should be relieved. In fact, she should be happy. Because it means that her guess was right, which means she doesn’t have to keep digging anymore. She could just tell Joonhwi that his secret’s safe with her, and they could finally go back to the way they were before... Right?

And yet something about witnessing the pair interact as a mere bystander didn’t sit right with Sol A. There’s a pang in her chest that she can’t quite comprehend — maybe she just misses him, or maybe it’s something else completely. Because if Han Joonhwi has feelings for Kang Sol B, and they’re together right now, then that leaves only one explanation: he must be avoiding her, and for a completely different reason.

It was the first time her hunch had been wrong.

Needless to say, Sol A lost her appetite and trudged back upstairs lifelessly, a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place where it even came from.

IV.

Come Friday, Sol A was too exhausted to even think about Han Joonhwi. Between the endless deadlines and papers to write, her job in the copy room, and the Seo Byungju case, her energy had been too depleted and her social battery too worn out to even care that her relationships could be falling apart.

The only thing she has going for her now is the Legal Clinic, the one place where she could bury her nose deep in case digests and law readings and she would absolutely never get tired of it, because it’s the one place where she feels like she’s making a real difference, especially when people’s lives are at stake. It was the remaining part of her life where Sol A felt like she was in control, so these days, all her emotionally-charged passion was focused on this one thing.

But of course that had to fall apart too, when Professor Yang asked for her to stay after class.

He cut right to the chase. “I’ll be meeting with my defense lawyer today so I need you to consult with the client in my stead.”

Count on Yangcrates to always give Sol A a heart attack in under two seconds.

“M-me?” she stuttered.

The professor’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly, which Sol A took as a sign to backtrack and confidently proclaim that she’s up to the task. She knows there’s nothing Yang Jonghoon hates more than a quitter.

“Ah, yes, of course,” she accedes, with a little more verve.

He nods once in her direction. “And take Han Joonhwi with you,” he commanded.

She’s doomed. Not that she wasn’t doomed before, but now that Professor Yang had to drag her personal life into this, she was really in shambles.

Sol A clears her throat. “With all due respect, Sir,” she laughs nervously, “don’t you trust me?”

Professor Yang takes a moment to think about it. Sol A wonders if today’s the day she finally gets a definitive answer. But Yangcrates is as sly as ever. “This is your chance to get back at him for the Bad FaMa case. Make him your assistant this time.”

He walks away, leaving Sol A dumbfounded once again, but not before he adds, “Under my orders, of course.”

Sol A’s knees buckled at the thought. Normally, she would find this predicament to be absolutely funny, a chance to bicker with Joonhwi and learn something from him at the same time. But he’s angry at her, and she doesn’t even know why, and even merely approaching him has turned into a problem.

Everything in Sol A’s life right now is a problem. She wonders if it's getting Joonhwi back that would fix everything.

Upon leaving the classroom, she spots him getting a drink from the vending machine. She has to slap herself twice, just to mentally prepare herself, to muster up the courage to approach him again.

“Come on, Sol,” she whispers to herself. “This isn’t hard.”

Shaking off the nerves, she takes a step forward, but in a momentary state of weakness, takes another step back. “So what if he’s mad? That’s his problem. I’ve never given him a reason to be angry. He should suck it up. Not me. Come on. Just do it.”

A step forward.

“Just do it.”

A step back.

“Goddamn it.”

One final step back to boost herself forward, and she’s running towards him, pretending to be as casual as possible. “Han Joonhwi!” she calls out to him.

His eyes widen at the sight of her, knowing he has nowhere to escape.

“Did you get my text? Professor Yang needs our help at the Legal Clinic.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

Joonhwi scratched the back of his head, and Sol A just knows it’s about to be another lame excuse. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sol B for our Civil Code term paper.”

He can’t even look at her, and Sol A wonders just how bad she had hurt Joonhwi for him to feel like this towards her. But that only lasted for a second, when she realized just exactly what he said. Then, her pity turned into irritation, as she accused, “Liar.”

Sol A crossed her arms, and glared at Joonhwi. “Did you forget that I’m her roommate? She went home today.”

Sol A sat across Joonhwi inside the Legal Clinic, her eyes narrowed to slits. A profound silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by a sharp inhale from her.

“You like Kang Sol B, don’t you?”

The only response she got was Han Joonhwi’s signature smirk, playful and taunting, one that said, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will’.

She hated that.

She slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have kept your secret if you just asked. Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you think I’d tell her or something?”

The same smile painted on his face, Joonhwi exhaled defeatedly. “Kang Sol A, I thought I taught you to never make any claims with unfounded bases.”

An eyebrow perched up on Sol A’s end. “It’s not unfounded,” she argues.

“Where’s your evidence, then?” he dared her.

Sol A had been waiting for this. She listed everything he had ever done — or refused to do, which was spend time with her, speak to her, or even look at her, which was absolutely the bare minimum — since the incident with Seo Jiho up to this very moment.

He waves his hand dismissingly. “That’s all speculative.”

If his goal was to rile her up, then it’s definitely working. “Then what about what I heard Seo Jiho tell you that one time? And most importantly, you straight up lied to my face.”

“Circumstantial,” he quips. “That would never hold up in court, especially not when the only witness is yourself. How are you going to be both the defense lawyer and the sole witness?”

Han Joonhwi should be at the edge of the precipice here, and yet he has managed to flip the situation over and turn it into an interrogation for Kang Sol A.

Nothing can hide her frustration anymore. “I would never be the lawyer in my own case. Look, it’s still evidence. You asked, and I gave it. Seriously, Han Joonhwi, what’s with you?”

Instead of a direct answer, he points out, “You rely on your emotions too much.”

Almost immediately, she shoots back, “And you rely on the law too much. This isn’t a courtroom. This is a human conversation.”

He purses his lips, unable to say anything, and Kang Sol A continues. “You’re too stubborn.”

“And you’re too nosy.”

“You’ve benefited from it more than once.” Sol A’s patience is getting thinner by the second. “Can’t you just tell me what I did so that I can either apologize for it or call you out for being wrong?”

“You and Sol B are hardly friends. What reason would I have to be afraid?” Amusement gleamed in Joonhwi’s eyes; Sol A was astounded by how he could stay so nonchalant about this. “Think.”

She glared at him, but still ceded. Damn his tenacity. “Fine, I’ll play along.”

She rolled her eyes, and in a blasé manner, started to think out loud. “I overheard Jiho ask you if you liked Kang Sol, and then you started avoiding me. Yeseul asked you to join us for lunch, and when I said Sol B would be there, even though she really wasn’t, you declined. So I thought it was her that you liked. But it doesn’t make sense, because I saw you two hanging out at the cafeteria that one night-”

His arrogant expression changed to one of shock. “You did?”

“-and then you straight up lied to me about your plans. Unless you two are already dating-”

“We’re not,” he interrupts once more. Sol A eyes him with suspicion. “We’re not,” he repeats indignantly.

“-it could only mean that you do like Kang Sol…”

Joonhwi starts slowly nodding, face a little flushed, but somehow urging her on to continue.

“...just not B. You like-”

“Kang Sol A.” Professor Yang enters the room, calling out her name.

She’s sure her professor asked her to do something, but she was unmoved. At this point, she doesn’t think anything could pull her out of her reverie for the rest of the day.

A veil that covered her eyes was lifted, and she had never been so pitiful of the blindfold that Lady Justice wore. The scales Kang Sol A carried, as heavy as the burdens she was facing, balanced with Han Joonhwi holding them up with her. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand right at that moment, to feel the heaviness in its entirety, and thank him for staying anyway.

They don't talk for the rest of the day, but Kang Sol A is unbothered.

Her questioning attitude may have always gotten her in trouble in school, but this was the one time she was glad to be wrong.

Epilogue

Han Joonhwi fell asleep on his desk again.

He normally finishes up all his revisions early, but because of his agitation, the cold table seemed to be more inviting than the bed, where he simply ends up tossing and turning.

Despite the stiff neck it was bound to cause, he’s been doing it for days, only being woken up by his constant 8:30 alarms. This time, however, it was his gracious roommate Seo Jiho who finally interrupted him from his slumber.

Jiho slammed a sealed instant ramyeon pack on Joonhwi’s desk. He groggily looked up at his friend, whose hair was still disheveled, and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s from Kang Sol A.” Before walking away, he deadpanned, “Do your own bidding next time. I’m not your messenger.”

Joonhwi took the cup ramyeon, spotting the bright yellow sticky note on it, not unlike the ones he’d put on Sol A’s notebook, or occasionally, her forehead. He smiled to himself as he read the message, walking out to heat up some water for breakfast, but not before carefully displaying the note on his bulletin board for the whole world to see.

Han Joonhwi,

For a second-round judicial exam passer, you can be so dense.

I like you back, you idiot.

Now stop sulking and have breakfast with me.

Idiot.

Send me your thoughts/fic requests here!

248 notes · View notes

cosmicjoke · 3 years

Text

Ah, chapters 113 & 114 of AoT, and I’ve only got one thing to say.

Zeke, am I supposed to be feel sorry for the bitch? Well I DON’T.

No, seriously, fuck this guuuuuuuuy, I know I keep saying it again and again, but God damn, if these two chapters didn’t just solidify my hatred for the bastard.

First of all, he is just... the most whiny, delusional, self-pitying pathetic loser, just... he really is. I feel like a character in a Peanuts comic strip every time he opens his mouth. All I hear is “whaa, whaa, whaa”. And his delusions of grandeur would almost be funny if they weren’t so pathetic.

Here’s the thing, alright, and I’m sorry if I’m going to offend any Zeke fans with what I’m about to say, but too bad, I guess.

Everything out of this shitheads mouth is a lie. And just because he’s convinced himself of his own bullshit doesn’t make the lies coming out of his mouth any more true.

He turns Levi’s fellow soldiers into Titans. He does this without remorse. Don’t try to tell me Zeke felt bad about it. He didn’t. You know how I know he didn’t? Because in his private moments in the immediate aftermath, he mocks Levi over having done it, gloating about his supposed master plan of using Levi’s compassion against him and utilizing it to ensure Levi’s own demise. Zeke’s entire attitude here is sickeningly unbothered, unburdened, uncaring, and smug in the EXTREME. He mocks Levi’s compassion, literally makes fun of it and lambasts it as a pathetic sign of weakness when he says “I know you’re a caring leader. Your soldiers haven’t done anything wrong. They’ve just grown a little bigger. You wouldn’t, say, slice them to pieces over that, would you?”. This is Zeke making fun of the fact, finding AMUSEMENT in the fact that he’s just murdered 30 people who have never done a single thing to him, and reveling in what he thinks is a victory that will lead to Levi’s own death, reveling in having taken advantage of and weaponizing a better man’s kindness and compassion. Zeke is ENJOYING this moment. Just like he enjoyed killing all those soldiers in Shinganshina. And then, the kicker, and this is a particular point about Zeke that just makes me absolutely sick, he pretends to himself as if he didn’t want to do it. He PLAYS at his own regret, saying, “I didn’t want do this either,” and yet in the very next breath, continues to treat what he’s done with grotesque flippancy, saying “Still, how sad... There wasn’t even a battle or skirmish.” Gloating over how easily he’s bested Levi and his men, before going on to sink further into his insane delusions of grandeur, blaming their inability to trust one another on Levi’s inability to “understand”. I’m sorry, Zeke, but no. You didn’t even TRY to help Levi understand, too wrapped up in your own egotistical god-complex to consider it a possibility. ‘Oh, only I could possibly understand, along with Eren, the great task we two special beings have been burdened with. He makes assumptions about Levi’s life, about the kinds of things he’s seen and experienced, and convinces himself that they couldn’t be anything like what Zeke has (which, hilariously, is all wrong, since out of everyone, Levi knows better than anyone else in the SC what it’s like to be treated as a second class citizen). Zeke just assumes Levi couldn’t possibly ever grasp the complexities of the outside world, and so that’s why Zeke didn’t even bother trying to talk to him. Blah, blah, blah. No, Zeke, you didn’t share your stupid ass plan because you wanted to continue to feel special, like you’re the chosen one who gets to decide the fate of an entire race of people. The most hilarious part of this entire sequence is when Zeke is thinking Levi couldn’t ever understand the concept of all the world’s militaries bearing down on Paradis at once, and what that means, couldn’t grasp the urgency of the situation, as if ZEKE HIMSELF isn’t completely fucking responsible for that situation in the first place. Zeke literally engineered it. He created the problem, and now wants to position himself as the savior. He’s just such a loser man. The God damned definition.

And as if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when it turns out Zeke’s plan to take Levi out failed miserably, and Levi comes after his sorry ass like a bat out of hell, Zeke continues to mock Levi, to laugh at what Levi’s just had to do in order to survive and pursue Zeke. He says “Where’d your adorable little men go!? Don’t tell me you killed them all! The poor things!”. Are you fucking serious? Zeke’s behavior here is one of the most sickening things in the entire story, bar none. The way he laughs at Levi here for having to cut down 30 of his friends and comrades, the absolute display of sociopathic glee and disregard for the severe, horrific trauma he’s just caused this man, is honestly shocking. Man, I’m sorry, but anyone who sympathizes with Zeke over Levi after this display maybe needs to reevaluate their moral compass, because it’s damned broken. And just as an aside, Zeke’s cowardly fear of Levi is also pretty damned funny. He’s just such a bitch./

We go from this perverse display of psychopathic megalomania into Zeke’s backstory, and again, I’m sorry if I’m gonna offend any Zeke fans here, but to all of that, I ask, so effing what? Oh, boohoo, Zeke’s mommy and daddy didn’t shower him with praise or spend any time playing catch with him, and somehow, I guess, this is meant to excuse his attempts later in life to commit mass genocide. Poor, poor Zeke. Yes, his childhood was sad, he experienced neglect from his parents for two whole years, was used by them as a pawn for their idiotic plans, and ended up disappointing his father when it turned out he had no real talent. And again I ask, so what? This sort of experience isn’t exactly what one would call unique, or even extreme. There are countless children in the world who go through the exact same thing in various forms. Parents who put too much pressure on their kids to succeed, parents who try living vicariously through their children, parents who make their disappointment known and even punish their children for failing to live up to their expectations (something Zeke’s parents never did, by the way). The point is, this isn’t even what one would classify as extreme hardship. It’s a sad story of a child being neglected and not receiving enough love from his parents. This isn’t to undermine the very real pain one experiences from those things. Not at all. That pain is real and legitimate. But it’s also fairly common and pedestrian, as far as childhood trauma is concerned, and it doesn’t even remotely begin to justify the extreme lengths of megalomaniacal, sociopathic, genocidal tendencies he later displays. Also, Zeke also had his grandparents, who did love him and spent lots of time with him. He had Mr. Ksaver, who played with him and acted as a mentor to him. It wasn’t like Zeke had no one and grew up with zero connections. That’s BS.

Levi calls this bitch on his shit later in chapter 114, as Zeke’s muttering away in his delusions about how he’s ��saving everyone”. He asks Zeke “That was your plan? Mercy killings?”. Levi’s asking Zeke here who the hell gave him the right to decide who lives and who dies? Who gave him the right to decide who’s life is WORTH living? When Levi says him getting to die by being eaten by a Titan is pretty merciful, considering he stole the lives of so many of his comrades, Zeke’s reply speaks volumes about just how warped and demented his thinking is, when he says “I stole nothing. I... saved them. Them and the children they would have... I saved them all... from this cruel world.”. He’s literally justifying murdering countless people by trying to redefine that murder as “saving” them. It’s not murder because it saved them from ever having to suffer again! He’s absolving himself here of his sins by casting his actions in not just a favorable light, but trying to sell them as heroic and admirable. He takes no, actual responsibility for what he’s done. He removes himself from that responsibility by pretending he was doing a good thing, an honorable, noble thing, by murdering a whole bunch of people who’d never done jack shit to him. Yippee for Zeke, I guess. He’s the very definition of an ego-maniac, of someone suffering from a messiah complex. He’s insane, and morally depraved. The very fact that he’s the one who comes up with the idea of eradicating the Eldian race by rendering them infertile is only further proof of this. What teenager comes up with a plan to exterminate an entire race of people and thinks it’s a good idea?

Right before he blows himself and Levi up, he screams “I’m hope you’re watching, Mr. Ksaver!”. He’s indulging in his own, fanciful notions of himself as the “chosen one”, as a unique person who alone is capable of delivering humanity to salvation. He’s showing off, asking Mr. Ksaver to watch him as he “saves the world”, because all he cares about, really, is making himself feel special, of fulfilling what he’s deluded himself into believing is his destiny, his right to decide the fate of the world.

And then he almost kills Levi in the process.

I swear, I wish Levi had just chopped his shitty head off right then and there. No one can blame Levi for chopping the bastards legs up like he did, for being so angry. It wasn’t just that Zeke had killed so many of his fellow soldiers by turning them into Titans, or tried to kill Levi by turning them into Titans, it’s also how Zeke laughed about it, and laughed at the pain he’d caused Levi, treating all of it as if it was worth nothing, and then having the unmitigated gall to cast himself as the hero bestowing his benevolent mercy on all. Give me a fucking break.

Fuck you Zeke. I hope you rot in hell, you dumb shit.

Also, fuck you to Floch too. I hate that bastard almost as much.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #zeke yeager #snk 113 #snk 114 #meta #thoughts

72 notes · View notes

cloud9in · 3 years

Text

Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)

Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!

Word Count (2.8k)

Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.

They did end up having that conversation after all.

“…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“

“If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”

Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality.

The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.”

“I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.

“Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”

The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”

He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.

“Hey asshole!”

“That’s for talking too much.”

Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”

Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face.

She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible.

It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.

“Bea.”

“Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”

“Jackson.”

Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.

“You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.”

“I know.”

Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”

“Carter….”

“One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”

He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘

The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.

I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me.

And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.

Patience babe…tomorrow it is.

Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer.

***

“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”

Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.

“That’s the point, princess.”

Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend.

And it definitely felt good to call her that.

“Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”

Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”

“Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.”

Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday.

But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private.

“Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”

“Am I picking the place?”

“…Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless.

“Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”

“Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”

Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”

“I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.”

The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”

***

Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her.

C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.

Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?

Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day.

Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though.

Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?

Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..

You know I always do.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.

Of course Pops.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.

Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always.

Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.

***

“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”

The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”

“In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”

The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu.

Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”

The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”

***

“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”

“It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”

Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea.

Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.

“Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”

The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful.

“Alright lay off the poor sucker.”

Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?”

He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger.

“Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently.

“Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”

Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”

“No.”

Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.

“It’s a setup Bea, duck!”

She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete.

“Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”

A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels.

Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming.

Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.

And why were they kept alive?

***

“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”

“Oh not the middle name…”

Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face.

The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl.

Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”

“What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.

“No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“

“We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”

The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life.

She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop.

“I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“

Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?”

Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case.

“Bea, answer me”

“It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”

“And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves.

Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything.

“Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words.

“Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.”

Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel.

“Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”

The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth.

“No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”

For now.

“I will be okay.”

I hope.

“Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”

“I know Poppy…I-“

“You promised.”

“And I’m going to keep that promise-“

“Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”

Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”

“I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“

“I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”

Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug.

She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.

“Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.”

“I promise.”

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

NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog

#i came up with that middle name on the spot lmaooo #no bug motivation this time just pepsi #poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #mc x poppy

60 notes · View notes

bibliocratic · 4 years

Text

[EXT: the sound of rhythmic, crunching footsteps]

“Martin?”

“Hmm?”

“After all this, after we've – what do you want to do? If we manage to – ”

“When we manage to.”

“Fine, when all this goes back to the way it was, what do you want to do?”

“Hmm. [thoughtful pause, trudging steps] Well, I mean, I think we deserve a holiday.”

“Fancy somewhere sunny? [teasing] You imagine us heading off to the Costa del Sol or something?”

“God, no. For one thing, I burn like that.” [snaps fingers]

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Ten minutes and I'm all gross and sweaty and red as a lobster.”

“Ha. I'd like to see that.”

“Oh, it is painfully unattractive.”

“I'd buy you a sun-hat or something, it'd be fine.”

“[dry] What an improvement. A lobster with a hat.”

“[something suspiciously similar to a giggle.] I suppose. Anyway. You didn't really answer my question.”

“About my bucket list in case we actually survive this [mimicking Jon's accent] 'nightmare hell-scape of ceaseless terror'?”

“Now who's being negative?”

“Fine, fine! I um – Hmmm. Honestly, I quite fancy a bath.”

“[flat, unimpressed] What dreams of luxury.”

“[stubborn] Yeah, yeah, I want a really really big bath.”

“[humouring him] Candles, I suppose?”

“Oh loads.”

“Bath bombs?”

“One of those really strong-smelling ones that make the water a funny colour.”

“Wine?”

“Prefer beer, but I'm not exactly going to be picky after all this. Hm. Maybe I'll bring in a radio, just lie there, listening to music. I've never had a bath, so, guess it'd be nice to see what all the fuss is about.”

“[mock horror] Martin! You've never had a bath? That's disgusting!”

“Ha! Don't make that face! Obviously I've – don't laugh at me! - [clearly grinning] Don't – obviously I've cleaned, you idiot.”

“Not from the smell of you.”

“You are not so rosy yourself, Jonathan.”

“The Apocalypse doesn't exactly allow for as rigorous a grooming ritual as I'd like [Martin makes some sort of noise in solidarity]. … You've never had a bath though, really?”

“[a verbal shrug] Always lived in council flats, they've only ever had those stand-up shower cubicles.”

“Alright then. Alright, first thing, if – when everything goes back to normal, you get to have a massive bath. Too many bubbles, your fingers going all pruney – ”

“[cheeky] You fancy joining me?”

“I don't know what the films have told you, but two grown men trying to fit into a bath is not a comfortable experience.”

“Spoilsport.”

[a warm, steady silence. The walking continues.]

“Watch your foot there, there's a – ”

“I see it, Jon.”

“.... Alright, so bath. Then what?”

“I dunno. Really fancy a Chinese.”

“Martin, come on!”

“What?!”

“What do you want to do? W-with the rest of our lives. When you don't, don't have to work for the Institute, when we can do whatever, go wherever we want?”

“[more seriously] I-I don't know. It's hard to imagine I guess. This world is so, it's so different, so far away from all of that stuff. Not easy to think past it.”

“[makes a sympathetic noise. There's a brief pause].... I'd like a cat.”

“Really?”

“What was that tone for?”

“I mean, Jon, you couldn't keep the plant in your office alive.”

“I could look after a cat!”

“Oh really.”

“You're going to tell me you're more of a dog person, aren't you?”

“I'm not really fussed. Didn't have either when I was younger.”

“[decisive] OK, so we get one of each to be sure.”

“[amused] Sure. Sure, why not. We'll get a tabby cat that scratches up the furnishings and a big dog that pulls you over when you go to take it for a walk, and we'll have a little garden where we can grow wonky vegetables.”

“Now you're getting it.”

“[warming up] And we'll have – we'll have a house, not a flat, a nice two-bedroomed house somewhere up north.”

“[mildly teasing] A whole house, now you're thinking bigger. Four windows and a door?”

“Well, maybe we'll have five windows and two doors, how about that huh.”

“[whistle] We're getting fancy here, Martin. Didn't think they even had windows up north.”

“Oh hahaha. I'll have used some of Peter's credit cards by then, splashed out.”

“You're going to use Peter Lukas' stolen riches to keep us in windows.”

“Exactly. Only the finest.”

“[snort] You're ridiculous.”

“[pleased hum] …. You're fine moving up north then? Thought your body couldn't bear to cross the Watford Gap.”

“I could be tempted. Scotland was – Scotland was nice.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was.”

“I'd like to see more of it. Maybe settle down there, after all this is over.”

“[another pause] What about you, Jon? Your grand plans for the future?”

“Honestly? I just want us both to survive this.”

“Oh, come on!”

“What?!”

“That's literally the lowest possible bar for success, you can't choose that!”

“Well, I am!”

“And you gave me grief for choosing a bath and a nice holiday!”

“[laughing] All right – all right!.... [pause] It really is mostly that though. I haven't really been able to think about the future for – for a long time..... I'd like.... I think I'd like to go somewhere quiet. Leave it all behind, the Institute, the fears, all of it. Go somewhere and settle down, just the two of us. Asides from that... I don't want anything else. Anything extra would all be a bonus, really.”

“[endeared, soft] You are such a secret romantic.”

“Huh. Not much of a secret any more.”

“I won't tell anyone. [a long exhale] That's... that sounds really nice, Jon. That's what happy endings look like.”

“Going off into the sunset?”

“Yeah. It's a nice dream to have.”

“Think we'll get it?”

“I hope so. I really do.”

[a drop into silence again. The plodding scrape of footsteps continue]

#tma #long post #fic #the magnus archive #jonmartin #fluff #dialogue fic #GIVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING #martin blackwood #jonathan sims

2K notes · View notes

fishfingersandjellybabies · 3 years

Text

I Wonder What It’s Like (3/3) - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, some Maya and Kathy Pairing: jondami Summary: One person’s bad timing is another person’s good timing. A/N: And *mumble mumble* they live happily ever after. Damian was already curious because the way Jon was holding him in the rescue was the way Clark holds lois in similar situations and ONLY Lois. It was just a giant ‘oh fuck it’s reciprocated.’ moment I guess, so he egged it on.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

It was an alien invasion. Of course it was.

All hands on deck. Justice League, the Titans, and their Teen variety, Young Justice. Even some less desirables like the Outlaws, Suicide Squad, Deathstroke and, well, their own little ragtag group.

And it was a weird time to be thinking about it, you know, punching out aliens and their robot pets over the city harbor and all, that their little foursome didn’t have a name. Didn’t go by anything. They weren’t League and they weren’t Outlaws. They weren’t really…anything. The ace in the hole? The backup?

He didn’t like any of those-

“Focus, Superboy.” Crackled in his ear. He glanced down to the nearby skyscraper. Saw Damian and Maya fighting back-to-back. Felt himself smile. Kicking ass and taking names – that was so them.

It was Damian who had spoken. Damian, who wasn’t even looking at him. Too busy flipping over Maya’s shoulder as they switched opponents.

Jon blinked a few times, then looked back at his own enemy, clutched tightly in his fist, shrieking to the machine that Kathy was taking out a few feet away from him.

“How’d you know I wasn’t?” Jon mumbled, throwing his rock-monster-looking alien towards the ground.

“Because we know you.” Maya chimed in. “And you float when you zone out. Notice how high you are right now?”

Kathy laughed as Jon sheepishly floated back down to where she was. “What were you thinking ‘bout?”

“…We don’t have a team name.” Jon practically pouted. “We’re just…the Other Ones.”

“And that’s a problem?” Damian snorted. “The less who know about us, the better, in my opinion.”

“Oh, right, and your opinion is never wrong.” Maya droned. A moment later she let out a shout, and Jon glanced down to see that Damian had thrown an unconscious and oozing alien right at her. “Okay, no need to be childish, you little worm!”

Damian cackled at her annoyance, and Jon ignored the flutter in his stomach.

“And there was no need for you to open your mouth at all, yet here we are, Nobody.” Damian sneered. Maya let out a string of curses, and Jon watched her throw a body in Damian’s direction. Damian dodged it, and then spoke again, but softer this time, aimed at him. “…Were you just lamenting the fact, or coming up with names yourself?”

“Mmm, both? Neither?” Jon shrugged, shooting himself across the sky to intercept an alien heading straight for a group of fleeing civilians. “I just thought it was odd.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but I agree with Damian.” Kathy said, making a retching noise right after. Maya laughed through the comms. Damian scoffed. “I like it how it is right now, you know? People call us when they need us, and we get to be normal people otherwise. It’s like being a hero part-time, and honestly, after our childhoods? I think the four of us deserve the break.”

“Freelance heroes.” Maya echoed. “I mean, I don’t think actually having a name or title associated with us would change anything, but I suppose I get the general principle.”

“I just mean, like…what if we’re interviewed by the news? Or some little kid asks who we are?” Jon pushed. An alien came flying towards him. He caught it like a baseball, spun, and threw it back from where it came. “The day is saved thanks to…who? Justice League Jr.? The Ghosts? The Powerpuff Girls? Like, what’s our backup?”

“I think concerned citizens would suffice in most situations.” Damian drawled.

“Concerned and capable, that’s us.” Maya mocked.

Kathy laughed at the joke, and Jon just rolled his eyes. He turned towards the water, seeing a new hoard of aliens and their robots coming their way. He sighed – when would this end?

Suddenly, there was a sharp static crack in his ear. In his periphery, he saw Kathy flinch at the noise too. Their communicators, then.

But before either of them could open their mouths to ask, Maya gave a shriek.

“Fuck!” She screamed. Jon and Kathy spun back towards the building their teammates had been on. The rooftop was no longer swarmed with aliens. In fact, the aliens were all scattered and flailing, like they were turtles knocked on their backs.

Jon’s stomach dropped as his mind processed what else was wrong. Maya and Damian were gone.

“Damian!” Maya shouted. Jon saw movement below the roof, glanced down to see Maya scrambling to her feet on the fire escape, pointing straight up into the sky. “Guys, he grabbed Damian!”

Jon’s eye followed her finger, and sure enough, speeding above even his head, one of these rock creatures – but bigger, more reptilian – was flying full speed towards the stratosphere, Damian hanging from his clawed hand by his ankle.

Damian, of course, wasn’t fazed in the slightest. Already had a knife in hand, and was stabbing at his captor’s grip.

Jon’s heart pounded, and he found himself glancing over at Kathy. She nodded, gave him a grim smile.

“Go get him.”

Jon needed nothing else, and felt the sonic boom snap behind him as he took off after the reptile man.

“Does he always break the sound barrier when he takes off?” Maya’s voice buzzed through his communicator. She was most likely talking to Kathy. He paid it no mind. “Or is that just another one of those Damian things…”

But because Damian was, well, Damian, he couldn’t leave well enough alone and kept stabbing at the monster’s fingers. And even as Jon sped towards them, he could see the creature getting frustrated, questioning how worth it it was to have Damian as a captive.

Without warning, he decided that, apparently, it wasn’t worth it at all.

So he dropped him.

Panic electrified Jon’s system, and his breath came up short as he twisted his course to follow a now-plummeting Damian.

What if he wasn’t fast enough? What if he didn’t catch him? What if the alien came back?

What if Damian died? Right here? Right in front of him?

“I’m coming!” Jon found himself shouting, both for himself and for Damian. In freefall, he saw Damian look towards him. “I’m coming, D!”

And as he got closer, flying as fast as he could, he saw Damian believe it, believe in him, and slowly, steadily, reach his hand out.

Jon was almost there. Jon almost had him.

But god, the buildings below them were already so close.

His heart was on fire, the wind in his face was causing his eyes to tear up. But he was close, he was so close-

(And the jagged corner of that skyscraper was even closer.)

-so he reached his own hand out, brushed his fingertips against Damian’s. Watched Damian watch their hands. Watched all fear drain from Damian’s face, turn into blind trust.

Then grabbed his forearm and yanked him into his chest. Held the back of Damian’s head as he spun them, so it was his back that bounced into the corner of the building’s roof, and not Damian’s skull.

The momentum kept them bouncing. Off that first building into another, into a fire escape, into a broken window, into brick, against a dumpster. And all the while, Jon kept tight hold of Damian, kept him curled into his chest, hidden by his cape.

Anything to keep him safe. And alive.

They landed in a heap in the alleyway, Jon’s back against the dirty ground, and Damian spread on top of him. Jon let out a small groan as Damian scrambled up and backed off of him.

“I hate falling. It’s my least favorite part of flying.” He mumbled, sitting up himself. He rubbed at the base of his spine as he glanced up. “You okay?”

“Am I…?” Damian scoffed, holding out his hand. Jon took it, and let Damian swing him up into his space. “You’re really asking me? You’re the one who just crash landed.”

“Being Kryptonian helps with that.” Jon winked. “Besides, you were the one who was just almost kidnapped, and then almost splattered on the pavement. I think it’s a valid question.”

Damian scoffed and crossed his arms, glancing away. “I’m fine…Thank you.”

“Any time.” Jon grinned. But almost instantly, he let the smile drop. Furrowed his brows and, without thinking, reached out, cupping his hand along Damian’s jaw and turning his head. “Hey, what’s…”

He’d seen blood, he thought, coming from Damian’s hairline. Was it from the previous fight, or their fall? Jeez, if it was from their fall, Jon wasn’t sure if he could handle…

But no, it was just dirt. Grime from being in battle all day with no breaks. His bad. He went to smile once more, but found himself hesitating as he glanced towards Damian’s face, and found Damian staring at him with wide eyes. Wide, too knowing, too soulful, too hopeful, too green eyes.

He felt his own heart beating against his chest. Especially as he remembered just how close they were standing. Damian had pulled him up into his chest, and Jon had never backed up.

And Damian never asked him to.

Suddenly, he found himself unable to let go of Damian’s face. Kept his hand glued to the curve of his throat, Damian’s own heartbeat pulsing against his fingers. Swallowed, and could have sworn the whole city heard it.

“Damian, I…”

But Damian cut him off with a simple, blunt demand. “Kiss me.”

Jon stumbled over the noises suddenly coming out of his mouth. Not words, not even thoughts. His attempts at speaking coming out like television static instead.

“Wha…what?”

“You heard me.” Damian said lowly, and Jon could feel the cheek under his hand heating up in the start of a blush. “And you know I don’t repeat myself.”

“You…I…this…” There was a crash a few streets over and Jon flinched. Instinctively shifted even closer into Damian’s space to box him in against the wall, to protect him. Just in case.

He never dropped his hand.

A second later, he realized his movement, and glanced down. Damian was still watching him with those sharp jade detective eyes. The ones Jon could stare into forever, if given the chance. The ones he could see the universe in, that were brighter than any star in the sky.

God, Damian could always see right through him.

“…I don’t think now’s the best time.” Jon whispered, almost desperately. Damian smirked.

“Timing and invasions and life-or-death danger has never stopped your mother and father. Hell, that never stopped my parents either. I’m pretty sure I was conceived in the middle of an assassination plot. On both of them.” A pause, to think, to bite at his lip. “But you didn’t say no.” Damian breathed softly. “Bad timing is not a no.”

“Well, of course not.” Jon rambled – admitted – as he looked off to the side, towards the invasion still happening all around them. Looked at anything but Damian. “But, we have to save the city. The attack is still going, and these aliens-”

Suddenly, there were fists in the front of his cape, and he was being yanked down, lips crashing into his.

Damian tasted better than Jon could ever dream, ever fantasized all those nights alone in his room. There was no distinct taste, but rather…he tasted like the donut Maya had forced him to have for breakfast that morning. The black coffee he’d drank with it.

He tasted like blood and chapped lips, with a fading hint of the cheap chapstick he used because it was a gift from a little girl they’d rescued a few months ago.

He tasted like insecurities and heartbreak. He tasted like a man who had never been sure of anything in his life until this moment, this action.

And Jon wanted to devour him. Jon knew he had to devour him.

Consciously this time, he raised his other hand, held Damian’s face as tenderly as he could. Felt his breath hitch as Damian skimmed his hands down Jon’s chest to grab at his waist.

It felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for this.

Damian seemed to almost melt against him, and when he leaned back those few centimeters to take a breath, Jon guided him backwards, until his spine pressed against the building’s brick wall.

“Jonathan…”

But Jon pushed against him, swallowed his voice. He couldn’t help but smirk, just a little. Damian may have started this, but he had no problem taking control.

And his heart stuttered at the thought that Damian was letting him.

But then, of course – of course – there was a explosion from the building behind them. They broke apart as Damian ducked slightly, and Jon once more hovered over him protectively.

Debris collapsed loudly around them, a sharp rod of steel bouncing off Jon’s back at one point. But as soon as it began to settle, their comms. crackled to life with their allies, friends and fathers calling for them, asking for their locations and statuses. Roars of the aliens echoed all around them.

Damian sighed.

“I suppose…you were correct.” He grumbled as he stood back to full height, looking up towards the clouds.

“About?”

“Now probably wasn’t the best time for...” He whined, waving his hand awkwardly between them. He put his hands on Jon’s chest again, but this time to push him gently back and step back into the street. “There’s an alien invasion to stop.”

Jon watched him for a moment. “…Damian?” Damian glanced over his shoulder. “Are we going to talk about this later?”

Damian blinked, then smiled. But not a hero smile. Not a Robin or Nightwing or Batman smile. A Damian smile. Warm and genuine and just the slightest bit mischievous.

“What’s there to talk about, Beloved?” Damian asked, leaning back and taking Jon’s hand, pulling him forward. “Now come on, there’s a world to save.”

#jondami #jon kent #Damian Wayne

54 notes · View notes