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free-for-all-fics · 4 months

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Here’s my first Oldies but Goodies Crossover Prompt! Main pairing is Captain Louis Renault x Reader, but there are some other Claude Rains characters that appear. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🥘💚🍲

Rick Blaine is the owner of Rick’s Café Américain, an expensive and chic nightclub which possesses an air of intrigue. It’s the most popular joint in Casablanca, even more popular than The Blue Parrot, one of its competitors. Everybody comes to Rick’s. As such, Rick Blaine is a very busy man. Both his days and his nights are sacrosanct. Time is money, and his time is of the utmost value. He’s not an easy man to impress and is very peculiar about who he hires. Everyone under his employ must know how to multitask, think on their feet, and work under stress. They must come into work without the assumption that it’ll slow down or die off eventually. No matter how busy a workday gets, it can always get busier, even as it gets very late into the night and turns into the early hours of the morning. Employees must be able to single-handedly manage all the needs and demands of their jobs, including the wide variety of customers, all of whom are unique characters with their own specialized set of needs, wants, and demands. They must do all of this without the expectation of being able to rely on others to help or pick up the slack. That’s a luxury, not a right. He must be able to run a tight ship to keep his establishment afloat, or else he’d sink from bankruptcy. If his employees take care of him, Rick will take care of them in return.

Which is why he almost lost it when his newest cook that he just spent two weeks training quit without warning or notice. Apparently she got lucky and bought an exit visa from Signor Ferrari. She was leaving on the next plane to Lisbon to pursue her career as an aspiring playwright or actress or whatever nonsense opportunity there supposedly was in America. Rick didn’t listen or care to know. He needed to find someone to replace her and quickly. Except Rick couldn’t seem to find a single woman in town that was willing to leave the house or work long hours pouring over a hot stove. Most of them were married, with husbands that wouldn’t allow it. As he crossed off names and the list of applicants dwindled down, he began to get nervous that he’d never find anyone suitable for the job…

…until you walk through his door. You’ve been living frugally for many months but, even though you’ve been saving and spending your money wisely, pretty soon you’re running extremely low. To keep a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in your stomach, you go to Rick’s Café Américain to apply for a job. Upon entering, your senses are assaulted and almost overwhelmed. The lights are bright and there’s a heavy scent of smoke wafting through the air that nearly makes you cough. A middle-aged black man sits on a stool before a small salmon-colored piano on wheels, playing and singing while accompanied by a small orchestra. They’re going through warmups before opening to the public. You’re greeted by a fat, jovial German man with spectacles. He appears to be getting trays and glasses ready.

"Good morning."

"Morning, miss. What can I do for you?"

"I'm here about the cook position that’s open in the kitchen. I’m supposed to meet with Rick Blaine at 7:00."

The man pulls out his pocket watch to look down at the time and back up at you. "You're early. We’re not quite ready to open.”

"My father used to say that if you're right on time, then you're late."

“Respectful and self-conscious of others’ time. Rick will like that. Come with me.” He introduces himself to you as Carl, the waiter. He shows you to an empty table and has you sit down. "Have a seat, I'll let him know you're here and he’ll be with you shortly.”

"Thank you." You smile at him and sit where he tells you to and wait. You watch as Carl, dinner tray in hand, goes up the stairs and knocks on a private door. It opens and he speaks to someone on the other side who you cannot see. He comes back down a few minutes later, followed by a man in a fine suit. He sits down across from you and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it. Carl leaves the two of you alone.

“Here to be the new cook?” Rick asks as he looks at you, blowing out a puff of smoke as he leans back in his chair to get a good look at you.

"Yes, sir."

Rick clears his throat and sits straighter in his chair. "I was told that you had culinary experience?"

You nod. "That's right."

"Can you manage multiple incoming orders at the same time? Can you manage a kitchen full of people?”

"Yes."

"How do you feel about long hours?" He crosses his arms over his chest.

"I don't mind."

You smile again and Rick almost has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling too. You seem like a promising applicant. During the rest of the interview, you’re able to maintain eye contact and answer all of his questions, no matter how difficult. You carry yourself in such a way that demonstrates you’re prepared and respect his time. You have all the skills he’s looking for in an employee. But now comes the question that will determine whether he’ll hire you or not.

"Your boyfriend is okay with you working?" He furrows his brows. "Last thing I need is a man walking in here and causing disturbances in my place, all because he believes his woman has neglected or jilted him.”

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Husband then."

"Don't have one of those either."

"Well, you're not missing out on anything. I promise you. Can you start today? Right now?"

"I'd love to."

"Great. You're hired.”

You examine the incoming ingredients. Damn suppliers, always trying to get one over on Rick. You turn the aubergines in your hands to look for the sallow brown spots, tossing your rejects into a separate bin with a grunt. Then you pick up the basil and look at each leaf like an art appraiser, taking in the minutia of the details, sniffing a ripped leaf before chewing it. The truck driver scratches at his stubbled jowls and checks his wristwatch for the fifth time in two minutes. You continue, no faster, no slower. As far as you’re concerned, he can check the time a hundred times in his indiscreet way, huffing and puffing like the nuisance he is. Timetables are inconsequential to Rick unless it affects his opening and closing times or wastes the time of his staff when they’re on the clock. Your boss will only accept ingredients that are of the utmost quality.

And what this man has brought you looks like picked over scraps more suitable to feed to the stray dogs you’ve seen wandering around than for human consumption in a fine establishment. After you’re done taking what’s usable, you warn the truck driver in no uncertain terms that the next time he comes to make a drop off, he better bring you what you ask for and not attempt to cut corners like this again. If all he has is food he wouldn’t dare feed his own wife and children, then he shouldn’t show up at all. You won’t tolerate him wasting your time. If he dares to insult you in such a manner again, he and his bosses will have to deal with Rick directly. You tell him to trust you when you say that he doesn’t want that to happen. An insult to any employee of Rick’s is an insult to the man himself.

You pick up the chopping knife and cut the vegetables into perfect matchsticks in the time it takes most people just to peel the carrots. Every motion is precise from intense repetition and you pride yourself on the machine-like perfection of your shapes. Everything is even, uniform, perfect. You look over at the sous chef and scowl. So slow! So inept! You’d been born faster than that! Your eyes narrow as she applies the seasoning and your mouth tightens to a thin straight line. “Too much, too much!”

As Prefect of Police in Casablanca, Captain Louis Renault knows everyone. And everyone knows everyone. He puts everyone at ease, draws them into liking him and wanting him to like them. There's a familiarity amongst both locals and tourists which forces him to put on a facade of efficiency within his administration. If he wants his fellow officers and the rest of the populace in Casablanca to listen to him and respect his authority when he gives orders, he has to round up twice the usual number of suspects and make out reports that reflect said efficiency. If he doesn’t take these measures, it’ll be absolute chaos in the streets and any violations of neutrality in Casablanca will reflect on him. Or so he claims. But you’ll sooner shoot Captain Renault than trust him, because you know the truth.

He’s a handsome, middle-aged Frenchman, debonair and gay, but withal a shrewd and alert official who’s embraced the corruption and vice that comes with his police uniform. He agrees to do whatever will impress his Nazi superiors and help maintain his cushy position of power. He’s perfectly fine with his normally extremely controversial behavior of opportunism, but only out of self-interest. He has no conviction. He often blows with the wind and the prevailing wind happens to be from Vichy. He has no qualms about who his actions hurt in the process. To him, they’re circumstantial collateral for what he considers a necessary evil. Captain Renault is a tough man to please, both at work and in life. He’s very peculiar not only with the way he runs things in the Palais de Justice, but with women too. He may call himself a romantic who gets by on charm and charm alone but, to you, he’s a rake, an indomitable playboy, a scamp, and so on. He’s a hedonist who’s gone through women faster than cigarettes and only ever seems to care about nothing and no one but himself.

While lower ranking officers deliver critical documents that they need him to sign off on, men and women desperate enough for an exit visa swallow their pride. They try to sweet talk him with praise and admiration. An honest man would feel bad, they'd be terrible at his job, but he loves it. It’s a thrill for him to listen as they gush about what a great man he is, only to have to act apologetic when he says his hands are tied and he can’t provide them an exit visa. No matter how much he wants to help, he just can’t. Compliments don’t pay the bills. They only serve to stroke his ego. While he does take great pleasure from that, there’s something else he’d rather have stroked by such beautiful women. His price can only be paid one of two ways: Monetary compensation or sexual favors.

And indeed, many beautiful women with very little pocket money have come to him in hopes of obtaining an exit visa. He’s taken out countless breathtaking blondes and brunettes for dates at Rick’s while they grin and hang on his every word, willing to do anything for him in exchange for an exit visa, regardless of their marital status. No one is indispensable to him and everyone in his life fulfills a purpose. In the years he’s worked for Vichy, you’ve never seen a genuine emotion from him other than greed. You pity him just as much as you do his victims. He knows the importance of give and take, but other people are simply pawns to him. He always keeps his word and fulfills his end of the bargain by procuring the exit visas, but it’s not just money or sex he’s taking from these women. It’s their bodies, their pride, and other precious things they hold dear. Once his price has been paid one way or the other and he’s filled out the exit visas, all the promises he might’ve made while engaged in the throes of passion die on the wind that he blows with, the very same wind that dries the ink on his signature. He gets everything he wants as an officer, everything he needs.

You know that Captain Renault and Rick have some sort of mutual agreement or understanding that involves Rick paying him in bribes so that he’ll turn a blind eye and look the other way, permitting Rick’s establishment to remain open while illegal gambling and other underhanded dealings are taking place. You sometimes notice Emil handing him roulette winnings when you walk into work. You thought nothing of it at first, but you eventually caught on to what was really happening. No man could ever be as lucky as Captain Renault is, unless the games were fixed in his favor. No wonder Rick bought this place for a song. But it isn’t your place to speak up or complain about it. Even if you do, who’ll believe you? It’s not always honest work, but it’s work. As long as he signs your paychecks, what Rick decides to do with his money is his own business.

There’s much activity at the various tables and far worse things occurring, such as black market dealings, human trafficking, and sexual extortion, which seems to run rampant due to the corrupt officials who participate in such shady activities. All about you there’s the hum of voices, chatter and laughter. The occupants of the saloon are varied. There are Europeans in their dinner jackets, their women beautifully begowned and bejeweled. There are Moroccans in silk robes. Turks wearing fezzes. Levantines. Naval officers. Members of the Foreign Legion, distinguished by their kepis. And your least favorite of all, the Germans who are loyal to the Nazi Party. Everybody comes to Rick’s.

Everyone seated at the table looks at the dishes that have been prepared upon Rick’s request. Many of the dishes are unfamiliar to Major Strasser and Herr Heinz, but Rick’s place doesn’t provide free food samples. Carl gives them recommendations, and they have very little reason not to trust the opinion of a fellow German. The first time Captain Renault sets eyes on you is when Major Strasser wants to summon you in front of his comrades so he can thank you in person for the fine meal they just enjoyed after the appetizers and main course is over.

“Why don't you send for her? Bring her here so we can thank her ourselves.”

“I'm sure she's too busy.”

“I doubt she's too busy to answer a summons from you.”

“I don't want to embarrass her. Carl?”

“This is the busiest time of the kitchen staff’s day, sir. Er, maybe it'd be better...”

“No. Fetch her.“

“Very good, sir.”

And then you come from the back, pink in the face, your hair pasted to your forehead with either steam or sweat. You’re child-like in your demeanor but clearly an adult. You smile in the way inconvenienced people do. It’s likely you have orders to fill and now some big customer wants to speak to you in person. While you smile at the suited men, your fingers are being crushed in the rhythmic grip of your other hand. You look like a woman who’s done all but given up on life. Your once white uniform is stained and your hair greasy. Your eyes have a strange sunken look and are threaded with scarlet so densely that they appear pink. Your cheeks glow under broken veins, your actions are slow, clumsy.

Even though you’re a total mess, Captain Renault thinks you’re beautiful. He barely focuses on anything the men seated next to him are saying, too busy watching your every movement, listening to your every word. He wants to commit everything about you to memory. The way you pick at your fingernails, the way you sweep stray hairs behind your ear, the way you maintain eye contact and speak of your work with pride even when you’re flushed and out of breath.

“ls something wrong with the dinner, boss?”

“Not at all. No, we apologize for interfering with your duties in this strange and inconsiderate way. Major Strasser and Herr Heinz here just want to thank you for tonight’s meal.”

“Before we left Germany, we hadn’t had much opportunity to try foreign delicacies. We were a little apprehensive at first since most items on your menu were unfamiliar to us, but your waiter gave us some recommendations and we trusted his word. We’re glad we did. This was one of the finest meals we ever had outside of Berlin. Very well done, miss.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you fine gentlemen enjoyed it. Mr. Blaine was kind enough to give me this opportunity. He’s opened my eyes to a world of knowledge I knew nothing of. Maybe I'll stay a cook all my life, but I have choices now. Interests, facts at my fingertips. And I'd never have had any of that if I hadn't come to Casablanca.”

“Well said. Quite a testimonial.”

“May I go, boss? Only I’ve still got the dessert and the savories.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

You make a small awkward bow and retreat, the smile vanishing from your diminutive features and your pace stretched out wider than what looks comfortable.

Ever since that day, Captain Renault has requested that a special table at Rick’s is kept reserved for him, one that allows him the best view of the kitchen. He loves to watch you through the kitchen window. You’re an artist of food. He sees your great mind so immersed in every sense, using that expansive intelligence you call intuition. He sees the love you have for this way of giving to others, this deep avenue for self expression. Here in the kitchen you’re at one with all this, the food, the spices, the flames, and a feeling of music even when none plays. He would sit here all day just to watch you, to feel your smiles and those facial expressions that are the hallmark of a genius at work more than see them. As a chef, you see brilliance in food, a potential to help and heal others, a way to show them how the sublime is simply a mixture of the ordinary. It’s your genius at play, seeing what the rest of them don’t. He’ll even make small talk when he can, usually when you ring the bell to alert Carl an order is ready to go out.

You’ve noticed something else that’s strange about Captain Renault. Every time he comes here, he seems to get free drinks. But you’ve never once seen him eat anything after that first night. No matter how long he stays, no matter who’s seated with him at the table, no plate is ever set in front of him. Only the occasional glass for any alcohol of his choosing. Why doesn’t he ever get himself something to eat at Rick’s? In his own words, as the Perfect of Police, he’s constantly busy and often doesn’t have time to take care of himself. It’s not unusual for him to get home late from a long day at the office and fail to do basic things like eat something or take a shower. He either forgets or just puts it off until the morning when he wakes up and gets ready for the day.

But he doesn’t always realize that eating something that would qualify as a snack instead of a meal quickly in the morning and warming up leftovers in the evening isn’t enough. He takes a lot of time training his secretaries because they need to be the grease to keep the wheels turning while he demonstrates the efficiency of his administration to his superiors by arresting twice the number of usual suspects. They need to be on the same page so that the monotony of filling out paperwork can be done as soon as possible. Not because he wants to take credit for all the work that’s done, but to make sure that the work that's put out is always believable and plausible, whether or not the reports made out are false or not. Training someone takes a lot of time, energy and money, none of which he has.

Over time, you find yourself wanting to take care of him. You don’t like how he keeps odd hours and hardly eats anything. And when he does eat, he has the cheapest meal on the menu, usually the same soup night after night, week after week. So you cook him better, more savory meals using whatever’s leftover in the restaurant and still fresh enough. There’s a roast chicken in the pantry and a previously made broth you found on the stove, so you make do with what you have. You make him another soup, but one that’s full of cooked meat and vegetables. You store it in a thermos and pack it in a bag. Sitting beside it in a Tupperware container is a chicken sandwich. You’re unsure if he even drinks coffee, but still make him a cup with sugar cubes and cream on the side in case he wants to add either.

You bring it to him personally while he’s in his office, and he devours the whole thing in seconds. Quickly setting the soup aside, he picks up the sandwich and savors the taste of the chicken, bread and mustard as it all comes together inside his mouth. When that’s finished, he happily over-sugars his coffee and drinks it down, feeling contently full for the first time in years. You worry he’ll get a stomach ache and make himself sick from eating so fast, but you’re glad he enjoyed it. It seems he doesn’t eat a great deal, and that worries you. Even though he doesn’t take his job all that seriously and doesn’t work very hard, he’s still human and should be eating and sleeping well. To work in the kitchens is to work for the love and nourishment of others, to give of yourself, to put your soul into the food. He’s very grateful to you.

Every Monday and Friday morning you come in early with a basket of freshly made baked goods that you leave in the break room for everyone to enjoy with their coffee. You always separate them into two batches, one for the night shift who are about to leave and one for the day shift who are starting their day. Needless to say both shifts appreciate having a little something to either start or finish their day on a good note. You make him and his fellow gendarmes all so happy, and food does that, right? It feeds the soul, brings smiles and bonds, makes everything so much better. Even if you think you're being subtle, everyone knows that every week you have a little something special for Louis whenever you bring him homemade lunches. He doesn't have the time nor the energy to cook for himself and by bringing him his lunch he doesn't have to eat at Rick’s. He pretends like it's not a big deal but you can see a difference in his mood and confidence. There's a twinkle in his eyes that didn't used to be there and you hope he never loses it again. You've heard him make comments here and there about his shape and the way he looks. You think he’s perfect the way that he is, and you know that he’s only teasing and not being self-deprecating.

"Sweetheart, you need to stop bringing me food or else my trousers will cease to fit.” He looks at you as you walk into his office with a very familiar brown paper bag in your hand.

"Are you going to start bringing yourself food?" You arch a brow, knowing the answer before he even says it.

“You know I don't have the time."

"Then I won't stop bringing you food." You put the paper bag on his desk. He shakes his head and tries to give it back but you don't take it. "Just say thank you, Captain."

He sighs and gives up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You smile brightly at him.

“I fucking love you, babe.”

“Of course you do.”

“Any chance?”

You flick out your tongue from the side and curl it upwards, as if you’re thinking about it. You place your hand to palm him through his uniform pants. You give him a quick squeeze before walking backwards. “No, you can wait. I've got a red-hot Russki with her finger on the trigger if I don’t get her lunch order in. Sacha is talking her down by distracting her with drinks and conversation so I could get away just long enough to hand you your lunch. But now I gotta go deal with it.”

“I don't mind the two of you.” He grabs your arms and pulls you back into his embrace.

“Go on, fuck off!” You put your entire hand over his face and push him away. You blow him a kiss before leaving his office.

It's the same fight every week and you win every week. He scares some of the locals and tourists, gruff and intimidating on the exterior, but he’s softer towards you. He insists that you move in with him, wanting privacy with you so he can indulge in showing you just how much he cares for you, but you politely decline. You like having your own space and he respects that, so you come up with a compromise instead where he’ll come over to your place certain days of the week and you’ll come over to his place on the other days. Rick has noticed how close you and Louis have become and he's not sure how he feels about it. He's known you for months now, so he recognizes the look in your eyes whenever Louis is around. You like Louis and there's no denying it. He makes you laugh and he's always sweet to you. You've become close friends and it's not rare for people to see you out and about with him.

It isn’t long before people start whispering about the two of you. It starts when they notice you eating lunch together every day and it only gets worse when word gets around that you’re officially dating. You do your best to ignore the lingering looks or the not so discreet whispering wherever you go. Louis tells you it’s just jealousy or, more likely, resentment and hatred towards him for how he treated women in the past. He’s a changed man now, but they don’t know that. They can gossip all they want. Neither of you care. Your friendship is more important than the opinion of the bored housewives of Casablanca.

You’re working late, which isn’t unusual for either of you. Your jobs make it sometimes difficult to spend time together. There are times when he'll work all day until it’s well past midnight and the early hours of the next day have arrived, without having a second to sit down. Other times he'll work until the middle of the night and, on some occasions, it’s both. It’s the same for you. Usually whoever gets home first just lets themself in and makes themself comfortable, or goes straight to bed if they’re so exhausted that they can’t keep their eyes open. Tonight is no different, as you tell Louis he can just let himself into your place with the spare key and make himself at home until you get off of work since he’ll probably finish his shift before you. You tell him not to wait up, and he teasingly tells you that he’ll wait up if he wants to.

In your apartment he pulls out a cookbook that he purchased. He stands at your kitchen counter and starts flipping through it. He doesn’t look up as he keeps turning the pages and frowns as his eyes move across the page with the recipe he decided on. He had gone out to buy some alcohol and cigarettes, and found this book in the Arab market. It had been an impulse to buy the thin leather bound volume. You both agreed that he should leave the grocery shopping to you since you’re the expert in that regard. You always know what to look for to determine if something such as bushels of potatoes are of good quality and how to bargain for a fair price.

You’re a wonderful cook. Always making hearty and filling meals that taste delicious. It’s hard to eat food from the Blue Parrot or his own god awful attempts at eggs and toast after being spoiled by the food you offer. Captain Louis Renault is a man of many skills and talents, but he isn’t well-learned in the arts of the kitchen. Before you came into his life, he didn't do much more than toast cheese over bread and add a slice of already cooked meat to it since he’s just a poor, corrupt official and couldn’t afford much else. There may or may not have been past incidents where he accidentally started small fires, making him apprehensive about using the oven. But he tried. And he wants to try again. He wants to do something for you. Something that in some way will thank you for all of those past meals. Something that requires more time and effort than just eggs and toast.

He isn’t sure where you keep your ingredients, so he opens almost every cabinet in his search of what he needs. As he rummages through your pantry, he finds something hidden in the very far back of the shelf. Arsenic, cyanide, strychnine. Poisons of varying levels of toxicity. He starts to panic internally as he thinks back to all the lunches and dinners you made for him in the past. He wonders if you had put any of these poisons in his food. But you couldn’t have. He never once felt ill nor did any of his gendarmes. But why are these here? If neither he nor they are your intended target, who is? You don’t plan on committing suicide, do you? You seemed so happy in all the time he’s known you, but now he’s doubting his own perception of the past. If the demands of the culinary job at Rick’s is getting to be too much for you to handle or you’re plagued by invasive thoughts that are making you miserable, you would tell him. You wouldn’t keep these bad things close to your heart, locked away so he couldn’t see, just for his sake. Or would you? He’s not so sure anymore.

It won’t do him any good to get all worked up about it now. For his own peace of mind, he decides to focus on the task at hand. Before he assumes the worst and literally worries himself sick, he’ll bide his time and let you decompress from your long shift at work. He’ll ask you about his discovery after dinner. Once the timer goes off, Louis stands back and displays a grumpy look, muttering to himself as he admires his work. The meal he prepared looks okay, but still he worries that you won’t like it. He hates this. Never before has he worried about pleasing or impressing a woman outside of the bedroom. But now he’s afraid that you won’t care for his efforts, or worse, he’ll fail horribly. He sets the table as he waits for you. He keeps the food warm on the stove until you finally come driving up the road. Your smile when you see him makes his heart thump wildly in his chest. His expression doesn’t give away his nervousness, but his fingers twitch against his thigh as he resists the urge to meet you halfway.

"What's this?" You ask, curiosity sparkling in your eyes as you notice the crockpot on the oven and the casserole pan on the kitchen counter.

Louis’ eyes slide over to the still warm dishes before muttering his reply, “I made dinner."

"Really?" The surprise in your voice makes him tick nervously.

"Yes. You’ve been working so hard at Rick’s and have always made meals for me and my gendarmes at work, as well as for us when we’re both home, so I wanted to try my hand at cooking something for you instead. To show that…that I love you.”

You set your purse down and walk up to him, but he’s not looking at you. Your arms slide between his and go around his back. "Thank you, Louis. I know you’ve been very busy lately too, so I appreciate you doing this for me. I really do. I love you, too.”

He rolls his eyes and begrudgingly puts his arms around you. "It's probably going to be vile,” he warns. Your laugh makes his stomach flutter, filling him with a sense of lightheartedness.

"That's okay," you assure him, giving him a quick kiss. "I’m proud of you for making an effort and doing this all by yourself. It was so thoughtful of you, darling. You know how they say it’s the thought that counts. And you didn’t set the kitchen on fire, so you’ve already exceeded my expectations,” you tease as you kiss him again.

You’re all soft smiles and loving eyes at him throughout the course of the dinner as you tell him about your day.

“When I got off of work, I pushed the door open and walked outside. Unfortunately I could see a group of women, wives and mothers, all gathered around and gossiping like they always do. I could feel their stares on me, making me feel uneasy. I ignored them. I could tell they were talking about us. I had to walk past them to get home.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, as if to shake off your nerves. “I was almost out of earshot when I heard them say my name and laugh. I stopped walking and huffed, annoyed. I slowly turned around and looked at them. 'Anything I can help you with, Mrs. Mayhew?’ I said as politely as I could. Usually that makes them lose all their courage and fold immediately, not wanting a confrontation, especially so late at night. Not tonight though. Apparently whatever alcohol was in their systems was making all of them feel brave enough to be catty. ‘Aren't you even a little bit ashamed of yourself?’ Mrs. Mayhew said, her voice laced with an accusatory tone. Her question surprised me. Ashamed of myself? Why would I be ashamed of myself? That’s exactly what I asked her. ‘You're throwing yourself at Captain Renault every single day when he’s so much older than you. Desperate, much?’ She looked at me, almost disgusted. ‘As if you’ll be any different from all the other women he’s taken to his bed. Don't kid yourself, honey. Way before you came along, there were a lot of women who thought they were special too, only to be tossed aside like a used toothpick. They all came and went, most of them aren’t even in Casablanca anymore. You really think you’ll be lucky enough to be Captain Renault’s woman? No. You’ll just be his whore. Once he takes what he wants from you, he’ll get bored of you and move onto the next beautiful young woman that catches his wandering eye.’ Mrs. Mayhew rolled her eyes and shook her head disapprovingly at me before she turned around, putting an end to the conversation—” You used finger quotes when you said the last word. “—If I can even call it that. It’s true you’re so much older than me. But we’re both adults and unmarried, so it’s nothing scandalous. I don’t care about our age difference, darling. And I know you don’t either. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not really sure why I even told you. They aren’t going to ruin my day, darling, not when you went through so much effort to make tonight a romantic night for the two of us.”

Usually he loves listening to you tell him about your day but, this time, it only makes his blood boil. Not at you, but at those odious women for harassing you. But he can’t get angry now. It wouldn’t do you any good. All he can do is hold your hands and squeeze them reassuringly to comfort you. He wishes more and more that he didn’t have to question you about the poisons in your cabinet. He trusts you, he really does, and he knows that you know that. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s tricked you into an interrogation or is threatening you into making a confession, but he’s just so worried about you. He doesn’t care where you got them from, but he needs to know why you have them. Once the table has been cleared and the dishes have been washed, he broaches the subject gently or, at least, as gently as he’s able. He’s not the Prefect of Police looking for a reason to arrest you. He’s just Louis, your Louis, your concerned lover who doesn’t want you to wind up in a concentration camp or dead.

By this point in your relationship, it’s pretty clear to you Captain Renault has no love for the Nazis. He never did. He never went all that far out of his way to help them out. There were subtle hints that you picked up on indicating that Louis had been quietly sabotaging Strasser’s agenda this whole time. While he and Strasser were in his office at the Palais de Justice, he told his Nazi superior there was no way Rick would hide the letters of transit in his café after Strasser suggested a raid to get them. He subtly reminded Victor Laszlo that obliging Strasser’s offer of an exit visa in exchange for the names and locations of anti-fascist leaders across Europe would be helping the Nazis destroy Europe. Strasser looked at Renault sharply, but saw only a noncommittal smile on his face.

Still, when he voices his concerns, you can’t help but let out a small scoff. It comes out involuntarily, almost like a reflex. You immediately apologize for your reaction when you see the wounded look in his brown eyes, making him look like a kicked puppy. You know Louis means well and you don’t mean to brush him off so coldly. His fears are very much valid in this scenario. It’s just…tragically ironic, isn’t it? He wants to protect you from a fate you’ve already suffered once before and another fate you’re not afraid of. You regretfully tell him that it’s too late for you in regards to the former and you’d welcome the latter with open arms so long as you believed you did everything you set out to do. He doesn’t understand what you mean, so you sit with him and hold his hands as you tell him the truth, the whole truth.

It all started when you and your twin sister were eleven going on twelve. It was 1927, and your parents just divorced. The court said that children should stay with their mother and, while your mother agreed that children should, she believed neither of you would be very happy staying with her since you both loved your father so much more. Your father was no hypocrite and was glad you did. But your parents knew perfectly well that if either you or your sister were miserable, your mother would be miserable too. So she asked your father to talk to the both of you, see how you felt about it. He was glad to do it. He took you and your sister out to dinner, but the three of you hardly ate anything.

“You'll see. You'll be very happy with your mother. Your mother loves you. You know that, girls, don't you?”

“Yes, Daddy. But you love us too, don't you, Daddy? Why wouldn't we be happy with you too?”

“Well, I don't know if I can explain this to you, girls. You see, your mother and I are of different faiths.”

“I never noticed any difference, Daddy.”

“Me neither, Daddy.”

“Well, I mean, religious faiths.”

“You believe in God, don't you?”

“Oh, certainly, I do.”

“Well, so does Mommy. She told us so.”

“Oh, honestly, we don't see any difference.”

“Well, girls, it's... uh, you see... l'm Jewish. Your mother is not. Now, if you stay here with your mother, you will never know what it is... I mean, if you come to Europe with me, it's different there...and people may look upon you as... Oh, this is very difficult to explain to children.”

“I suppose it's easier to explain to grown-ups, isn't it?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, if you don't want us, Daddy...”

“…I suppose we can always live by ourselves.”

“Oh, my darlings!”

“Oh, Daddy. Daddy. Please take us with you, Daddy, even to Europe!”

“We won't be any trouble. we promise!”

“Shhh. Girls, girls—“

“Oh, please, Daddy. We promise!”

“Well, darlings, there are wonderful schools in Switzerland.”

“And mountains. Oh, Daddy, please speak to Mother. Maybe she'll say yes.”

“She will, darlings, she will. Shhh.”

“Oh, Daddy.”

“Daddy... Do you think Mother will be very lonesome?”

“Not too lonesome, darlings.”

Over the years, you received handwritten letters from your estranged mother, who was probably enjoying being the center of attention at all her fabulous parties and having a series of affairs with lovers much younger than herself, living well on the extremely generous settlement your father left her - half his fortune - and hardly giving a thought to you and Fanny, her daughters. She was probably relieved to be free of the encumbrance of her children, since she didn’t make any effort to see either you nor Fanny for many years. All you ever received from her were sporadically sent letters.

“My darling daughters...where does the time go? I thought I could surely see you this summer…”

“My darling daughters, it is terrifying to think...that so many years have passed and we still haven't seen each other...but Mother misses you, and...”

You were a nineteen-year-old woman when imprisoned alongside your father in a concentration camp. He urged you to flee to safety with your twin sister and return home to your mother in New York while you still had the chance, but you refused. Although you could, and he even told you that you should, you wouldn’t just leave your father behind in Berlin. You didn’t want to just abandon him to whatever fate the Nazis chose for him. You were frightened of the Nazis just like your sister was, of course you were, but you could conceal it better than she could. You turned that fear into power, into motivation to survive in spite of the odds that were stacked against you. The Nazis didn’t frighten your father, so you wouldn’t show fear in the face of your oppressors either.

Your father was stripped of his entire fortune, his freedom, and even his eyesight. You were forced to watch as they tortured him, helpless to do anything against the armed guards. Knowing that you were watching and couldn’t look away unless you wanted to get shot, your father tried to put on a brave face for your sake despite being in excruciating pain. He tried to be quiet and just bear it through gritted teeth, but he still involuntarily let out sounds of anguish which was music to the Nazis’ ears. Though the Nazis didn’t touch you that day, you flinched. Every cry, every whimper from your father felt like the lashing of a whip against your skin. Your heart felt like it was being squeezed so hard you couldn’t breathe. As you were forced to listen, you stared at the Nazi commander, burning the image of his face into your memory. He had to have felt your eyes glaring daggers into the back of his skull, but he didn’t care. Your father’s blood stained his jacket, but he didn’t stop torturing him until he was completely blind and half-dead. Only then was the inhuman monster satisfied. He looked so smug as he took everything from your father except his life. You nursed your father as best as you could with whatever supplies you could get your hands on. Materials were scarce and often makeshift, but you’d find whatever you could use and get creative if it meant you and your father would live another day. No matter how abysmal the conditions were, you had to hold onto hope. The Nazis wouldn’t kill you that easily. They could very well try.

You keep a diary and in it you’ve written about anything and everything, from your time in Switzerland all the way up to now. You’ve done well to write using an encoded language that only you understand in case it ever falls into the wrong hands. Your time in Berlin taught you that. Everyone was under surveillance and nobody was safe. You’ve worked extra hard and taken extra precautions to keep your secrets safe ever since you were stripped of your right to privacy.

You had friends and neighbors who were outright killed, while others died from suicide, starvation, or disease. The Nazis wanted you to feel like you were alone. Nobody to help you. Nobody to protect you. They dehumanized you. They took your freedom from you. They took your property and possessions from you. They put you in a cell and took everything they could take except your life. And you believed that was all there was, didn't you? The only thing you had left was your life, but it wasn't, was it? You found something else. In that cell you found something that mattered more to you than life. It was when they threatened to kill you unless you gave them what they wanted...you told them you'd rather die. You faced your death. You were calm. You were still.

Whenever you felt your hopes of freedom dwindling, you traced the message that was carved above your bunk in your cell and read, "It is time to remember. If there is a God, he will have to beg my forgiveness.” You would never know who carved that message. A past prisoner who was more than likely dead and had been before you and your father ever arrived. But whoever they were, you hoped they were at peace. Their message filled you with determination to survive every damn day until you either died, were liberated, or escaped. That message from a ghost motivated you to endure. You vowed to the dead that you would keep fighting. No matter what the Germans had at their disposal, no matter what contraptions they used to torture you and break you down mentally, physically, and emotionally day in and day out, you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of witnessing your surrender. Come what may, you and your father would endure this Hell together. You would resist the evil that operated these death camps. Even if it killed you both.

Even you’re not exactly sure how you managed it, but you and your father escaped around the same time as Victor Laszlo. Since he was a much more prominent and influential figure as the leader of a rebellion group who supported the Resistance movement, he was Public Enemy Number One. The Nazis focused all their attention and energy on recapturing him. Taking advantage of their distraction, you and your father slipped through the cracks and were able to get away. Now your father is back home safely with your mother in New York City while your twin sister is married and with her husband in Seattle. But not you. Following your escape from the concentration camp, you spent years hunting for the camp commander who took everything from you and your father. You went all the way to England, where you ended up working as a cook for a Free French garrison stationed way out in the countryside, with no street signs to tell you where you were for miles and miles. With cows, hay bales, and barns, it was a quiet place that looked more like a dairy farm than a base of the famous squad, Victoire. To think that all those incredible bombings came from a quiet place like that. It seemed a strange environment for one of the deadliest squadrons in the service, but the French didn’t mind the quiet. They rather enjoyed it.

In 1941 you finally received some very valuable intel from Captain Freycinet, a liaison officer who was in charge of the whole operation, on the whereabouts of the Nazi commander. With his help, you assumed a new identity and traveled to Casablanca in French Morocco, North Africa. You found him. Major Heinrich Strasser. You made sure to change your appearance enough so he wouldn’t recognize you. And indeed, he didn’t, not even when you were stood inches away from him at Rick’s. But you’d recognize him from miles away.

Your escape didn’t change the fact there were millions of children and their family members who died every year in concentration camps since before the war even began. Even now as you speak, more are dying every day from malnutrition and starvation, in a world able to produce more than enough food. Who would be their voice during this holocaust? Artificial famine is still being used by the Nazis as a weapon against whoever they consider undesirable. Their agenda needs challenging, those starving kids need champions. Who will answer their call? Who will take effective action? Who will free them from this inhumane torture and give them good health? You can’t just sit around twiddling your thumbs and wait for the war to end. You can’t just bear witness to the suffering around you and do nothing. You got out. You want to help others get out too. You want your survival to mean something. You won’t leave Casablanca until Major Strasser is dead by your hand.

Hitler is a vegetarian. He never eats any meat. And Hitler is so paranoid that the British will poison him — that's why he has fifteen girls taste the food before he eats it himself. The food is delicious, only the best vegetables, asparagus, bell peppers, everything anyone can imagine. And always with a side of rice or pasta. But this constant fear — those girls know of all those poisoning rumors and can never enjoy the food. Every day they fear it’s going to be their last meal. But neither Major Strasser nor Herr Heinz nor any of the other Nazis have such a luxury in Casablanca.

Death by arsenic is heavy-metal poisoning, meaning it would have to accumulate in the victim’s system to kill them. A massive dose would be immediately detectable, as arsenic has a bitter, nasty taste— Imagine getting a mouthful of powdered aluminum. No one would have gotten past the first bite before spitting it out, and a residual mouthful of arsenic, while not the greatest thing for one's liver or kidneys, is not fatal. Even if the victim could choke down such a large direct dose, death would be a slow, agonizing process over a period of days as their organs slowly shut down. You tell Louis that you’ve been using a different poison, one that’s odorless, nearly tasteless, and dissolves instantly in liquid, making it untraceable. It’s among the more deadly poisons known to man and you’ve already begun lacing Strasser and Heinz’s food with it. Nobody has noticed, not even Strasser or Heinz themselves. They’ve accredited their illness to Casablanca’s climate or some sort of virus going around and spreading through the air. You tell Louis he can either help you or not, but it makes no difference to you. Nothing he can say or do will convince you to change your mind. You emphasize to him that what you’re doing isn’t revenge. It’s retribution.

You and Louis both watch the Nazis drop like flies in the aftermath of your grand scheme. The deaths are spaced far enough apart that the uptick in illnesses and deaths are blamed on something going around in the air, like influenza. Herr Heinz dies before Major Strasser. He takes a turn for the worse and just never wakes up again, despite attempts at resuscitation. When the doctor examines him and an autopsy is performed, nothing is found in his system that would indicate foul play. His death is ruled as being caused by his heart, attributed to his diet and alcohol intake. He was rather fat, after all.

While the Germans mourn, you bide your time and get cooking, waiting for an opportune moment to slip Major Strasser the final dose. His immune system and metabolism are stronger than Herr Heinz’s was, so it’s taking longer for the poison to work, but it matters not. Major Strasser, angered that he and his fellow Nazis are drowned out while singing a patriotic German tune by "Marseillaise," a Free French anthem sung by the club's other patrons, led by Victor Laszlo, orders Louis to find a reason to close Rick’s establishment until further notice. The Germans think they’ve won a battle against the French Resistance in doing so. Major Strasser has since worsened considerably, but he’s a very stubborn man who refuses to display weakness, so he keeps working.

Come that fateful morning in which you’ve planned for yet another name to be listed in the obituaries, you make coffee for yourself and Louis. He nearly takes the thermos with the poisoned tea by mistake, but you’re quick to let him know, stopping him just in time before the poison even touches his lips.

“Don't drink that. Never.”

“My dear, do we have to do this? Must we?”

“Yes. You have no idea what they'd do. I would be taken from here. Locked away. Tortured until death by hanging or firing squad. Made an example. And if they ever found out, if they ever even suspected you were a part of it, you’d suffer the same fate as I. I’ve come too far to be interrupted now. I can’t turn back. We can’t turn back. We either succeed together or we fail together, there’s no other choice. Trust me, I know what I’m doing. And I trust you to know what you’re doing too. Don’t get cold feet and turn on me now.”

Around lunchtime, you pay a visit at the Palais de Justice under the pretense of bringing food and drink to Louis and the gendarmes again, like you’ve always done. Everyone says they can smell blackberry pie and, indeed, that’s what you’ve baked as a special dessert for them. You pass it off to Lieutenant Casselle before entering Louis’ office, the door closing firmly behind you with a soft click. Louis is with Major Strasser, who remains seated while Louis prefers to stand at his desk. Major Strasser’s strength is failing him, but he does everything in his power to hide it. Louis is drinking coffee and eating whatever's left from the baked goods you brought him last Friday, but Major Strasser looks as if he hasn’t eaten a single bite since he woke up this morning.

“Major Strasser. I’m surprised to see you’re up and about. Your landlady said she found you at the bottom of the stairs this morning. Are you feeling any better?”

He doesn’t respond, but his expression gives away his displeasure at his landlady having loose lips. Clearly he was hoping that nobody else would find out about what happened this morning.

You hold up two thermoses. “I brought you some homemade broth. Do you think you can eat?”

“No.”

“Then you must drink something at the very least. Here, I also brought you some herbal tea. It should clear up all that congestion in your throat and in your chest." You open the other thermos and slowly pour him a cup. You guide it into his unsteady hands. "It will help with building your immunity,” you assure him. “You must get stronger.”

He takes a sip of the hot tea, but grimaces at its acidic taste. "It's just a little bitter."

"I'm afraid that's the medicine. I tried to put as much sugar and honey in it to lessen the bitterness, but I see that my efforts were to no avail." In actuality, what he’s tasting is the laced sugar powder. In small amounts it kills the victim slowly enough that nobody will notice.

“I can cope." He continues to take small sips of the tea as he readily watches you.

Major Strasser is very sick. He’s dying. Of course he’s dying. He didn’t eat the broth. Doesn't matter. You put the poison in the tea too. In the evening, you’re told by the landlady that Major Strasser has retired early and won’t be taking anymore visitors. Louis uses his authority as Prefect of Police to create a believable distraction that allows you to sneak upstairs and into Strasser’s room. He’s laid up in bed and startles at your sudden appearance, but is so weak that he can barely move or speak louder than a hoarse whisper. He can’t even muster up the strength to pull himself into sitting up.

“What are you doing here? I told my landlady I didn’t want to be disturbed. How did you get in here? Doesn’t matter. Get out.”

“I tended Father in a bed. Though, now that I think about it, it wasn’t much of a bed. More of a cot, really. The man who put him in that cot was a brute. He hated Father. He tortured him, beat him within an inch of his life. The cruel and unusual punishment inflicted upon him rendered him completely blind. He never quite healed. He was bedridden for a long time. But I cared for him. Fed him. Bathed him. Combed his hair. Rubbed liniment on his scars. I made him better. I'll do the same with you. I'll make you better. You’ll be out of this bed soon. I promise.”

The more you talk, the more perturbed Strasser becomes. He looks at you as if you’ve gone insane. He has no idea what you’re rambling on about. Everything you’re saying sounds like utter nonsense to him. He hides it well, but you can still see it. The thinly veiled fear in his eyes. He’s little more than wholly paralyzed, incapable of moving a muscle beyond twitching his fingers, blinking, and, of course, moving his lips. He can’t call for help. He’s at your mercy, what he believes is the mercy of a madwoman, but you have none to give. Not tonight.

“Look at me.” You force him to maintain eye contact with you. “Do you know who I am?” It’s a rhetorical question and he doesn’t answer, only stares at you. You need to refresh his memory. You weren’t expecting anything else. “No. You still don’t know me. Well, can’t say I’m surprised or disappointed. I’ve been beside you all this time and you never once recognized me. But I can’t fault you entirely for it. The years no doubt have changed me, Major. But then, I suppose the face of a Jewish banker’s daughter — the face of a prisoner in a concentration camp — is not particularly memorable. I’ve had my eyes on you ever since you took away my father’s eyesight.”

Major Strasser’s expression, usually that of hardened iron, morphs into one of horrified realization. No… You can’t possible be… Both you and your father died. He wants to deny what’s right in front of him but, as he looks upon you now, really looks at your face, your eyes… he sees so much of your father in you and realizes he was gravely mistaken. His voice is laced with unbridled hatred when he seethes through his teeth, “Y/N Skeffington!”

You shake your head. “No. That’s the name given to me upon my birth, the name I had to abandon before I came to Casablanca. The immigration official on Ellis Island wasn't a good speller, and ‘Skeffington’ was the closest he could get to ‘Skevinzskaza’. That’s the name I want you to think about as you die. Give Herr Heinz my regards when you see him in Hell.”

You listen closely as Major Strasser lets out his last feeble gasps and then stops breathing. Nobody notices you leave as you close the door behind you and go back down the stairs. They’re still distracted by Louis. After you leave, Louis strays behind for a few minutes longer to convincingly sell the deception before making an excuse to leave. When you get back to the safety of your apartment, you stand for a long moment, sweat dripping from your face, exalted. Then you sink to your knees, overcome. You did it. You finally did it.

You and Louis have your bags already packed and ready to go. You’ve already gone through everything in your apartments with a fine tooth comb so that no evidence tying either of you to your crimes would accidentally get left behind. The plan is to get in and get out, as if you’re both ghosts and nobody ever lived in these apartments. Once you decided on what Strasser’s death day would be, it was go time. So you and Louis have been prepared for this day for days, possibly even weeks in advance. The poison is untraceable and undetectable once it enters the human body. It’s highly unlikely it’ll come back to you, that’s true, but neither you nor Louis want to take any chances. Your work here is done, so you have no reason to stay in Casablanca a minute longer. Nobody will check on Major Strasser until the morning, so you have a few hours to get away before anyone discovers his body or reports his death.

“There’s a Free French garrison in Brazzaville. I could provide us a passage. Rick has already used his letters of transit to travel there and join the fight on the side of the Allied cause. I could cable him and—“

“That’s not a bad idea, darling. But I have an even better one. My godfather is the owner of a mining company that specializes in diamonds. He’s based in South Africa. I can cable him ahead of time so that he knows we’re coming. He and my father started off as business partners, but became very close friends over the many years they worked closely together. When Fanny and I were born, he was unmarried and had no children of his own, so Daddy made him my godfather. I’m confident he’ll welcome us with open arms. I’m his favorite godchild.”

“Are you his only godchild?”

“Yes, but the point still stands. His morals may be gray at times when it comes to business, but he would never give us away. He loves me and respects my father too much to even think about betraying me. If there’s another man in the world who would help me get away with murder apart from you, it’s him,” you joke at the end to try to lighten the mood and calm Louis’ nerves.

When Louis takes your hand and helps you step off the train, your godfather is stood there on the platform, waiting to greet you. You let go of Louis’ hand and your godfather immediately pulls you into a crushing hug. He kisses the side of your head, mussing up your hair a little bit.

“There she is, my darling girl! I'm so glad you're here. It’s been so terribly long since I last saw you. Too long. Let me get a good look at you.” Not letting go of your arms, he steps back and looks you up and down. “You look healthy. So you’ve been sleeping well? Eating well? That’s good.” He hugs you again, then wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? Tell me all the news. Did you have a good trip? I got your cable but, tell me, is your father worse? I was just beside myself, nearly sick to death with worry when I heard the dreadful news that the Germans captured the both of you. If I could’ve, I would’ve used all my money and influence to get the both of you out. But money had completely lost its power over there. The only thing that motivates those devils is the thought of total extermination. Then to hear that you escaped, but that poor Job was rendered completely blind…”

“Dad is doing just fine. I won’t lie, It’s been an adjustment and isn’t always easy for him, but he and Mother have reconciled and are living together again. I believe they’re happy now. I’ve called and written letters to home as often as I’ve been able, though it isn’t nearly as much as I’d hoped. I’ve been very busy lately. I’m sorry I haven’t had many opportunities to write or call you to keep you informed on what’s been happening. I know how frightened for Dad and I you must’ve been. The not knowing must’ve been the worst. After Dad and I escaped, he went to New York. Uncle George found him sitting on a park bench, sunning himself. He immediately took him back home to Mother. I went to England and stayed there for a while, then traveled to Casablanca. But I had company all the time. Speaking of which, Uncle Fred, may I introduce you to Mr. Louis Renault? Louis, this is my godfather, Fred Martingale.”

The men act cordial and shake hands.

“How do you do, sir?”

“I’m doing very well. Thanks for asking. You both must be tired from your long journey. Come, let’s all get in my car and I’ll show you to my house. I’m sure you’re both eager to get settled in. There’s guest rooms ready for the both of you. Or if you’d prefer, I could arrange to have you share a room. Just make sure to lock the door first whenever you use it.”

“Uncle Fred!” You sputter, your face heating up from embarrassment. You know exactly what he’s implying, but your admonishment isn’t serious. You can’t help but laugh.

You load your bags into the trunk and get in the car. You want Louis and Uncle Fred to use this time to bond, so you sit in the backseat while Louis sits up front in the passenger seat next to your godfather. As he drives along the desert roads, you’re the first to break the silence and make conversation. You want to help Louis to get comfortable and build rapport with Fred. The sooner you can all get past the awkward part, the better.

“So what have you been up to, Uncle Fred? How’s the diamond business going? Have there been any major changes since we last corresponded?”

“Oh, for the most part it’s been business as usual, I would say. Though we did have a bit of excitement for a time. Do you remember that man I told you about, Michael Davis?”

“Yes, I remember. Wasn’t he the one who came across a cache of diamonds in a prohibited mining area located somewhere in a remote region? He was caught by the mine's police, but refused to reveal the diamonds' location, even under torture at the hand of the diamond company's security chief, Paul Vogel. But I thought Davis left South Africa?”

“He did. For some time. But then he came back. To make a long story short, he came back because he wanted the diamonds and had no reason to believe they wouldn’t be in the same place he left them. I hired Suzanne Renaud, a trollop from Cape Town, to seduce Mike so he’d tell her where the diamonds are, information which she would relay back to me. Unlike Vogel, I wanted to use guile rather than force. Suzanne, or whatever other aliases she went by, was a talented actress and I trusted her to get the job done.”

“And then what happened?” Louis asked, intrigued.

“Mike made me a deal that appealed to me. He said he’d trade the location of the cache of diamonds he found in the desert if I helped him save Suzanne from Vogel. The diamonds for the girl. I personally didn’t think she was worth it, but they were in love and there was no changing his mind. He shot Vogel dead, sailed off somewhere with Suzanne to start a new life, and I got my diamonds.”

“Good riddance, I’d say. I never did like Vogel. That horrible man was always so power hungry and sadistic.”

“You know, in his way he was quite a remarkable fellow. Nasty, but remarkable. Your timing is impeccable, actually. When I got your cable, I had just recently got back from holiday. I had an early flight the day before yesterday and haven’t yet had a chance to unpack my bag.”

“Pleasant holiday, Mr. Martingale?”

“Very nice, yes. When we get to my house, you can fix yourself a drink there, if you like, Mister...uh, Mister...? I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Renault. Louis to you, Mr. Martingale. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Fred. If we’re to be on a first name basis, you should drop the formality and use mine too, don’t you think? After all, we are practically family, Louis.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“You are attached to my goddaughter, are you not? You’re her…her lover, her boyfriend, her beau, whatever you’d like to call it. Why else would she bring you here? Then you must also know that I cherish the woman sitting behind us as if she were my own flesh and blood. So from now on, call me Fred.”

“Then I’m Louis to you, Fred.”

“For now. I imagine it won’t be much time until you’ll officially be like a son to me. Am I right? Will there be wedding bells in your near future? I never know what to think anymore. I'm being constantly disillusioned. Has money completely lost its power? Is everyone motivated now by love? First Mike and Suzanne, and now you two.”

“Why do you think I agreed to come here with your goddaughter? Why do you think she asked me to assist her in her goals? From the moment when I first set my eyes upon her, I knew I'd met the one woman that I wanted to be my wife. Even though she was a mess and smelled of sweat, grease, and oil, I was a little overwhelmed by her beauty. It’s a gross understatement when I say that she was the most beautiful woman to ever set foot in Casablanca.”

“Well put, Louis. When the time comes, I can provide you with any diamond of your choosing. I have a fine selection here. The Starlight, The Eureka, The Cullinan Dream, The Kazanjian Red, Tiffany… Nothing is too expensive for my goddaughter’s hand.”

You piped in, “Just as long as it’s not too gaudy.”

“Gaudy? Impossible. Any diamond you wear could be nothing but glamorous, my dear.”

Once you’ve settled in, you use the phone to call home.

“Number, please.”

“Long distance, please.”

“Long distance.”

“I want to put in a person-to-person call to...Mrs. Frances Skeffington, New York City, 2926.”

“2926?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Hello?”

“Mother. It’s me. I know it’s been an awfully long time since we last spoke, but—“

“My darling! Oh, where have you been? Where are you now? Your father told us that you were going to England, but we haven’t heard much of anything since!”

“I’m currently in South Africa and staying with Uncle Fred. He’s more than willing to provide me with room and board until the war is over. As for everything else… It’s a long story, Mother, but I promise I’ll tell you it in person as soon as I’m able to come home. Though I feel I must warn you now that it likely won’t be until after the end of the war is announced. Traveling isn’t safe for me right now. But I promise I’m perfectly safe here. May I speak to you for a moment about something else? Something very important?”

“Of course, darling. Yes?”

“After I left England, I spent nearly three years in Casablanca, North Africa. While I was there, I got a job as a cook in a café and…I met someone. Someone I love very much. His name is Louis Renault, and he and I are going to be married after the war is over.”

“Louis Renault. Well... I had no idea. But, darling, have you known him very long?”

“I've known him several months, longer than I've known you.”

“But don't you think you should have talked it over with your mother?”

“Have I a mother?”

The line is silent for a few moments, and you wonder if maybe your mother hung up until-

“That's not kind of you, darling. I've always loved you very much.”

“Sort of a long-distance love, wasn’t it, Mother?”

“I never wanted you or Fanny to leave me. It was just that... Well, just that you loved your father so much.”

“And it was just that our father loved us so much.” You pause for a few moments as you gather your thoughts. “Oh, Fanny and I know you had a difficult choice to make. You couldn't be both a beauty and a mother.” You pause again as your words sink in. “Oh, Mother, we used to worry about our looks too...when we were thirteen and all arms and legs. Fanny used to hate that brace she had on her teeth. I hated the acne on my face. But Father would always comfort us. ‘A woman is beautiful only when she's loved,’ he'd say.”

“Yes, he said that to me once too. I didn’t understand or appreciate it then, but I do now. Darling, do you suppose it's too late for me to be a real mother to you now?”

“It would have to be a long-distance love again.”

“I'm willing to try.”

“It wouldn't work out, Mother. Once the war ends, Louis and I want to move back to his home in France. I’ll get a job as a cook, and Louis’ been expressing interest in leaving behind his law enforcement career and pursuing other fields where he can find more honest work. Though I do want you to come to my wedding. I really do. Well, I suppose you wish me luck.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Is Dad at home? I’d love to speak with him, if I can.”

“Yes, he’s here. I’ll pass the phone to him.”

“Thank you. Goodbye, Mother.”

“Goodbye, darling.”

You hear the sounds of the creaky armchair as your mother gets up. You listen to her faint voice in the background as she tells your father that you’re calling. You listen to the armchair creak again, this time a bit louder from your father’s heavier frame as he sits down and gets settled. Hearing your father’s voice fills you with immense relief and elation.

“Daddy… forgive me for not calling you sooner. So many things have happened since we parted ways, some unexpected, some wonderful. But I just had to hear your voice. I just had to tell you… I am engaged. Rejoice for my mind is made up.”

“Engaged? My goodness, sweetheart. I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I hope that, in time, you’ll understand. My prayer is that you’ll accept that this is my decision, my free decision. I know I went about this backwards. Forgive me and Louis for not asking your permission first. But we—“

“Permission? You don’t need my permission, silly girl. You’re nearing twenty-six, aren’t you?”

“I know. But I would like to have your blessings, Dad. Do I h—”

“You don’t even have to ask. Wherever you go, you may take my blessings with you, whatever that means.“

“Oh, Daddy. It means more than anything. More than anything! I promise that I won’t be married until after the war is finally over. Once France has healed, I’ll leave for Paris with Louis to marry. We don’t want a big affair, something quiet with just close friends and family. But trying to convince Uncle Fred of that is proving difficult. He’s accustomed to the life of a bachelor, and the overindulgence in the world’s finest luxuries that comes with it.”

“I always thought he spoiled you too much. Well, I do hope you get your way, darling. But your godfather can be just as stubborn as he is charming. Don’t let his charm persuade you into letting him plan your entire wedding. It should be your day, not his.”

“I know you didn’t get to see Fanny’s wedding to Johnny Mitchell, Daddy, but I want you to see mine. You, Mother, and even Fanny and Johnny too, if possible. Please, Daddy, will you come over for the wedding? I want you to give me away.”

“We'll see. We'll talk about that later. I don’t know about your sister and her husband, but I promise your mother and I will do everything we can to be there. I promise I won’t let you fall, but you must promise me the same when we walk down the aisle together.” His voice has a teasing quality to it near the end. You’re relieved that he hasn’t lost his sense of humor after all the horror he suffered.

“It’s not just a promise, it’s a deal! Goodbye, Daddy. I promise I’ll write or call you whenever something interesting happens in my life until next we meet. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Goodbye.”

#captain Louis Renault x reader #Louis renault x reader #captain Renault x reader #captain renault #casablanca #rope of sand #Mr. Skefffington #passage to marseille #crossover prompt #crossover fic #fic prompt #crossover #crossover au #pls tag me if you’re inspired by this #I’d love to read it

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equallyshaw · 2 years

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Can you pls do something cute for matthew tkachuk?

thanku for requesting :) hope you enjoy ! "If it isn't Matty the Rat." I grinned as I opened up my family's back door to make my presence known to the Tkachuk family. Taryn immediately made her way over to give me a big hug, we'd always seen one another as sisters since we were the only two girls between the two families. "And if it isn't Hanna Hunnie." Matthew greeted me back, pulling me into a hug. I rolled my eyes, hugging the rest of the family before settling into my chair. "Heard you're killing it in New York." Chantal stated and I nodded. "Currently going into my first full two years there at the firm." I smiled, thanking the universe for my job. "It was for sure hard to come by." I added, sipping my lemonade. "Why New York?" Matt questioned and I saw the double meaning of those words. I sighed softly and shrugged, "Anywhere but here or Chicago. I needed to leave the Midwest." I answered and everybody nodded. But Matthew, knew the real reason. Before he went off to Calgary, we had shared some feelings but nothing ever came from them. Then when I graduated from Northern Illinois, he asked me if I wanted to move out and live near him. I remember chuckling at his offer during my graduation party, before swiftly telling him I had already accepted a position at a firm in New York. And with that, he never spoke about it again. Only checking in here and there, which was a stark difference from before. It was later in the evening, when I was finishing cleaning up the kitchen when we walked in. I smiled, shutting the fridge when he stopped at the spot I was at the counter. He leaned on it, staring at me with a look of interest. "Yes..." I softly questioned as wouldn't look away from. "Just admiring the view. That's all." He smiled and I shook my head. "Well, you can help me get these brownies into the tray." I said pushing the brownie pan towards him and he quickly started to disperse them. We settled into a quiet silence, one that was comfortable. I knew he was itching to say something since I was also doing that too. "Are you excited about Miami?" I asked, hoping for an honest answer. He nodded smiling, "Yeah. I am. Got a place already and am ready to meet everybody." He answered with a genuine smile. I nodded, going back to cutting out the brownies with him. "Well, I've never been to Miami...suppose I take a trip out there at some point?" I mused, peering over to catch his response. He looked up and nodded profusely like he had won the jackpot. I saw the glint of excitement in his eyes. "Hmmm. I'll remember to look at the schedule tonight and book a ticket?" I grinned and he nodded. "Would you ah, would you wanna grab some dinner together while you're there?" He questioned nervously and I smiled. "I mean, who else am I gonna hang out with?" I mused, knowing what he really meant. "But yes, I would love that." I smiled, stepping over and placing a kiss on his cheek before taking the tray of brownies outside.

#short but sweet #hope you enjoyed :)

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malfoysstilinski · 3 years

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can you do a cockwarming smut with harry pls 🥵 maybe infront of the golden trio or in the common room

pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

warnings: cockwarming, teasing, degradation, public sex

word count: 0.6k

a/n: not very happy with this, but i've been in a harry mood for a while so here you go :))

Sinking down onto his length, you groaned at the addicting feeling of being filled with Harry Potter's cock. He wore that confident look on his face that you loved so much, the same one that made your stomach do flips and caused your cunt to clench around him.

You watched his jaw tense at the feeling, his hands smoothing down your waist and grabbing your hips. Harry's fingers played with the top of your skirt, his cock not moving inside of you, just relishing in the feeling of being surrounded by your body. He loved this - he loved you.

"Such a need princess," Harry murmured, leaning back on the couch inside the Gryffindor common room, admiring your body on top of him. "Everybody will be coming back soon. You sure you want to risk them finding out how much of a little slut you are for me?"

Biting down on your lip, you stared down at Harry as innocently as you could muster, knowing he was a complete sucker for it.

"Just wanna sit here forever with you," you murmured, running your finger across his shoulder. "Feels so good to sit with you inside of me. I feel so nice 'n full."

Harry smirked a little bit. "Good," he said. "Just want my baby to feel good, after all."

Before you could reply to him, the portrait hole slid open and the sound of familiar voices yelling above each other filled both your ears. Harry's hands smoothed down your back to subtly make sure your skirt was covering your behind and you leaned further into him, acting as though you had just been cuddling.

It caused Harry's cock to reach something deeper inside of you, brushing against a sensitive area that made you quietly whine into his jumper. Harry ran a hand down your hair, smiling at everybody who had entered the room.

"Hi guys," Harry greeted all of your friends.

"Harry, Y/N, please will you tell Ron that there is no such thing as a five second rule!" Hermione huffed as she sat down in the armchair opposite the two of you.

Ron rolled his eyes, taking the spot beside the two of you. You clenched around Harry teasingly, causing him to pinch your thigh subtly.

"It's not that big a deal," Ron replied, sending Hermione a pointed look.

"Depends," Harry shrugged.

"No, Hermione's right," you said, lifting your head off of Harry a little bit. "Germs don't wait five seconds before getting in your food."

"Thank you!" Hermione exclaimed, flinging her hands up. "Thank God that somebody in this room has common sense. Fred and George were completely backing up Ron."

"Maybe it's a boy thing," you grimace.

"Hey!" Harry huffed as Ron and Hermione began to argue more, other people entering the common room and sitting around. He leaned closer to you and murmured in your ear, "They have no idea."

"Of course they don't," you whispered back. "If they did, Ron wouldn't be sitting literally two feet away."

Harry chuckled a little and you giggled along. The vibrations seemed to go right through him, making him groan and close his eyes for a moment. Luckily, everybody but you seemed to miss it. A smirk travelled across your face.

"Did that feel good?" You asked him quietly.

"Shut it," Harry warned, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder.

You closed your eyes again, leaning back into him and silently whining as his cock hit that spot yet again. You felt him twitch inside of you, and then Harry began to bob his leg a little bit. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling his cock move ever so slightly inside.

And nobody else had any idea.

harry and general taglist: @cpetrova @hufflepuffsophie @miraclesoflove @ilovemoviekidd826 @aetheralist @expexto-paxtronum @rileszabini @edithreads @abbott27 @Sweetvnlla @skaratjung @dlmmdl @sw33tgirl @ayaosk @i-love-scott-mccall

#harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #harry james potter smut #harry j potter smut #harry james potter imagine #harry j potter imagine #harry james potter #harry potter #harry j potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #harry j potter x reader

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genshin-fluff · 3 years

Text

Diluc Being Jealous.

Hello! I’ve received requests regarding jealousy headcanons, and I started to work on them. However, they turned out to be quite long so I decided to post them separately. Here is Diluc. Please enjoy your reading!

You were supposed to meet with Diluc at the tavern around 8pm.

However, on your way there, to your surprise, you stumble upon nobody else but Zhongli, who apparently was visiting Mondstadt for business reasons.

“It may so happens that I have a few free moments, y/n. Perhaps you could show me a good place to dine in Mondstadt?”

You couldn’t say no to this man. It was 7 pm and you had a free hour anyway.

Good Hunter was closed so the only choice was the tavern.

Diluc was the bartender, and he was constantly checking the door whenever it would open, hoping to see you.

When you finally came, he couldn’t help but smile. He almost raised his hand to greet you when he saw. another man. with you.

Diluc. Was. Not. Pleased™.

He would instantly switch to his default “arm crossed, slight frown stance” and keep it for the whole time you two were there.

You are the one who asked to meet him at the tavern, and now you show up with another guy? Are you that shameless?

You greet him with a warm smile on your face, and take a seat at a table with Zhongli.

He would try his best not to stare or listen in, and he’d try his best to focus on other customers, but he just.. couldn’t help himself, especially when you were literally in the same room as him. What were you two even talking about? Are you that giddy with everybody?

Diluc was a very self-confident person, but even he noticed how cool Zhongli was. He was perfect in every way. His clothes fit perfectly, he was also undeniably handsome, and, from what he could hear, he was also very well spoken and rich. Even his ponytail was slicker than his.

As he was thinking about these things, he’d quietly brood behind the counter. Did you forget about the fact that you were supposed to meet him?

Deep down, he’d be extremely sad. He’s opened up his heart to you, which was already a difficult task, and seeing you with another man laughing and having such a great time, without any notice from you, would make him question whether or not you feel the same for him.

However, the rational side of him knew that there must be something else to it, because you wouldn’t just show up in front of him out of nowhere with another guy. He honestly just wanted to hear an explanation to ease his heart.

Eventually, you told Zhongli that you were glad you two could catch up, and that you could continue this conversation tomorrow, because at that moment you were supposed to meet Diluc.

You two went to the counter to pay the bill, and Diluc would try his BEST to be as indifferent as possible.

“That’ll be 5000 mora.”

Zhongli would reach for his pocket.

“O h n o. I am so sorry y/n, but it seems that I am out of mora again.”

“Again?? It’s like the fourth or fifth time!”

Again? Fifth time? Have you been meeting this guy all this time?

You sighed and wanted to grab your wallet, but Diluc stopped you.

“It’s fine, it’s on the house.”

“You are quite a gentleman indeed. Thank you so much for your generosity. I’m glad to know that y/n has such kind people beside her. I will see myself out, y/n. Thank you for such an entertaining evening. “

And with that, Zhongli would leave.

You’d turn your face to Diluc, only to be met with cold, unreadable eyes.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for a long time. I tried to finish with Zhongli in time. Maybe we could leave the tavern and go for a walk? ”

“As you can see, y/n. I am quite busy right now. It seems that you were busy as well too.”

“It’s fine, I can wait. I was actually looking forward to meeting you.”

Diluc would almost freeze. You just came with another man and you would say such sweet things to him? He couldn’t be angry with you and he couldn’t say no. He hoped everything was a misunderstanding.

“..Fine. I’ll be done in 2 minutes.”

You two left the tavern and went for a walk outside Mondstadt.

You noticed that he wasn’t feeling well, but you didn’t say anything until you two were alone.

In fact, Diluc was waiting for this exact moment too, because the instant nobody was around, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He had to ask you about the tavern. His mind was brimming with questions. Have you been playing with his feelings all along? Was everything just a joke to you, when he took everything so seriously?

“So, who was that guy? You seemed quite cheerful during the whole time he was there. ”

He’d try his best to seem unaffected, but you noticed the small crackle in his voice, and could tell that there was more to it.

“Oh, Zhongli?? He’s just a good friend of mine that helped me in a mission in Liyue! He never has money on him, and I end up paying for him almost all the time!! I’m sorry if I caused you trouble.”

Diluc was starting to feel more at ease.

“Fine. And how come you showed up with him at the tavern? I thought you were supposed to meet me. Or perhaps were you too captivated by his words that you forgot?”

He didn’t want to seem overtly desperate, but the words just sprung out of his mouth. He is usually very well composed, but when it comes to you, he just can’t do it.

“How could I forget, you silly!! It’s just been a while since the last time I saw him, and I thought I could catch up with him since I had a free hour before our date. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise. I told him that I was supposed to meet you, and he left. There is nothing more. He is just a dear friend.”

Hearing you explain everything to him made him feel so embarrassed for ever doubting your feelings.

“And that’s everything, nothing more? He seemed to be quite a charming guy.”

“Yes, he is, but I am already in love with you. I can see you and only you, everything else is just in the background.”

As you say this, you grab his hand and squeeze your body closer to his. His hand was warm, and slightly trembling. Maybe you did make him worry.

Diluc exhaled and squeezed your hand back. How could you be so so cute? He is now feeling like a fool for ever doubting your feelings. He can finally relax.

He literally stops in the middle of the road and locks you into a tight hug, while whispering into your ear “it’s fine, I just thought that maybe you.. were on a date with him and that you didn’t have feelings for me.”

His voice was low, almost exhausted. He was glad everything was just a misunderstanding. He fell hard for you, and just the thought that you took everything as a joke was making him feel nauseous.

Oh, now you understand what it was all about.

You hug him back as tightly as possible and reassure him that everything is fine.

“No, never. You’re the only one I have feelings for, and the only one person that I want to go on dates with.”

Diluc puffed with a smile on his face. You were so corny and he was so happy to hear that everything was fine.

When he let go, you couldn’t help but ask

“May I ask if you were jealous?”

“I have no recollection of such events.” he deadpans.

Pls treasure this man cuz he may seem grumpy and cold, but his heart is so so soft and sensitive for the people he truly loves. You are the only person in his life for whom he harbors such feelings, so please take a good care of him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #genshin impact imagines #diluc ragnvindr

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thestarsanctuary · 3 years

Text

this is my first time doing a Mexican Reader so bare with me here y’all

KARASUNO AND AOBA JOHSAI WITH A MEXICAN MANAGER

Pronouns: She/Her but for the most part You.

Mexican! Reader

KARASUNO

The Karasuno team was not used to having 3 managers. Let alone a foreign one. Since you arrived from Mexico, you had introduced yourself to Tsukishima and Yamaguchi who had thankfully taken a liking to you. After a few months of getting used to the culture you saw that they were both apart of the Volleyball club. At that point you knew you just had to come and and check it out!

The first time you came wasn’t really much of a greeting. Yamaguchi had lended you his notes since you had been absent and you wanted to return them before the next day so you went to the gym and saw....well....boys. Lots of them. In a millisecond- all of their eyes were on you.

“Um...hi? I have this for Yamaguchi- where is he exactly?” You asked. You had seen some of these people around like the orange haired boy, and the black haired one as they were constantly together.

“Oh yeah he’s probably in the club room, I’ll go get him for you!” The grey haired boy said as he gave a concerning grin and ran off, leaving you with the collection of eyes watching your every move.

“So! You guys like volleyball...I do too! That’s cool” You beamed, trying to create conversation. The orange haired boy bounced over.

“YOU DO?! DO YOU PLAY?!” He asked excitedly, which made you feel a little relieved.

“No I don’t, but I used to watch all the time, I love the game.” You responded with a smile as he nodded his head in understanding.

“I’m Hinata Shoyo! I’m a middle blocker!” He grinned as he waited for the natural response to his position, but it never came. You just smiled and gave him a calm response. “Cool!”

Hinata felt himself feeling a little more shy. Maybe it was because you weren’t in disbelief or because he suddenly realized that you were a lot closer than he thought, but he shook it off and backed up as Yamaguchi came out of the club room.

“Hey y/n! Guys this is y/n! She transferred here a few months ago.” He explained as you gave them all a wave like you just came. Despite being there for 5 minutes. “Yo!”

Once you left Tanaka and Nishinoya felt their souls return to their body as they ran to Tadashi.

“YAMAGUCHI! YOU KNOW HER?! HOW?! IS SHE SINGLE?!”

“DID YOU SEE HER SMILE?! SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL” They ranted, stars in their eyes as the green-haired boy chuckled just a little.

“She’s in me and Tsukishima’s class, pretty smart if you ask me.” He responded.

How you got in as a manager was a pretty simple task. Yachi was supposed to take over for Kiyoko but she found herself struggling with the technical parts of being a manager rather than interactions and moral. And that- is when you stepped in eager to help in any way possible. So you did.

The boys already liked you when you came into the gym the first time, I mean after getting Tsukishima to tolerate you it was simply a downhill battle and it’s not like anybody was against another manager as long as they got to play.

These guys were extremely protective of you. You were this foreign first year who oh so easily volunteered to take on the job of helping handeling these kids, how could they not love you?

And that protection lasted EVERYWHERE. Somebody flirts with you? Daichi already there. Somebody insults you or your food? Nishinoya already got their number and will be telling them it’s on sight.

The girls love you! The girls nights are weekly because where could you find people to complain about and laugh at the boys to in secret? You shared with them recipies for your Chicken with Mole, and they helped make you some one time. You made the rice while they tried a hand at making the Mole and while they...struggled...it came out good and it was the effort that they valued the most!

Now since you’re Mexican you ate what you were familiar with for the most part. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Japanese food, of course not! But while you lived in Japan you didn’t have your family with you and food was the only way you could stay connected. So in your way of melting together the two cultures you sometimes made things for the team, including the coaches!

The team won a game successfully? No injuries or mishaps? Horchatas for everybody at your house no hesitation. Hinata actually got double digits on his test? Give that boy some of Enchiladas of his choice asap! The team loved your cooking! And you enjoyed giving them a taste of your home, it was a special thing between you all!

Sometimes on your bad days you would struggle with being the person you usually were. You seemed quieter and more timid when giving advice in tips. You were quite frankly, hiding in a shell the whole time. So when that happened the first time, the team decided to do some team building! They took you to an arcade [despite you refusing multiple times] and you played games all day. Watching Tanaka try and convince you that he is an amazing dancer definitly brightened your day. And even if he made a fool out of himself he didn’t mind. His lovely manager was smiling, what more could he ask for?

Overall- they all like to have you around and don’t know what they would do without you. probably die.

AOBA JOHSAI

Now with this team? It’s spoiling galore.

The first time they met you was when you were a second year transferring from Mexico and that already made you stand out from everybody else but that and the fact that you were somehow friends with Iwaizumi? Ohhh that set it off.

First off- you were a second year. Second off- not even Oikawa knew about you. What is happening?!

It turns out, you had met Iwaizumi because you lived near his family and on numerous occasions had asked him where everything was around here are as you walked to school together. You went to a separate place in the school when he went to go meet the team so you never met him until the night when Tooru slept over Hajime’s house and saw you knock on his door the next morning ready to walk.

Tooru opened the door cautiously wondering why you were outside his best-friends house in the uniform for their school. Wait- were you confessing? Did you find out his adresss and go to confess? He had to let you down easy- simple.

“Hi! I’m looking for Iwaizumi?” You said. You knew who this was you weren’t oblivious, but you had never met before so you had to introduce yourself.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re here for but Iwaizumi is not looking for a relationship right now because he is way to busy trying to pull up his trash gra- AH!” He squealed as Iwaizumi choked him by the back of his shirt.

“Shut up. Is it time already?” He asked you with a completely different tone than the one he had used with Tooru. Were you perhaps-dating?! After you nodded, Iwaizumi invited you inside while he got changed. Tooru started at you with wide eyes before walking over to you.

“So....are you and lwa-Chan secretly dating?!” He said as he got closer, with a wide grin on his face. You had known he was a character but he was really something right now.

“No?! Not at all actually I- I’m new? To Japan, I’ve been here for a few months and he’s been helping me figure out where everything is in this neighborhood.” You quickly explained hoping he would back up at least a little bit. It was as if he heard you and backed up.

“Oh- so what’s your name then pretty lady?” He said grinning. You were a little flustered and brushed it off to tell him. “That’s a beautiful name. Where you from then? If you’re new?” He asked and you explained you were from Mexico.

“Wow! I know a few words in Spanish!” He said as he recited the most basic words you had ever heard and somehow still goofed up the pronunciation. But he seemed so proud you almost couldn’t tell him he was wrong. But you did.

You became the manager because you seemed to be one of the only people Oikawa would listen to, because Iwaizumi listened to you. It was a cycle.

Once the team met you it was like love- at first sight~ You- this girl who has somehow made it so that people magically do what they’re supposed to do? Pls come immediately and shower these boys in affection.

They’re aggressively affectionate. Iwaizumi gives you headpats all the time for n o reason. None. We can all tell he favors you because even when you joke with Matsukawa about him and basically makes fun of you he’ll take it because your so nice.

You want a drink? Iwai will give you 10. Feeling a bit lonely? Matsukawa will give up his playful nature and give you a hug for as long as you’d like. Oikawa’s fangirls getting under your skin? Kunimi’s clearing that place out asap goodbye.

One time when the team was bumed out because they lost a match against Shiratorizawa, you made them all Horchatas and they were immediately like “...what is this ma’am” and you had to laugh, and they were all sitting so confused but smiling because your laugh was quite cute to them [loud or not] and you had to explain that it contained rice actually, as well as some nut milk and cinnamon [however you like them, they’d probably inhale it no matter what] and they enjoyed those things so much you brought them for every single last game until their last one.

One time, Kyotani actually asked if you could make him one for his birthday! He was so timid about it because he didn’t want to admit how much he liked it- but he was desperate. There was nothing worse than talking to people but you always seemed so nice to him, no matter how he reacted. So he asked. And you actually made him some as well as some Tacos de Papa that you had made the night before from Lunch. He graciously excepted and even listened as you explained how much you enjoyed making them because of the process and how you were happy he liked them. He even laughed and you two talked for a while that day.

Another time, you had been feeling homesick and you couldn’t take time off from the boys so you went to the practice anyways and everybody could visually tell you were out of it. You weren’t scolding them for misbehaving, and even let Kunimi leave early [he was going to leave either way] and in the end everybody was just worried. Who hurt you? Why were you so quiet? And WHERE were the drinks you had promised? A lot of questions were left unanswered because they immediately wanted to make you happier.

They decided they were just gonna talk to you. And they did. All of them- even Kyotani- sat and listened as you explained how you were feeling and it settled in for them that this is not your original home, and your family isn’t even here for you. It’s only natural you would get sad sometimes. So they forcefully sent Tooru off to get you a drink and all proceeded to abuse you with affection. It was hugs all over, people laying on your back, your legs, your side, everywhere. But you felt a bit better.

A new family is still a family. And these guys, were just that.

FIN

ok so im black im not Mexican so I was trying to look up foods and stuffs so tell me if I was like too much or gave off too little pls 😭 it feels so cringe to me idk, anyways thank you to @mrs-oikawa it won’t let me @ you but she submitted a request for this so I hope you enjoy! Send me any misspellings y’all!!! Thank you also for almost/basically 50 followers whattttt? <3333

#haikyuu x reader #aoba josai x reader #haikyuu x manager #haikyuu x manager reader #tooru oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu x poc reader #mexican #haikyuu x you #matsukawa x y/n #kyotani kentaro x reader #haikyuu kunimi #haikyuu!!

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markandlexies · 3 years

Text

The One With Will and JJ’s Wedding - Part 1

Summary: Based off of 7.23 and 7.24 of Friends! Will and JJ’s wedding is approaching and troubles arise when Will starts to panic and doesn't want to go through with it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 5,115k

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this but I love Friends and Criminal Minds and this is one of my favorite plot lines ever. I could make this a series if anybody is interested, again I’m new to this and barely even know how to use Tumblr lmao so pls be nice!!! There isn't all that much pairing of Spence and reader here but I really loved writing the relationships between the characters and I’ll def go more into detail in later chapters! If you guys have an Friends episode you would wanna see written with the criminal minds characters, feel free to send me a request! Enjoy!

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“Do you guys realize that this is the last time we’re all going to be here in O’Keefes as all single people?” JJ sighed, fiddling with her thumbs. You smiled at this, leaning on the arm of the couch, JJ sitting to your right. Emily sat on the couch also, squeezed in next to Garcia. Reid nursed a cup of coffee on the love seat to the left, while Hotch, Rossi and Morgan sat around the small table listening intently to their friend.

“Why, what’s happening to O’Keefes?” Garcia questioned, not understanding what JJ was trying to say.

Everyone just stared at her, used to this kind of behavior, and waited for the lightbulb.

“Ohhh! Right!”

“I cant believe in just two days I’ll be Mrs. LaMontagne. God, it’s just- we’ve been waiting for so long and now the day is finally here,” JJ smiled to herself, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m so excited for you, Jaje,” you smiled, resting your hand on her knee and giving it a light squeeze. She placed her hand over yours, “I just can’t help but be nervous, you know?”

“Of course, that’s normal! But actually, it’s been statistically proven that men are more nervous about marriage than woman. About 60% of men get cold feet-“

The sentence was cut short with a yelp as you kicked Spencer in the shin, urging him to stop.

Morgan cleared his throat as JJ laughed nervously. “But that’s not gonna happen... right?”

“Hey, don’t look at me...” Rossi chuckled.

“N-no of course not!” You stammered, trying to calm the bride to be’s nerves. “Spence, what are the statistics of couples that actually end up happy together?”

“Well actually about 50% to 60% of marriages end in divorce, but that doesn’t count factors such as death-“ he started.

“Well would you look at the time, we gotta go!” Garcia said, putting an end to this conversation before it could get any worse.

“Where are you guys going?” Hotch asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“We’re going to pick up the wedding dress and then go have lunch with my Mom,” JJ exclaimed as the girls all stood up to gather their belongings. Morgan got up with them, leaving Spencer, Rossi and Hotch to exchange questioning looks.

“Derek, you’re having lunch with JJ’s mom?” Rossi asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“No... I just heard lunch...”

After lunch, the girls sat around the apartment as JJ went over her list of things that still needed to be done in order for her big day.

“So what else do you have on that list?” Emily asked as she delicately applied a second coat of polish to her right hand.

“Oh, this is a different list. This is my list of all the things that could go wrong at the wedding,” she said as she wrote a couple more notes on the paper before her.

As she was met with silence she continued on, “You know, that way I could be prepared.”

“...Well, what do you have so far?” Garcia chimed in.

“So far I have, my bridesmaids dresses won’t get picked up, my veil gets lost or I don’t have my something blue-“

“Hey! Those are all the things I’m responsible for!” You interrupted, putting your coffee mug down.

“I had to do with the odds, Y/N/N!”

Before you could interject again, Will waltzed through the door. You all greeted him with a smile as he stood behind JJ’s chair, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“What are you guys up to?” He asked, his hands finding their way to JJ’s shoulders.

“Just finishing my list of all the things that could go wrong at the wedding. You can never be too sure,” she shrugged, making a couple of more notes.

Will shook his head laughing, “Oh, relax! Everything will be perfectly fine.”

“Yeah!” You chimed in. “Stop looking for things to go wrong, you don’t want to jinx it!”

“Exactly!” He agreed, walking over to the fridge to grab a beer. “So, who’s excited for 7:00 tonight?”

You all just stared at him as Garcia walked behind JJ, tearing the page off the notepad. “You might want to start a, ‘What Could Go Wrong at the Rehearsal Dinner’ list. One: Will forgets the time.”

“Will! I told you a thousand times it’s 6:30!” JJ huffed immediately scribbling down on her new paper. You grab the notepad and clutch it to your chest. “Will you stop it? He’s just messing with you! He knows it’s at 6:30!” You turn around at his wide eyed figure. “Right?”

“Uh- yeah! I knew it was 7:00 I was just kidding-“

“6:30!” You all yelled in unison.

“That’s what I meant!”

“You’re killing me here, Will!” You whispered before turning back around to your best friend. “Jaje, everything will be perfectly fine! Everything is going to go as planned!”

“She’s right! You need to stop worrying!” Emily laughed, blowing on her nails.

JJ nodded, “Yeah, you guys are right...” She stood up walking to her fiancé, “Can you believe that tomorrow we’re gonna be married?!” He smiled at her before giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Yes, and I’m so excited for you to finally be Mrs. LaMontagne.”

You all smiled at the interaction, none of you could be happier for the pair in front of you.

“I just cant believe we made it!” She swooned, grabbing his hands in hers.

“Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised!” Will scoffed.

“It’s just- never mind.” She started, walking to put some dishes in the sink.

“What?” Will laughed, following her as she walked.

“Well... honestly,” she started, “... ever since we’ve gotten engaged I’ve been waiting for something to... you know, flip you out.”

You all giggled, silently agreeing. It was no question that Will loved JJ, but he had a tendency to overthink.

“Honestly, me too... I keep waiting for something stupid to come up that’ll make me freak out and go all... Will. But nothing has.”

She turned around and smiled at him, caressing his face. “I’m so glad. Thank you so much for staying so calm during all of this.” She placed another kiss to his lips before slipping into the bathroom.

You all sat in comfortable silence for a moment before the phone started ringing. Before anyone could volunteer to answer it, it had stopped, automatically going to voicemail.

“Hi! If you’re calling before Saturday, you’ve reached JJ and Will! But if you’re calling after Saturday, you’ve reached Mr and Mrs. LaMontagne! Please leave a message for the LaMontagnes!”

The girls all giggled, having been there when JJ recorded it, assuming Will had heard it already. You all continued what you were doing and missed the look of panic that was only being discussed not too long ago. Will started to sweat profusely and loosen his tie a bit, feeling he was being choked to death.

The LaMontagnes.

The rehearsal dinner had gone smoothly for the most part, nobody realizing the panic that had been struck into Will just hours before.

Before they knew it, the night had ended and their big day had begun. The girls had been sitting around like they were the previous day, eating breakfast and chatting, excited for what was ahead. JJ was prancing around the apartment, nervously fluffing pillows and moving magazines in a straight line, she had so much adrenaline and didn’t know what to do with it.

Little did she know that across the hall, Spencer and Derek were tearing the apartment apart looking for the groom to be. Will had been staying with them the night before, being that JJ wanted the wedding day to be as traditional as possible, which meant they were not to see each other until she was walking down the aisle.

“Will! Come on, buddy. Time to wake up!” Morgan huffed, knocking on the door.

After no answer, Spencer called, “Will...”

No answer again. The men exchanged questioning looks as came to agreement their next move was to just walk in. Opening the door, they were met with a neatly tucked bed. They looked at each other confused. Derek walked in going to see if there was an trace of where he went as Spencer walked towards the kitchen.

He stopped in his tracks as his eyes met with a piece of yellow paper sitting on the counter. “Morgan...” He started, walking over to read what it said.

“What is it, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked his, standing next to Reid.

“Oh no.”

The boys ran across the hall, knocking feverishly on the door in front of them. They were met with your smile, “What’s up, you guys?”

Your smile quickly faded as you saw their worried faces.

“Is JJ in here?” Morgan asked in a hushed tone.

“She’s steaming her dress, why?” Garcia answered coming behind you.

The boys walked in the door a little further. Spencer looked up at you, pulling the paper out of his pocket. “I think Will’s gone...”

You reluctantly took the paper out of Spencer’s hands, Garcia looking down to read it with you.

“Tell JJ I’m sorry.”

You met Spencer’s eyes with disbelief of what was in front of you. The group had soon enough caught Emily’s attention and she walked over.

“What’s up?” She asked as you placed the note in her hands.

“Tell JJ I’m sorry,” she read aloud. She looked up at Morgan, shoving the note in his hands, “Tell her yourself!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose as she attempted to walk away, grabbing her by the forearm and pushing everybody outside the door.

“Oh my God! Will just left her?” You cried, running your hands through your hair.

“Okay, yeah! But maybe it’s not what we think! Maybe it’s, ‘Tell JJ I’m sorry... I drank the last of the milk!” Morgan said, desperately trying to convince himself also.

“Oh!” Garcia nodded excitedly, “Or maybe h- he was writing to tell her that he’s changed his name, you know! Uh- Tell JJ I’m ‘Sorry.’”

You and Spencer looked at each other in annoyance before Spencer whisper shouted, “I think it means he freaked out and left!”

“Don’t he so negative! God, isn’t it possible ‘Sorry’ is sitting in there right now!” Garcia whisper shouted back at Reid.

Spencer put his head in his hands and before it could escalate any further you put your hand on Garcia’s shoulder and said, “Okay, I-I think Spencer is right. What are we gonna do?”

Spencer sighed, “Well, me and Derek are gonna have to go find him and bring him back.” You all nodded in agreement.

“You guys make sure JJ doesn’t find out, okay?” Morgan added, clearly stressed.

You all started to go your separate ways as you noticed Garcia following you and Emily back into the apartment.

“Oh! No you don’t!” Emily started, blocking the door with her arm.

“W-what-“ Garcia stammered confused.

You called back to the boys who were walking out of their apartment again, jackets and phones in hand, “She’s coming with you guys.”

“Good call,” Spencer laughed.

“What are you talking about?!” Garcia huffed looking back and forth between the group.

“Pen, we need JJ to not find out! You’d blow our cover in seconds!” You said nudging her towards the guys.

“Oh, come on! That’s not fair-“

“Babygirl, you know you can’t keep secrets-“

“Oh, fine!” She rolled her eyes, walking away with them.

You and Emily walked back into the apartment as JJ excitedly ran out of her room with wet hair and a robe clinging to her body. “I’m getting married today!” The sentence ended with a yelp as she fell to the floor, you and Emily running to her aid but quickly coming to a halt as she picked herself up, not even phased.

“Think I just cracked a rib...” she started, her smile still intact. “But I don’t care because today’s my wedding day! My day is finally here! I’m gonna start getting ready!” She ran back into the room clapping and squealing.

“You know... she might not even notice he’s gone,” Emily shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood.

Tears prickled at your eyes and you put your head in your hands. “She cant start getting ready! This is too awful!”

“Shh!”

“She’ll be in the gown, and then he won’t show up! And she’s gonna have to take off the gown! It’s gonna be so awful-“ You started, panic running through your veins.

“Y/N, stop it! You cant do this out here!” Emily rolled her eyes, pulling you into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just so sad!” You cried, gripping the sink and shaking your head.

“You have got to pull yourself together! JJ cant see you like this or else she’ll know something is wrong!” Emily urged rubbing your shoulder in an effort to calm you down.

“I know, I’m sorry. God, there’s no tissue!” You groaned looking around the sink, “Can you grab me some toilet paper?”

There was no toilet paper either, Emily looked down into the trash can. “Oh... I found some...” She hesitantly reached into the can, pulling out some crumpled toilet paper and handing it to you.

“Thank you, Em,” you sniffled, wiping away your tears, “Can I have another one?”

Emily scratched the back of her head, cringing as she looked down at the trash can again. “Sure...”

She pulled the sleeve of her shirt up before reaching in again, pulling out some more. “Need some floss?” She suggested, shaking it in front of you with her hand.

You ignored her as you continued with your tears, “I just cant imagine what is going to happen if Will doesn’t show up.”

Emily continued to look through the can.

“I mean, she’s gonna be at the wedding waiting for him! And people are gonna be whispering, ‘Oh, that poor girl!’ You know! And then she’ll have to come back here and live all alone,” you shook your head, turning to face the previously steamed wedding dress hanging up on the shower rod.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” you asked, eyes never leaving the beautiful dress that you hoped to see your best friend in later that day.

“There was a pregnancy test in the garbage and it’s positive.”

Your eyes widened as you turned to face Emily and the little stick in her hands.

“JJ’s pregnant.”

Your hand instantly shot up to your mouth.

Emily sighed, “So I guess she won’t be totally alone.”

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

“Can you believe it? JJ’s gonna have a baby!” Emily said in disbelief, “Hey, can this count as her something new?”

You were at a loss for words, this was bad.

“Do you think this is why Will took off?”

You shook your head, biting your nails, “No, she had to of just taken this test. I took out the trash last night.”

Emily looked back down at the little stick, “This is turning into the worst wedding day ever! The bride is pregnant, the groom is missing... and I’m still holding this!” She shuddered as she dropped it back into the trash.

“Em...” you started, meeting her eyes, “we cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Right... yeah. Okay,” she nodded standing up from her spot on the toilet seat, you following her movement to the door.

“Wait do you know what kind’ve birth control she was using?”

“No, why?” you asked.

“Just for the future, this is hardly a commercial for it!” You tried to laugh but nothing came out, you were screwed.

“Anything?” You asked as you walked into Spencer and Morgan’s apartment.

“Nothing! And we looked everywhere!” Garcia groaned from her spot on the couch.

You all shook your head in disbelief, this was a nightmare.

“I am going to kick his ass when I see him! I’m starting to think we don’t really even know this guy! I mean think about it, does anybody else ever really understand him when he’s speaking?” Morgan huffed, looking around for an answer.

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, Derek! He’s just freaking out! We should’ve known this was gonna happen sooner or later!”

Reid sighed in a agreement as he met your eyes, “This is bad, you guys. I don’t know where else we should look.”

You ran your hands through your hair, “We’re gonna have to just tell her that he’s gone!” you said as you turned around to walk towards the door.

Spencer jumped up from his seat, “Y/N, no! We can’t!”

“Spence, she’s gonna start getting ready soon!”

“Cant you at least stall her a little?” He pleaded, walking over towards you. “We can go back to some of the places we went last night!”

You looked up at him, he was grabbing your forearm lightly. You could never say no to those eyes.

“Alright,” you sighed, “...how much time do you need?”

“How much time until she absolutely has to start getting ready?” Derek interrupted.

“One hour.”

“Okay, give us two,” he replied, gathering his things from the counter.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “Then why do you even ask?!”

You all started to walk towards the door. Emily decided to join them, being that they needed all the help they could get. Hotch and Rossi were now in on the plan too and they agreed they should all split up in groups.

“Y/N! There you are!” JJ giggled as she excitedly walked towards you as you entered the apartment. With her cosmetic bag in hand, she sat down at the kitchen table, already spilling out the contents, “So I thought we’d start with my makeup and then do my hair!”

“Okay... uh...” you stammered, “before we do that... I-I need you to talk to me...”

“About what?”

“Um...” you were already cringing at the words about to come out of your mouth.

“I’m never going to get married!” You cried, placing a hand over your face.

JJ rolled her eyes and looked up at you, “Yeah, you will! The right guy is just around the corner... Okay, are we done with that?” she said quickly and continued to look through her makeup bag.

“JJ, I’m serious! Maybe I should just forget about it! I’ll become a lesbian or something...” you rambled on, faking more tears and sitting down next to her, trying to get her attention again.

However, it didn’t work. JJ didn’t even look up at you when she scoffed, “Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

You mentally face palmed. This was getting pathetic, and you couldn’t believe what you were about to say next.

“Maybe it would make me feel better if I just slept with Derek.”

JJ immediately stopped what she was doing and put a hand on your shoulder with wide eyes and a concerned face. “Oh my God, Y/N, are you okay?”

You shook your head quickly and stuffed your face in her shoulder, letting out fake cries.

“What are you doing, man?” Derek huffed as he stood besides Hotch and Penelope in front of Will’s desk at the station.

“I cant believe you guys found me! I knew I should have hid somewhere more secretive!”

Penelope rolled her eyes, “Will! What the hell are you doing?

Will shakily ran a hand through his hair, “Panicking...” he pointed to laptop opened in front of him, “Also trying to prove on the internet that I’m related to JJ.”

The trio was unamused.

Will got the hint quickly and asked, “How is she?”

“She’s fine. She doesn’t know you’re gone,” Hotch spoke up, getting closer to the desk, “and she doesn’t have to know, okay?”

Derek nodded in agreement, “Yeah, come on. We’re going back home-“

“I-I can’t! If I go back, we’re gonna become the LaMontagnes!” Will cut him off, shaking his head, “I can’t be the LaMontagnes!”

“What’s wrong with being the LaMontagnes?” Garcia questioned, clearly not following.

“The LaMontagnes have horrible marriages! All they do is yell and fight, and it never ends up well!”

Hotch, Penelope and Derek looked back at Will, finally understanding. He didn’t talk about it much, but Will and his parents were not close, he was too scarred from what they had put him through growing up to ever reconstruct their relationship.

“Man...” Derek began in an effort to calm him down, “You are nothing like either of your parents! You and JJ would never put each other through anything like that!”

Will thought about it for a second before saying, “I mean, look at Rossi! It’s just been divorce after divorce-“

“Will! Listen to me!” Penelope interrupted walking over to the side of the desk, “Right now, no one has a lower opinion of you than I do... but I totally believe you can do this!”

Will looked at his hands before saying, “I want to. I love her so much. But I’m afraid... this is... too huge.”

“You’re right, it is huge,” Hotch chimed in. He remembered when he was the one getting married and started to sympathize with the nerves of the man in front of him. “Just take it one step at a time. Forget getting married right now, can you just come home and take a shower?”

Morgan nodded in agreement, “Yeah, that’s not scary, right?”

Will slowly started to stand up in agreement and the trio in front of him couldn’t help but smile.

“The nights are the hardest...” you cried, looking down at your hands. JJ rolled her eyes. “But then the day comes... and that’s every bit as hard as the night. Then the night comes again-“

“I get it, okay? The days and nights are both hard!” JJ snapped in frustration. “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry but I have to start getting ready. I am getting married today,” she emphasized.

“I know... at dusk. That’s such a hard time for me.”

JJ stood up, not being able to take anymore of your pity party. “Okay. I’m gonna go put my makeup on. We have to be at the hotel in an hour.”

As she started to walk towards the bathroom you jumped up, “W-wait! Let’s go to lunch!”

“I can’t go to lunch!” She shrieked, running into the bathroom.

You were starting to run out of ideas. Throwing yourself to the floor you yelled, “Oh good God, I’ve fallen down!”

JJ stormed out of the bathroom, crossing her arms and looked at you sprawled out on the floor. “What the hell is going on?”

“Alright, JJ, listen...” you said standing up, feeling the tears ready to spill. “When I tell you what I’m about to tell you I need you to remember we’re all here for you and we all love you.”

JJ’s gaze softened, “Y/N/N, you’re really starting to freak me out...”

You looked down at your shaking hands as you whispered, “We can’t find Will...”

And just like that the door opened to reveal a smiling Emily Prentiss holding two big thumbs up.

“...s vest. We cant find Will’s vest-“

“How can that be are you serious?!” JJ cried.

Emily caught on and shut the door walking towards you two, “Found the vest! Well I mean we have to keep an eye on it. You know, to make sure we don’t lose it again!”

JJ instantly relaxed and started laughing, “Oh, thank God! Don’t scare me like that, okay?”

You both started nervously laughing as she started to walk towards the bathroom to finally do her makeup.

“For a minute there I was like, ‘Oh my God, the worst has happened!’ Phew!”

You and Emily both looked at each other with a sigh of relief.

Derek stood behind Will in the mirror, smoothing down his tux. “See, that wasn’t so scary was it? You put on a tuxedo!”

Will laughed nervously, looking at his reflection, “No... I guess not.”

Spencer smiled, “See, just a little bit at a time.”

“So what‘s the next little bit?”

Derek and Spencer looked nervously at each other, knowing they had to choose their next words very carefully.

“Just uh,” Derek stammered, “Getting married-“

Will let out a girl-like shriek, putting his head in his hands.

“W-woah, relax! You can do it! Just like you’ve done everything else!”

He lifted his head, nodding at Spencer’s words. “You’re right... I can do it. Just excuse me for a minute,” he sighed walking towards the door.

The men shared a skeptical look before Will added, “I’m not gonna run away again! I just need some fresh air.”

The boys reluctantly let Will out of the door and he paced the halls, trying to let all the nerves out. Hearing familiar voices around the corner, Will walked into one of the empty rooms on his left, trying not to be seen. The last thing he needed was to run into JJ in her dress before they were married and ruin this day even more than he almost already did. He soon recognized the voices as Y/N and Emily.

“I just cant believe JJ is pregnant! We gotta make sure we don’t say that too loud in here, you know they frown on that,” Emily said, referring to the church.

Pregnant?! How could it be? They used protection every single time?

All Will could hear was your humorless chuckles and wordless responses to what Emily was saying.

When your voices were gone, he popped his panicked head out of the door and started pacing the other way.

“Hey...” Derek nervously laughed as he entered the bridal suite. He was met with the eyes of JJ’s family members and gave them all a quick wave. “Have any of you seen Will?”

Penelope was fixing her hair in the mirror and quickly turned around, “I thought he was with you!”

Suddenly everyone’s attention was on Derek. “Well... he was,” he awkwardly looked around. “We’re playing a game of hide and seek.”

Penelope’s shoulders relaxed, “Well you can’t ask us, Chocolate Thunder! That’s cheating!” She turned back around scoffing, to continue pulling at little pieces of hair to frame her face. The rest of the room was clearly uncomfortable.

Derek gritted his teeth, “You’re right. Thanks for keeping me honest, Babygirl...” he smiled at the rest of JJ’s family, trying to make sure they didn’t suspect anything.

Walking towards Penelope to tell her Will was actually missing, he immediately came to a halt as JJ and Emily walked in the room.

“JJ, you look beautiful,” he smiled, giving her a hug.

She hugged him tightly and thanked him before asking, “How’s Will?”

Derek paused.

“Great. He’s doing great. Don’t you worry about Will!” he nervously chuckled before turning his attention back to the other side of the room. “Penelope, Emily, will you help me with something outside?”

The girls nodded and followed him out, Penelope closing the door behind them.

“Will is gone again!”

“Oh my God!” Penelope cried, “Why would you play hide and seek with someone you know is a flight risk!”

Derek rolled his eyes before turning his head and seeing the man of the hour walking with a small gift bag.

“Hey- There he is!”

“What-“

Without thinking Derek sprinted towards the man, tackling him on the floor. “You’re not getting away this time-“

“What are you talking about- I’m not trying to leave! I-I know about JJ.” He groaned, pushing Morgan off of him and standing up.

“You know?” Emily asked in disbelief.

“Know what?” Garcia chimed in, matching Derek’s expression of confusion.

“I heard you and Y/N talking...” Will answered.

“Talking about what?” questioned Derek, looking around confusingly.

“Oh my God... You know.” Emily whispered.

“Can someone tell us what the hell is going on right now-“ Penelope exclaimed.

“JJ’s pregnant.”

The pair looked at each other in shock, and broke out in smiles as Will pulled out a tiny onesie.

“Anything this tiny can’t be so scary.”

The ceremony had begun and all the guests had taken their seats. Rossi took his rightful spot in the center, being that he would be the one to officiate the wedding. Will was accompanied by his parents down the aisle and one after the other, the bridesmaids and the groomsman met in the middle and followed. It went Emily and Hotch, Derek and Penelope and then it was time for you to meet Spencer. It was the first time you had seen each other dressed up. The day had been so hectic you hadn’t had the chance to run into one another. He looked handsome in his suit, his hair so perfectly messy, and it took everything in you to not sprint over to him and run your hands through it.

Spencer was speechless, He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you walking towards him to meet in the aisle. You looked gorgeous in your light blue bridesmaid dress that hugged you perfectly. Your hair was pulled back on the sides, a few pieces hanging and your makeup was elegantly placed, highlighting all the features he loved.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you met up and linked arms. The blush spread through your cheeks like a wildfire and you prayed the camera couldn’t pick it up.

“Thank you,” you whispered back. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

As it came time to part from him, you slowly unlinked your arms and walked to your respective sides, but not before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled at that.

JJ had walked out and tears were brought to not only Will’s eyes, but everyone else’s. She looked gorgeous and you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic for her as you knew she had been waiting for this moment her whole life.

Rossi had soon announced them husband and wife and everyone had cheered as they kissed one another. It was truly a moment of bliss.

“I love you,” Will whispered while cupping JJ’s cheek, “and I know about the baby too.”

“What baby?” JJ laughed.

“Our baby.”

“We have a baby?”

“Emily found your pregnancy test in the bathroom-“

JJ looked at him confused, “I didn’t take a pregnancy test...”

“Then who did?”

You, Emily and Penelope stared at the two in awe.

“Just look at them, they’re so happy.” Emily gushed.

“And they’re gonna have a baby!” Penelope smiled.

You nodded nervously, the wave of nausea hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Wait- Penelope knows now too?!”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds au #friends #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds friends au

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mysmegrace · 3 years

Note

can i pls request the rfa comforting mc bc she is really stressed because of school (they find her crying because something a teacher said to her)

hello anon! of course! we've all been there and i know how overwhelming it is. if this is happening to you and you wanna chat, i'm always open <3 btw i'm gonna write the mc as a college student because of the romantic nature of this fic. if you would like another fic that has all the rfa members together helping you platonically, feel free to ask! stay safe <3

RFA Comforting an MC that is Stressed because of School

---

yoosung kim:

today was a tough one to say the least.

you were up until 2am last night doing an excessive amount of homework only for the professor to put you down for a few questions you got wrong.

as you laid in your bed looking out the window besides you, your mind keep replaying the scene over and over again.

almost like it wanted to torture you.

the professor piercing through your soul with the rage he held in his eyes.

the degrading words he spewed at you, calling you every insult in the book.

and worst of all, he did it in front of everybody.

you have never felt so embarrassed.

these replaying memories made you cuddle up with your bundled blanket and simply start to sob.

you couldn't understand why people were so cruel sometimes.

little to your knowledge, yoosung was planning a date night out to celebrate your 100th day anniversary.

the professor had got you so upset that you forgot about the occasion.

so low and below, 15 minutes into your sob session was when yoosung came in unexpectedly.

the flowers he carried in his hand quickly dropped.

he ran to your sobbing figure and gave you an awkward hug from behind.

that was when you came to your senses and shot right up.

he looked at you like he had just seen a ghost.

his forehead written with concern.

your tired red eyes were a clear giveaway of your upset state.

there was no way you were covering this up.

yet you couldn't continue holding back your tears in front of him.

so he brought you to his chest as you sobbed for the second time tonight.

throughout your cries, you were explaining what the day has done to you.

how the professor belittled you to the point you had been on the verge of crying yourself to sleep.

yoosung listened closely, rubbing your back while you got it all out.

he decided that the date night could wait, and he would dedicate these nightly hours to comforting you.

he give you many reassurances throughout your time together.

he always validated your feelings.

he always looked at you with intense love and care.

he always told you how smart and stunning you are.

his actions made you cheer up a bit.

you were still on edge, but you knew it would get better eventually.

everything would turn out okay with this man by your side.

hyun ryu / zen:

you were only on the bus coming home, but your tears already started to flow.

the professor made a complete mockery out of you.

you felt hurt to your core.

he insulted everything about you, completely going off.

at first, you figured he had a bad day and was just finding someone to let it out on.

but as the insults kept spewing, they became incredibly more personal.

nothing was safe.

the way your nose crunched when you smiled was "ugly".

the sweet tone of your speaking was deemed "annoying".

the way your hair bounced when you walked was seen as "repulsive".

nobody had hurt you so much and your mind couldn't cope with it.

through silent tears on the bus, as you reached your stop you stopped them within an instant.

zen would be waiting for you at home.

the last thing you wanted to do was make him worried about you with the addition of his insanely busy day.

repressing the tears, you eventually made it to the front door of your now shared home.

the door sounded when you arrived, alerting zen as he went to meet you at the doorframe.

you pulled out your most convincing fake smile and greeted him.

but you could tell when the mix of confusion and concern flashed over his face.

apparently your eyes had given you away.

but you didn't remember them being puffy or red.

however, zen knows you like the back of his hand.

like the soulmate he was, he could read your soul through your eyes.

he embraced you and encouraged you to tell him what was wrong.

but you wouldn't budge.

he gently tried again, but to no avail.

lost on what to do, he embraced you again.

but this time, he wasn't letting go.

and that was enough to make the tears start pouring out.

you were both standing in silence.

the only sounds bouncing off the walls were those of your tearing cries.

once you had calmed down a bit, he calmly asked you what happened.

and when you explained, his body filled with rage.

who let the professor be so rude to you??

in true zen fashion, his first instinct was to reprimanded the teacher face to face.

the sound of your next cry made him rethink his protentional course of action.

you were right here in front of him, so broken and hurt.

you were his first priority, not mr. dumbfuck.

and out came the words that always made you feel so loved and protected.

he reminded you of your beauty and his love towards you.

he had seen you as a goddess for the time since he's met you.

your evening was very laidback after the ordeal.

tonight would be focused on you.

jaehee kang:

you had been sitting up at your computer with the event that tore you down so significantly in the back of your head.

you couldn't take it anymore.

how could a person be so rude because of a simple mistake?

however, you couldn't just cry right here right now.

your love was sitting beside you afterall.

so you ever so subtly left the room.

you felt so numb while walking to the only room the insured complete privacy in the apartment.

or so you thought.

closing the door behind you, you were met with the reflection of your face.

the one he had broke apart and shattered.

you started to cry uncontrollably.

you watched as your eyes turned visibly irritated, your mouth turned downwards ever so slightly.

you felt so numb inside, yet the gem-like tear that rolled down your cheek was a reminder of your living form.

the noise leaving your mouth wasn't loud.

but it wasn't quiet.

however, it was enough for jaehee to hear.

confused, she left her chair.

the sharp pain in her shoulder was a reminder for her to get up and stretch a bit.

following the tears, her feet met the bottom of the washroom door.

knocking softly, waiting for an answer.

yet nothing but the crying noises rang out.

so she tried again, calling your name in the softest tone she could produce.

you heard.

and you were now in a state of panic.

how would you explain this to her?

you didn't want to get her involved or worried over you.

but you knew you eventually had to come forward to her face to face.

hesitantly, you opened the door.

just a crack.

not enough to expose the entirety of your broken face, but enough to make subtle eye contact.

your efforts were short lived.

she took the door, moving it open to see you fully a few seconds later.

her first thought was to hug you, hence the tight embrace you quickly found yourself in.

you couldn't hold it back any longer.

so you remained in her arms crying for the next couple of minutes.

not long after, you started spilling out the entire story.

she was enraged alongside you.

but, being more rational, she knew there was nothing much she could do about it.

so she just listened and understood you.

she validated your emotions, making sure you knew you weren't going crazy and that it was okay to feel upset.

eventually, you find yourselves on the washroom floor.

sitting together, basking in each others love.

your worries were washed away by the woman you would continue to love as long as your life allowed you to.

jumin han:

your soon to be husband was waiting for your presence with a bottle of wine to share for the evening.

the only thing he was waiting to be finished was your class.

he felt at peace knowing his private driver would be picking you up safely.

what he hadn't expected however, was the message he was given by the driver.

on the way to jumin's penthouse, the driver had quickly sent jumin a text.

the text read "i'm texting to briefly let you aware of mc's status. mc appears to be healthy but in an emotional state. i suggest you have tissues prepared for her."

you, on the other hand, had been getting ready to hide your upset state.

you knew the man jumin was.

he would have the professor fired as soon as he heard of the disgusting things he had said to you.

you were never one to escalate things to that extent.

you would rather let both parties go on with their lives.

plus jumin's schedule was stressful enough already.

you didn't want to add onto that.

so with your lines to convince jumin that you were alright, you got out of the car, swiftly heading up to the penthouse.

he greeted you with a sad expression.

almost as if he was prepared to be upset with you.

you gave a confused look, trying to convince him that sadness wasn't even on your mind.

his hand reached out to you, containing a tissue.

you, still giving off the vibe of "i'm not upset", pushed his hand back gently.

now it was his turn to be confused.

only his was genuine.

the tears were building up in your eyes.

"fuck, not now" you thought.

his hand reached out again, questioning you.

you couldn't hold up anymore and gave up on hiding it.

taking the tissue, you started balling your eyes out.

rambling words about your feelings towards what the professor said.

how he had brought your very existence down to nothing but dirt.

jumin was listening, but planning what he could do to the professor at the same time.

this behaviour was simply unacceptable.

you couldn't convince him otherwise.

but in the meanwhile, he was determined to comfort the crying beauty in front of him.

much like everyone else, he reassured you of everything.

you would never hear the end of it from him when it came to how talented and gorgeous you were.

and it didn't matter what anyone else said.

as long as he was by your side, you would survive.

it would be okay.

the rest of the night consisted of the constant reminder of your worth.

from sun rise to sun set, he would never look at another woman the way he did you.

saeyoung choi:

in some ways, online classes were harder than in person.

sure, online you could get away with cheating easier (though you were never like that), you could take naps comfortably in between classes, you wouldn’t have to get dressed.

looking at it like that, it doesn’t seem so bad.

unfortunately that was not the case for you.

your professor used this as an opportunity to diminish you to your core.

he would send you private messages talking about how stupid you were, how you failed in every possible way.

even going as far as saying you were a waste of space in the classroom.

that someone much better could’ve taken your place.

and all of that made online learning incredibly hard for you.

you would participate in classes from the side of your bed.

saeyoung laying right besides you, listening in like the goof he is.

even going as far as to help you.

today though, the professor got extremely bold.

he had moved from sending private messages to spewing hatred in front of the entire class.

and saeyoung heard all of it.

he reached over to your laptop and exited out of the classroom.

he didn’t want to listen to you endure that any longer.

at first, it looked like his words didn’t bother you.

perhaps you were used to it at this point.

but once saeyoung asked if you were okay, you couldn’t control the tears starting to run down your face.

you were so tired of being treated like shit, and saeyoung completely understood.

he was baffled that a professor would say something so cruel out in the open.

you two laid there in silence, a peaceful silence.

you explained how this had been happening for a long time.

however, you just wanted to get over it.

you went on with your day, but saeyoung could tell that it still bothered you.

so he did what he does best.

with a little bit of this and a little bit of that, you meet a new professor the next day.

he announced how he was taking the place of the previous professor after he had lost his job.

you turned behind you with a shocked smile, and saw the man you loved smirking like a child.

god you loved him.

#mysticmessenger juminhan jumin mysmejumin #mysme headcanons #jaehee kang #hyun ryu #yoosung kim #saeyoung choi #mysme imagines

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katsuukiwii · 3 years

Note

OMG FROM THE ABO PROMPT LIST PLS: either "i'm not a threat, see? i'll bare my throat and everything" or "i ran these sheets through the dryer for you to nest in" 🥺👉👈

“Family Nesting!” Alpha!Dad!Levi X Omega!Mom!Reader Contains: A/B/O Dynamics

Came from this A/B/O Prompt List

OTHER A/B/O Prompt List

I will probably write the other prompt as well, I will make sure to tag you in it ^^

Levi pauses in the middle of the market, feeling the familiar mark left from his girlfriend, now wife, aching. Of course, having been mated for about five years, he knows that means she is in distress. Not long after, he gets a text.

(Y/N) (3:17pm)

You’ve been gone a while, are you

guys okay? Come home soon,

I’m nervous with nobody here

Levi (3:17pm)

We’re good. We’ll be home asap

(Y/N) (3:18pm)

Thank you

Levi looks down at his 4 year old daughter, Peyton, “Hey, sweetheart, your mother is nervous being alone, so I want you to talk to her while I grab everything else.” He hands Peyton the phone, brushing his hand over the fuzzy ears that sat on her head, letting her call her mother. Levi was thankful that she could call (Y/N) by herself, considering it wasn’t easy having an Omega mate when you work so much. This way she could still feel somewhat comforted knowing her family was safe. Of course, (Y/N) answers immediately while Levi listens to his baby girl talk, unable to hear what his wife is saying. Luckily, it sounded like things were going well, so he continued to push the cart around that store, their set of 8 month old twins, Kuchel and Malachi, both sitting in the cart, staring in confusion, noticing their father’s worried state.

…

Levi opens the door, sitting Peyton down, his head perking up at his mates scent. But the scent wasn’t the usual scent of strawberries and chocolate, it smelled like something was burning. Kuchel and Malachi notice this, starting to cry, thinking that their mother was in trouble. Levi rushes around the house, his scent expelling from him in heavy waves, trying to comfort the distressed omega, his instincts are screaming at him to tear the place apart until he finds his mate, but he holds back, choosing not to scare his pups.

All of a sudden he hears a whimper, whipping his head around, seeing (Y/N) peeking her head out from a secret door in the wall, he should’ve known she’d be there. He rushes over to her, kneeling down with Peyton standing next to him, and both children strapped onto his chest and back safely with carriers.

“Baby, everything’s fine, we're all okay.” He quickly takes both babies out of the carriers, setting them with their mother and following, making sure everybody is in before him. Immediately upon crawling in, he notices a large bundle of blankets, pillows, and clothes, the nest consisting mostly of Levi’s items, though he notices some of the children's blankets. He sighs, glancing down at the woman who had her face buried into his throat, inhaling the smell of whiskey and pine. He croons, the soft rumbling of his chest causing (Y/N) to let out a small purr.

After a few blissful moments, he moves away, grabbing a few of the blankets and stepping out, he stops, tugging at the blankets harder when you grab them, “Where are you going?” He looks at you, pouting and the sad look on your face, “I’ll be right back, my love. You still have the pups, it shouldn’t take longer than...maybe seven minutes, okay?” You nod, reluctantly letting go of the blankets and crawling back into your small hideout. Levi rushes across the house, opening the dryer and tossing the blankets in, staying there for about five minutes until he takes them out, grabbing some snacks, running back and opening the door.

“Alpha,” he gives you a soft smile. You rarely call him that unless you’re extremely stressed, so he decides to greet you in the same way, “Hi, Omega. Come here?” He makes you hop out of the nest, then he places the now warm blankets around, “Here, hun. I ran the blankets in the dryer so they’ll be nice and warm for you to nest around in.” Your face lights up, gently pulling your pups into the heated nest with you, followed by Levi getting in, laying next to you and setting the snacks down, he starts crooning once more, letting his family curl up on him, helping the twins into their mother’s lap. He strokes your ears softly, pressing small kisses onto your face as you finally start to calm down. The family stayed there for a while, talking about whatever came to mind and eating snacks until they eventually fell asleep. This little family meant the whole world to Levi.

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

Black Magic Girl

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

The request:

PLS! I have this request I was thinking about for a while and it’s like te reader is a witch that casts a spell on Peter, it’s kind of like a truth spell that also lowers inhibitions, and he literally ravishes her because of it cause he’s wanted her since he first met her and now he literally cannot control himself.

And:

I have read so many Peter Parker fanfics but the one I want soooo badly is where Peter Parker gets suuper dominant. Do you think you could write it? Pleaseeee 🌸

MY MASTERLIST

"Got me so blind I can't see

That she's a black magic woman

And she's tryin' to make a devil out of me"

- Black magic woman, Fleetwood Mac.

"Peter? Peter…" Your voice reached him like through a haze, or like he was underwater, your increasingly frantic tone cutting through the fog inside his head. "Please, Peter, please just… just open your eyes…"

He didn't want to, he truly didn't want to, his head was killing him and his stomach felt queasy. Almost as if he was hungover, but that wasn't possible.

"Ow… ouch…"

"Oh, thank the gods!" You almost sobbed in relief as his eyes fluttered open. He was ok. You helped him sit up on the floor, and he smiled, a little loopilly, at you.

"Hey…" He greeted, leaning heavily on you, so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face, "Wha- what happened?"

Peter frowned, taking a look around the interrogation room: the metal table, chairs and even the prisoner were overturned and laying messily around the both of you.

You flinched,

"I was trying to cast a spell…"

Oh, yeah, the spell, he remembered now. The herbs, the chanting, the rose-gold light.

"The truth spell," He recalled, "You were trying to cast a truth spell, for- for the asgardian dude…"

"Yeah…"

"What happened?"

You sighed,

"It kinda… exploded I guess"

"Kid! Are you alright?" Tony and Steve came running from the hallway, no doubt having seen the whole thing through the security cameras.

"Fine, Mr. Stark," He stood, steadying himself with your help, "just a little dizzy"

"What about you, doll, you ok?" Steve hovered over you and you could swear a soft growl vibrated in Peter's chest "This is our fault, I knew we shouldn't have let you try this alone"

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, it was always like that with the Captain, he was always babying you, underestimating you. You hated it.

"I'm fine"

"But the spell backfired, it-"

"No… I don't think it did" You interrupted him, "I mean, it didn't hit me, it didn't knock me back like…" You trailed off. Like it had done everything else .

"Woah, Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good" Peter stumbled, both you and Tony holding him to stop him from falling face first on the floor.

"Kiddo, what is it? Talk to me"

Peter babbled intelligibly. You cursed.

"What? What is going on, y/n?" Tony questioned, visibly worried, ignoring Steve's automatic language protest.

"I-I think it worked. His pupils are dilated, we need to take him to the med bay, fast!"

"Why? I mean it's just a truth spell…"

"It's not just any truth spell" You snapped, "It's like… like a gallon of alcohol all at once, it loosens your tongue by lowering your inhibitions to the point of nonexistence! You tell the truth because the filter between your brain and your mouth disappears!"

Peter looked positively green now,

"Oh, shit! Take me to the med bay, take me to the med bay NOW! Mr. Stark, please!"

Tony's eyes flickered between you and his protege's terrified face, he knew exactly what Peter was afraid to tell you.

And he actually thought it was about time.

"Sorry, underoos, prisoner is waking up, we have to start this interrogation right away" he apologized, sounding anything but sorry, "but you can walk, it's not that far, you can lock yourself there until the effect wears out."

"Oh, princess, go with him, would ya? Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble on the way" Tony added as an afterthought. You nodded and took Peter's arm as you guided him out of the room, none of you paying any mind to the super soldiers protests.

"Please, you don't have to do this" Peter tried to disentangle from you once you were far enough from the older Avengers ears, "I- I can make it to the bay by myself"

You scoffed,

"Is that true?"

"No, I just wanna get away from you fast" Peter blurted out. You stopped dead in your tracks.

"What? Why?" You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, you really did.

"Because" His breathy voice in your ear sent an unexpected shiver down your spine as he leaned even closer, putting more of his weight on you, "I don't trust myself near you right now"

You gulped. There was something in his voice, something you couldn't put your finger on. Something primal, almost dark. The shift in him was so sudden it left you stunned, dazed.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean it takes me a lot of self control to keep myself away from you" He explained, between gritted teeth, the struggle clear in his tone, "and I can feel that control slip away… I don't know… how much longer can I keep it together"

You turned to meet his eyes and you found them darkened with lust, with barely contained desire.

"What if… what if I don't want you to stay away from me?"

A helpless noise left his throat, a wordless surrender, as his will finally broke, as he crushed his lips to yours. He nibbled at your lower lip before licking it, before coaxing your mouth open with his tongue. You felt your body come alive, every nerve ending screaming for more, more of the taste of his tongue, more of his body against yours. You snaked your arms around his neck and felt his twist around your waist, one hand splayed on your back, pressing you closer. He started pushing you, walking you back, but instead of hitting the wall like you expected, you both kept moving. It wasn't until the back of your thighs collided with a metal table that you realized he had guided you into another interrogation room.

You grabbed onto the table to stop from falling back on it, and Peter took advantage of that to shove his pelvis against yours, forcing you to sit on it as he stepped between your legs. You gasped for air as he released your lips. He disentangled one arm from around your back. You heard, more than saw, the spider webs that closed and locked the door; you hadn't noticed he was still wearing his web-shooters under his black stealth suit. Another hiss, and the security camera was out.

"Peter… what are you doing?"

He ignored your question, capturing your lips again, pressing himself harder against you, his erection against your center making what was on his mind perfectly clear.

You pushed at his chest until he freed your mouth,

"Peter, wait, we can't" You tried to reason as his lips traced their way down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, undoubtedly leaving marks. "You're under a spell, this isn't you!"

"But it is me" He contended, catching your hands in a vice-like grip, "I wanted you for so long… and you want me to, I know it. I can smell it on you" He whispered the last part against your lips, tongue peeking out to lick at the corner of your mouth.

"Wh-why didn't you…" You tried to focus your swimming head enough to make sense, "You never said anything"

Peter was on you again, kissing you with a ferocity you would have never believed the sweet boy capable of.

"I couldn't" He grunted, when he finally broke the kiss, "you're their little girl. The baby of the group. Their innocent little princess, who can do no wrong…" He shook his head, "And the things I wanted to do you. That I still want to do to you…"

You bristled at his words, you weren't even the youngest one. Peter was, actually. And he was twenty-three. If he was treated like an adult you didn't see why you shouldn't be. You wanted Peter to fuck you, not to put you on a pedestal.

You met his eyes, almost defiant.

"I'm not that innocent"

He licked his lips,

"Aren't you?"

You shook your head no,

"Show me" You demanded, "Show me what you've been dreaming of"

Peter smirked, grabbing your chin almost painfully,

"Ask me nicely"

"Please"

That was all it took, one word and he was unleashed, taking your hands and tying them at your back with another swoosh of his web-shooter, ripping open your plain white blouse, tiny pearly buttons flying everywhere. He buched it around your tied wrists, before taking a step back, admiring his work.

"I fantasized about this," He confessed, "every time we worked together at the lab: You, sitting pretty on the worktable, all tied up for me…" his eyes never left you, you flushed chest, your nipples hard behind your lacy pink bra, as he placed his palms on your knees, slowly sliding them up, "About slipping my hands under this ppretty pink skirt…" his thumbs met above your cotton covered crotch and he pressed, the fabric quickly becoming damp.

A soft moan left your lips as he rubbed up and down your slit. But it was muffled by a sticky substance suddenly covering your lips.

Peter chuckled at the dirty look you threw him. He lowered his head, breath hot on your breasts,

"I dreamed about gagging you up so they wouldn't hear your moans as I…" He brought his tongue out to lick one pebbled nipple above the coarse lace, "Yeah, just like that" He praised the muted noise you made, before bringing his hands to your chest, ripping the flimsy fabric from your body like paper scraps and really diving in, sucking and biting and bruising. He wasn't being delicate with you, he wasn't coddling you and treating you like you were about to break like everybody else. And you loved it.

He bit down on the swell of your breast and you looked down, surprised to see he hadn't drawn blood. He soothed the hurt with his tongue, looking up at you. You were gorgeous, all caught up in his webs, breathing hard and glossy eyed, already looking ravished.

He stood to whisper in your ear, as his fingers tugged your underwear to the side,

"I pictured burying my hard cock between your legs..." two long fingers breached your entrance and you let your head fell on his shoulder, "Over… and over… and over…" he punctuated every word with a sharp thrust of his fingers in and out of you, and suddenly you were glad he had gagged you. Otherwise you were sure everyone in the compound would have heard your wantom moans.

His thumb found your clit and your head fell back again and Peter took the chance to lift your skirt. The vision of his fingers glistening with your juices, gliding in and out of your pussy half covered by your white cotton panties, tableau vivant of your defiled innocence was too much for him. He took his hands off you, opening his fly and lowering his boxers just far enough to free his hard, throbbing member, impaling you in one go. You tried to get away from the sudden intrusion on instinct, he was way too thick, way too long. But he hooked his hands behind your bended knees, pulling you forward, farther down his oversized cock.

"Oh no baby," He scolded, "good sluts take what is given to them" his crass language made you shiver, and he smirked, "Don't you want to be my good little slut?"

You nodded, and his expression softened, as he snaked a hand around your back, bringing you closer, cock sinking into you deeper, inch by painfully delicious inch. Once he was buried to the hilt, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"You did so good, baby girl. I knew you could take it all." His praise warmed your insides, and you relaxed into his embrace.

"Can you still make sparks with your hands tied like this?"

His question struck you as odd, but you concentrated in creating the flickers anyway, a shower of pretty lights all the answer you were able to give him.

"Good baby girl. I know I should have told you this before, but if you ever need me to stop or I do something you don't like, make red sparkles and I promise I'll stop"

You nodded your head, and he kissed you again, slowly starting to move his hips, dragging his cock almost all the way out, only to push his way back in, a little harder, a little faster every time.

"Oh baby girl… feels so good…" He moaned, "knew this would be… the best pussy I ever had"

You leaned back, bracing yourself on your bounded hands behind you, opening your legs wider, offering yourself to him.

"Yeah, like that… you like this, don't you? Like me fucking you… but sluts like it hard… and fast"

You made a noise of agreement, and he picked up his pace, hips driving into you, cock stabbing into you with no mercy. The pornographic wet sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating in the soundproof room, the sight of your pussy, juicy and red, swallowing his dick over and over… Fuck, he could see himself moving inside you, your skin rippling with every thrust, every intrusion of his massive cock. He was close, and you were too, he could tell by the way you were tensing up, the explosion imminent. But he wanted you debased, he wanted you desperate. He wanted you begging for it, begging for him.

He wanted to ruin you.

He slipped out of you, taking a step back, leaving you empty just as you were about to fall over the edge. He chuckled darkly at your stifled cry of protest, wrapping his hand around himself, pumping it up and down his length.

You looked thoroughly wrecked: cunt fucked open, hair a mess, clothes hanging in rags around your frame. So fucking beautiful and obscene, that only a handful of strokes later, and he was painting your chest on white ribbons, marking you with his come. He grabbed your chin again, lips pressing to your webbed ones and somehow, that felt dirtier than everything he had done to you so far.

You sobbed into the kiss.

"What is it baby girl?" He cooed, fingers delicately pushing your hair away from your sweat covered forehead. "You want to come?"

You nodded frantically. Peter applied something to your lips, dissolving the webbing. He took a step back.

"Show me how much you want it"

You didn't need to be told twice, jumping from the table and falling to your knees in front of him. You made eye contact as you nuzzled his length, and saw his sharp intake of breath. You hid your smile at his little display of weakness, at the small crack of his façade of dominance.

"You know how to do this?"

You scoffed,

"I'm not a virgin!"

"I know you aren't" He cupped your face, and you twisted to capture his thumb into your mouth, "You truly aren't that innocent, are you?"

You shook your head no, releasing his digit with a pop.

"Show me how dirty you are baby girl"

A new challenging look shone in your eyes,

"As dirty as you dare to make me. Use me, Peter. Fuck my face, please"

Fuck.

He was hallucinating, he had to be. Years of watching porn, of daydreaming of you and the filthiest fantasies his brain could come up with hadn't prepared him for this, for the reality of you on your knees for him, asking him to…

Fuck!

He caressed your cheek, his other hand tangling on your hair, angling your head just so. Your lips fell open and he entered your mouth, far slower than he had entered you. He had to take it slow, otherwise he wasn't going to last, not with you still staring up at him, angelic doe eyes bright and big and adoring. He started rocking his hips, withdrawing only to surge back, a little deeper each time. You tried to suppress your gag reflex, but every time your throat constricted around him it only seemed to spur him on. Breathing was becoming hard and your eyes started to glisten with unshed tears.

"You look… so beautiful… choking on my cock" His words were strained, as you tried to massage his shaft with your tongue to the best of your abilities, drool dripping down your chin. "Prettiest little slut… ever"

You hummed, pleased, and the vibrations got him cursing out loud. He would have liked to enjoy that sinful mouth of yours longer, but he could feel the rise building again, and this time he didn't want to waste it. He had to come inside you, show you who you belonged to.

He slipped out and helped you stand, massaging your jaw and cheeks with his fingertips, before pulling you close for another earth shattering kiss. You melted into it, into him. The feeling of his clothed body against your naked skin got you reeling.

"Please" You gasped into his mouth, "Peter… please"

"God, baby girl, you beg so pretty!" He turned you around, bending you over the table. The cold metal felt delicious against your fevered skin. You felt him move behind you, flipping your skirt over your back, rolling your ruined panties down your thighs. Not being able to see him, not knowing what would come next, made it all the more exciting, your body trembling with anticipation.

His rough palms grazed your ass, grabbing handfuls of your globes, spreading them apart.

"Fuck, baby girl, you're pretty everywhere…"

One of his hands left you as he guided his cock between your folds. He felt even bigger like this, his girth stretching you in all the good ways. You were so wet that he had no problem building up a fast rhythm right away, his cock gliding in and out smoothly, your body offering no resistance as he laid it into you hard, taking hold of your bound hands for leverage, easily moving you to meet his implacable thrusts, fucking you mercilessly.

You bit your lips, trying to reign in your moans and sobs.

"Oh no, baby girl… let me hear you… let them hear you"

You were to lost in the pleasure he was inflicting upon you to be able to form a coherent question but he must have sense your confusion, because he explained,

"The cap has a crush on you... did you know that?.. He hates it… makes him feel like a dirty old man" He leaned over your back, to place a filthy lick up the side of your neck, his punishing pace never faltering, "What would he say if he saw you like this… covered in my cum, moaning like a slut, taking my cock… God you take me so well, baby girl" it was him the one moaning the end of his sentence out.

To his surprise, you giggled,

"Oh god… he would have a heart attack!"

"You don't- don't care?"

You started moving with him, fucking yourself back on his cock,

"Rather be your cockslut… than his princess"

Peter growled, and suddenly he was on your back, his weight pinning you down. If you thought he was fucking you hard before, it was nothing compared with the pistoning of his hips now, as one of his hands fisted in your hair, turning your head so he could attack your mouth with his, and the other slid underneath you, finding your clit, rubing it in quick short strokes, almost painfully. The heat became almost unbearable, the coil tightening fast, your toes curling. You couldn't breath, trapped as you were under the onslaught of his cock on your already abused pussy, filling you over and over, owning you.

"Yes! Like that, give it to me baby girl… I can feel you coming… who's the one that's making you come?"

"You!"

"Say my name" He demanded, lifting you from your feet under the power of his thrusts, "who's the only one who fucks you like this?"

"You are, Peter!" You cried as your orgasm exploded. But he didn't stop, couldn't stop, not when he could feel your walls starting to squeeze him again, thight, so thight stars were exploding behind his eyelids.

"Louder, scream for me, baby girl!"

It was too much, his cock impaling you so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs, the cruel pleasure setting every nerve ending on fire, his moans and groans in your ear as he used your body ruthlessly and unforgiving, the new climax crashing on you, stronger and more intense that the first one.

"PETER!" You heard yourself scream, felt his hot seed deep inside you… Right before the world went black.

…

The next morning, you woke up in a bed that wasn't yours, wrapped in arms that cradled you like you were something precious, and fragile, but for the first time, you didn't mind. You vaguely recalled the soft cotton of your ruined top cleaning the mess between your legs, Peter's bare chest as he dressed you in his own t-shirt to preserve your modesty. As he gathered you close, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. But you did remember the hot bath, your back to his chest, nested between his legs, hands exploring, caressing, soothing marks and bruised spots.

And you remember the love making, the both of you insatiable now that you finally had the other in your arms. The tender promises exchanged in the sacred darkness before sunrise.

Needless to say, you were in a good mood, not even Tony sending knowing looks your way, and Steve, avoiding looking at you and Peter altogether could sour your mood. They didn't matter. Or rather, Steve didn't matter. He was in love with his own version of you, with this image he had created in his head and you weren't sorry to shatter it to pieces. Tony was Tony, and you knew he was happy for his protegee.

It wasn't until you got inside your own lab (if you could call that the half greenhouse, half library), that your mood was shaken.

"Master!" You froze in the doorway as you saw your mentor, leaning back casually against one of the tables, looking at something on his Starkpad, "You- you're back early! I thought the council was still-"

"Those old hags are still arguing with each other" He interrupted your anxious greeting, "I grew bored of them. But now I am thoroughly entertained"

You knew it was your turn to talk, to ask what was it he found so interesting. But your words died in your throat. Your hands started to sweat, and you dried them on the skirt of your pretty pink sundress. Peter had been very insistent: Only skirts and dresses from now on, he wanted you ready for him anywhere, anytime. You felt yourself heat up and tried to get a grip; this wasn't the place, nor the time for such thoughts.

Loki finally raised his gaze from the screen, blue eyes piercing through you.

"Tony asked me to take a look at this footage, find where you went wrong and correct you" he snorted, "As if I need his input in how to best train my apprentice…"

He motioned to you to come closer, playing the video again for you.

"Do you want to know what I found, my little enchantress?"

You didn't reply. You didn't have to, anyway. He didn't need it to continue.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Your work was flawless, as usual"

You dared a smile,

"Thank you, master"

He smiled back, amused, and you breathed in relief as you realized, he wasn't mad at you. He was pleased by you. "It does beg the question, why did your spell explode?"

Your smile turned into a smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Because I wanted it to, of course"

He laughed, boisterous and loud and for a second, he reminded you of his brother. He was delighted, not because you had finally caught your little spider in a web of your own weaving, he couldn't care less about the boy. No, he was pleased that you had, at last, started following his advice, the one he had given you so long ago, one night you had come to him frustrated to tears, after the Avengers had refused yet again to take you into a mission with them, leaving you to paperwork and babysitting.

"I almost preferred it when they were afraid of me! At least back then they respected me…"

Loki had tsked,

"Oh, no, none of that! Always let them underestimate you, my little enchantress. Let them think you're the delicate flower in their garden, but be the serpent under it "

… And what a charming little serpent you were .

The end.

Buy me a coffee

#peter parker #reader #smut #spider man #spiderman #tom holland #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x reader fanfic #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #dom!peter parker #peter parker reader smut #tom hollqnd reader smut #peter parker hot

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commanderserwin · 4 years

Text

heart says?

pairings: levi ackerman x reader

genre: modern AU; angst & fluff

request: Could u do a angsty fluff love triangle story pls? + I’m the love triangle anon and could you do it with Levi please? Like another male/female character it’s up to u but it’s ultimately ends up being Levi and reader? 🥰🥰🥰

a/n: here you go! i made it into a whole scenario so i hope this is okay! enjoy and thank you! ♡

It’s very flattering.

But it made you so guilty and confused because you didn’t want to break another’s heart. It wasn’t suppose to happen, being stuck in a confusing pile of love with two choices between them. It’s very flattering but it’s very confusing.

One is a friend. The other is a great friend.

By great, it means thinking of doing things usual friend wouldn’t do. Be it kissing, cuddling, sex— but not all that. It was their affection that you craved. The lingering looks. The subtle touches. The words that reassures you. The more time spent together, because you wanted more and more of it. You like spending time with them, getting lost in hours just talking, walking together, even texting. The tingles because of the butterflies in your stomach. The rush of blood evident on your cheeks if they even move a little closer. The brush of hands as both of you walk down the street. All the little things.

It was falling in love; being in love.

Hugh winked his way over, raising his hand in greeting while you did so. Levi avoided your eyes as he walked by.

Hanji nudged your shoulder with theirs, winking just like how Hugh did. And it made you barf, because Hanji just over did it, and they ended up laughing beside you.

“So who are we picking?”

“What?!”

“Oh, everybody knows.”

“Knows what?”

Hanji gave you a pointed, knowing look as they stopped chewing their lunch to give you that look. You followed Hanji’s eyes as they pointed at Hugh who was in line for food with a smile gracing their face as he talked animatedly to your co-worker; while Levi... Levi crossed his arms, waiting for his turn.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“God.”

Your eyes moved back and forth towards them, like a hawk choosing its prey which is morbid because you have to make a choice. Nobody is forcing you but while you make this situation any longer, if you drag it any longer, people will get hurt. You will get hurt because the torture of guilt will corrupt your mind because you know who to choose. You weren’t ready with the responsibility of choosing. One will succeed, you’ll be happy, and the other would wallow hung their head low because they lost.

Hugh was a friend. He clicked with you the from your first day at work. He ran through everything you have to do, lingered in your space longer than you wanted but you took it all in good graces. He was just showing you around, which is common courtesy for a new co-worker. As time goes by, both of your office hours would begin with a conversation that was left off from yesterday, continuing with such ease that you found yourself smiling and joking around with him. It was always like that, done in good graces and you enjoyed your time with him. Until one day, it clicked. His actions showed that he wasn’t looking for a friend, he was looking for something more and he made that very clear. But you steered off those actions, and tried to make it as you were oblivious to it.

Levi was a great friend. It surprised you because the first day, he didn’t once speak with you. Then, it surprised you even more because you two were walking the same way home. He turned around, stopping in his tracks as his brows dipped in the middle, curious as to why you were walking behind him. Both of you were stumped that day, while you explained that it was your way home. Then it got too weird, because you followed his steps up an apartment, and the turn once more. He realized what was happening, and he brushed it off. Until, it has become a routine for the two of you. It’s either you who waits for him; or him who waits for you. No talks, just comfortable silence as your shoes hits the gravel with every step until two of have to break away to get inside their respective apartments.

Then, you have to factor in the things that happens by being neighbors. It’s surprising when Levi was the first one to knock on your door to ask for some sugar or salt. Then it was your turn, who asks for a nearby take-out place. Then at some point, Levi gives you a beer, and leaves. So, the decent thing to do was to knock on his door, with the beer in your hand and a quick grab of the half-eaten chips on your pantry as you invited yourself inside his home.

Levi was always quiet, but you weren’t dumb too. He was a friend, but it feels different with him. The minutes spent together feels like heaven, and you could only pray that it lasts forever. The lingering stares that you aren’t a stranger to, you wanted that. And as a hint, you gave it to him. It was probably the first time you’ve seen him blush as he does. The little knocks on the door, if he asks for something and when it was your turn, he’d eventually leave you be in his kitchen to grab whatever you would need while he browses his Netflix suggestions— and you’d be left stunned because he has plenty of salt and sugar.

Or when he waits by the entrance of the building, or by the elevator to join you in the walk home.

“Hey!”

“Hugh.”

“That’s me!” Hugh exclaimed, taking the seat in front of you and Hanji. He waved his hand in front of your eyes and you only raised a brow, “Thinking of something deep?”

“Oh, uhm,” you licked your lips, stabbing the salad with your fork as you blew a sigh, in a hurry to think of something. “No! No! I was thinking of... work.”

“Boss got you doing more stuff?” Hugh asked, rubbing your hand with his thumb. It feels so weird, and unnatural that you used it to grab a napkin to wipe your mouth. Hugh brushed it off, starting to eat his meal.

Your eyes followed Levi as he walked towards the table, but in perfect mask, he flung his head towards the other table, perfectly walking away from you.

“I have to do something,” Hanji stood up, squeezing your shoulder in secret, as they smiled at you. “I’ll leave you two be.”

Before you could stop, Hanji is off to Levi’s table, animatedly talking while Levi would only grunt and nod occasionally.

Levi knew what it meant— and that Hugh was eating with you, again. He is always is too late, too slow, a big coward when it comes to you; and this is how the universe repays him. He wallows in his meal, chewing forcefully at how much he hates Hugh’s face. His whole being— dislike. A big dislike. Couldn’t Hugh take a hint that you didn’t want him? But whenever Levi thinks of that, he couldn’t help but cringe for thinking that— because he doesn’t even know if you like him like that. He’s too dumb for words so he settles for his actions.

He likes being near you. He enjoys both your loud and silent company, for the days when work was fun and for the days when work was heavy. And whenever he isn’t around you, it makes him feel incomplete. It wasn’t in his book to fall, he just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help that he finds you so endearing. Like a thread pulling him closer to you.

But with Hugh? He’s a lost cause.

Still, Levi finds himself waiting for you by the exit, just like any other day.

He buttoned his coat, waiting by the door as he watched you slip past the crowd with a smile reserved just for him— the one that says: ‘There you are.’

But it was cut short when Hugh appeared in the scene. Levi watched your eyes flutter to him, and back to Hugh, struggling to make up an excuse as he could see it in your face. Ultimately, Hugh has got his dazzling smile and an arm around your shoulder as he showed you the way to his car down at an another exit. Levi stayed watching Hugh drag you, until you raised your phone and mouthed: ‘Text you!’

Levi walked himself alone, clutching his phone in his hand, waiting for you to text him. But you didn’t.

It was close to midnight when Hugh dropped you off at your building, thankful that you’ve got the day-off for tomorrow. You raced up the stairs, leaving a loud ‘Goodnight!’ towards Hugh, while you finally reached the top to open the door to the building. You almost slipped, making you clutch the railings in relief as well as the hot take-out you’ve got in your arms. You turned around the corner, avoiding your apartment door because Levi lives on the second flood, and relief flushes through you again, because he was still awake.

You cleared your throat, fixing your hair as you prepared to knock with a smile.

Levi didn’t even need to know who scrambled right in front of his door, because he could hear your loud panting across from it, as he opened the door right away from your hands.

“Hi,” you breathed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as Levi only stood there in his pajamas. “I… I brought food. Take-out from our favorite place?”

“Where’s Hugh?” Levi asked, never moving the door an inch wider as he stared at you. He shouldn’t feel bitter that you forgot about him, but his feelings are all over the place and he couldn’t pinpoint if its right or wrong. He’s in a debate if he should let you in or not, or whatever else is running through his mind.

“Oh! He left. He dropped me off,” you answered, licking your lips as you breathed deeply. You waved the take-out in his face, with a wide smile, and brief desperation on your eyes when he didn’t move a muscle. “So? What do you say?”

“I say that you need to,” Levi started, clutching the doorknob, his thoughts in shambles as his heart was in thudded harder and harder. He read your eyes, and he almost opened the door wider, but he fought himself. Stay. “Go home.”

“Are you sure?” You asked quietly, pushing the take-out through the small crack. He only followed your hands, “It’s your favorite.”

“I had dinner already.”

“Oh, but... Right, right. It’s okay. Goodnight, Levi.”

Levi tapped his fingers behind the door, holding his ground. As empty his expressions are, his thoughts are the complete opposite. He scanned your face again, desperation on full display as you shook your head, pulling away from his door. Levi could only watch as you nod your head repeatedly, holding the food on your chest as you stepped away hurriedly. He closed his eyes, sighing as he listened to your footsteps fade into the hallway and down into the stairs, until he could hear the faint closing of your door.

Levi couldn’t close the door. He couldn’t just stay there by his door, hanging on to the sound of your door closing. He went back inside his apartment, fiddling with his phone as he checked his notifications for something that could differ his attention away from you. But he couldn’t stop to see your face— on how it broke down the instant he rejected. The way he didn’t open his door any wider than he would look.

Perhaps, he was hurting himself for his sanity. He didn’t want to be tossed like rag-doll, get dragged like a rag-doll because he didn’t want to be dragged at where you thought it was possible. He doesn’t want to follow your every step just because he likes you. He doesn’t want for him to be tossed at any direction possible, but only towards at you.

Maybe it was for the best.

Maybe all he has to do was power through this, breathed through this— yet he found himself standing up from the couch, looking at the clock as it struck midnight, and like a prince in a movie, he follows you.

Hugh understood. He could never compete with a guy like Levi. He read it from your face the moment your first day ended. He is just strung-up with the idea of you, and that idea has to vanish because it was never him. So, Hugh understood. That’s why he dragged you for a late dinner, fully knowing that Levi was watching. Because Hugh could instantly read what was happening, he just didn’t want to see it. But at some point, he understands so well that he had to tell you it.

You held your breath like you were underwater when Hugh confessed. It was supposed to feel magical, the tingles, the blushes— but all you felt was flattery and admiration because somebody confessed to you like that. You wished you had the guts to confess like that. Hugh confessed his heart out, but instead of watching the eyes sparkle, it glinted hopelessness and bravery for doing so.

“But, I know you like Levi,” Hugh ended his confession as he clunk your glasses together through the dinner.

“Hugh…” you sighed, rubbing your temples with your fingers because it felt too nauseating, too real, that he said that. You blinked, mustering courage as you finally looked at him. “You’re a nice guy, but-,”

“I’m not Levi,” Hugh added, nodding to himself. He chuckled softly when you groaned before him, and because this was the only time he has seen you so disturbed at the reality. He softly voiced his thoughts, but it has rung the alarms in your whole being. “Go get him.”

You lifted your head up, mouth parted as Hugh nodded. He rubbed your hand one last time, comforting as always, and you let him. He leaned in forward, raising his glass at you, ushering you to clunk them together, one last time. Hugh held his head up high, finally letting go as you stared in shock.

“Go get him.”

And you did, but he didn’t want to be get.

The food has gone cold on coffee table, still wrapped up in plastic as you removed your shoes and jacket, chucking them on the floor and on the chair. The only company you have was the phone in your hand, and the deep ringing sound when it has been too quiet. It’s staring into an abyss, waiting for something to happen, because you wanted something to happen.

Maybe it was your mind playing games on you, thinking that he likes you back. Maybe a figment of your imagination. Maybe you read the signs wrong. Maybe it was nothing. It is nothing, and you were right about that.

“Fuck,” you groaned into your hands as you hung your head low back into the sofa, thinking of how embarrassing it was. “I’m not good at this.”

The silent void filled you, coloring your thoughts into static, thinking of how it went so badly that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. It went so badly that you wanted for it be vanish into nothing. “Oh, help me.”

Somebody knocked on the door, making you jump up in your sit, scowling as it got your heart beating so fast, that you only stared at the door. Nobody knocks on your door at midnight. Even if you’re crazy enough for some guy, you weren’t crazy enough to open the door at midnight. They knocked again, and you only leaned into the sofa, closing your eyes as you waited for them to leave.

“Oi.”

Levi.

“Open the door.”

Levi.

“I know you’re in there. Lights are still on.”

You have never jumped so quickly out of the sofa, scrambling hard to get to the door. Your hand hovered by the doorknob, breathing hard if you have enough face to face him.

“Open.”

The ever so demanding.

“Hi,” you smiled, opening the door for him.

He crossed his arms, eyes looking behind you, and he finally spotted what was supposed to be his conversation starter. “Dinner is still on?”

“I thought you already ate.”

“I did.” Levi pointedly looked, nibbling on his lower lip as he waited for your answer that felt like eternity. He could easily read your mind and you knew something was bothering you. Maybe this was a mistake. “Let’s eat.”

“Listen, Levi,” you whispered, leaning on to the door as it swung slightly open, trying to avoid his eyes. “About Hugh…”

“Me?” Levi asked, taking a step backwards. It was a mistake.

“No! Hugh! H-U-G-H!” You almost exclaimed but you caught yourself at the last second. “I… You! Levi!,”

Levi stopped, and tilted his head to the side, as you closed your eyes. He couldn’t believe his ears when you said it. He had to lean in forward as you mumbled your words again, finally opening his eyes to match his greys’ stares.

“I like you.” You confessed, channeling Hugh’s bravery from the dinner.

Levi only stood there, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms. He nodded, his face turning to stoic— just like from the first day. Just like when you followed him home, to realizing the two of you lived in the same building. Levi thought of all the princess movies he’s had knowledge from— watched, because at some point you picked the movie in his Netflix suggestions, and he couldn’t say no. He thought that if princes run after their princesses, happily ever after would magically appear. But in his sorry case, it didn’t. It was pathetic.

“Okay,” Levi sighed, eyeing the food again. If this was the last thing he could ever get to do with you, he’ll do it with shame and honor all horribly mixed into one. It wouldn’t go away anytime soon because he works with you. Lives in the building with you. Walks with you. So he focuses on his last hurrah, the last take-out dinner night. “Are we still on with the dinner?”

It was like whiplash. Levi nonchalantly pointed at the food, making you look all confused, because you don’t know what’s happening. He was supposed to blush! Stutter! Murmur his confession to you! But, he didn’t do any of those.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“You like Hugh.”

“God,” you sighed, almost falling into your knees, begging for him to understand.

Tears were falling from your face from confusion, and the feeling of the nonexistent patience you thought you had with confessing. Maybe you did have to kneel. You took Levi’s hands, turning them over in yours and the memories of having to brush them against yours for every walk you have to endure without exploding about him— it all came crashing on you. “You! L-E-V-I! I like you!”

It finally dawned on him, and the tingles were back on track. For the amount of times he’s cleared his throat to cover up the absence of his words, he is sure he’d have no throat to use tomorrow.

Levi stood there like a mannequin, and like a thread pulling him to you, he lets it guide him. Until he’s inches away from you, lips all parted, waiting for somebody to fill in the silence still. But maybe it wasn’t needed.

You shudder with how close he was, and you’re drinking it all. His grey eyes traced your very features, he’s drinking it all. He shivered under your touch, as you placed a palm over his heart, and you smiled with how his heart is making up for his loss of words. His heart thumped underneath your touch, hard and fast, and you nodded. You looked for his hand, turning them over as you guided him to do the same. His hand was warm over your thin blouse, moving slightly to feel your heart thump the same. Beat the same as his, feel it ride its high with just being with him.

Both of you listened, small smiles gracing each other’s lips as both of you let your hearts speak the same language.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi imagines #levi imagine #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman imagine #aot imagines #aot imagine #snk imagines #snk imagine #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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