#he wore a beret on the show last night!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eternal-love-song · 1 year

Text

Dice Daycare ch 1

During the day, Dice Daycare takes care of Pokemon. During the night, the group known as Phantom Mask steal Shadow Pokemon from the evil Team DR so that they can be purified and rehabilitated. Kokichi, along with his organization Dice, show these pokemon how to open their hearts again.

Too bad no one told Shuichi Saihara this. When his friend Kaede, who can see the auras of Shadow Pokemon, brings him news of her sister having one of these evil pokemon, it puts him on a crash course with the vigilante group. As he tries to investigate the daycare and figure out what these Shadow Pokemon are and why Dice seem to be involved, he learns about pokemon being stolen and slowly uncovers the existence of Team DR.

[Kokichi & Dice]

[Pokemon Crossover, Non despair, Original Pokemon Region, Pokemon Trainers, Team Dynamics, Teams as Family, Friendship, Developing Friendships]

It was the night of a new moon, making the sky darker than usual and lending an ominous air to the world. Kokichi had switched out his usually bright clothes for a darker outfit, a dark purple cloak obscuring his form as he held his mask in his hand. He looked behind him at his team of five, all wearing hooded cloaks like his but in varying colors. Two in pink, one in black, one in red, and the last in blue.

"Are we ready?" Kokichi asked them. They were already wearing their mask, an army of brightly smiling faces staring back at him as they all gave him a salute. "Good," he said, placing his own mask over his face. He tapped his ear piece a few times to confirm that it was working before he spoke again. "Team smile, with me. Team Frown, go around the back. Now let's move out!"

The building had three stories and two entrances. While his second team would be making a quieter entrance around the back so that they could head up to the higher floors more quickly, Kokichi was prepared to enter the building with a bang. He tossed his two balls in the air, one a normal pokeball and the other a premiere ball, and out came his Ghastly and Misdreavus.

"Psybeam, Misdreavus!" The pokemon cried out in excitement before launching a beam toward the doors and blasting them open.

His two pink robed associates took the lead ahead of him, an Espeon and Umbreon at their sides. Kokichi kept to the shadows, keeping his eyes peeling for anything amiss. It took less than five minutes for someone to come investigate the commotion. Two adults wearing black and red, letting him know that his information was correct. Team DR always wore black and red.

The girl was wearing a red crop top and matching beret, with a black jacket draped over her shoulder and black pants with two belts across her waist, one black and one red that held four pokeballs. The guy was shirtless under his black jacket, wearing a black beret and the same style of pants and belt, but only two pokeballs on him.

"What the hell is going on here?" The guy demanded.

One of Kokichi's two subordinates, code name Joy, walked forward, waving cheekily. "Hi! We knocked, but no one answered. Hope you don't mind that we let ourselves in," she said.

The other, Trust, was more sedate in his response. "Just to confirm, you are part of Team DR, right?"

"Shit, they're onto us," the girl said, grabbing one of her Pokeballs.

"Oh good," Joy said as she reached beneath her cloak and pulled out a love ball. "You're making this easy for me."

"We're not letting you leave here," the guy added.

"They're making this really easy," Trust added, tossing a friend ball up and down in his hand. "It's a pain when they try to retreat."

The female DR grunt sent out a Gloom. "Make them feel despair!"

The guy silently sent out a Mankey.

"Let's go, Vivi!" Joy cried as she released her Espeon.

"Help her out, Eclipse," Trust said as he let out his Umbreon.

Kokichi only kept half an eye on the battle as he moved along the sides of the room, looking for anything suspicious. Ghastly kept close to him, while Misdreavus wandered to the other side of the room, keeping an eye out. He didn't see anything too important laying around and when Misdreavus floated back to his side, the quick shake of her head reported the same results. If there was anything important in this base, it would be on the upper floors.

Espeon made quick work of the first two pokemon, and Umbreon was able to dispatch the female grunt's second pokemon just as handily. That's when things got interesting.

"It's time to stop playing around," the girl said. "Destroy them, Tangela!"

"Annihilate them, Meowth!" The guy added.

Kokichi stood up straighter as he stared at the two new pokemon. Both had strange, dark auras around them, marking them for what they were, Shadow Pokemon. Pokemon that had been abused to the point of closing off their heart and obtaining a strange power. Kokichi clenched his fist to see them, even though he'd known to expect them. That was why he was here, after all. To steal these Shadow Pokemon right from under Team DR's noses.

The Meowth used shadow rush right away, disappearing into a dark blurr and barrelling straight into Trust, knocking him down. Shadow Pokemon had no hesitation when it came to attacking trainers and hurting others. The cruelty that had been done to them became second nature and they lashed out at whatever was in front of them.

Joy jumped away from the pokemon. "Attract, Vivi!"

The Espeon quickly followed her trainer's command, shooting out hearts that hit the Meowth head on and made the pokemon hesitate. The Tangela didn't though, using vine whip against both trainer and pokemon, making them both cry out in pain.

Umbreon let out a cry before disappearing and slamming into Meowth with a faint attack. Trust was able to push himself to his feet and Joy made her way to her partner's side to help him stand.

"You good?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Trust answered. "I've taken worse."

Meowth turned around and bit Umbreon, only to be knocked away by a quick attack from Espeon. Tangela released a purple powder into the air, but both Espeon and Umbreon were able to dodge the poison powder.

Kokichi made his way closer to the fight from the shadows. He pushed his cloak off of one shoulder, revealing the machine that he wore on his arm. He took a premier ball in hand and charged it with the snag machine as he waited for his chance.

Meowth scratched Umbreon, who released a screech in turn, causing Meowth to wince from the loud sound. Espeon followed up with confusion, making the pokemon cover its head in pain. Kokichi chose that moment to strike, throwing his premier ball at the Meowth and watching as the pokemon was sucked into the ball.

"What?"

"What the hell?" the two DR grunts cried in unison.

His subordinates didn't hesitate.

"Quick attack, Vivi!"

"Faint attack, Eclipse!"

Espeon quickly slammed into Tangela, followed by Umbreon.

Kokichi quickly readied another premier ball and tossed it at the newly injured Tangela. Both balls stopped moving quickly, cementing their stolen status.

"They stole our pokemon?" The male DR grunt said in a shocked whisper.

"How dare you!" the woman yelled.

Kokichi stepped out of the shadows as Ghastly and Misdreavus went to retrieve the two balls for him. "If your superiors ask, make sure that you tell them you were hit up by the Phantom Mask." He caught the two balls that his pokemon dropped into his hand. "And make sure you remember that karma is bitch. Misdreavus, shadow rush."

Misdreavus cried out happily as her eyes glowed before she charged at the two trainers. Kokichi didn't usually like to have pokemon use shadow rush. It did recoil damage to the pokemon that used it and it was a reminder of whatever sick experiments that team DR had done to try and make their pokemon stronger. But he was a fan of karmic justice and letting an abused pokemon get to attack the trainers that hurt them was justifiable in Kokichi's book.

Joy and Trust were high fiving each other as the two DR grunts hit the ground, knocked out. "Great job, missy!" Joy said.

Misdreavus preened at the praise, floating around Joy before returning to Kokichi's side. He tapped his ear piece once. "Team Frown, how we doing?"

He could hear the sounds of battle in the background as one of his subordinates answered him. "Second floor was a bust, but there was an office on the third floor. Envy found a shadow Magnimite and Fear is holding off a team of electric types. Vaporeon wouldn't be much use there so I'm grabbing files from the office. Might be in your best interest to get up here, boss."

"Alright, I'm on my way," Kokichi said. He looked at his pink clad teammates. "I'm counting on you two to guard the exits in case anything happens. And tie those two up. I don't want them to get away before we can get Officer Jenny here."

They both saluted. "Got you, boss."

Ghastly floated ahead of him, showing the fastest route to the next floor. Before the end of the night he'd have at least one more Shadow Pokemon under his belt.

OoOoOo

The lights were still on when they returned, well after midnight. Even in the dark the large sign that read Dice Daycare could be read. They had used glow in the dark paint to make sure that it would always stand out. It was a two story building with a rather large yard and a tall, sturdy fence meant to keep pokemon in and people out.

Kokichi looked up at the two ghost pokemon floating over his shoulders with a smile. "Take a look around and make sure things are alright for me?"

The two ghosts made sounds of agreement and vanished from sight.

Kokichi glanced behind him to make sure his five subordinates were still there, then he continued forward to open the daycare door.

Two of his Dice members were sitting at the front desk, sharing a pot of tea. To the left was Elaria, a delicate looking pokemon breeder with teal hair pulled into an elegant bun and large, bright blue eyes. To the right was his younger half brother Kouchi,who shared his hair and eye color but wore a mask pulled up over the bottom half of his face. The mask was currently pulled down so that he could sip his tea, but it was pulled up again as soon as he placed his cup down on the table.

"Welcome back," Elaria greeted.

"Anything cool happen while we were gone?" he asked.

"Not really," Kouchi answered. "How did it go?"

The rest of his team came in behind him, with the three members of Team Frown waving and giving brief greetings as they walked past them to the stairs that lead to the upper floors, likely to sleep. Team Smile meanwhile moved past Kokichi to talk to the others at the desk.

Member Joy, real name Orchid, hopped up onto the counter, Elaria moving her cup of tea out range for being accidentally knocked over. She tossed off her hood and took off her mask, smiling brightly at them both. The bangs of her bright pink hair fell over the left side of her face, partially covering one of her bright pink eyes, the rest of her pulled back into a messy ponytail, revealing the double piercings in her ear. "It went great!" Orchid told them. "We got three new Shadow Pokemon."

Member Trust, real name Cormac, leaned on the desk beside Kouchi as he removed his own hood and mask. Cormac had short, messy white hair and pink eyes that were darker than Orchid's. "A Tangela, Meowth, and Magnemite."

"A Meowth," Kouchi repeated. "Koharu will be happy to hear that."

Koharu was his other half brother and Kouchi's full brother. His two half brothers had only found and joined him recently, but they were a good fit for Dice. Koharu, for all of his arrogance and difficulty getting along with people, was really good with pokemon and animals alike. In contrast, Kouchi was really good with people. He was soft spoken, kind, and a bit of a night owl, making him a good choice for nightwatch at the daycare.

The other core members of his group included his twin brother Kimochi, the twins Aoko and Arin, psychic trainer Hunter, and cool trainer Kanade. Kimochi and Kanade were on the Attack Team, battling with Shadow Pokemon and taking down the stronger members of Team DR. They were currently away on a mission and Kokichi wasn't sure when the two would be back. A few of his former classmates also worked with him on occasion, but he hesitated to call them official members just yet.

Kokichi let out a loud sigh and sprawled out on the counter, causing Elaria to again quickly move her cup of tea before it was knocked over. "I can't believe neither of you have greeted your beloved leader."

Elaria took a sip of her tea before dutifully saying, "Hello, beloved leader."

"Welcome back, Kokichi," Kouchi added.

"Lackluster, both of you!" He glared at them before forcing his eyes to water and sniffling sadly. "Wahh! Neither of you care about me! If Kimochi was here, I'd never be treated so poorly."

"Tragedy of tragedies," Kouchi said, sipping his own tea. "How will you ever recover?"

Orchid raised her hand enthusiastically. "I appreciate you, boss!"

"It's too late!" he cried. "I know that none of you love me."

"Was that supposed to be on the test?" Cormac asked. "Shoot, I knew I forgot to study something."

Orchid laughed. Kouchi thought his grin was hidden because his face was covered, but Kokichi could tell by his eyes that he was smiling as well.

"You're all horrible minions! You're fired."

"I'm your brother, you can't fire me," Kouchi told him.

"I can," Kokichi insisted, slamming his hands down on the counter. "I'm firing you as a brother."

"Oh, can I be your new brother?" Orchid asked excitedly.

"You're hired."

"Yes!" Orchid cheered.

Kouchi just shook his head before standing up. "Are you in for the night? Can I lock up?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Kokichi agreed. "We should all probably get some sleep soon."

Orchid hopped off the counter with a yawn. "You don't need to tell me twice," she said. "Night everybody. Night new brother."

"Good night, big brother," Kokichi said with a grin.

Kouchi frowned. "You don't call me big brother."

"Well you're not my brother anymore, are you. You got fired."

"And what, she immediately got a promotion?"

"Yeah."

Elaria got to her feet and collected the tea cups and tea pot. "Would you like another cup before bed, Kouchi?"

"No thank you," Kouchi answered.

Kokichi waved at her as she left the room. "Alright, I'm off to bed, minions."

"Good night, Kokichi."

OoOoOo

Kokichi woke up to his bed shaking. The confusion only lasted as long as it took him to sit up as he was immediately wrapped in an embrace. "Good morning, Kokichi!" Orchid chirped happily.

Kokichi sighed and slumped against her, submitting himself to being cuddled as he tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. "Why did you wake me up?" he asked.

Orchid was a morning person and she made it everyone's problem. Cormac was the usual target of her morning wake ups, since the two were childhood friends, but everyone had gotten it at least once. She was a social butterfly and the only way to prevent her from waking someone up for company was if someone else was already awake or she decided to wander off and get herself into trouble.

"You'll miss breakfast if you sleep too long," she told him. "You're the last one still in bed."

"That's not true," he said immediately. He knew for a fact that Aoko wouldn't get up before noon and it was nowhere near that late.

Orchid paused before leaning back and smiling widely. "You're the last one who's door was unlocked."

Kokichi knew he had forgotten something last night. He groaned and pushed her away. She was dressed in a long flowy pink dress with a large hibiscus flower in her hair and a coral bracelet on her wrist, looking remarkably like she had the day he met her. They were both a few years older, but nothing about her had change at all.

"Go away so I can get dressed," he told her.

"Will you just go back to sleep?" she asked him.

Any other day the answer would be yes. The day after a raid, however, he had too many things to do and she probably knew it. Ugh, he hated his group sometimes. "No."

Orchid hugged him one more time before bouncing off the bed. "Okay! See you downstairs." She closed the door behind her.

Kokichi groaned as he fell back onto the bed. Today was going to be a long day.

OoOoOo

Kokichi met a wall of noise when he descended the stairs to the daycare. Ghastly and Misdreavus were floating over his shoulder and he yawned as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Ghastly appeared in front of him to make a ridiculous face, turning his yawn into a laugh.

His classmate, Kirumi, was standing behind the counter. She nodded her head as she saw him. "Hello, Kokichi. I've prepared breakfast and left it on the table for everyone. I made plenty so don't be afraid to eat your fill."

"Wow! Thanks mom!" he said cheerfully.

Kirumi's face scrunched up in distaste. "Please don't call me that."

"Someone's got to be the mom around here," he said.

"I don't wish to have any children, let alone children that are my same age," she said calmly.

"Aww, you love me just as much as my real mom!"

Kirumi looked troubled by that, but Kokichi skipped past the counter before she could say anything more.

The bottom floor of the daycare consisted of one large room separated by the front desk, and a kitchen area but an open doorway. There was a decently sized bathroom off to the side of the main room, the door to which was kept open when not in use.

Koharu and Elaria were sitting at the low table in the main room. His half brother Koharu was more concerned with appearances than the rest, so even this early he was wearing a dash of eye shadow and had a bit of color on his lips. He was the youngest of Kokichi’s brothers by around two years and Kimochi spoiled him way too much, but his twin was very indulgent with those he liked. Koharu was far too uppity in Kokichi's opinion and insufferably smug when he wanted to be, but Kokichi had gotten used to him and wouldn't want to go back to life without him. He'd never say that though. The biggest upside of Koharu was that he was good with pokemon and animals alike, and he was as big of help at the daycare as Elaria was. Vulpix was dozing on Koharu's lap as he picked at a platter of fruit on the table between them.

Elaria was dressed as delicately as she looked, with a thin white veil hanging from her pinned teal hair, and a dress that made her look a bit like a fairly. She had a Cyndaquil in her lap and was using a special brush to brush his fur. There was a cup of tea in front of her and her Ralts sitting beside her was attempting to lift the tea pot to pour her a cup. Elaria looked amused as she gave her young pokemon encouragement, but Kokichi was sure that was going to end with spilled tea. Ralts was just a baby and it liked to imitate its trainer whenever possible, which didn't always go well.

"Hey," Kokichi said as he walked past them.

"Good morning," Elaria greeted softly.

Koharu just nodded at him. "Kokichi."

He continued past them to the kitchen where the rest of his awakened members were. Cormac was sitting at the kitchen table nibbling on a piece of bacon. There were flowers in his hair which Kokichi was sure were courtesy of Orchid and a coral bracelet to match her own around his wrist. Orchid was sitting across from him with a stack of pancakes covered in syrup and topped with berries. Hovering over the counter was the psychic trainer Hunter, who liked to use his telekinesis to be obnoxious whenever possible, emphasized when he stole a bite of Orchid's food by floating it off her fork and into his mouth.

"Hey!" she objected.

"God, this is like pure sugar," Hunter complained. He kept his dark hair pulled back from his face in a ponytail and his green eyes had a hard look to them even when he smiled. "How can you stand that this early in the morning?"

"If you want something less sweet, get your own," she told him. "Or steal from Cormac."

Cormac just raised an eyebrow as he pushed another piece of bacon into his mouth.

Kokichi guessed that the twins and Kouchi were still sleeping.

Over to one side of the room was a row of food bowls where the eeveelutions were eating. Orchid's Espeon, Cormac's Umbreon, Hunter's Jolteon, Aoko's Vaporeon, and Arin's Flareon. Kouchi's Absol was also near the food bowl, curled up like it was sleeping, and Kirumi's Houndour was there, too. There were a few pokemon missing, but he wasn't worried about it. They didn't always let their pokemon out all at once.

Kokichi took a seat at the table, helping himself to half the eggs and all the remaining bacon. "Is there coffee?" he asked.

Orchid made a face of disgust as Cormac answered. "Yeah, there should be."

"Can you pour me a cup, Hunter?"

"Sorry, my hands are full," Hunter answered, reaching down to pick up his plate and bite into a piece of toast.

Kokichi gave him a flat look, which the psychic ignored. "You are all the most disrespectful minions ever," he grumbled as he pushed his chair out.

"I know," Hunter replied with a grin.

Kokichi blew a raspberry at him as he walked to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, pleased to find that it was still warm. He took a long sip, draining a quarter of his cup and filling it back up before returning to his seat. It was mostly quiet as they eat, just the sound of forks and knives hitting plates and the background sound of the Pokemon. That was until the twins finally stumbled.

Aoko came in first, her cheeks puffed out as if she was already angry at the day. Her black hair was short and wavy, covering half of her face and leaving only one light brown eye uncovered. She kept her hair styled so that her small red hoop earrings could be seen, an accessory that she shared with her twin brother. Said twin, Arin, had a much more timid expression. His hair was much longer than his sister's, though worn in a similar way so that it covered one eye and left his ears uncovered.

"Did you sleep badly?" Cormac asked Aoko after seeing her sour expression.

"It's too early," she groaned.

"Then why did you get up?" Orchid asked. "It wasn't my fault, your door was locked."

"Did you try to wake her up before me?" Kokichi asked.

Orchid smiled. "Of course I did. Aoko is funniest when she just wakes up."

"Shove off," she groaned.

Arin pushed the remaining food onto two plates, placing one in front of his sister. "Missy came in and woke us both up."

"Her vile, evil ways are showing," Aoko grumbled. She looked up and pulled her plate close, shoveling a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

That explained where his pokemon had wandered off to.

"Excuse you," Kokichi said. "Missy is my best Pokemon."

"What about Ghastly?" Cormac asked.

"Gassy is also my best pokemon," Kokichi answered.

"You let them get away with too much," Hunter said.

"Be lucky they don't target you," Kokichi said with a grin. "Psychics are weak to ghosts, riiight?"

Hunter grumbled and went back to eating an apple.

"So what's the plan today?" Cormac questioned, pushing himself away from the table and taking his plate to the sink. Hunter was kind enough to float the other empty plates to the sink for him, but not nice enough to actually help with the washing up.

"Gotta introduce the new pokemon," Kokichi answered. "Kimochi and Kanade probably won't be back for a while, so someone else will need to take care of them. We'll talk about it once Kouchi's down."

His half brother didn't join them until after they'd cleaned up breakfast and had convened in the main room. Kirumi was still at the front counter, leaving his group free to talk among themselves without interruption.

"So," Kokichi spoke up, looking around the room to make sure he had everyone's attention. "We got three new Shadow Pokemon yesterday. A Meowth, a Tangela, and a Magnemite."

Koharu's eyes lit up immediately. "A Meowth, you say."

Kouchi chuckled behind his mask. "I knew that would catch your attention as soon as he mentioned it."

"I've had a lot of practice with cats," Koharu said confidently. "So I'm the obvious choice for a cat pokemon."

"I doubt that anyone wants to argue with you over it," Kokichi said. Koharu was very protective of the pokemon that they looked after and they all learned that he was also incredibly stubborn. Even if someone else did want to claim the pokemon, most wouldn't want to go through the effort to fight with him over it.

Koharu looked around at them all, nodding at the lack of objection. "Good."

"Do any of you want to claim responsibility for the Tangela?" Kokichi asked.

After looking around at everyone, Arin hesitantly raised his hand."Um, I can try."

"Great! That takes care of that then," Kokichi said with a smile.

"What about the Magnemite?" Hunter questioned. He was hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, keeping as far on the outskirts of the group as possible. He wasn't a fan of being crowded together and always found some way to keep his personal space, even when he needed to use his powers to do so.

"I'm going to offer it to our lovely benefactor."

That provoked a response immediately. Koharu glared at him disapprovingly while Aoko and Orchid made objections, Cormac and Arin made noises of surprise, and the others were silent. Hunter had raised a judging eyebrow, while Elaria and Kouchi both waited patiently for him to explain.

"I told you all before about my associate, right?" Kokichi asked, receiving nods all around the room. "Well it just so happens that they've been wanting another Pokemon and now is as good a time as any to test her reliability."

"You're going to let someone untested have a Shadow pokemon?" Koharu questioned. "How does that make you any better than Team DR."

"Koharu!" Kouchi exclaimed disapprovingly. The other didn't back down though and continued glaring at Kokichi.

Kokichi glared back. "She's not untested," he shot back. "She both has a pokemon and goes to the academy, where's actively learning to be a better trainer."

"Having a pokemon isn't the same as having a Shadow Pokemon. That could be dangerous for both of them," Koharu argued. "Not to mention that Shadow Poklemon require more care--"

"Don't act like you're the only person that's ever loved a pokemon before," Kokichi snapped.

"This isn't about love, it's about competence."

"And you don't know her competence."

"Which is exactly the point!" Koharu said sternly. "You don't know what kind of trainer she is. She couldn't possibly be prepared--"

"You don't know what I know," Kokichi said. "And it isn't your decision one way or the other. It's mine."

Koharu glared and geared up to speak again when Elaria placed a hand on his arm. "Koharu, I'm sure Kokichi doesn't plan to just drop a Shadow Pokemon on someone without help or experience. Perhaps listen to his plan first."

Koharu huffed, but Elaria was a voice of reason that would actually listen to, so he remained silent. It didn't stop his glare but Kokichi didn't give a damn about being glared at.

Elaria smiled at him and nodded. "As you were saying."

"Thank you, Elaria," Kokichi said. "I'm glad that some people actually have half a brain around here."

Koharu immediately opened his mouth again, but Orchid leaned forward to cover his mouth with her hand. His glare switched from Kokichi to her, but she was equally as unconcerned about it.

"Now then. Since she was the one to make my snag machine, I was going to see if I could get her to make a few more and if I commission her, that'll give me an excuse to have her around. We can easily teach her how to handle Shadow Pokemon as well as keep an eye on her. Plus, I can see her at the academy."

Koharu still didn't seem pleased by this, but he held his tongue on any other complaints, even after Orchid moved her hand.

"I don't think it's a bad plan," Orchid said with a shrug.

Kokichi noded. "Does anyone not named Koharu have any objections to make?" He looked around, but no one spoke. "That's that then. We'll go outside to say hello to Tangela and Meowth. Anyone that doesn't want Shadow Pokemon duty is free to go."

"Alright!" Orchid said as she practically jumped to her feet. "Thanks boss man." She grabbed Koharu's hand, pulling him up and out the back where the pastures were.

"Unhand me," Koharu groaned, but the complaint was drowned out by Orchid's laughter.

Hunter stormed off next, making a beeline for the stairs and going back to his room. The rest dispersed more slowly. Aoko and Arin heading outside, Cormac to the front desk, and Elaria after smiling at him, also went toward the back door. Kouchi was the last to move, speaking softly as he asked, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You doubt me, too?" Kokichi aske with a sigh.

Kouchi was silent for a moment, thinking of how to choose his words before he spoke. "Your benefactor, as you called her, you mean Iruma, don't you?"

Kokichi crossed his arms. "And if I do?"

"She's not the kind of person that I would think of if I needed a caregiver. That's all."

Kokichi sighed. "Miu is... she doesn't have many friends. You can probably guess why. She's not great with people even when she tries to be. People like that are always a little better with Pokemon. Pokemon aren't judgemental in the same way as humans and it's a steel type, which will make her feel a bit more kindred to it. She's good at inventing things, which means she's both used to a few shocks and can make something to keep herself safe if she has to." He met his half brother's eyes, or tried to. Kouchi dropped his gaze a bit, making himself look more submissive than he really was. "I didn't make this decision for no reason."

"I didn't think you had," Kouchi said. "I just wanted to be sure."

Kokichi walked past him, going toward the back door. "You coming?"

"No, I don't think so," he said. "Kimochi sent a letter earlier and I didn't get to read it. I'm hoping to find out when he'll return from his mission."

Kokichi knew when he was supposed to return, but he also knew that anything could happen while they were on the road. Part of him misses the days when it was just him and Kimochi, traveling from town to town, city to city, trying to stay out of trouble they didn't cause and running straight into the trouble that they did. The daycare was a good idea, but it sucked to have his second in command away so often. Kimochi would have been able to handle Koharu without getting into a ten minute fight. Kimochi got along with their new brothers much better than Kokichi did.

"Tell him to hurry back when you write your reply," Kokichi said. "That's an order."

Kouchi chuckled. "I'll be sure to pass it along."

Kokichi watched as Kouchi walked to the stairs and ascended before finally walking out the back door to try and get acquainted with a new Shadow Pokemon.

#Danganronpa V3 #Pokemon #Kokichi Ouma #Dice (v3)#ELS Writing #Pokemon AU #Fanfiction #Dice Daycare

10 notes · View notes

youngjaaes · 6 years

Photo

beret jae ♡

448 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 3 years

Note

I know that you don't write anything nsfw for Damian (even the older one) and I 100% understand and respect this. I have one idea that I'm not sure if you'd be comfortable with but I thought that the worst that could happen is you saying no. Basically we all know that Damian is the artist of the family. Would you be comfortable with writing older Damian (like 16-19) having/drawing a bit risque sketches of his GF in his sketchbook. Not full on porn or nakedness but something closer to a lingerie sketches with a bit flushed expressions. Like a product of a teenage mind. Maybe his brothers finding such thing or big Bad bat being called to the school because his son was drawing sensual girl during the math lesson. If you're not comfortable, again, understandable and have a nice day!

Damian careful slid the charcoal across the paper. He was focused 100 percent on his drawing as he sat in the shade under a tree on the lawn of Gotham Academy. He was drawing the curve of your neck and the highlight of your collarbone. He had long since memorized them.

“Wayne! What are you drawing,” said the obnoxious voice of Bradley. His father owned a minority share in an oil company and Bradley thought he was hot stuff. Damian thought he was an idiot.

“None of your-“ Damian said before baboon grabbed his notebook. It was Damian’s last year in this stupid school and then he was an adult. But apparently in the meantime he couldn’t beat up idiots at school.

Damian hopped up to grab it back. Maybe a single punch wouldn’t be too bad. Then Bradley started turning pages.

“Woah! Wayne is a freak! Who’s the girl? Are you a stalker? Mr Walker, Damian Wayne is drawing porn!” He yelled as he danced just out of Damian’s reach. Damian lunged and punched him square in the jaw before grabbing the book.

“Detention! And give me the book,” Mr walker said walking quickly down the lawn. His stupid beret quivered in the breeze. He was American and wore one.

“It’s none of your business,” Damian said holding it tight. Months of drawing you was in there. Some of which were quite suggestive.

“Give. Me. The book,” he said with his hand out and Damian know his punishment would grow if he didn’t give it over. Damian gulped as he handed Mr Walker the book. The man started turning pages.

“This is inappropriate for school. Also illegal for minors,” Mr Walker said showing Damian a drawing. It was of you laying on his bed wearing nothing but Damian’s shirt and a smile. It was oversized enough to cover to your thighs but your nipples were prominent. He had only drawn it a few weeks earlier.

A crowd had circled around the group. Bradley had a huge grin.

“Wayne’s a freak just like his dad!” Yelled the bully. Damian glared between the teacher and kid.

“I don’t know how they do things where you are from but here, this won’t be tolerated. We’re going to the office and I’m calling your father,” the man sneered. Racist, Damian thought but held his tongue.

“Mr Wayne, I apologize for calling you during work but we have a situation with your son. He was hitting another student and has drawn sexually explicit material at school. Oh, you’re on the way? Excellent. We’ll be in the office,” Mr Walker said. He held the notebook open and casually turned the page in the headmaster’s office.

He was gone on vacation and this idiot was in charge. Damian was sweating in the room as for some unknown reason, Mr Walker had a fire roaring in the fireplace. Damian adjusted the collar of his uniform. Was this man even alive?

“We don’t need to keep disgusting things like this anyways,” he said before tossing the notebook in the fire.

“NO!” Damian roared as he stood to his feet. The notebook was gone before his eyes. All of his sketches of you. From the first moment you had met all the way to last night. “How dare you!” He yelled.

“You don’t want to take that tone with me, young man. Your father will be here soon and it will be a shame if he is picking you up because you’ve been expelled for threatening the Vice principal,” Mr Walker said with a wicked smile. Damian could test out of high school fairly easily and this stupid school could founder without the Wayne’s money.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Damian said standing up tall. He was taller than most and certainly more than this idiot. The other man backed up a step and Damian enjoyed the worried look on his face. “I will be withdrawing along with all of the Wayne foundation backing. I hope you enjoy the pay cut you stupid racist. Also, you can’t pronounce Latin to save your life.”

Mr Walker stared at him aghast as Damian left the building.

Bruce met him at the curb where Damian explained the situation. Bruce simply nodded.

“Get in,” he said and for the first time Damian was nervous. What did his father think? “I believe we need to buy you another notebook, yes?”

Damian looked out the window with a little smile.

Part 2

#friday night smut #batboy x reader #dc #robin x reader #Damian Wayne x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne fic

913 notes · View notes

cloud-9ine · 3 years

Text

Through a Golden Lens (pt 1)

⤷ pairing - hawks x (fem) reader

⤷ fandom - bnha

⤷ warnings - some language, hawks flirting, reader’s cynicism

⤷ summary - reader is a bitter, overworked photographer at a hero press agency with little patience for her newly assigned muse- hawks

⤷ word count - 4.5k+

⤷ notes - i have lots of ideas so this is probably going to be a multi-part series. also new to tumblr so this might not be the best

⤷ pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

“Mr. Hawks! Please look this way!” his heavy lidded eyes rolled to the side as another blinding flash burned through his vision.

“You look perfect, thank you!” it was hard to smile for their benefit, but he managed. Hawks had attended countless of these events for the press. It had been exhilarating at first, with the rush of adrenaline from the cameras and the lights and the endless stream of compliments solidifying his place in the public eye.

Nowadays, it was less thrilling. After a while, they all seemed the same- each one blurring into a senseless flare of cameras and hollow accolades.

He was bored, to say the least.

“Mr Hawks, would you like to come and see? I’d love to hear your opinion on this set!” with a practiced, easy smirk he nodded. It was easier to pander to the artist than to criticise their work.

He looked good, but when did he not? The shoots were easy to glide through. All he had to do was pull a boyish grin, ‘make love to the camera’ as the photographers always liked to spout. It didn’t really matter what he did: the public would eat up anything with his face slapped on to the front. They all looked the same to him, anyway.

“Looks good,” he wondered why people were so easily satiated by shallow praises, but as he stared at the younger lady’s blush, he couldn’t help but realise that maybe it was him who had something to do with it.

Hawks couldn’t help his gaze from drifting to the door. His skin prickled in the humidity of all the moving bodies in one enclosed space and he longed to take a step outside and stretch his wings in a way that wasn’t to pose for a magazine.

For a moment, he felt like his prayers had been answered when the door opened, letting in a stream of natural light to breach the artificiality of the modelling room.

”(L/N)! You were supposed to be here over three hours ago!” the woman in front of him exclaimed, ripping the camera away from his view and marching to the figure that appeared in the light. He blinked in surprise: this entire shoot he hadn’t heard her raise her voice above anything but a low mumble when conversing with him, and now she was positively fuming.

You stared down at your co-worker through honey-tinted shades, expression unamused.

“Yeah, and I was also supposed to be out of this job three years ago. We don’t all do what we’re supposed to, cupcake.”

For a moment, Hawks thought you were a model. Tasteful cream turtleneck tucked into heavily creased mocha skirt, caramel beret perched on your head. There were a few metal, classy looking rings wrapped around your fingers, but as far as he could see, no wedding ring. It was pretty standard style for those who worked in the arts, but somehow you wore it so well.

Your hair was a little dishevelled, and the dark circles under your eyes combined with the coffee cup in your hand were obvious signs of a rough night. His eyes locked on to the loopy black handwriting on the brown band around the cup.

(L/N) (Y/N)

You were no model, but Hawks couldn’t see the difference.

His wings beat lightly behind his back as he glided over, weaving through the other photographers and models scattered around the area.

“Hey there, I’m Hawks,” he said smoothly, voice saccharine as he spoke to you. Your attention turned to him as you glanced at him from above the frames of your sunglasses, seemingly unimpressed.

“This the new boytoy, Mizuki?” you asked, eyes raking up and down his figure. Hawks was never one to shy away from the gaze of others, but the way you were inspecting him made him feel so exposed.

“Show some respect,” Mizuki muttered, voice lowered at Hawks’ presence but glare still piercing. You sighed, sparing one last glance at Hawks before snatching the camera out of Mizuki’s hands, leaving her scrambling for the device as you walked away.

“Lemme see what you’ve got already,” Mizuki’s face grew red, half from anger towards you, and half because of the embarrassment of being diminished in front of Hawks.

“(L/N) y-you can’t just come in three hours late and take over! I’ve already done the shoot and Hawks has already expressed that he is pleased with the outcome,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and shooting the shorter woman a glare over your shoulder.

“There’s no way you’re gonna force me to come into work and make me sit here doing nothing,” you sneered, waving the camera around almost teasingly, “you wanted someone actually skilled to do this shoot, and here I am. Let me do my thing,” without waiting for a response, you left, thumb fumbling with the dial that allowed you to scroll through the photos.

Hawks was impressed. You hadn’t bat an eye when you saw him, and while you were very clearly very late, you were confident in your skills and obviously took your job seriously.

“Who was that?” he questioned, wings spreading slightly as his eyes chased after you. Mizuki bowed her head, remorse filling her expression.

“I apologise for her impertinence. That’s (L/N), she was who your original photographer was supposed to be today, but when she didn’t show up I had to take over,” she huffed, “she’s been like this for about a year now, and the boss is prepared to fire her if she keeps it up. So you’d think she’d be able to pull her at together for you, Mr. Hawks...”

After a while, Hawks tuned out her whining, eyes curiously trained on you, surveying your furrowed brows and expression pinched with annoyance as you studied the photos. Although they looked good enough to him, it appeared that you didn’t share the same sentiment.

Hawks didn’t have time to avert his eyes when you turned your head, gaze locking on to his. You raised a slightly suspicious brow, but otherwise didn’t entertain his actions.

“Mizuki, why would you use cool lighting?” you called over your shoulder, not even sparing the decency to turn around and face the person you were addressing. Mizuki frowned, moving to your side. Like a magnet, Hawks did the same, peering over your other shoulder. You eyed him from the corner of your vision for a second before tapping the screen.

“What do you mean?” you sighed at your co-workers words, evidently frustrated.

“Considering you have bird boy over here in dark academia, accented in warmer yellows, using cool lights will bring out too much of a contrast. We need to match the accent colours with warmer lighting, or use a overlay,” you muttered, seemingly addressing yourself more than the two of them. Mizuki just shook her head.

“That would just oversaturate the image,” you snorted, giving her the same patronising look an adult would give a child if they tried to outsmart them.

“Not necessarily. I could spot-reduce saturation in highlight areas during editing. Or, if you really want your contrast, I could neutralise the warmer shades by using a blue, or compliment them using a red,” Hawks didn’t miss the way you said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. Mizuki looked agitated, her frown growing deeper.

“Even so, we only have white backdrops. That would be a jarring contrast. You’d need something darker or more clustered to make it work. If you wanted a backdrop change you probably should’ve come earlier,” she spoke with a formality that obviously stemmed from Hawks next to her, but you paid no mind. You were silent for a moment, and Hawks could see your eyes narrowing as you were thinking.

“I need a natural background, huh?” you mumbled, thumbing the buttons on the camera. With a shrug, “alright, bird boy, come on, we’re leaving,” Hawks blinked in surprise as you spun on your heel, a grin breaking onto his face. Finally, he got to leave.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you shot him an irritated look.

“Don’t call me that. I’m 22, not 40,” his feathers ruffled up. “Hey, I’m also 22! What a coincidence, right?” he grinned, winking at you. You just responded by rolling your eyes.

Mizuki spluttered, trying in vain to get either one of you to stop as Hawks trailed after you.

“L-Look, you can’t just leave-” you turned, shoving the camera back into her hands, a mirthless smile on your face.

“Watch me,” your voice was cold, goading her to try and stop you, “bird boy, out, now.” Hawks didn’t have to be told twice. Some of the others whispered and muttered as they realised what was going on, but they all fell quiet when you shot them a sharp glare.

He breathed in the fresh air with a content sigh, his chest feeling lighter now he was out the cramped room. The amber glow from the late afternoon sun kissed his tanned skin as he stretched his arms above his head, his forearms flexing slightly under his dark blazer. His eyes shut in bliss and head tilted back, exposing his sharp jawline.

You eyed him slightly, eyes trailing across his features. Now that you had actually left, you were a little lost on what your plan was. You didn’t regret storming out of there, though, nor did you even consider turning back to apologise.

You took your own camera out of the dark camera bag slung across your body, careful not to scratch it on the tripod, and focused the lens on Hawks. It was smaller, a little more compact than the ones Mizuki and the others were using, but you found that it was much better suited for portrait work.

The click of the camera shutter brought Hawks out of his stupor, eyes snapping open and immediately landing on you. Your attention had already been diverted to the screen, studying your work.

“The modelling room is stuffy, I’ll give you that,” you mumbled, zooming in on his face, “but you can stretch while we walk,” Hawks leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the shot.

“Aw, you make me look so good, I’m flattered!” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be,” you took a large sip of your coffee, moving down the pathway as you thought. Hawks scrambled after you, his wings puffing out when he reached your side. You couldn’t help but gaze at the bright red feathers as he unfurled his wings, a small, happy chirping noise rumbling at the back of his throat once they were fully spread behind your back. They were warm, you noticed, feeling the heat through your turtleneck.

Your vision was filled with a cheeky smirk painted on full lips, Hawks’ face appearing in front of your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you sized him up.

“See something you like?” you rolled your eyes as he purred.

“Not in the slightest, bird brain,” his wings beat behind his back, hand clutching the fabric on his chest.

“Oh, how you wound me!” Hawks cried, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly, which you quickly covered with your coffee cup.

“I’m sure you’ll face a villain that will do greater damage than I could,” he hummed, angling his face towards the sun.

“So, where are we headed?” you chewed on your bottom lip, slinging your camera over your shoulder.

“It can’t be anywhere with lots of traffic, you attract a lot of attention, you know?” it was a rhetorical question, but Hawks’ chest still puffed out in pride at your words.

“Thanks, it’s because of my raging-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off, “either way, I have a pounding headache and I do not have enough shits to give to put up with your fan girls today,” with a sigh, you rubbed your temples. Hawks stared at your clenched teeth.

“Hey, why do you-” “I think I know where we can go,” he frowned.

“You know it’s not polite to interrupt people like that-”

“Sunflowers.” your tone dripped finality as you faced Hawks, a brazen determination in your eyes he hadn’t seen until now. It made his breath hitch in his throat.

Breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and eyebrows furrowed when you sped your pace, gulping down more of your coffee.

“Uh, what?” you waved a hand dismissively.

“There’s a sunflower field in Fukuroi City, I think it’s west from here,” the tiniest of grins etched onto your features, “it’s gonna be a lot more interesting than the rest of those blank background. Plus, the yellow will compliment your clothes, and with the sun low in the sky I’ll get my perfect warm lighting,” you explained. Hawks wasn’t sure exactly how much of a difference it would make, but the idea seemed charming, and it was more exciting than being perpetually flanked by a white screen.

“Sounds good,” he chirped, “although, to be honest, you could take me out anywhere and I wouldn’t mind,” you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a shame, because I don’t intend to hang around any more than I have to,” Hawks pouted, crossing his arms.

“Come on, I wanna know more about you!” you bristled.

“Good for you.” the two of you fell into a beat of silence before Hawks smiled, undaunted.

“I’m sure I can win you over somehow,” shaking your head in disbelief, you lifted the cup to your lips, before looking down disappointedly when you realised it was empty.

“I don’t have enough coffee for this,” you muttered. Hawks’ expression brightened.

“That’s an easy fix: your agency is around here so you must know there area pretty well,” he spoke nonchalantly, as if he was on a casual lunch date and not in the most expensive outfit you’d seen in your entire life, “what’s the best place to grab a coffee?” for a moment, you looked taken aback, before shaking your head.

“Best café in these parts is the Sunset Hour,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck, “but as much as I have no inhibitions regarding bunking off work, that’s a little too far away. I need to take this pictures before the end of the day or Mizuki’ll submit those crappy ones she took in the studio,” Hawks nodded in understanding, smile never faltering for a second.

“Well I gotta get you your caffeine fix somewhere, so what’s the second best?” your expression scrunched in thought for a moment, before you jutted a thumb over your shoulder.

“There’s a Starbucks across the road,” he snickered seeing your blank expression.

“Not exactly where I would want our first date, but I suppose it’ll do,” rolling your eyes, you shoved the empty cup to his chest, which he gripped almost instinctively.

“Good thing this isn’t a date, then,” Hawks grinned, sending your empty cup on a feather to the nearest bin before chasing after you as you crossed the road. You didn’t spare him a single glance when he appeared at your shoulder, nor when he reached over above your head to open the Starbucks door from behind you.

“So you’re saying we can have our first date somewhere else?” with a shallow sigh, you shook your head.

“What I’m saying is that there’s not gonna be a first date. Not between us,” his chest tightened. God, you were so mean. He’d be into that.

The inside of the Starbucks was a mix between modern, western architecture and traditional Japanese woodwork. The equipment was all cutting edge, and the tables and chairs were made with a sleek mahogany, but the windows were framed with bamboo shutters, and the backroom was separated with shoji sliding doors. It was an curious blend, one that you studied with an interest. The deep, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans heavily imbued the air, filling your nose with the aroma of something far more familiar.

Given it was the late afternoon, and most people tended not to drink caffeine after 2pm, the patrons were few and far in between. Good for you, at least. It meant you wouldn’t get- “Hawks? Sorry to bother you but can we get a picture?” your head turned at the voice that rung out.

Two high school girls stood to your left, hands clutched together in front of their chests and a dark pink coating their cheeks. With a small sigh, you took a step forward in the small queue. Hawks smiled with all the faux charm in the world, an obvious change in his demeanour as his pride spiked.

“Of course! And just as it happens, I have my personal photographer here who can make sure your photos look amazing as you two do!” it took you a moment to register what he had said through the excited squeals of the girls before he clutched your shoulders and pulled you forward, causing you to stumble slightly.

“Your what?” he sent you an audacious smirk, willing you to play along as one of the girls handed you her phone. Your first instinct was to decline, but as you met the eyes of the girls, so eager and bright, you couldn’t find it in you to disappoint them.

Taking a couple steps back, you lifted the phone, slightly angling it so the picture looked more natural, and not that of a celebrity and their fans (even if it was). You squinted angrily at the poor lighting, but tried to rectify it the best you could. The girls looked a little tense, but Hawks was a natural. A liberal smirk played on his lips and shoulders rolled back, relaxed. Even with the low lighting, the highlights on his cheekbone and jawline were indescribably perfect, and you weren’t sure if the credit should go to you or his god-like genes.

“Wow, that’s perfect!” one of the girls cried, her body appearing by your side. You hadn’t even noticed her moving, “thank you so much!” you just nodded, handing her back her phone and crossing your arms, eyes narrowing at Hawks.

“If that’s all, ladies, we best be ordering,” they nodded frantically at Hawks’ words, sharply bowing and spouting their thanks to the two of you countless times. They left the Starbucks, but even outside you could still hear them fawning over the picture. He faced you with a grin, but you couldn’t muster up a smile.

“Don’t go around telling people I’m your personal photographer,” you sneered. He pouted, looking genuinely disappointed for a second. “What, you don’t wanna be mine?” “Not in the slightest.”

“What will be your order, Miss?” the barista had directed the question at you, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere. You weren’t surprised, but a small swell of annoyance grew in your mind.

“Can I have a mocha with a double shot of expresso?” Hawks chuckled.

“Might as well have an expresso, you know. You’re basically just taking a shot of caffeine,” you shrugged.

“It’s my favourite drink. I like the chocolate taste,” he looked at you with round eyes, a small squeeze in his chest.

“And you, sir?”

“Oh, I’ll have the same, then,” he didn’t miss the way your eyes darted to him. The barista nodded, tapping for a couple seconds before turning back.

“That’ll be 660 yen,” “I’m paying,” Hawks blurted, even before you could offer. You were silent, a small nod in the affirmative rocking your head. As he handed over the bills, he chuckled. “You know, not that I mind, but usually couples would argue over who’s paying,” you rolled your eyes.

“We’re not a couple,” you watched the barista prepare your drinks, more of a way to occupy yourself rather than a genuine interest, “besides, you’re a lot richer than I am. I don’t mean to be impolite, but I’m sure you can lose 600 yen and still be good,” he hummed happily.

“No disagreements there.” “Are you two eating in or taking out?” the barista asked, in the midst of securing the plastic lids to the top of the cups. Hawks’ eyes sparkled as he turned to you with an excitement you assumed only appeared in children.

“Hey, we can-” “Take out,” you responded, giving a now deflated Hawks a challenging look, “I will leave you here if I have to.” the blonde grinned. “You wouldn’t. You need me for the pictures,” he sang, voice jovial.

“I don’t care about you that much. The sunflowers are probably less annoying subjects anyway,” oh. With no warning, his heart beat sped up, his wings puffing out slightly. Sure, he wouldn’t mind if you were a little nicer to him, but your insults were like a breath of fresh air. There was no doubt that Hawks loved the limelight, loved the popularity he got, but the relentless ass-kissing got old after a while. You kept him on his toes. Even if he was just constantly chasing after you every time you brushed him off, he didn’t care.

“Put those away, bird brain,” it was then he realised his wings had spread further than he intended, stretched out on either side of him. One was curled right around his face, and he almost felt himself blushing as he pulled them in. It was just animal instincts, he assured himself.

The rest of the journey was filled with a one-sided conversation of him talking and commenting on what was around you, with no response from you except the occasional witty retort or light-hearted jab at his expense, each one making his heart flutter. It wasn’t too long before you had arrived, the chain link fence around the plot stretching high above your head and corroded with orange rust.

Rows and rows of bright yellow sunflowers stretched to the horizon, an immense display of summer vitality. The fragrance was potent, a sort of cloying sweetness that you didn’t hate. And just as you were about to enter, you knew you had made a mistake.

“Oh.” Hawks stared at you incredulously, attention switching from your taken aback expression to the sign posted on the gate.

“You didn’t check to see it was open?” you looked up at him, allowing him to survey a tinge of remorse he hadn’t recognised until this point.

“Look, how was I supposed to know? This place has always been open at this time since I was a little kid,” you rubbed your arm, brows furrowed. Hawks sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

“Well, the sun’s too low to go anywhere else outside,” he shrugged, “it’s no biggie, I guess. Those other photos weren’t too bad. Hey, now that we’re free, do you want to- what are you doing?” your foot was halfway in the gaps in the gate, the wedges on your heels making it hard to climb.

“I’m not wasting my day for nothing,” you growled, fingers curling around the metal, “get climbing, bird boy,” with a soft sigh, smile gracing his lips and a warm feeling in his chest, Hawks spread his wings.

“I think you’re forgetting something that’ll make this a lot easier,” you felt a cool draft on your back as Hawks flapped his wings, the feeling being quickly replaced by the warmth of his chest as he pulled you in. A foreign emotion coiled in your stomach, but you convinced yourself that it was just the flight.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other supporting your knees, and all Hawks was thinking that such a gentle flight never felt so calming.

Your feet tapped against the soft soil, sinking in to it slightly when the hero placed you down. You nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go over there, I want the sun coming in from the right,” Hawks nodded, content to just follow your orders. You pulled the tripod from your bag and set it up, adjusting it to your liking as Hawks looked around, trying to think of a pose.

Once everything was ready, you turned your attention to Hawks.

“I want to humanise you,” he grinned curiously as you walked over.

“What do you mean by that?” he nearly gasped when you grabbed his chin, angling his face to the side and slightly up, towards the sun. You took a step closer, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He bit his lip, hands trembling as you tugged slightly, trying to mess it up a little.

“All the photos I’ve seen on you always put a huge emphasis on either your wings or your hero status, and I don’t really see why,” you mumbled, placing one hand on his jawline while the other fixed his hair to your liking, letting a few strands fall in front of his eyes, “I think that just creates a divide. If they wanted you to seem angelic they should play that up, not just have it the norm,” you huffed, “anyway, I wanna put the emphasis on you and not your wings. So ideally if you could tuck them behind your back that would be wonderful,”

Hawks nodded, disappointment filling him as you stepped away. He made sure not to move as he awkwardly folded his wings over each other and pulled them in, glancing at you with a look of apprehension. You just nodded in approval, leaning down to your camera.

You took plenty of shots, allowing him plenty more opportunities to feel your hands on him (and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it).

“Hey, why were you so late today?” Hawks dared to question while you were analysing your photos. You were perched on a bench, appreciating your work. The late sun cast a golden sheen on his skin, the spattering of glimmering rays highlighting his face in all the right places.

“I was sleeping,” you responded, deleting an out of focus shot. His eyes narrowed.

“What?” “Just as it sounds. Figured if they were gonna make me work so I could only have three hours of sleep a night it was gonna be on their time, not mine,” he frowned, taking a seat next to you.

“They shouldn’t work you that hard,” you shrugged with a hollow laugh, blank gaze in your eyes.

“What am I gonna do? Have them fire me? As much as I hate this job it’s the only thing that pays for my coffee in the morning,” he was silent as you stood up, stretching your arms behind your bag before tucking everything back in your bag.

“Did you want to be a photographer?” he questioned, only to be met with a forlorn smile.

“Maybe at one point.” the two of you lapsed into silence before you sighed.

“Well, I’ve gotta submit these to Mizuki, and I’m sure you need-” Hawks caught your wrist, spinning you back around.

In the glow of the sunset, you looked almost ethereal. Your eyes gleamed, and cheeks warmed in the orange flare. Sunflowers framed your form, and the words caught in his throat, nearly stopping him from saying anything at all.

“Come work for me.” he blurted. You snorted.

“No.” all he could do was smile as you hopped back over the fence, not waiting up for him.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

231 notes · View notes

sleepysailorjunko · 3 years

Text

Benny's Big Score

It turns out that New Reno was not a great place.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, a solution to his problems. But it wasn't.

New Reno was dirty, but not in the same glimmery-glittery way that New Vegas was. It wasn't like when he had come to Vegas for the first time, the Bootstraps with him. He was alone. There were no chairmen to protect him, no brothers willing to die with him.

Sitting in the dingy bar, he curses the courier under his breath.

"Oh, don't get me started on Couriers." a melodic voice chimed in. A smooth-voiced ghoul in a fancy pre-war tuxedo sat down on the barstool next to Benny. "You wouldn't know the half of it."

"A courier done you wrong too?"

"I gave as good as I got." the ghoul replied, and in him, Benny recognized that they were both well-dressed men who had been chased out by couriers.

"And yet we're still sitting here in this bar, ring-a-ding." Benny took a sip of his drink. Disgusting as it was (and expensive!), Benny's pride as a Bootstrap and leader of the Chairmen kept him from spitting it out. "Say, who are you anyhow?"

The ghoul rolled his eyes under the sunglasses he wore.

"200 years ago everyone knew my name. Dean Domino's the name, don't wear it out."

Benny's eyes widened.

"That for real? Where ya been hiding out all this time?" Benny questioned, leaning on the bar counter. "Could have used you back in New Vegas."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Dean answered smoothly. Benny prodded at him again in his "Ring-a-Ding-Ding" fashion, and Dean sighed before answering. "The Sierra Madre."

"Woah, let's keep it in the grove. You," He paused for emphasis. "Are the ghoulified version of prewar icon Dean Domino and you've been hiding out in the casino in the land of the dead?"

"Yes, I suppose if you put it like that."

"I'm the Ben-man, the kingpin of the whole Strip." Benny said, bitterly drinking from his glass. "Or I was."

"Taken down by a courier?" Dean snarked.

"Ain't that a kick in the head. You think you put one in the ground but then they follow you home and try and climb in your bed. Ruin your damn plans. But I'll be back."

"The courier-I never caught their name-banned me from Vegas. They threated to kill me if they ever saw me again. As if they'd get the chance."

"You and me, we're men cut from the same cloth." Benny said, and Dean looked over him.

"Are we really?"

"Yeah, we're both men screwed over by couriers when we could've been kings!" Benny rubbed his hand over his jaw, and then continued. "Y'know...we oughta get together sometime. We could get revenge on the Mojave Express and I have a lot of draw in New Vegas. I could even get you a job preforming in the Tops. Hell, even the Lucky 38."

"Why not?" Dean agreed. Thinking a moment, he asked. "That courier you knew, did they have a large scar on their head?"

"They did actually...a gift from me. Tie, I think that's their name. Well, it's what their boy-toy sniper-type called them when they weren't trying to jump into bed with me."

"Two birds with one stone." Dean said. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, pal."

It took time to get back to New Vegas. This gave them time to plan and plot and scheme about how to get their revenge on the courier.

More or less, it was easy for them to get into the Strip. After all, this was the land that Benny was Chairman of. He was also very skilled with computers, so it wasn't a challenge for Benny to hack into the securitrons.

Their first stop in Vegas was Mick and Ralph's. Throwing a cap to the crier boy outside the story, Benny asked "Are your old men inside?"

The boy responded and Benny strolled into the building like he owned it. Explaining to Dean, he added, "It helps to bring flowers home."

"Benny." Mick greeted shortly.

"Mick, my guy! How's the family?" Benny sidled up to the store owner. "Say, have you gotten any flowers in lately?"

Mick sighed and retreated to the back room. He returned with a wilted bouquet.

"I've only got these in because of Pacer. You know how he's gonna get, you're throwing of his plans with" Mick complained, but Benny cut him off.

"Tell him to send all his complaints to the Tops!" He exclaimed and snatched the bouquet. It was dry and wilty, formed from common Mojave plants rather than one made from Vault-Tec's greenrooms. It must have come in with Crimson Caravans, Benny thought, but Swank would like it well enough.

He shoved a couple caps into Mick's hand-underpaying people was something that got him into trouble before.

"To the Tops!" He called, and Dean followed him.

"Ugh. How things have changed." Dean groaned. "What have you done with the place?"

"Seal it, Dean-o! I've got a man to see. Our plan won't work without Swank."

The man in the check-in window looked up when Benny said his name.

"Shit, Benny. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Missed you too, Swank. You didn't even kiss me goodbye."

"You're not supposed to be here. I know you tried to kill that courier."

"C'mon, Swank. You've gotta let me explain." He gestured with the bouquet. "I brought you flowers."

Swank looked like he was conflicted, but then he sighed.

"Fine. Explain then, boss."

"Alright, so the courier. I did try and kill that courier, but I had good reason for it. You've got to believe me. I needed the platinum chip."

"You can't just keep saying I have to let you explain and I have to believe you. It doesn't work that way. But I'll bite. What's a platinum chip and why did you need it?"

"It's what we need. If we have it, we can upgrade the securitrons and then we won't need the NCR or the Legion or House to protect New Vegas." He smiled bitterly. "It would have been freedom for all of us."

Swank looked at Benny silently.

"I know why I failed now. I needed you and the Chairmen. I needed you."

That seemed to certify it for Swank. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled.

"Alright Benny. But this is the last time. You mess this up and it'll be the end-not just for you and me, but for all of us." He made cautious and firm eye contact with Benny. "What's the plan?"

"You're the man, Swank!" Benny shouted excitedly and leaned over the weapon-check counter to wrap a hand around Swank's shoulder and pull him down for a kiss. Releasing him, he continued. "Oh, it's a doozy of a plan."

Swank looked around and then signalled to another Chairman.

"You take over here." He said, and stepped out from behind the weapon check counter.

The plan was a doozy, Swank thought as he walked from the Tops to the Lucky 38. He hoped the Courier was staying there tonight. If not, he'd have to regroup with Benny and Dean to send them to the Atomic Wrangler instead.

Night had fallen quickly over New Vegas in the hours after Benny had made up with Swank, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted when Swank bumped into someone.

"Watch it," He barked. Looking at the young woman, he realized she was a courier-she had a courier's duster loosely over a purple shirt-but not the one they were going to kill.

"Eh? Did you need something?" She said, "I'm going to Show Low."

It was a dangerous route for a courier because it went right into Legion teritory, but Swank didn't care. It seemed like a good idea at the time, a solution to his problems. But it wasn't.

"Sorry. Good luck!" He said and continued on route to the Lucky 38.

"You too?" Swank heard, but there was a lot of noise. The Strip was loud.

Arriving at the Lucky 38, he let himself in. The collar weighed heavily in his pocket, but he knew that was just in his head. It couldn't weigh more than a pound or two.

"Hello?" he called. "I need to speak to the Courier? It's really important..."

There wasn't any response for a moment. Then the elevator chimed and two people exited.

One was the Courier, and the other was a bitter-faced sniper with an NCR beret.

"Oh...Mr. Tops?" The courier said. "Did you need something? We were just on our way out..."

"Yes, and it's very important. And it can't wait." Swank replied

The little computer on the Courier's arm beeped.

"Alright, what's going on?"

"Sit down, this is very important news." The courier sat down. The sniper stood to the side.

His hands were starting to sweat and he wiped them on his suitpants. Ugh, he could almost hear Benny scolding him for dirtying it.

"I've discovered..." He spoke softly...and the courier leaned into hear better. Just as they planned. "Sorry."

With that, he swiftly reached into his coat pocket and snapped the collar around the courier's neck. It latched closed and armed before they could even move.

They startled back, but it was of no use.

"Recognize it, courier?" a charismatic and smooth voice called as Dean Domino and Benny Gecko strolled into the lobby of the Lucky 38.

The Courier's face was fearful, but the sniper's eyes were full of rage. Their hands clawed at their throat, but it was futile against the explosive collar.

"I wouldn't do that, Pussycat." Benny's voice chimed in. "It's rigged to blow. But I'm sure you knew that. According to my new friend here, you've had some experience with them."

"Dean." They said quietly. " You were warned. I told you what I'd do if I ever saw you again. I'll kill you even if I have to take you down with me."

"Geez, Domino, what'd you do to make 'em hate you so bad?" Benny ran a hand through his hair. "I shot them in the head-twice, even-and left them for dead. And they still tried to sleep with me! Oh, and I wouldn't go making any moves there, friend, unless you'd like your little courier blown to bits. Or do, it would make it easier on me."

"I believe it was that I had their little friend's vocal cords ripped out. Or maybe it was the whole threatening to blow them up." Dean answered. "I never narrowed it down."

"Wow, Benny!" the Pip-Boy beeped. "I never thought I'd see you again! You keep some interesting friends!"

"Yes-Man?" Benny questioned, and then waved it aside. "Eh, never mind. When I've got the platinum chip, I can fix whatever they did to you."

"Yes-Man," Antietam said, dropping their hands from their neck "Could you keep it down? I'm about to get blown up."

"No, you're not." Boone reassured them quietly. "Gotta be some way to take these guys out..."

Internally, Antietam was weighing whether it was worth it to charge Dean and take him down with them. But there was a likelihood of Boone being injured in the blast, so it wasn't going to work out.

"Now, now Courier..." Dean said. "Where did you take the treasure when you ran off? You ruined over two hundred years worth of revenge."

The courier wanted to lash out, but they reigned their temper in.

"You ruined it...You ruined the whole Sierra Madre, did you know that? It could have been a safe haven, a shelter from the nuclear anihilation. But you couldn't tolerate what you percieved as an insult to your ego! And you ruined Vera's life-she was dying and you blackmailed her!" Their vitreolic rant paused. It wasn't the whole sad story, but the only one who knew that was Antietam. And they were too angry and biased against Dean to really care that their rant was biased. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Woah, let's calm down, Pussycat. You keep yourself under control or one of us might just forget ourselves and hit that button. We wouldn't want that, now would we? Let's get down to business." Christine and Veronica ran downstairs.

"Hey, what's going on? We heard commotion." Veronica said, and then when she saw the situation, she put her hands on her hips. "Are you guys having a party without me?"

Christine, on the other hand, growled.

"Dean." It came out in Vera's voice, and if Dean had skin, it would have gone pale with fear. As it was, it broke his composure.

"So it worked." He said finally.

"Alright, don't make any moves!" Benny shouted. "You try anything and I'll blow your friend to smithereens."

"Who are these guys?" Veronica asked.

"Some guys who tried to kill Tie before, I think." Boone answered

"Dean Domino, Swank Gecko-Pierce, and I'm the pro from Dover." Benny barked. "Now I want answers! Where's the platinum chip?"

None of them answered.

"I guess none of you value the Courier's life, seeing as none of you are providing answers." He pulled Maria from his pocket. "No matter. We'll start with the boy toy."

With that, he leveled Maria at Boone.

"Things are getting a little heated, Benny." Swank said, making eye contact with the checker-suited man.

"Stop." The Courier said. "I'll tell you where I hid the chip. Just let my friends go."

"Benny, this is getting more heated than I thought it would." Swank noted.

"Can it, Swank. We're about to get some answers!" Benny responded.

"It's in the dresser in the motel in Novac. Let my friends go, Benny."

"It's like it doesn't even matter to you!" Benny exclaimed. "It-" Swank cut him off by setting a hand on Benny's outstretched arm.

"Benny, calm down. We don't have time for his right now."

"Yeah, Benny, calm down." Dean chimed in, although it was clearly mocking him, which Benny picked up on immediately.

"You got something to add, Deano?" Benny snarked back.

"You know, Ben-man, I think I'm tired of playing accomplice. I'm so tired of playing second fiddle...I think I'll kill you and your friends and claim New Vegas for my own."

"Yeah, that's not happening." Benny fired back. He pointed Maria at Dean. "It's been real and it's been great, but it's not real great."

He fired.

"Shit, Benny, you missed." Swank said, to which Benny responded "Shut up, I know I missed."

He shot again and again and Dean didn't move, until he slumped to the ground, full of lead.

"Well, that's a bust." Benny said. "Hey, whataya say, Courier? We can burry the hatchet with this guy and work together. I won't kill you or your little friends and you won't kill me and Swank. Fair's fair, right?"

It was a stretch-even now, Christine and Veronica's nimble fingers were removing the explosive collar from the angry courier's throat. But Benny had always been a gambling man.

#benny new vegas #benny gecko #benny fnv #swank fnv #fallout new vegas #fnv #craig boone #courier antietam #courier 6 #courier six #dean domino #veronica santangelo #christine royce #if you find all the references to mash dm me and I'll draw/write you something as a prize!#i really wanted Benny's plan to work out-he has Swank with him now -so it should work right?#benny's big score #Benny x Swank

36 notes · View notes

btsinwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 13: Hogsmeade

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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

It was a brisk fall morning where the first chill of the coming winter snuck up on you. You wrapped your scarf around your neck tighter and yawned. Another restless night passed with terrifying dreams of Fenris and the bloodbath he left behind him.

You stood in a loose huddle of several students outside the entrance doors to the school. There was the sound of chitchat in the air as you all waited for the teachers. The trees swayed in the wind and a yellowing leaf fell in a spiral and landed on your shoulder. Valkyrie walked over to you with a smile on her face as you brushed off the leaf. It faded slightly upon looking at you.

“Are you okay?” she said, watching you.

You nodded with another yawn. “Bad dreams.”

“Dreams...or something else?”

You might have answered her but were cut off when Pom and Nila came up to the both of you. They had excited smiles on their faces.

“I can’t believe we finally get to go to Hogsmeade!” Pom said with a smile.

Nila agreed exuberantly. “I’ve been itching to go to Honeydukes!”

Valkyrie raised a brow. “Don’t forget we have the ball on Wednesday night, ladies. I, for one, am planning on gettin’ some before everything goes to shit.”

Pom looked at Valkyrie wide eyed while Nila blushed. “Getting what?” Pom said.

You and Valkyrie snort-laughed and Nila started giggling. Pom continued to ask Valkyrie what she was talking about when Professor Heimdall and Professor Fandral arrived at the top of the stairs.

Professor Heimdall wore a long tan cloak over his robes and clasped his hands in front of him. “Students, you will be split off into two groups. One with me and one with Professor Fandral. We are incorporating a buddy system, so pick a partner and do not separate from them. This year we were not planning to go to Hogsmeade, but upon reviewing many requests and with careful planning, we believe it is acceptable. What is not acceptable,” he said, passing a look to each student; his eyes lingered on you briefly, “is to leave your buddy, or your group and venture off alone. The grounds are no longer as safe as they were before. Be wise.”

He said no more as Professor Fandral began to split the groups. You, Valkyrie, Nila and Pom excitedly climbed into a carriage, which eventually trailed behind Professor Heimdall’s. His warning stayed with you as you thought about long teeth and hungry eyes. Despite the fear that had permanently settled in the pit of your stomach, you enjoyed feeling the fresh air on your skin as the carriages took off. The wind was cold, but you had not realized how stifling it was in the castle until you had been outside.

You wondered what a carriage ride with Professor Laufeyson would be like. A blush creeped to your cheeks when you thought about detention with him from a couple of nights ago. The word ‘master’ rested on your lips like a secret behind everything else you said out loud. It was just for him. That night, you went back to your room in a heated daze and wondered what you had gotten yourself into. But the more you thought about it, the more your heart raced with want. You enjoyed calling him master, and you liked the way he looked at you when you did.

“What is going on in that head of yours?” Valkyrie said, elbowing you.

You jerked upright and smiled bashfully. “Nothing, I’m just thinking about what to wear.”

Just then, Pom and Nila deep dived into their clothing assessments and what was in season versus not. You absolutely had no idea how they had obtained this information, but appreciated the feedback. After a long lecture about colour coordination and matching shoes and accessories while balancing complementary colour contrast, the carriages finally arrived at Hogsmeade.

The four of you stuck together and plowed your way through Hogsmeade in a thorough fashion. First you visited Honeydukes, which was decorated completely in black for the season; it was as if the whole shop were dipped in an inkwell. Nila bought an entire bag worth of chocolate frogs, Burtie Botts, every flavour beans, blood pops (to which you wrinkled your nose), and cauldron cakes. Valkyrie bought bouncing bubbly which was a soft drink that made her bounce as if she was on the moon. The novelty wore off quickly since Valkyrie quite enjoyed bouncing above you and smacking your head. You were relieved once you entered Gladrags; there was a strict no enchantment policy and Valkyrie had to stand outside until the effects wore off. The three of you snickered and gave her a mock wave through the window. As she bounced in place, she mouthed: “I could murder you in your sleep, you know.”

You laughed and walked into the store, looking at the various fabrics and clothes they had on display. There were enchanted mannequins walking through the store and dancing every now and again for the customers. A small girl tugged at her father’s coat and pointed to a model just a few inches taller than her. Its face was a flat piece of wood and the thing danced around the girl, doing a pirouette with the bright green dress it was wearing along the way. The girl was mesmerised. You smiled and had to give credit to Gladrags; they knew how to market.

Pom and Nila immediately ran to the hats section where there were shelves upon shelves of all sorts of hats. Plumes of feathers stuck to the side of a large orange hat, while another was a green beret seemingly constructed of snakeskin. One hat seemed to have no set shape or colour, but was a fluid moving thing that sparkled when the light hit it. All the hats were magnificent, though you were never much of a hat person. You went to the back, near the sale items, to see if there was anything that you could afford. It had been quite a year gathering enough money to meet your supplies and tuition costs for the year. You hoped that once you aced all your exams, a scholarship or internship could be earned. Though once you saw Professor Laufeyson’s memories, your thoughts about joining the ministry were on pause.

As if the devil himself heard, you heard a familiar voice from your left.

“Good morning, Miss Eves,” Professor Laufeyson said.

You flinched, nearly knocking over a nearby twirling mannequin which actually hissed at you. “Professor! What are you doing here?”

His eyes narrowed, and he looked as if you had committed a grave mistake. “What was that?”

“I-” You thought about it for a moment. Ah yes….your voice got lower, “Master, what are you doing here?”

He lit up and smiled at you. You wondered if you would ever get used to that.

“I have some business to attend to,” he said.

It was hard not to roll your eyes at how insanely cryptic he was. You were about to question further, but Valkyrie came.

“Professor! Fancy seeing you here,” she said, looking between you and him. You tried to put on your most neutral expression.

“Hogsmeade used to be quite the haunt for me when I was a student here,” Professor Laufeyson said, glancing out the window. “I particularly enjoyed Zonko’s. Well, are you young ladies finding dresses for the ball?”

“Yes!” Pom said from behind a rack of clothes. “And we found the perfect one for you, Freya,” she said, bringing out a frilly dark purple dress that had a mermaid style bottom and an attached cloak that looked more like a cape.

Valkyrie gasped with laughter when you took the dress and promised Pom you would try it on. You thanked her and elbowed Valkyrie. Professor Laufeyson looked as if he was trying to conceal a small smile.

The other girls left in a mad dash when Nila spotted a row of silk scarves that were on sale. Valkyrie went with them, giving you a strange look that showed you would be interrogated very soon.

“You better go try on that aubergine of a dress,” Professor Laufeyson said with a smirk.

You laughed. “I think I’m going to go with my outfit from last year,” you said, putting the purple nightmare back on the rack. “These new fashion trends are getting out of hand, they’re not for me.”

Professor Laufeyson grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. Your heart raced as he held your face in his hand. You prayed no one saw you. “Nothing here could do justice to the body underneath these clothes,” he said, his voice husky. Just as you leaned in towards him, he pulled away. You made the tiniest annoyed sound, and he chuckled.

He said goodbye, and you joined up with the girls to continue on their shopping spree. Nila had gotten a peach coloured dress that had a tight waist and billowing skirt. Pom got a short purple dress that was clean cut and cute. Valkyrie got a crimson dress that had a courageous slit down the side and a neckline that wound around her neck in a halter top. Your stomachs rumbled loudly, so the four of you headed into the Three Broomsticks, a pub down the road. Since Hogsmeade knew well that Hogwarts students were coming in today, they allowed minors into the pub.

You sat at a table and were surprised to see Professor Laufeyson sitting rather reluctantly with Professor Heimdall and Professor Fandral. They did not see the four of you slip into the booth just behind them, a wall between you. There was enough chatter in the pub to conceal your voices, though you kept it down just enough to hear what the teachers were saying.

Someone cleared their throat. You recognized Heimdall’s voice; it was rich and deep. “Loki, how is your semester going so far?”

Professor Laufeyson’s voice was effortless, as usual. “Teaching is such a noble profession, I ought to have tried it much earlier in life.”

“You were missing from the staff meeting last Saturday,” Heimdall said. His words asked without stating explicitly, why?

Professor Laufeyson let out a small laugh. “I had to drop everything and come here after Hubert’s passing, so when I can I must tie up some loose ends.”

“What might Loki Laufeyson’s loose ends be, I wonder?” Heimdall said, his voice low.

The server came by and dropped off drinks at their table. He then came to your table and took your orders. The other girls had lost interest at this point and began chatting, but you craned your neck to the edge of the wall to keep listening.

“...yes, I will be in and out after the ball. Business to attend to before we dive head first into midterms,” Professor Laufeyson said.

He was leaving? You wondered. He had told you he would not go after Fenris until the coldest night of winter, and you believed that. Your fingers tapped nervously, thinking about what else he was up to. Aside from seeing him in class and detention, you had no way of knowing where he was or what he was doing. It was not as if he was even remotely communicative about his life. The most you knew about him was from breaking into his memory bank like a thief in the night.

The conversation shifted to Professor Fandral talking about his wife and children and how difficult it was to leave them for semesters at a time. Eventually, their chairs shuffled and the four of you put your heads down and ate your meals. Your shepherd’s pie had gone cold but was still quite delicious.

About an hour later, you were back in the school, heading to your common room, evading Valkyrie so she would not ask you about Professor Laufeyson. You were just not ready to have any sort of proper conversation about it yet. You had no idea what was happening, and a part of you felt immensely guilty about the whole thing. At least if it was your personal secret, you could chalk it up to a delusion or dream and still function properly. But once you verbalized it, it was real. Far too real for anything you wanted to deal with now.

In the hall, you spotted a ghostly figure running towards you. Well, half of a ghostly figure. The legs and torso of Crazy Collin ran past you in a gust of cool air. A few minutes later, you saw the upper part floating by.

“‘Ave you seen me legs?” he said. His translucent face was even younger than you.

You pointed behind you. “They went that way.” You smiled as he waved at you and floated onwards in search of his legs. He was always found roaming the halls searching for the bottom half of his body, and it was a fun game that occupied most first years, helping Crazy Collin find his legs.

Suddenly, you thought about Pom’s brother Ken, who now had a missing arm, and your smile disappeared. Most of the time you had laughed at the ghosts of Hogwarts, but you realized they were all people once who had died an awful death. The thought both sobered and saddened you.

***

The next day you were seated in potions class with Pom next to you, taking notes on the use of a bezoar. Professor Laufeyson had put on a slideshow and you tried not to yawn, though his voice was like melted honey.

Something hit the side of your head and fell at your feet. You glanced around before picking it up.

“What is it?” Pom whispered.

It was a crumpled piece of paper and upon unrolling it, you saw an enchanted drawing of two stick figures dancing. One of them had two circles for its breasts and an arrow pointing to the figure that said “You” and the other stick figure had an arrow that said “Me”. You looked up and saw Nathan Gill, the sixth year Quidditch announcer, smiling at you. He pointed to you, then he mimed a little slow dance, and then pointed to himself, all the while mouthing the words, “Do you want to go to the ball with me?”

The paper was snatched from your hand before you could react and you were horrified to see Professor Laufeyson standing over you with a grim expression. “Passing notes in class?” He said with a touch of venom. After reading the note aloud in class for everyone to laugh at, he took five points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

“Harsh,” Pom said, and you did not reply.

At the end of class, you escaped out the door before meeting Professor Laufeyson’s eye, since you were far too embarrassed. Then Nathan found you.

“So, Eves, you want to go with me?” He said, brandishing a daring smile.

He was a year younger than you, though he was taller and his face was not all boyish. His brown eyes held an air of confidence and his dark brown skin glowed in the torchlights. He leaned against the wall next to you, casual yet focused on your face in a way that made you blush. You wished you could seriously consider him. Perhaps if he had come to you only a month earlier, you would not be in this mess at all. A boy like him was normal. A boy like him was far better suited for you. But alas, even though you thought he was invariably handsome and were somewhat attracted to his presence, your heart was doomed to stay in one place.

You smiled at him and were about to speak when Pom piped up out of nowhere, “yes she’s gonna go with you!”

Nathan smiled so brightly that you felt the words escape you. He leaned in and tucked a hair behind your ear. “See you then,” he said in a low voice and walked off with his friends.

Just then, Professor Laufeyson passed by with an icy expression. He glanced at you and Pom as if you were stones on the wall and continued on his way, not giving you another look. Your heart sank while Pom excitedly grabbed your arm. “Oh my god, Gill is so cute! Sorry I stepped in, but I had to! I thought you were going to throw up or say no, so I did what any good friend ought to do.” She smiled at you and you nodded hollowly, wondering what Professor Laufeyson had thought.

You were on your way to the Great Hall for lunch as you puzzled about Nathan. Pom had gone to the infirmary to check on her brother. The staircase you were climbing up moved and pulled you away from your path and down an empty corridor that would add another ten minutes to your walk. A sigh escaped your lips as you continued to wonder. Why would he ask you? You barely talked to him. Once you had given him ink when he ran out, and so perhaps he was just being nice -

A hand grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you into a room you had not realized was there. The door shut and vanished, leaving only stone, and you were slammed against the wall with a hard body against yours. The familiar scent of flora and musk hit your senses, and you gazed into a pair of cold blue eyes. His hand clasped around your throat as he leaned in and spoke in your ear.

“Did you think you could get away with being such a tease?” Professor Laufeyson said, his voice was a growl.

You dropped your books and panted. “W-what do you mean sir - er, I mean - Master?”

“That boy was all over you like a dog. Did you hope to make me jealous?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said. Fear bubbled in your stomach at his aggression, but more than that was another feeling...One that was going to get you into deep trouble. Your cheeks flushed, and you felt desire bloom within you. The feeling of his hand on your throat only made it worse - or better - and you felt your core tighten.

He laughed darkly and for a moment; you wondered if it had all been a joke. Then his eyes grew fierce, and he stopped smiling. “It worked.”

You gazed up at him and licked your lips reflexively. His pupils dilated, and he lost his composure. His lips collided with yours and you felt the heat of his breath against you. They were the softest lips you had ever felt, but they crashed onto yours with a ferocity that made your knees weak. He pushed you into the wall to deepen the kiss and you wound your hands around him, one hand reaching up to the back of his head.

He moved his free hand down and cupped your bottom. You raised your right leg around his waist, which he held in place. Your tongues clashed, and you licked his lips as if you were back in a dream. He lifted your other leg, so you were now pinned against the wall, straddling him. He pushed into you and you wrapped your arms around him tightly. There were no thoughts, only the feeling of his fingers digging into your body as his mouth invaded yours. When you felt his erection against your core, a cry escaped your lips. He rubbed it against you once more and you bit his lip, hard.

He chuckled and gently pulled away from you, easing you down. You gazed at each other as if your eyes were magnetically locked. Both of you panted and wiped the corners of your mouth. “You’ve grown quite...assertive, Miss Eves,” he said in a rough voice. He tried to put on a candid act, but you saw through it. He was trying to suppress his desire.

You stepped towards him and put a hand on his chest. “I don’t want to go to the ball with anybody else,” you said.

His face froze, not knowing what to show you. So he chuckled and spun you around, putting a hand on your collarbone. His thumb grazed your throat, and you wondered if flames would erupt across your skin. “You will go to the ball with this boy,” he said. And he licked your ear and bit the lobe. You closed your eyes and nearly moaned. “You will dance with him, have a drink, and do what young women do at balls,” he said as he moved his other hand to your waist, squeezing it. “And at the end of the night, you will come to my room, and I will punish you for all of it. Do we have an understanding?”

Breathlessly, you said, “yes Master.”

He let go of you and bowed slightly, as if you were a proper lady and not the girl he just ravished against the wall. “Good girl,” he said with a wink.

You were thrown so back and forth with his words that your lust had slowly transformed into a deep hunger...and your stomach growled unceremoniously, loudly. He chuckled at the sound as you crossed your arms around yourself, trying to block out the noise.

“Perhaps we should return to the Great Hall and get you well fed. You need to keep up your energy for the ball,” he said.

You looked around at your surroundings. It was an empty stone room with no doors and a large chandelier in the ceiling. “Where are we?”

He waved his hand at the wall closest to you and a wooden door appeared. “This is the room of requirement,” he said. “It is a room that only appears when you are in great need of it, and it also becomes the room that you need.”

You raised your brows as you passed through the door with him into the empty hall. The door disappeared as if the room was not there. You touched the stone and knocked on it, but it was just a continuous wall. “Just when I thought this place had finished amazing me,” you said.

“Hogwarts will never cease to amaze, love,” Professor Laufeyson said. He stopped when you got to the stairs. “Now, I bid you farewell until the ball. Be sure to get into heaps of trouble,” he said, smirking.

“Oh, I will,” you said with a wide smile. The butterflies flowed freely through your body and you felt electrified. Suddenly, the ball had gotten much more exciting and you could not wait for Wednesday night.

You ran down the corridor, back to the main level, where several students ran past you. The smell of food wafted through the halls and your stomach grumbled more, so you picked up the pace. Another scent caught your nose, and you wondered what it was, since it definitely was not food. As you walked, you realized that the floor was covered in water. Puzzled, you entered the main corridor which led to the Great Hall and found a large crowd of students standing there.

You spotted Valkyrie ahead of you, so you pushed your way through several students, mumbling an apology, and tapped her shoulder. She looked at you grimly and gestured to the wall with her eyes. When your gaze followed, you stepped back with a hand to your chest. There was a message on the wall, written in blood. The nauseating scent of iron was thick in the air. The message wrote:

The beast has awakened...Enemies of the heir, beware...

27 notes · View notes

seodami · 3 years

Text

Train to you | CBG

Genre: ANGST, tiny bit fluff in between

Warning: !!!!!! death, suicide, dark thoughts, 1 tiny curse word !!!!!!!

Word count: 3417

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader (GN)

Note: well well well this was ANGSTY gdhsj it’s the first real angst I’ve attempted to write and I cried so...either I am too absorbed into the story or it really is sad haha. Please don’t read this if you have trouble with sensitive topics like these, yet anyone else who dares enjoy :))))

Main Masterlist

You cursed under your breath as you hastily ran up the cold Beton stairs, two steps at a time, trying not to collapse until you at least reached the incoming train. You were late again for work and you could already hear your boss screaming at you for being late the third time this week. It wasn’t fully your fault, you thought in your defence, remembering your defect alarm clock, the emergency call of your friend Soobin and the bottle of wine the previous day. Yes, definitely not your fault this train always leaves this early in the morning.

Lucky for you, the train was still at the platform, signalising the doors were about to close. You quickly squeezed yourself through the door before it was too late and to your surprise, there even were a few seats left. Still panting heavily, you plopped down on a vacant seat while trying to catch your breath. You used your red cardigan to pat away the sweat on your forehead.

It wasn’t until the train slowly started moving, that you caught a glimpse of an all to familiar cardigan outside on the other side of the platform. It was a brown haired boy, who was wearing the exact same clothing piece as you. And the longer you’ve watched him, you noticed that in fact his whole outfit was the same as yours today. Black jeans, red cardigan, black converse and a silver necklace.

You gasped at the boy, trying to not lose him as the train sped up but failed of course. Soon he was way out of sight and reach for you. You felt a weird tuck on your heart. Disappointed. You wanted to look at him just a tad longer.

The boy never left your mind for too long this day, always staying in your memory to be recalled back. He was wearing the same outfit as you, sure it could have been pure coincidence and you knew this world was probably smaller than it seemed but nevertheless, you found it fascinating. It was the first time this ever happened to you.

The next day, you managed to wake up earlier for once, having slept only a little, mind too clouded with everything and nothing at the same time. You were surprisingly excited to go take the train this morning. You didn’t want to tell yourself that it was because you wanted to see the stranger once more. So you nearly ran upstairs, without really needing to hurry, and there you saw him on the other side again.

He wore the same outfit as you again. A beige coat, black turtleneck, blue jeans and a black beret. You didn’t expect this at all, leaving you baffled. Sure, it must have been a coincidence again. But why was he so captivating for you?

You didn’t know how long you just stood there, looking at him and his face, oh his very pretty face. You wanted him to notice you. Just one look maybe? One tiny glance? It would do your strangely beating heart some justice. But he seemed like he was in his own world, smiling up in the sky, eyes slowly following the steady floating clouds.

You asked yourself if he took notice in you as well but soon came to the conclusion that he had not as the train arrived right on time.

You decided to test your outfit theory right the next day, being way too giddy to see the good looking stranger again. Luckily you still had some extremely ridiculous and questionable clothing pieces you buried in the back of your closet, not being all too happy to see your failed purchases again. You made a mental note to donate some of them later on.

You couldn’t hold back a snort when your eyes met yours in the mirror against your closet door. Why exactly were you humiliating yourself again? The pink baggy pants hung low on your hips, paired together with the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. To top it off, you wore your long cheetah print fur coat with a blue collar and you couldn’t resist putting on your red bucket hat. This must do it. If the stranger still happened to wear the exact same outfit as you, you knew it had to be more than coincidence.

And just like that, you found yourself staring at the boy with wide open mouth, gaining weirded out looks from bystanders. He wore it. The same. Your mind was racing with thoughts and possible explanations but you cannot seem to find any. How was this possible? You thought of it as a joke at first but now...you didn’t know what the hell was going on. Were you slowly getting insane? Was he your stalker? But how could he even then have the same ridiculous clothes as you? Maybe he was some kind of soulmate? It sounded hilarious and absolutely mad but so was this situation.

It was short - maybe a split second - and your eyes met. Subconsciously you stepped closer towards the stranger, nearly ignoring the huge gap between you two. He saw you. It almost hit all the air out of you. There was something so familiar about him. Something so...so...unexplainable.

Suddenly your view got blocked and something roughly pulled you back, that you nearly fell right on your butt. Confused, you looked up just to see a mid aged man with a pair of round glasses on his nose. There was a disapproving look on his face, helping you stand straight again.

“Miss, you need to watch out. The train could have hit you.” His voice was stern, making you gasp in realisation with the train slowly coming to a stop in front of you. You really just forgot that you were on a train station. All you thought about was him. About going to him. You just wanted to know his name, having another conversation just between your eyes.

You quickly apologised and thanked the man before stepping inside the train, eyes searching for him. But he wasn’t there anymore. Your heart suddenly hurt - more than before. It was so strong. Where was he? You wanted to see him.

It was that moment when you realized you somehow, not knowing the reason, longed for this person. It was such a deep feeling, you never felt such a strong emotion before in your life. You wanted to cry.

Just as the doors were about to close, you caught a glimpse of a red hat and cheetah print coat right outside, where you just stood seconds before. You didn’t think much, you stood up running towards the door, frantically pushing the opening button again and again, but the doors were already closed. So so close. He was so close. But you couldn’t reach him. Why had you to enter this stupid train? He was right out there looking at you with these big brown eyes. It hurt your soul. He was so pretty. Oh you longed for one touch, one word. Why can’t you be with him?

Your hands were pressed against the cold glass, eyes never leaving his enchanting ones. But the train was already moving. It was too late.

A hand on your shoulder suddenly tore you out of your miserable state. Your heart was hurting so much by now. Why was it hurting so unbearably? “Is everything okay?” A woman with a child on her hand smiled at you sympathetically, offering you a warm hug after she saw the thick tears in your eyes, soon streaming down your warm cheeks.

Why felt it so thorning just to be with him? Why felt it like you just missed your only chance to ever meet him?

“It’s going to be okay.” The woman muttered under her breath, gently rubbing your back. “You are strong.”

The next day you woke up even earlier, almost not finding sleep at all that night. This feeling of lost and utterly sadness and hurt. You felt it ever since he was so close. Ever since you almost were by his side. This feeling never left you.

Today you felt just weak and so exhausted. You didn’t have the energy to go to work but you needed to see him again. One last time?

A white shirt with a pink sweater vest on top and a pair of loose white pants were your fit for today. Your mind wandered to the brown eyed boy as you chose the colourful item out of your wardrobe. It reminded you strangely of him.

With heavy heart, this time you trotted up the stairs, surprisingly noticing not a single soul at the platform. No one but him on the other side. You let out a sigh, you didn’t know you were holding. He was still here. You could’ve hit yourself with the realization that it was in fact Saturday, meaning you didn’t need to go to work today. It was silly of you, but deep down you still would’ve come for him. Only for him.

This time your eyes met immediately and your heart beat picked up. He gave you a bright smile and a tiny wave of his hand, making you nearly choke on air. He looked so pretty in the pink sweater vest, you were absolutely right. His hand was moving again, showing you to come over to him.

You gulped nervously. This was your time. No one would come between you this time. No life saving strangers, no wine bottles, no defect alarm clocks and definitely no trains. Without wasting any more time, now having found a sudden boost of energy, you sprinted down the stairs again, almost tripping over your own feet. You were gonna meet him. Finally.

When you reached the other side of the platform, you frantically looked around, searching for him. But he wasn’t there. You were standing right where he stood. You glanced over at the other side, where you were just coming from, seeing him standing there peacefully still with a smile on his face. He looked ethereal. The sun was on his side, making him glow in a heavenly way, you haven’t seen before. His brown fluffy hair was sweeping softly with the wind and his deep brown eyes sparkled with hope.

Suddenly it was as if your head hit a solid brick wall. Beomgyu. His name was Choi Beomgyu. Beombeom. Your dear Beombeom. How could you ever have forgotten him? The pain in your heart was now as strong as never before. You wanted to die, it was that painful. You fell onto the ground, clutching your heart desperately. Of course.

It was so contradicting. Hot tears were streaming down your face by now, the unbearable pain getting worse every second, yet Beomgyu seemed so peaceful, so calming and so sweet. You needed him for your heart to heal. He was the reason you were here. You needed him by your side.

He smiled and waved you over once again. He was waiting for you. You needed to get to him. With heavy breathing, you heaved yourself up one last time. You couldn’t just give up like that. “Beomgyu...” you screamed with all your energy, sobbing in pain. It was a heart wrenching moment to witness. Beomgyu on the other side nodded smiling, his eyes glistening as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

You couldn’t bear this pain anymore and started running. Right on the rail. You couldn’t care less at that moment. You needed Beomgyu.

You jumped down the ditch onto the track. You were almost there. Just a few more steps and you could touch him. Your heart was getting warmer and warmer. It felt so nice. So comforting. So familiar.

It all seemed to go so well but then it all happened so fast. It went wrong so fast. You could see Beomgyus hand reaching out for yours, just mere centimetres away. Then there was a bright light. A loud noice inside your ears, a shrill scream and an insufferable pain inside your head. It only lasted a split second and then everything was black. The last thing you’ve heard was Beomgyus warm voice calling your name. Then there was nothing.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The next thing you remembered was a bright white light. Then there was a steady peeping noice. And lastly an extreme sterile scent. You already hated it. You longed for the same warmth you felt before, when you were about to be with him.

The first thing you remembered was coughing. Extremely harsh coughing. It was like you were coughing out your soul. You heard more voices, slowly getting clearer to hear, and saw shapes forming behind the bright light.

“Y/N, Y/N honey yn darling do you hear me? Y/N?” Y/N... that was your name. Right? You felt something soft yet ice cold touch for face, something wet touching your nose. Your mom, you thought. It was your mother’s voice.

Before you could realize anything, there were other voices, strange and familiar ones. As you finally could make up semi clear shapes, your eyes met a pair of circular glasses. A brighter light than before was now shining directly into your eyes but soon enough vanished again. You were still coughing.

“Y/N oh my gosh darling, honey, you are back. You made it.” You heard your mother cry besides you, grasping your weak arm as if it was her lifebuoy. “Thank you thank you thank you”

“Miss Y/L/N? Can you hear me?” A mid aged man behind the glasses asked you. You’ve barely managed to open your eyes and look around you, eyes meeting your mothers wet ones. A sob escaped her lips. Beside her you could make out a mob of pink hair. Your brother.

“Miss Y/L/N? Everything is all right. Very good.” A nurse in baby blue clothes spoke gently to you, as you started to gain back some control over your own breathing. You noticed something big inside your mouth, surpressing the urge to cough or vomit it out.

“One second Miss Y/L/N, I will now remove your breathing tube. It won’t hurt, just relax.” She patted your arm and made her way towards your face. A breathing tube? After a few moments you felt a weird sensation inside your throat as if something was pulled out. You immediately started coughing again once the tube was removed but slowly getting a hold of it again.

Yeonjun kneeled down besides your mother, gently taking your hand in his warm one. It was sort of comforting. He had tears in his eyes, eye bags clearly visible on both your mother’s and brothers face. What was going on? Why were they crying?

“All right there, here we go. Welcome back Miss Y/L/N, how are you feeling? Good?” You wanted to say something, your head still spinning, but could only make a hoarse sound, feeling just how sore your throat must have been.

“It’s okay you don’t need to answer yet. You still have a very sore throat due to the Intubation we had to put you through.” The man, you assumed doctor from his white coat, explained you patiently. You managed to nod but you were still trying to figure out the situation. You were more than confused. Why were you here and where was Beomgyu?

You tried speaking again but just a very strained “What-“ could be deciphered, followed by some coughing again. You were feeling weaker than ever and everything hurt.

The doctor nodded sympathetically, already knowing what you were about to ask. Your eyes wandered wordlessly to your brother’s and mom’s. They looked so hurt, yet relieved.

“Let me explain. You must have a lot of questions right now. We take everything slowly, alright?” You nodded again, Yeonjun slightly squeezing your hand. “You just woke up from a four week lasting coma as you previously had been rushed into hospital after a collision with a train.”

You noticed your mother sob harder than before, your brother gently laying an arm over her shoulder. “You tried to kill yourself Y/N...” Yeonjun whispered, heart breaking once more. It all came flooding back at once. Your head hurt at the sudden heavy feeling growing inside your breast, overtaking your heart in just seconds. You felt devestating.

Tears welled up in your eyes, remembering what you did, what you wanted so dearly and why you did it. You remembered the last seconds on the platform you were standing so often with Beomgyu, where he held you tight in his arms, where he softly told you he loved you, where you shared your first loving kiss and you both laughed afterwards at how clumsy you were being. And lastly, it was the place where Beomgyu died, where he found his bitter end at the tender age of 22.

Anger bubbled up inside you, remembering how he had died. He wanted to visit you with a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers, as beautiful as him himself. You just aced your last exam of the semester, wanting nothing more than celebrate with your boyfriend of over two years. It had been your fault, hadn’t you just failed the exam, things would have been different. He wouldn’t have gotten to you by train at this hour, the drunk man wouldn’t have started a fight with him and Beomgyu wouldn’t have been pushed onto the tracks just before a train came rushing by. Beomgyu would have still lived. He would be with you on the couch, legs intertwined, stealing small kisses now and then and probably also a few bites of your snack. But something deep inside you told you that he still would have visited you, maybe to be there for you or maybe to just give you a hug.

Your heart stung painfully inside your chest. You wanted to forget again. You wanted to pull your damn heart out of your chest and throw it on these stupid train tracks. You hated how much it hurt.

You wanted to end it there. You’ve remembered it as clear as daylight. A life without Beomgyu seemed so impossible for you, you never could heal without him. He owned your heart and it was impossible to live without a heart. So you jumped. You were so sure. Even wrote letters for all your friends and family, the last one for Beomgyu, probably still laying on his grave stone. But why didn’t you make it? Why couldn’t you reunite with him? You saw him so clearly on the other side, dressed in his favorite pink sweater vest. Why had it to be him? He was so full of love.

“Beomgyu...” you whispered, painful sobs now tearing your heart apart once again. Yeonjun and your mother rushed to hug you as tight as they could, never leaving your side and crying with you.

This day wasn’t a day joy or freedom, no. It was far from that. It was a terrible, hurtful day. You missed Beomgyu more than ever before. You realized he was gone for good. And you were here.

But it was also a day full of comfort and understanding. You still thought about Yeonjuns quiet words besides your ear.

“I miss Beomgyu so fucking much as well. He didn’t deserve to go that early, I know. And it’s not your fault YN, remember that. He still loves you so so much and he is here with you, with us, every second. He didn’t want you to go from us that early as well, he protected you YN.” His hand payed over his heart, eyes fixated on yours, showing you how he meant every single word.

You nodded, your tears never ending. Yeonjun hugged you again. He firmly believed that Beomgyu saved you, so you believed it as well. He wouldn’t want you to end your life that easily, that pathetically while mourning over someone, who was instantly dead in just a split second. It wasn’t fair, no, it would never be.

And Beomgyu showed you in his own way that he not only loved you deeply and will forever, he also teaches you so much in life: joy, love, anger, sadness, overwhelming sadness and how to live life the fullest.

He will always be in your heart, no matter how much time will go by, and you will be forever thankful towards the brown eyed boy, who taught you how to love, live and leave. Your dear Beombeom.

61 notes · View notes

guiltgoreglory · 3 years

Text

Heat Waves (Chapter 2: An Ego Check)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi. (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2626 words)

Chapter 1

Tagging: @abitofpablo @kimburgss @ceyruh

You watched as the dust clouds trailed behind the buggy. The rest of the trip you all sat in silence, taking in the events that had just occurred. When you saw the base from a distance you decided it was safe to holster your weapons. You wiped the sweat of your palms on your thighs as you willed your heart to slow down, and so it did. The second you felt back at equilibrium, Rone took a quick turn into the base. To no surprise, it was the most conspicuous looking place you could have imagined. You expected better from the CIA. Several armed American guards stood at the gate which was surrounded by obvious cameras. You rolled your eyes knowing that if anyone wanted to target us, it wouldn’t be hard. One guy even wore a New York Yankee’s cap. It’s like they didn’t even try.

“Check the new rides. Gaddafi had a going-out-of-business sale on armored vehicles…” Rone gestured towards the Mercedes amongst several other high-end vehicles. He whistled. Leave it to Rone to keep the tone light. “Max-leveled armored, man. We got a great deal… We stole ‘em.” Rone stared down Jack with the biggest smirk plastered on his face. He seemed extremely proud of himself for that one. You watched as a similar smile tugged at the corners of Jack’s lips. You behaved similarly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a shitty joke.

You gathered your things as the car came to a stop. Rone hopped out, throwing the keys to another man wearing a vest, “Sat unattended at the airport.” His stride paused as he watched someone from afar. You followed his gaze until you saw the Chief. This was definitely going to be something, you didn’t know what, but you could feel the subordination getting ready to bubble out of Rone. “Hey, Chief,” Rone called, nonchalantly, almost mockingly. The Chief looked like any middle-aged man who worked in business. Blue blazer, khaki pants, glasses, the whole shebang. His posture screamed superiority complex, you knew from the get-go you wouldn’t get along, not like it mattered anyway.

“I don’t want to hear it, Tyrone.” He called back, shuffling his way back into the building. Rone strutted towards him, duffel in hand.

“No, no, I understand.” He turned his head for a moment, keeping out of the way of a car

driving past. “I see what you’re going for here,” he called, on the verge of yelling, “Secret spy base with fortified walls, gate cameras,” He fumbled to get his id badge in hand. “and blue-eyed Westerners! walking in and out of this place all day long.” He did a lovely spin for emphasis, pointing towards all the obvious Americans walking around the base. You followed close behind, knowing you were going to need to speak with him as soon as Tyrone was done tearing into him. “But if you want to avoid..” His words were cut off by the Chief slamming the squeaky metal door in your face. His voice dropped a decibel and he spoke, mostly to himself, “That’s so rude”. He placed his phone into the tray mounted on the wall beside the door, before scanning in his card to gain entry. “Can’t believe he just did that to me.” Your heart started to pick up once again. Nothing made you more frustrated than a cocky man being too good to have a goddamn conversation.

The door let out a loud buzz before Rone pushed open the entrance. “Chief, if you want to avoid an international incident,” He continued to track in the Chief’s footsteps, “you send me my guys when I ask for them.” Many of the agents sitting at their computers peeked up to watch the drama unfold. Some took a look at you, the new face, before returning to watch the catfight.

Finally, the man turned to look at Tyrone, squinting in disapproval like a man reprimanding his toddler. “Local faces need to resolve local conflicts, Tyrone.” Aka, your life means little to nothing to me; the incident was just a wrinkle in my daily schedule. He flipped mindlessly through papers within a manilla folder. Wow he’s so important look how busy he is. “We’re guests in this country.” You and Jack came to stand a few feet behind Rone, trying to stay close without poking the bear.

“We’re unwanted guests, Bob.” Rone rebutted. He’s not wrong.

“We’re spies, you’re security guards.. Your job is to keep us out of trouble, not get into it yourselves.” God, he’s pretentious. Rone flipped through some files pinned onto a pillar, looking through some photos of notable people of the region.

“Well help me do my job and give me my guys.” He didn’t bother giving the Chief the privilege of his eye-line as he continued to search through the photos. You heard a buzz, and quickly turned to see the other members of the squad you were now a part of. Perfect timing. You made eye contact with one of them, Chris Paronto. Based on your prior research everybody called him Tanto, the mischievous one. Just then the Chief said some absolute bullshit.

“Here’s what you guys are good at: working out, eating five hot meals a day. What you’re not so good at is doing what you’re told.” God, he was so fucking proud of himself. Look at you little man, showing off your power in front of your team. You let a little of your annoyance slip out.

“Ironic considering without us, everyone’s a sitting duck.” You whispered softly. The men all turned their heads towards you. Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever to get this over with.

“Excuse me? And who are you? Some ex-army nobody who can’t let go of the glory of war?”

Alright, time to rip off the bandaid. You stood a little taller, stepping closer to the Chief, just beside Rone. “Honestly... I’m someone out of your security clearance.” You said assertively. Jack shared a hesitant look with Rone.

“Bullshit.” He turned away from you, readying to remove himself from the conversation.

“Alright, I think it’s best if we get a phone call over with now.” You dropped your duffel onto the tile, squatting down beside it. The armed men gripped their guns just a little bit tighter. The Chief stood, watching you confused. You unzipped the bag, reaching in to wrap your hands around a satellite phone. You zipped it back up but left it on the ground for now.

“I don’t have time for this.” The Chief began to walk towards his office as you stood, clicking a number on speed-dial.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The director doesn’t like waiting.” You held the phone to your head, keeping a straight face. That definitely made him pause. He turned back towards you, squinting his little face up.

“Director of what?” He sighed.

“Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.” You responded casually as if you were telling him the forecast for the next week. You waited as the phone continued to ring.

Everyone stood in silence except for one guy. Tanto leaned over to whisper in Boon’s ear. “Who the fuck is she?”

Finally, a voice came over the line. “Y/N.”

“Good morning, Sir. We have arrived at the location.” Everyone had their eyes on you, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Any incidents?”

“One en route to base. Resolved without violence. I’ll have a report to you within the hour.”

“Great.” He took a deep breath and you could hear him adjust in his chair. “I take it you’d like me to speak with Bob.”

“That would be appreciated, Sir.”

“Alright hand me over.” You took steady, calculated steps towards the Chief, holding the phone out for him to take. He gently took it from your hand. His eyes bore holes into the crevices of the tiled floor.

“Hello..” The Chief said tentatively. You stepped back, giving him some room. You crossed your arms across your chest, shrugging in Rone’s direction. You could tell he was living for this. “Yes, Sir…. I understand, Sir. Of course…. Goodbye.” He stood like a dog with his tail between his legs. He stepped back towards you, holding out the phone. You took it gladly with a polite smile. Pressing the phone back to your ear you concluded with a quick farewell before going back to put your phone into the duffel. As you squatted beside it, you looked up towards the Chief.

“Are we good?” You said. You no longer wanted to squabble and your tone reflected as such.

“Yes.” He said curtly, returning to his office. The second the door closed, the chatter of the room returned back to normal. You turned back to the men of the team looking at Rone expectantly.

“Alrighty then.” Rone turned to walk towards their lounge and the guys began to follow. Tanto sucked in his lips, trying to stifle a chuckle. The burly man next to him, Boon, jabbed him in the side before moving towards the room. You waited for Jack, giving him a genuine, small smile before trailing behind.

“Well, that was fun.” Mark Geist, also known by the team as “Oz”, stated monotonously, walking into the room as he disassembled his rifle.

“He gets his jollies pushing around alphas because he can.” John Tiegen. Called “Tig”. He’s the brains. The first one to be stationed here. You stood in the corner watching as he placed his things into his cubby.

“We had this commander back in ranger school, he was a real cockbag…” Creative insult. Tanto began to remove his vest as he narrated on. You figured you’d be here for a minute so you pulled the straps of your cello case off of your shoulders placing it onto the floor, along with your duffel. Now that you were within the compound you took off the hijab, throwing it on top of the luggage. You flipped your head forward shaking out the matted hair before you pulled it into a bun. It was a mess but it did the job.

“So on our last night, me and a buddy, we stole his beret.” He placed his vest down on the table before plopping down onto the worn couch. “Whole barracks chubbed it.”

“Chubbed it?” Boon replied, his tone made you think he really didn’t want to know, whipping out his knife to fidget with.

“Yeah, rubbed our dicks on it.” Tanto replied, the widest smile crossing his face. He looked like the Cheshire cat as he reached for the gaming controller. You coughed, stifling your laugh before your face turned quizzical. He turned back towards you, noticing your reaction before giving you a quick up and down and returning to his game. You sauntered over to Jack to join in the awkwardness of being new. You tuned into Tig as he was beginning to talk work to Rone. He leaned forward over a desk that Rone was sitting at.

“Leader was a former Gitmo detainee.” They scanned the rugged laptop, you presumed that they were looking for who you’d tangoed with this morning.

“Yeah, those guys usually don’t hold a grudge.” Rone said in his usual sarcastic tone.

“Hey guys,” Oz’s voice pulled you from your concentration as you turned to face him with a friendly smile. “Mark Geist, Oz.”

“Pleasure.” Jack went to shake his hand and you followed suit.

“Ah guys I’m sorry.” Rone spun on his office chair to face the rest of the crew. “Everybody, this is Jack Silva. It’s our third contract together so he knows the drill. We met training SEALs at Coronado.”

Tanto turned back for a second. “How do you get them to balance that beach ball on their nose?” A few chuckles could be heard from the guys.

“It’s tough.” Jack’s shoulders relaxed slightly, letting himself become more comfortable around his new team.

“And this” He gestured his hand towards you. “is Y/N. She’s uhh..” He paused for a split second, trying to find the right word to describe you. “black-ops and apparently has the government at her fingertips so she’ll probably be of use.” You smirked, nodding your head towards the guys. Rone rose from his spot, spreading his arms across the room. “So we got three ex-Marines here and one ex-Army retard who likes to rub his dick on things.” Tanto stood proudly facing you two.

“Kris Paronto. Call me Tanto.” You both shook his hand. You found Tanto’s demeanor amusing, and much to your dismay, his confidence was undeniably attractive. Despite the tall crowd, he still somehow towered above them. You shared eye contact for a brief moment before turning towards Tig. Although he felt easy to get along with, you hoped his casual demeanor didn’t affect his work. In your experience, the joker usually got people killed. Despite this, what you had researched, he seemed to be doing alright so far.

“Hey. I’m Tig.” He waved towards you two.

“Tig’s been here the longest, so he’ll get you up to speed on the area,” Rone said, stabbing a red pin into a map. Looking in more detail you noticed it was the location of your incident. “This is Boon. Scout Sniper, Zen Master, Holder of Tanto’s leash.” He pointed to the man sitting in the sturdy armchair.

He looked up from his lap. “Welcome to Club Med.”

“It hasn’t rained since June. It’s not gonna rain again until September.” He walked right up to you two strolling past slowly. “You two will be double-bunked. Not me, because I’m in charge. Gym sucks,” damn “food’s actually good.” Lose, win.

Tig walked to the center of the room, a few feet from the three of you. “Base Chief is kinda a tool, but who knows, maybe now that you’re here he’ll be moderately tolerable.”

You shrugged. “No promises but if he gets too snippy I’ll whip out the phone again.”

“Maybe he just needs a new hat” Jack quipped. Tanto looked up from the TV to point appreciatively at Jack.

“Don’t encourage him,” Rone said as if talking about his puppy.

“Come on. He’s just a guy with a job to do.”Oz said. Based on the dynamic he was the dad of the group. Honest, serious, tough-love type of guy. Makes sense given he’s the sniper. “He’s playing his string out, but if you talk to him, Bob did some shit back in the day.” You’d heard it a million times, some badass joins the CIA works his way up until he’s practically just a desk jockey with a power problem. Didn’t gain him any sympathy from you.

“Alright, Jack, Y/N, this is the whiteboard that’s gonna run your life for the next sixty days.” You looked over the various points of the board as Jack made his way towards the couch. Given the limited space you preferred standing just behind, leaning your hip against the back. “I want you to check it every hour cause last-minute moves pop up every minute, such as... where shotgunning it in three hours.” Everyone in the room except you, Jack, and Rone let out an audible groan of annoyance. Tanto slapped his controller onto his lap, looking up to the ceiling. Before concentrating back on the game, he looked at you. You took this opportunity to raise an eyebrow in his direction given his childlike reaction to the news. He responded with a strong but blank stare. You rolled your eyes slightly, breaking eye contact to pay attention to Rone. You were used to being dispatched on the drop of the hat, acclimating to the schedule here probably wouldn’t be too much of a pain.

“Three hours. I’ll let you know when I’m briefed.”

#Tanto x Reader #Tanto/Reader #Tanto x Y/N #13 hours #pablo schreiber #Kris Paronto #Kris Paronto x Reader #Kris Paronto/Reader

61 notes · View notes

minghellafine · 3 years

Link

Full interview below.

The first thing Max Minghella does when he joins our Zoom call is ask me about the weather. It wasn't just a conversational cliché though, he really wanted to know what it was like where I was. I tell him I'm in New York City, where spring can surprise you with a day that's colder or warmer than it looks. This particular day was chilly. "I'm always cold," he interjects, "I'm reptilian. My body finds a way to keep me cool." He shivered as he spoke, sitting in his sunny backyard in Los Angeles wearing a T-shirt. I checked the temperature right after our call. It was 80 degrees in L.A.

Despite any discomfort, Minghella is just really happy to be at home. Unlike the millions of people who spent 2020 in quarantine, he was working on season four of The Handmaid's Tale throughout the spring and summer."I'm sort of jealous of people who have this moment to pause and reflect," he says soberly. "Even with all of the trauma it's caused and all the things that obviously were detrimental, I know a lot of people who've had big life changes in the past year."

He acknowledged, however, that creating something in a time when everyone wished they could escape was ultimately a lucky thing. "There was a ubiquitous sense of gratitude," he adds.

Outside of the global pandemic, the dynamics on set had shifted — this season, his co-star Elisabeth Moss (or "Lizzie" as he affectionately calls her), was a director. "She was amazing on set," he explained. "Just very in control and it ran super smoothly. When I saw the episodes she directed, it just kind of blew me away. Her style — it's very cinematic and it really underlines the sci-fi elements of the show. It has a real kind of scope and confidence to it. I think she's a real filmmaker."

RELATED: Marvel's New Face Danny Ramirez Has the Range

Minghella's character Nick has an interesting arc this season too – he's realizing his role as a senior member of the Gilead ruling class, but also still in love with June [Moss]. It's a complex character that challenges you as an audience member. He is the brooding love interest, and while you may root for him and June to be together, you also have to see him for what he is: an architect of a world that kidnaps women and uses them for childbearing.

What made the previous three seasons of the show even harder for viewers to digest was the fact that people so badly wanted to believe there could be a good guy defector — maybe even Nick — in a room full of bad guys. During those years, many people felt that the dystopian elements of the show were reflective of the nationalist agenda being put forth in the United States by the Trump Administration. So much so that a group of protesters famously wore Handmaid costumes to protest anti-abortion bills and Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh's confirmation hearings. Without saying much about the parallels in the show — other than chalking them up to "pure coincidence," Minghella felt the Handmaid's Tale, whose protagonists are anti-Gilead, are "on the right side of history." He added diplomatically, "Ultimately, I'm most proud because I think it's really great fiction."

I get the sense that the pursuit of "great fiction" is something that consumes Minghella. He's someone who appreciates art (he got his big break in 2006's Art School Confidential), and his parents are Anthony Minghella, the late award-winning director of The Talented Mr. Ripley, and actress Carolyn Choa. He loves details (see our earlier weather conversation). Even the way he talks about Los Angeles has a story-like quality. He tells me about how he knew when the city became his home after a feeling he got driving past the Silver Lake 7-Eleven. As he told it, I pictured it like a scene in an indie movie starring Zach Braff.

"I had this sort of pathological obsession with movies from birth. [My mother] worked for the British equivalent of the Motion Picture Association, so she would watch three films a day. By three or four years old, I was just kind of an obsessed movie person." It's his favorite movie, Beverly Hills Cop ("I think I saw 100 times by the time I was eight years old," he says) that inspired another big role he was working on during quarantine: Minghella stars as a detective opposite Chris Rock in the Saw franchise spin-off Spiral: From the Book of Saw.

"The movie was so serendipitous for me. I feel like I almost manifested it in my life," Minghella muses. "There's a line very early in the movie where we're investigating these crime scenes and we come to a grizzly one. My character looks nauseous. Chris's [character] says to me, 'Are you okay?' And my character says, 'Yeah. I mean I'd been dreaming about this since I was 12-years-old.' And that was a very kind of weird line because it's just true."

Now at 35 years old, Minghella is feeling settled. He is still a "film nerd" that gets giddy with each new opportunity, but he's less anxious about the results. Next thing on his list? Vacation.

"I'm hoping in May once the movie comes out I can run away somewhere."

Read on for his cheesy would-be campaign slogan, his fast-food weakness, and the time he escaped a tornado while working on a film with Blake Lively.

Who is your celebrity crush?

Mary Tyler Moore.

What's the last thing you do before you fall asleep?

I listen to 1950s radio shows. Usually Dragnet. I was researching a project in that period briefly and got sort of into the radio culture of that time. And now I find it incredibly soothing.

Favorite villain?

Hans Gruber.

Describe a memorable dream.

I had a recurring nightmare as a child in which my grandmother turned into a cat. So Tom Hooper's Cats was very traumatizing to me.

First album you ever owned?

My mother bought me the Top Gun soundtrack on audio cassette.

If you were required to spend $1,000 today, what would you buy and why?

I would do anything to help a distressed dog.

If you ran for office, what would your slogan be?

Some kind of tacky pun using my first name. "Take it to the Max," or maybe "Max on, Max off."

Name one place you've never been but have always wanted to go.

Easy. Japan. I went when I was one, but I don't think that counts.

What's the most uncomfortable outfit you've ever worn?

I did a film called Art School Confidential and I had to wear a beret and I found every moment of it truly humiliating. I remember being completely traumatized by it.

Describe your first kiss.

My first kiss was at a bus stop. I was 14 and I lied and told the girl that it wasn't my first kiss, but I think it was probably immediately evident that it was.

What's one dish you're always tempted to order if you see it on a menu?

There are so many things. That's the sad answer. French fries is the truth.

Favorite on-set memory?

I did a movie called Elvis and Anabelle with Blake Lively like 100 years ago and we shot in Texas. There was a tornado one night that forced us to evacuate the set and we had to sort of drive off in a hurry. I put on this song by The Knife called "Pass This On" in the car which is very dramatic and cinematic. The tornado was sort of in pursuit of the vehicle while we were speeding away. And it was just far enough that it wasn't life-threatening, but also a radical visual. That's one of my favorite life memories.

The Handmaid's Tale season 4 premieres on Hulu April 28, and Spiral: From the Book of Saw hits theaters on May 11.

Photographs by Emily Malan. Grooming by Sonia Lee for Exclusive Artists using La Mer. Polaroid Photos by Max Minghella. Special thanks to Polaroid. Production by Kelly Chiello.

#max minghella #the handmaid's tale #saw #spiral #elvis and anabelle #the social network #interviews #*

46 notes · View notes

magalidragon · 3 years

Text

Dragonstone Girls 🐉 | a Teaser

a/n: Life has been one CF after another and I think the bullying I got on here in late December hit me harder than I realized. But I’m working on the drabble that is now more than 2600 words 😅. So for @aenarsnow and @youwerenevermine here is a teaser! (Moodboard by the perfect @youwerenevermine !)

"Mothafuckas!"

They heard the shout before they saw the other girl, Arya Stark bounding around a corner and towards them, holding a bag of pick-n-mix in her hand, a large pink gum bubble popping from her lips. She loped over to them in a wolf-like way, despite her tiny size.

Bringing up the rear was Jon, his hands in his pockets, trudging to them. She waved, stupidly, and immediately shoved her hands into her pockets so they couldn't see. Only Missy eyed her suspiciously. Marge whooped and showed off the tickets. "Look at this!"

"Fuck yes!"

"There's only four, she forgot one for Jon," Missy criticized.

Arya shrugged, punching her cousin. "He won't care, right dicko? Doesn't matter we can sneak him in. Not like anyone will notice him anyway." She offered her pick-n-mix to Marge, who selected a jawbreaker. She cackled. "Oh and get this? Wanna' know who showed up last night?"

"Who?" Dany wondered, glancing to Jon, who hadn't said a word.

"My mum," he said.

At the same time, Arya shouted. "Auntie Lyanna! She was wearing the coolest fucking beret, her eyebrows are on point, she even had a gun! My mum made her keep it in the car, but she's like the fucking coolest."

"She's a revolutionary!" Missy shrieked, terrified.

Marge shook her head, awed. "Fucking awesome."

Dany glanced at Jon, to see what he thought of this return. His mum left him on Dragonstone to live with Arya and her family, while she did whatever it was, she was doing in the North. He'd had to attend their all-girls school because some of the people thought that he'd get beaten up because he had the strong Northern accent and generally might be considered an interloper as he wasn't local.

He was a bit of a dicko, but he was their dicko and she was pretty sure she wasn't just crushing on him but she was bloody in love with him and that was horrible.

"Alright Dany?" he asked, walking beside her, as Marge and Missy and Arya fought over whether or not they could theoretically sneak Jon into the speech.

"Alright." She smiled up at him. He was taller than her, but then everyone was. His dark curls were tugged from his face into a knot at the base of his neck and she was astounded to see that there was a faint shadow on his jaw. Had that always been there? Or did he shave all the time? Or was she just noticing now? Maybe all of the above.

He wore a black t-shirt, black beaten-up Northern army jacket and black jeans with heavy black boots. He looked like a bloody Provo. Provincial Dragonstone Army or PDA which wasn't very well named because people joked that they would just "give you a public kiss" but they took that to mean a bombing. So it apparently did work in their favor.

She nodded to Marge. "I told Marge that we would get you a ticket I don't know what her game is, I mean she fucking knows you're here with us, it's a pretty shitty thing to do..."

"I'm not going to the speech."

"But you know, I think Grandda is going to try to be there, he's right now trying to find out where Khal Drogo is located, he thinks that he can one up Jorah across the street, you know Jorah? Creepy git."

"I'm not going to the speech; I'm going back North."

This time whatever he said filtered through. Dany froze, rounding on him. She stared. "What?"

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #Erika’s perfect moodboard #a Jonerys Derry girls au because why not #fic tease

56 notes · View notes

cloud9in · 3 years

Text

A Stellar Collision (Zoey x Mc)

Summary: Zoey and Bea encounter each other one night in Paris. A stellar collision takes place.

French Zoey??? I say yes. I nerded the hell out with this fic, but I think it’s amazing and beautiful.

Word Count: 1.9k

Zoey Club: @samanthadalton @penda-bear @robintora @satrinadia @tyrils-star @brycesgirl @gay-dinosaur-banana-milk-carton

Stellar Collision; ‘A stellar collision is the coming together of two stars caused by stellar dynamics within a star cluster’

***

Paris, France. Bea never thought that she’d travel alone, but here she was standing in front of the Eiffel Tower under the moonlight. This particular night was more magical than ever, the stars covered the sky like a light show. She gazed up at the celestial bodies that casted a heavenly glow on her face and smiled. France. She was really here.

“Oh that’s perfect! Stay just like that..”

A low voice startles Bea out of her thoughts as she yelps at the intruding stranger. “Oh my god you scared me!” The woman in front of her..who is insanely good looking, (very nice observation Bea), clamps her hand over her mouth to stop a giggle. She looked absolutely divine, Bea thought. Nothing compared to the stars.

“Forgive me miss! Or...er I didn’t get your name?” Her honey-filled, thick accent reminded Bea of a harmony probably only played at the gates of heaven. It took a few minutes for her to stop staring shamelessly, eyes wandering every inch of the mystery woman until it stopped at the paintbrush in her hand. Her face felt hot as she looked up directly into the stranger’s deep brown eyes, who winked in return. “...It’s Bea...or..honey...darling maybe?” Wow so smooth.

The brunette internally cringed at her attempt to seduce the stranger, but she was caught off guard by the sweet laugh earned in response.

“Ah..well darling it is. You may have the privilege of calling me Zoey. Zoey Wade.” The darker woman grinned brightly, a pearly white smile contrasting her purple shade of lipstick. She wore a white long sleeve turtleneck which was neatly tucked into a tight, perfect fitting leather skirt. Her beret matched the color of her lips, and a nice pair of Louboutin black patent leather pumps were on her feet. Zoey was drop dead gorgeous, and she knew that. She could tell how attracted Bea was by the way her mouth hung open. Nice job Bea.

The brunette raised a single eyebrow in curiosity, “privilege huh? I’ll say…” She cleared her throat and straightened up, “well what I meant to ask was...what were you saying earlier? Before I jumped out of my boots.” Zoey peered down at her paintbrush and back to the woman in front of her amusingly. “Oh yes well, I like to take part in street art occasionally when I’m not in the studio or managing a fashion week.” Oh so she must be a fashion designer? Well of course she is Bea, look at her.

“...and the way you gaze up at the stars reminds me of a certain love and intensity, I just had to capture it on my aisle.” Zoey gestures towards her setup behind her which went unnoticed by the brunette. In fact, everything was quite a blur for Bea in the moment. Uhhh earth to Bea Hughes? The most beautiful woman in the world is talking to you, the least you could do is respond. Zoey smiles silently, patiently waiting for the flustered girl to ground herself, once more. And when she does, the only word she can muster is, “..wow.”

“Wow? But I haven’t even begun to paint you yet my darling! I think you would be quite satisfied with the results but only if you listen to my wishes.”

And so Bea did. She looked up at the sky again and relaxed her shoulders, a blissful feeling already beginning to surround her. The stars looked different now, she couldn’t focus as much, but when she did, Bea swore there was a faint outline of the darker woman’s features up in the sky. Maybe she was going crazy. Or maybe she just couldn’t get her out of her mind. The pair stood in comfortable silence as Zoey painted away, stopping occasionally to “study” Bea’s eyes, lips, and volumized curls. It’s all part of the technique. The brunette felt self conscious whenever she caught Zoey staring but it would immediately melt when their gazes connected, a feeling of warmth and affection fluttering like butterflies in her stomach.

“So... Zoey right? That doesn’t sound very French.”

The darker woman stroked her brush against the aisle skillfully, a light chuckle escaping her lips. “Indeed. My father was actually American, and well being his only child, he did the honours. My mother wanted to name me Zoé, (pronounced zaw-eh) but father already figured I’d have so much of my french roots and he wanted to contribute to at least something.” Zoey concentrates thoughtfully, her eyes softening at the mention of her parents.

Bea peels her eyes off of the sky and watches the woman with fondness. “He would be really proud of you...I know I may have just met you, but you have this gift of luring people in. Of...making them want to stay. You’re like home...I- I don’t know how to explain it...”

Zoey stops painting and observes the brunette, whose eyes only cast a shadow of love.

Bea looks away at the intensity of Zoey’s stare. Her voice breaks the silence, it sounded more soft and vulnerable, with a hint of that smoky accent. “Look at me.”

When their eyes met for the millionth time that night, it felt different. Bea felt complete. Like she was sharing her soul with the woman in front of her. She felt comfortable, with herself, and with everything around her. Zoey started to paint again as Bea watched her closely, formulating the right thoughts in her head. “Hey Zoe?” She subtlety moves her head towards Bea to hint that she’s listening, and the brunette’s eyes twinkle with delight. “Do you believe that we are all connected somehow?”

Zoey folds her arms in thought, “Yes...I do. There is...something called a human energy field. And within that field lies the magnetic pull of human hearts.” She looks tenderly at the brunette, “some may feel a strong pull in their hearts even when miles away. And when the two individuals finally meet, their energies combine like a stellar collision.” Bea stares at her with a certain passion she never felt before. Beautiful, incredibly intelligent, and a poetic flirt? Now that’s a woman.

Zoey sets her paintbrush down and rotates the aisle so it's in full view for Bea. The brunette gasps loudly, her breath catching in her throat. The painting portrayed a stunning image of Bea with the Eiffel Tower behind her, the vibrant golden lights reflecting off her curls and silhouette. In the back, a depiction of maybe a million self-luminous stars painted the sky, and if you looked closely, some were constellations. What stuck out the most was the look on Bea’s face. Her expression suggested that she was looking at something mesmerizing, her eyes sparkling with wonder. And that was true, Zoey was otherworldly. Bea admired the portrait in awe, “It’s perfect Zoey, oh my god.”

“You have a knack for stars eh? Such a nerd.”

The brunette laughs in joy as Zoey teases her. She raises a hand to her chin in thought, “You sound like a natural born American. Who are you and what have you done with my Zoey?”

“Oh your Zoey huh?” She smirks when Bea’s face turns impossibly red. Zoey detaches the portrait and struts towards the brunette, holding out the newly finished gift. “For you darling, to remember this night like no other.”

Bea hesitates to grab it, “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it? I mean what if we never see each other again? I could be the mystery person that you tell people stories about when they come to your gallery one day.” Bea wiggles her eyebrows playfully at the suggestion.

“Well first off, there’s only so much to tell about one night. And a gallery? I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Oh we’re definitely not!”

Zoey laughs pleasantly at the brunette’s confidence, brushing away a few strands of curls that fell out of place. She looks carefully at Bea and then to the painting, “Darling, the memories of tonight are enough to last me quite a while. I’ll never forget it and I don’t need this to remind me. I’ll admit, if I kept this then everytime I look at it, it would only make me think of you.”

“...and that’s a bad thing..?”

“Yes.”

“Ouchhh Zoe.”

She chuckles gently at the pout on the brunette’s face. “Oh you baby I didn’t mean it like that.” Zoey as she takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, “It’s just that after tonight, wherever you go in the world, I hope you don’t forget me so easily. I only wish that you would be by my side just one night longer every time I stare at this painting.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

That earned Bea a nice smack to the shoulder. Good job, you deserve that.

“Whattt I meant to say is that the night doesn’t have to end! We’re just getting started Zoey. I want to have an adventurous night out in Paris with you. You can show me how the French do it. And maybe paint me like one of your French girls next.”

This time Zoey was the one blushing a deep dark red. She dipped her head away before Bea could catch a glimpse of it. Zoey clears her throat before sitting in thought, “well... I always believed that you should do what feels necessary, and what feels right. Being here with you certainly feels right.” She glances not so discreetly at Bea’s lips, and wets her own in anticipation. The brunette can feel her burning gaze and follows the darker woman’s eyes as they scan every inch of her. A jolt of energy starts forming in her lower belly, her heartbeat steadily increasing while her knees went impossibly weak. There was a literal shift in the atmosphere and Bea swore they weren’t this close before, but the feeling of Zoey’s breath on her cheek told her just how close they became. “...Can I do something that feels right?”

When Zoey nods, Bea wastes no time in pulling her against her body, one arm wrapping around Zoey’s lower waist and the other caressing her dark bronze cheeks. The kiss felt electrical, a burst of pleasure surging through their chests as they finally connected. Bea let Zoey take control immediately, her tongue pulsating in the brunette’s mouth as they french-kissed. The feeling was so overpowering as they both gasped for air after a few minutes. Zoey placed open-mouthed kisses along Bea’s jaw and neck and she moaned in pure bliss at the feeling. Don’t worry there’s probably nobody around to see them. Maybe.

When Zoey pulls back and looks at Bea, she smirks at how dilated her pupils have become. Someone’s excited. The brunette doesn’t let her tease any longer, sliding her hand gently across the french woman’s cheek, to the back of her neck, and pulling her hair until her neck is exposed. Their lips connect once more until both are too weak to stand any longer.

Through her shallows breaths, Bea smiles over at Zoey who has a dazed, yet look on her face. Yep. Nothing compared to the stars.

***

Part 2 ???

#queen b #playchoices #zoey wade #zoey x mc #mc x zoey #crying in the club at the lack of zoey fics #I also didn"t add in any French language because I'm afraid of butchering it

34 notes · View notes

alexaparkes · 2 years

Text

Vanity

Gemma was methodically brushing her long golden hair in front of her mirror again. Every night she spent on her velvet chair before the vanity, delicately grooming, rubbing the skin around her eyes to prevent wrinkles , and applying rose petals to her cheeks and her lips for color. This was something her grandmother had taught her when she was young. Afterward, she applied a dewy cream thickly onto her face and chest and down her arms, which smelled like sweet lemon, and which she spent a great deal of her flimsy inheritance stipend on at the market each Sunday, because it promised to be brewed by alchemists. She then applied a separate salty serum to her legs and stomach to ward off cellulite and exfoliate the fatty skin as she tossed in the night. This is what some local peddlers had said anyway, and while most were more skeptical of them pushing a cart through the square very inconsistently, one could always count on seeing her- flagging them down to buy some. Dressing for bed had steps as well as any important thing and these were hers. First, she fastened a bra around her rib cage loosely but tightened the shoulder straps as far as they could go to hold her plump breasts up. She wriggled into compression pants over the exfoliating lotion, grimacing every night at this step . Finally, she took a long piece of silk that she kept in a hat box above her wardrobe and wrapped it several times around her slim waist, which appeared increasingly slimmer and had to be regularly explained to the seamstress when her dresses were taken in every so often.

In the morning she sat in front of the very same mirror and appraised herself. She smiled widely at seeing her reflection almost every day, but most days it was brief, at the concern of creating unsightly smile wrinkles one might assume. She assembled her expression in such a way that her large eyes were open wide, taking in more light and shrinking her pupils, so that her emerald green irises were as loud as envy. To compliment them she wore green dresses almost consistently, every so often allowing for the contrast of red or purple ,which also had an exhilarating effect.

On the day that Gemma and the king happened to meet, she had been wearing her best dress, which twisted around her with the color and cling of ivy. This was all it took for the newly widowed king to be absolutely besotted with her. He began to deliver expensive gifts to her at her parents’ cottage which she had inherited. He quietly looked after information regarding her from his most faithful servants, and sought council about a timeframe in which he could pursue her publicly in good taste, in the interest of his beloved late wife’s honor. To the king’s surprise he found out Gemma was very young, and a bit of a recluse since her parents had passed tragically the year before. She appeared semi regularly for her weekly shops, always intimidatingly gorgeous and polite, but not social. This information compounded his lust for Gemma. He identified with her grief and was fascinated by her mystery. She was an enigma, a rare and perfect gem, who seemed to be cut just for him.

Gemma basked in the expensive wine and jewelry that she found delivered to her doorstep in the secret days of this courting. When she saw the king in town, she pushed her lips out in a pout to appear fuller, and wandered from shop to shop swooshing her hips, almost dancing, to coerce his following. When their eyes met, touching the necklaces or diamond berets that he had given her to show her appreciation.

When at last it had been six full months since his wife’s death, he began to invite Gemma to the castle. This was against the wishes of his mother and his councilors, but he'd had enough waiting. The courting was brief and passionate. Gemma’s confidence put the king in a position of submission of which he had never before felt and was exhilarated by. Gemma for her part was pinching herself at the prospect of marrying into royalty, but she knew that the power was in her indifference and the longer she made the king wait, the more appealing she would become, which seemed to be her single goal.

Ultimately, three months went by before the king sent for the finest Emerald ring in the country. It was almost the exact shade and width of Gemma’s eyes and still it took another fortnight to work up the courage to ask her to marry him.

Gemma was so purely delighted at this proposal that she broke into a magnificent smile against her will and as she did the king exclaimed, “You are the fairest one in all the land!”. He picked Gemma up then and spun her around as she giggled and pretended to protest. This was a defining moment of vulnerability and glee because it was the happiest moment that either of their lives had ever allowed them.

The wedding was swift and glamorous, and because of Gemma’s perfect manners and taste for finer things, she fit into royalty in a natural and confident way. The biggest struggle for her was being faced with her husband’s daughter Snow, and his vast and undying love for her. The child, who resembled neither the king or her mother, had ebony hair as dark as the night sky with skin as pale as the snow. Her mother first saw her and immediately named her snow because of the striking resemblance.The king had a way of telling this story relentlessly to every new person at the dinner table. Gemma forced herself to smile, although she despised the attention wavering from her. She eagerly waited until after dinner when they could go back to their room and have the king’s full attention again.

She had more perfection to offer underneath her fine clothes, and she had a way with building anticipation. She unzipped slowly and seductively while he fawned over and begged her. She took her time removing her shoes and unclasping her undergarments - putting on a real show of it. Until the king’s excitement and eagerness at seeing her perfect ripe body had him exclaiming again and again , “The fairest in all of the land ! The fairest of all!” and he would jump off the bed with his short legs and spin her, recreating their favorite moment, and in a way the only true connection they had ever experienced. This adoration was the height of Gemma’s climax, she wasn't much bothered by what came after, and the pleasure of it was so intoxicating that Gemma felt that the moments between presenting herself to the castle guests and presenting herself again to her husband were increasingly boring. She became interested solely in more gatherings and rendezvous in which she could be worshipped and became frustrated at the weeks of planning required to orchestrate these moments of ecstasy.

By the end of the third year in the castle this act had lost its novelty. Every acquaintance that the king had known came to adore Gemma. She smiled gently and blushed just so, but by now the king had grown tired of this fettish. He was impatient when she tried to tease him afterward, and it was only in the throws of intimacy that she coaxed out his prayer to her, “The fairest in all of the land! The fairest,The fairest!” and so these small moments became the only ones in which she derived pleasure.

A couple of years went by in this way. Anticlimactically if you will. Gemma was slowly passing her prime years, and in response she paid more money for more special creams and more fancy clothes, and she began to wear fine make up as well. She could be seen shopping or rowing to thin her arms and consistently trying to avoid Snow , who was becoming a striking young woman that brought out her worst insecurities.

One night at dinner after Snow wiped her puffy ruby lips, her father truly looked at her and startling them both said, “ Snow, how you've grown into your beauty. You’ve become the fairest maiden in all of the land!” and he smiled, such a loving smile, before remembering to glance at Gemma with a bit of trepidation. Snow beamed, but then quickly looked back down at her food, she was much more uncomfortable with praise than her stepmother. Gemma for her part stayed very calm, though her heart felt heavy with ice, and her eyes reflected it. She excused herself and she cancelled her performance for the next week.

The king soon forgot all about his blunder and tried to bond with Gemma in the only way he knew how, but he was too late. He had said a true thing, that everyone around her could corroborate. Snow had surpassed Gemma and this was a stone in her heart that grew blacker by the day. Every time she passed snow she couldn't help but envy the way that she floated around gracefully and the way that her cheekbones held up her wide set eyes. She increasingly avoided her, taking her dinner in her room and making sure to ask that Snow wasn't on the lake when she wanted to go out. But it wasn't enough, Gemma started to look in her beloved mirror and see spite peering back at her. There was nothing that she could do with her face that would erase a decade or the ugliness of being disfigured by hatred and bitterness. She had little other interests or obligation to begin with, and so this obsession with Snow took her over, rotted her from the inside out, until all she could do to fall asleep at night was fantasize of her death.

#evil queen #snow white #origin story #mirror mirror #short story

2 notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

So Henry, you want to start a YouTube channel? - Chapter 4

Summary: Twenty five year old YouTuber Sandy Choi has no idea that one of her five million subscribers is the one and only Henry Cavill. When he asks her to help him out with starting his own YouTube channel, she falls more and more in love with her. But she should’ve known that dating one of the most desirable bachelors, does come with a prize.

Henry Cavill x Sandy Choi (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 3.1k

A/N: If you want to be on the taglist, please let me know. Also, I really like reading that you like the story. Such a great way to make my day xx

Masterlist // Channel introduction // Previous chapter // Next chapter

The next day Sandy uploaded a new video. It’s a summer night time routine and Henry watches every second of it, making mental notes as the video progresses. He is even thinking about picking up a skin care routine himself, simply because she is doing it. The Sandy on his iPad screen takes off her make-up and he admires her. She already looks adorable with make-up on, probably because of her cheeks, but seeing her bare face like this, he can’t help but wonder what life would look like if she was his girlfriend.

These last two days, he realized he not only admired her, her work ethic and the way she shows her life on the vlogs and makes it look like she has her shit together, but that he was falling in love with her. And he is falling head first.

He can’t stop himself anymore. He dreams about a life where Sandy Choi is his girlfriend. She would walk into the kitchen in his shirt, that is way too big for her. She’d be hugging him from behind as he makes her breakfast, pressing kisses on his back. He’d lift her on the counter, so he could press tons of kisses on her cheeks, causing her to giggle. Her slender arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He thinks about how she would beat his ass with Mario Kart, leaving him a sulking mess. She would kiss him, her soft lips on his, hoping she could brighten him up.

He even envisions her sitting on his lap as she would help him edit a video or sit between his thighs on the couch as he would teach her his favorite games. He’d help her control the console, his thumbs helping hers and kiss her temple every time she does it right.

He has been single for awhile and it was better this way, not dating anyone. Being a bachelor had its perks and he enjoyed it. However meeting Sandy in real life, has him stop him right in his tracks.

He keeps thinking about her smile, about her lovely laugh and the way she blinks her eyes a little quicker when she’s nervous. Everything she does he admires, he likes and he cherishes.

He printed out his favorite picture he made of her yesterday. She’s absolutely stunning and it was not an easy process picking out just one picture he loved. He can’t wait to give her the framed picture. He rewatched some of her videos, hoping he’d get a better idea of what her room looks like. He found a frame in an old box, thinking it would match her aesthetic.

He leans back again the chair, while he holds the picture frame in his hand, staring at Sandy. She’s next to the sunflower and she’s giggling. He can almost hear it again.

She is really photogenic and the fact that she’d let herself being photographed like this, means she’s comfortable with him right?

When she confessed about how she was feeling being around him, he admired her courage to share this with him. It’s personal and he never pecked her for sharing too much personal details of herself this early on in their friendship. She is always pretty neutral in her vlogs, never really personal. He watched some of her Q&A’s and she managed to answer everything, but still leave a lot to the imagination.

The Sandy on his iPad is walking in the most adorable pajamas he has ever seen (a cute pink two piece) to her bed. Her soft voice over says: ‘That is my night time summer routine. I hope you enjoyed this video.’ She gets into the bed and flicks off her light. ‘Remember,’ he hears her say, while the screen stays black, ‘stay hydrated, love yourself and be kind to the people who deserve it and most importantly: yourself.’

Her outro that matches the soft vibe this video has, is a picture of her sitting near her window with a cup of tea in her hand and some links to her social media.

He hears an incoming message and his heart starts to beat a whole lot faster when he sees her name on the screen. Her profile picture is her in a cafe, with a cute beret on her head. She looks cute as a button and the fact that he knows her in real life, is almost like winning the jackpot.

Sandy Choi: I figured out what your first video should be about.

Henry: Enlighten me, please.

Sandy Choi: A channel trailer.

Henry has seen her channel trailer, since she updated hers a few months ago. It was one of the first videos he watched of her. It was beautifully done, but can he do that? Can he pull it off?

Sandy Choi: I can help you out today. If you want of course?

That’s an opportunity that Henry will take with both of his hands. Every moment he can spend with her, is one he’ll take.

Henry: That would be awesome.

He quickly cleans up a bit around the house, rushes upstairs for a quick shower and gets ready in record time. He opts for a dark blue shirt and one of his new jeans shorts. He hasn’t had the chance to wear it yet and he thinks she’d approve of this.

He wonders what she’ll look like today. Yesterday she wore a beautiful white dress, with black sandals underneath them. He can’t believe she thought that she wasn’t fashionable enough for a fashion channel.

Henry hears the doorbell ring, followed by a bark from Kal. He rushes downstairs and he can already see Kal wagging his tail, as if he knows who is coming over. He ushers Kal into the living room and takes a deep breath before he opens up the door.

God, Sandy is adorably beautiful. She wears a jeans short, a white crop top above it and paired it with white platform sneakers. She has put her hairs in two braids, her bangs and some strands of hair framing her face. She has a big bag with her. ‘You walked here?’ he asks her, after he got over his initial shock of how pretty she is.

She nods. ‘Mhm.’

‘You should’ve told me,’ he says, grabbing the heavy looking bag from her. ‘I could’ve picked you up.’

He wonders what her answer will be to that. She keeps on surprising him from time to time. She’s shy, but at the same time she can be real witty. ‘I’m a strong and independent woman, Henry,’ she says, as she walks inside.

He closes the door behind her and he is impressed that she carried this around town for half an hour, without a single drop of sweat. For him, it’s like lifting up a piece of paper, but for someone as petite as her? He shouldn’t have underestimated her like that.

‘Just be careful with that bag,’ she tells him. ‘I brought own camera, laptop, iPad and some other stuff with me. Stuff we’ll need for your channel trailer.’

When Sandy walks into the living room, Kal rushes to her and in excitement, he jumps up. ‘Kal, watch it, that’s not how you greet a lady,’ Henry says, but Kal is having non of it, because he keeps on jumping up, wanting to lick her face. She yelps when he stands on his hind legs, ready to place his front paws on her shoulders. Henry quickly stands between his furry companion and Sandy. ‘Calm down,’ he sternly tells him.

Kal whines, but stays on all of his legs, looking around Henry’s legs to stare at Sandy. ‘Is it safe?’ she softly asks.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry. He’s usually pretty calm, but something about you makes him go mad.’

Sandy smiles and Henry watches as she pets his head. Kal is completely smitten with her, his eyes nearly changing into heart eyes when he looks at her and he leans into her touch. If Henry is being completely honest, he can’t blame him, since he is in the exact same boat as his Akita.

Henry places the bag on the table. ‘You want something to drink?’

She nods. ‘Water.’

‘I have other things,’ he tries, but she shrugs. ‘Sure you don’t want something sweet? Chocolate or—’

‘You have chocolate?’ she asks, standing up straight, looking at him with her eyes enlarged.

Henry knew that that would work. He chuckles. ‘I do.’

She walks up to the table and says: ‘I’d love some chocolate.’

Henry needs to tear his gaze away from her, but if it was up to him, he’d stare at her forever. It’s not just her beauty, it’s her pleasant aura as well. In her videos, she always looks really calm, like she knows what she’s doing. Though Sandy can be pretty quiet around him, he likes having her around. Sometimes he does have a feeling that she’s holding back though. Not only in her videos, but also in real life. He doesn’t think she is fully aware of how funny she is, talented and that not only she’s a great listener, but also a fantastic story teller, in writing and when she’s with him. There’s something deep down there that she has yet to uncover and unleash, to show the world.

‘So, I have been thinking about your channel,’ she says.

Henry walks to the table, places her glass of water and the chocolates on a plate next to her. In complete contrast to yesterday, she seems to be comfortable right away and he thinks that’s a good sign. ‘Tell me.’

‘You know, my channel is based around Life with Sandy Choi. Taking them with me., showing them parts of my life and how certain things work. Maybe yours can be Life with Henry Cavill.’

‘Isn’t that copying you?’

‘It’s not trademarked, Henry,’ she says. ‘But something along the lines of that. Because if you do something like that, means you’re free to upload whatever you want. If you name it, I don’t know… Fitness with Henry or Build a stuff with Henry, you sort of force yourself into one part of yourself.’

She has a point. He leans against the table with his hands. ‘Yeah?’

‘Mhm.’ She grabs her iPad out of her bag and the Apple pen and sits on the chair. It’s adorable to see that her feet are dangling, not even close to touching the floor. She starts to write something, completely lost in her own world, giving Henry time to just simply look at her. He quietly grabs his phone and takes a picture of her, wanting to remember this moment forever.

Sandy finally looks up. ‘What do you think?’ She turns her iPad around and his eyes nearly roll out of their sockets.

‘Did you just make a logo?’ he asks, sitting next to her on a chair.

‘Mhm, just need to finish up the drawing of you and Kal, but other than that, it looks pretty okay, right?’

‘Pretty okay? Sandy, this is fantastic. Honestly, is there something you can’t do?’ He leans in a bit, so he can check out the logo. She made a rough sketch of him and Kal, but even in the sketch, he can tell that it’s them. Above the drawing of them she wrote “life with” and underneath it “Henry (and Kal)”, in such a lovely handwriting.

‘It’s not that great.’

He simply dismisses what she just said there. ‘You are by far the most talented person I have ever met,’ he says, looking up, to see that she’s already watching him. Her face is really close and he watches her tongue wetting her lips. ‘Honestly.’

Her cheeks turn in a soft pink color. ‘Thanks, Henry.’

Henry feels her breath against his lips. He uses all of his willpower not to lean in and kiss her. It would be weird and actually rude to just kiss her, but God, with the way she looks now, he just wished that she was his girlfriend, that he could kiss her whenever he wanted.

‘And I was thinking about your channel trailer,’ she says. ‘We could film some shots today, but you can also start just filming your life. Just like the intros I use before every vlog, you can use some footage you’ll make this week. You don’t have to post that, but it might be useful.’

He heard her, perfectly clear, but he is distracted by his own thoughts. He keeps wondering about how it would feel when she’d place her tiny hand in his. He keeps wondering what it would be like to hug her body close, to have her face buried in his neck, her warm breath against the sensitive skin. ‘That sounds good,’ he eventually manages to say. ‘I really need to find a way to thank you, once the channel is in the air.’

She shrugs. ‘No need to, I like helping you out.’

⟢⟡⟣

Henry doesn’t want this day to end. Though it was really silent every now and then, he noticed that she was getting more and more comfortable with him. She even slapped him across his arm, only to keep on apologizing over and over again, to a point where he simply told her that he barely even felt it.

They had made tons of shots and she really knows what she is doing. Seeing her behind the camera, telling him what he should do, he saw that glimpse of what he knew what was there all along.

Afterwards, she showed him how Final Cut Pro worked, by opening her own laptop and showing him step by step how he could use this program. She even wrote some short cuts down on a piece of paper.

Though he is slightly intimidated by how easily she does it, but she told him that she was worse than he was when she first opened her laptop to edit a video and that he has nothing to worry about.

The two of them only ate some ice cream for dinner, since this hot weather makes it hard for both of them to eat something remotely healthy and the ice cream cools them down. It’s about nine in the evening, but Sandy has yet to leave his place.

If it were up to Henry, she didn’t leave. It’s nice not being alone with a dog, but to have some company, someone to look at during the day, that would be nice. Henry scrolls through the pictures of his phone, while he waits for the freezer to open again, after it vacuumed itself shut. He knows by now that forcing it to open isn’t helping the situation at all, but it gives him plenty of time to look at the pictures he made today of her. He already sent a few to her, but the one he made of her earlier today, with her iPad in hand, is by far his favorite.

That reminds him, he was going to give her the photo he printed out for her. Maybe when she has to leave, he can give it to her.

Finally the freezer opens up again and he gets the ice cubes, to put in her glass of water. Henry walks back to the living room, only to see how Sandy fell asleep against Kal, her head resting on his side.

He smiles as he stares at the sight of the young woman and his dog. Her fingers are wrapped around his paw. Kal lazily opens up his eyes, as Henry pulls out his phone again, to make a picture of the woman he is heavily crushing on and his lovely dog.

He quietly walks upstairs, to make the bed in the guest room. He places an air cooler in the room and fills the tank with some water. He goes downstairs again, only to see her still fast asleep. He really doesn’t want to wake her up, but he also doesn’t want her to sleep on the couch, especially not in that position. It would kill him if she actually strained her back. He carefully slides his hand underneath her knees and her upper body and lifts her up with ease. She places her forehead against his shoulder, her entire body completely relaxed.

Henry can’t stop smiling as he walks up the stairs. He feels her fingers fisting the material of his shirt as she tries to turn on her side in his arms. ‘Easy, easy,’ he softly whispers.

Gently he places her in the bed, taking off her shoes and covering her with a thin blanket. He walks back downstairs, to grab some cooling elements to put in the air cooler. When he is back in the room, he sees she hasn’t moved at all. He tries not to drop the cooling elements in the tank too hard, since he really doesn’t want to wake her up. For a moment he looks at her and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing over her soft cheek. ‘Good night, Sandy.’

Henry walks out of the room, closes the door behind him, when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He looks at the screen and sees Jackson send him a text.

Jackson: I had to hear from my sweet lady Lacey that you have been meeting up with Sandy Choi for three days in a row now?

Jackson: Were you planning on telling me this?

Jackson: Like ever?

Jackson: Because now I heard the details from Lacey, because Sandy is a nice friend and actually tells her stuff about your rendezvous.

Henry: You only told me about Lacey, two minutes before your party started and since you have been hanging out non stop with her, I have to do my morning run by myself.

Henry: I wanted to tell you then, but if you just leave me hanging.

Jackson: Very funny. How was it today?

Henry: It was amazing, she is really talented. She helped me film something and showed me the editing software. I can't believe that she’s actually part of my life now.

Jackson: That is sickening sweet. You’re still hanging out?

Henry: No, she’s upstairs now.

Jackson: Mister Cavill 😏

Henry: It’s nothing like that. She was tired from filming, being in the sun a lot. She fell asleep.

Jackson: Well, I heard from Lacey that in those seven months that miss Choi is living here, she has yet to spend time with someone else, beside Lacey. Think you’re doing something good, bud.

Taglist: @flhorah // @henrythickcavill // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @tumblnewby // @newts-fan-case // @thelastsock

#henry cavill #so henry you want to start a youtube channel #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x sandy choi

112 notes · View notes

gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: G

Summary: When Marinette has to cook for her family reunion, Adrien offers to help. Only one problem: he has no idea how to cook. With Plagg's help, Adrien proposes a Disney-inspired solution that will either keep him from making a fool of himself, or backfire terribly. (Spoiler alert: it backfires terribly.) A university-aged Adrinette reveal fic.

Word Count: 6437

XXX

“Plagg, what am I going to do? I don’t know how to cook!” Adrien pulled at his hair as he paced circles around his apartment.

Plagg, meanwhile, lazily hovered with his paws crossed behind his head. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you tried to swoop in like some kind of superhero.”

“I am a superhero.” Not that it mattered, because his superpower was destruction. Maybe his Lady would’ve been able to help Marinette cook dinner for her family reunion, but Adrien was … well. Even though the cat miraculous didn’t actually make him more disaster prone, he had enough bad luck in the kitchen on his own. He’d survived on spaghetti and takeout since moving into his own apartment this semester.

“Why don’t you just tell her you can’t do it? Something came up. You fell headfirst into a pool of cream cheese. You got zapped by an akuma and all your hair fell out.”

“That hasn’t happened in at least a month. Besides, I can’t flake out on Marinette. She needs me.” He stood up straighter.

“What she needs is someone who won’t turn soup into an explosive. What about your friend Alya? Isn’t her mom some kind of chef?”

“She’s out of town for Christmas. Nino too, or I’d ask him to help me.” Did he know anyone else who could teach him how to cook in one night? Kagami was back in Japan, Chloe wouldn’t touch an oven to save her life, Luka was on tour with XY… Ladybug was pretty much his only friend still in town. She would probably be willing to teach him, but on their last patrol she’d mentioned she’d be busy the next few days with her own plans.

“You need to get some more friends, kid.”

“It’s kind of late for that,” Adrien murmured. Too many people in his classes were more interested in the Gabriel name than in him. Besides, he might not have made a lot of new friends, but he’d gotten much closer to Marinette and his old friends now that he had more control over his schedule.

“Well, as your very first and best friend—”

“Chloe was technically my first friend.”

Plagg glared. “As your first and best friend, I will help you for the low low price of two wheels of Camembert.”

Adrien stopped pacing. He only realized he’d ended up in the bathroom when he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

“Wait. You know how to cook?”

Plagg scoffed. “I’ve been alive since the dawn of time. I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You also thought that my blender was a jet tub for kwamis.”

“Okay, so you humans have invented some fancy new gadgets since I was last out, big deal. I still know more about cooking than you.”

Unfortunately, he was probably right.

“Alright. Deal.” Adrien held out a finger, and he and Plagg shook on it.

“Alright, loverboy, let’s get cooking.”

XXX

“No, not like that! What are you trying to do, knock someone out with that thing?”

“At least I wouldn’t do it with the smell!” Adrien instinctively waved the frying pan in front of his nose, and the burned remnants of roux glopped out onto the tile.

“Coward. It’ll taste good once you put it all together.”

Adrien wasn’t convinced. But then again, he hadn’t followed Plagg’s instructions exactly. Plagg never gave him quite enough time to pour the ingredients in the pan or measure the spices with the little spoons.

“I wish you’d be able to help me while I’m there.” Adrien sighed. “I’m going to forget all of this as soon as I leave.”

“You can’t be good at everything, I guess.” Plagg shrugged. “You can still always call your girlfriend and say you gave up.”

“She’s a good friend. We’ve been over this.” He’d promised not to call Marinette ‘just a friend’ on the grounds that she deserved better than that. But she still wasn’t his girlfriend. Which was fine, so why did his stomach sink slightly? Probably just nervousness about the task ahead of him.

“And I’m not giving up. What if you just … hid in my hair and whispered advice?”

Plagg tapped his chin. “Maybe if you wear a hat …” A grin suddenly split his tiny face. “Hey, what if you wore that ug—uh, that beret Ladybug gave you? You know, from your fan club?”

“Great idea!” Adrien bolted out of the bathroom and towards his closet. He wore the hat every once in a while—its ridiculous energy was too good to leave hidden like it had been in lycée. He made a special point of wearing it to every meeting with his dad, though he did feel a little bit nervous of wearing it around Marinette. She was in their university’s design program; she’d probably think it was tacky.

Oh well. He’d probably been tackier around her before.

“You sure you’ll fit in here?” Adrien squinted at the underside of the beret before pulling it over his hair.

“Looks cozy enough to me.” Plagg slipped under, and Adrien felt him shuffle around. Unfortunately, his voice was too muffled for Adrien to make out after that.

“Plagg?”

“Blegh.” The kwami scrambled back out and scraped his tongue with his paws. “Your hair tastes like shampoo. I can’t talk without getting a mouthful of it.”

“Guess that isn’t going to work …” He pursed his lips as he adjusted the beret. “It’s too bad real life isn’t like Ratatouille. You could just tug on my hair and do all the cooking for me.”

Unless …?

“Oh no, don’t give me that look.” Plagg crossed his arms. “That’s just a movie. Though it would be nice to show you what it feels like to get dragged around for a change …”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Adrien didn’t really think it would work either, but Plagg was magic.

“Fine. But I’m upping my price to three wheels.”

Plagg slipped back under the beret, and Adrien felt a tugging sensation on his scalp. But nothing seemed to happen.

“Guess that was a pretty dumb idea,” he admitted sheepishly.

Then green light crackled from his ring.

His arms flung into the air.

“Ack! Plagg, did you do that?”

Adrien heard a muffled cackle from under the hat. Then his legs started walking towards the refrigerator.

“Okay, so this is … working? This is working!”

Plagg missed a few times before guiding his hand to pull open the fridge. Of course, his next step was to reach for a wedge of Camembert and hold it up to his head.

“The sweet taste of victory,” Plagg said while popping out to swallow the wedge whole.

“More like the rotten taste of old cheese.”

But Adrien still grinned. However Plagg had pulled off his puppeteer trick, Adrien wasn’t going to make a fool of himself tomorrow.

XXX

“Adrien!” Marinette threw her arms around him as soon as she opened the door. “Thank goodness you’re here. My parents just called and they got a last-minute order and—eep!” She sprung back, her eyes wide as she stared at his beret.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to feel embarrassed. Marinette wouldn’t judge him based on what he wore. “It was an old gift. I like that it drives my father crazy.”

Plus, Ladybug had hand-delivered it, but she probably didn’t care about that.

“W-well then, it’s perfect.” She grinned too wide. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a hat before.”

“You’ve definitely—”

“Anyway, no time for that! There’s only five hours before Uncle Wang gets here. Nonna is already at my parent’s, and my other grandma and grandpa are coming for the first time since Mom moved here. Not to mention fourteen of my cousins I’ve never met and their parents!” Marinette rushed towards the small kitchen, which was already full of steaming pots and used pans. She threw on her pink oven mitts and pulled a tray of golden-brown pastries out of the oven.

Adrien swallowed. Marinette’s kitchen might look like a war zone, but she clearly knew what she was doing. What if he just got in the way?

“How did you end up in charge of the food?” he asked while throwing on a mint-green apron from inside the pantry door. Her great-uncle was a world-class chef, and her parents owned a bakery. Her grandpa Rolland had even taught mice how to bake.

“I’m not in charge. I just need to help a little since Uncle Wang is running late, and the reunion starts tonight, and Grandpa won’t bake anything in bulk because ‘that’s not how it’s done’’—she used a gruff imitation of his voice—“and my parents have so much bakery work to do. I’m just trying to do what I can.”

She sighed as she stirred a pot of wonton soup. “Unfortunately, I can’t do a lot.”

“What are you talking about? It looks like you could feed an army with all this.”

He carefully dodged Marinette as she scrambled in a drawer for a fork. She tested the rice noodles boiling behind the soup, then grimaced and slumped against the counter, fork nearly slipping from her fingers. Her hair was falling out of her bun, and flour smudged her pink apron, contrasting with the splatters of dark sauce.

“I hope so. There’s just … so much to live up to, you know? Everyone on both sides of my family cooks. And now I have to merge styles from two different cultures in a way that will please everyone …”

Her gaze swept across the counter, where dumplings and quiches, brothy soups and thin crêpes—even ratatouille, ironically—lay in various stages of completion. The savory and sweet fragrances somehow melded together in harmony.

“I know I can’t understand how hard that must be. About trying to bridge two different sides of your family, I mean. But you’re amazing, Marinette.” He stepped closer to her and brushed a streak of flour off of her cheek. “You’ve already worked so hard on all this; I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t love it. May I?”

He gestured to a spoon sitting in one of the soups, and she nodded. He raised it to his lips and sipped the tangy broth. A bit of crunchy bamboo shoot added texture to the savory liquid. He didn’t want to eat too much—it was for her family, not him—but if it weren’t for that, he could’ve downed the whole bowl. He could practically taste the love and care she’d put into it.

“See? Amazing.” He grinned. “Just like the rest of the food we’re going to make.”

At least, the food she made would be amazing. He just hoped that what he made with Plagg’s help would be edible. And not offend her family.

Her lips parted before curving into a smile. “Right. Thank you, Adrien.”

She paused, staring for a moment, until one of the shallow pots started bubbling over.

“Ack! The filling!”

She rushed to switch off the burner and remove the lid before sighing loudly. “I think it’s still alright. Now I just need to fold this into the dough …”

“Can I help with that?” he asked, feeling like a rock in the middle of a river as Marinette flowed between the cooking stations around him.

“Huh? Oh—um, why don’t you work on filling the crêpes instead? This baozi is a Chinese dish, and it’s my first time making it by myself. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer! You were so sweet to come at all, and—”

“Marinette.” He squeezed her shoulder gently, wishing he could relieve some ot the tension there. “I’ll do the crêpes.”

She let out a breath. “Thanks. I was going to do a pear-hazelnut filling, if you’re okay with that? The pears are in the bottom right drawer of the fridge, and the hazelnuts are on the middle shelf in the panty. All the spices are up there.” She pointed to the cabinet above the sink.

“Sounds perfect,” he said with the fake confidence he usually saved for his modeling jobs.

Before he could ask for a recipe, she went back to work, leaving him to his own devices in front of a stack of unfilled crêpes. A mixture of the rich smells and his own nerves started to turn his stomach.

“Are you ready, Plagg?” he whispered, adjusting his beret.

In response, his scalp twinged, and then his hand rose and formed a thumbs-up.

“Well, here we go.” He cracked his knuckles.

He rinsed out a pan that it looked like Marinette had previously used for some kind of stir fry. That wouldn’t be a problem, would it? It looked like every other pan in the apartment was in use already.

Marinette didn’t stop to correct him. Then again, she seemed to be in ten places at once, adding spices and stirring and adjusting dials and rummaging through cupboards, all in between filling her baozi. Watching her work was so mesmerizing it was almost too easy to ignore his own job.

Until Plagg started tugging his hair again, anyway.

This is going to be weird, he thought while Plagg directed his hands to chop the pears. He was pretty sure he could’ve done that himself—he didn’t want his kwami chopping off one of his fingers. But resisting at this point would just increase his chances of accidentally getting stabbed.

Besides, Plagg was fast. He diced the five pears in the time it probably would’ve taken Adrien to cut up one. Granted, he also left a juicy mess on the counter, but it sounded like they were on too much of a deadline to worry about that.

Plagg tossed them into the pan, cores and all. Adrien frowned at that.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered.

“What?” Marinette asked from where she was stretching out dough.

“Um, nothing! I just, uh, talk to myself while I cook.”

“Oh, me too. I was just trying not to do it in front of you. You know, in case I sounded crazy.” She laughed, seeming to release a little bit of tension. “I think I picked it up from my mom. She always says the steps out loud as she does them so she doesn’t forget which one she’s on.”

He smiled at the image of her doing this with Mrs. Cheng. “Did you cook with your mom a lot?”

“I don’t think I’d say a lot. I was pretty busy in lycée, and I didn’t appreciate her culture as much as I do now. I wish I would’ve learned more.”

“It looks like you learned a lot if you can put all this together.”

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

He retrieved the hazelnuts and tossed them into the pan. She still had her back to him, the baozi taking up most of her attention. Should he ask her to check his work so far? Plagg didn’t hesitate to nab some spices from the high cabinet and start sprinkling them into the pan.

“Wait—not that one!” he hissed, trying to drop the shaker that read chili powder before Plagg could add it.

“Adrien? Is something wrong?”

He spun, quickly shoving the container behind his back. “No! Everything’s just peachy—er, pear-y.”

She giggled at his joke, even though it had to be one of his lamest puns yet.

“Okay, but you can let me know if you need help. Sorry I just kind of threw you into this.” Her arm gently brushed his as she dialed back the heat on the noodles. “Um—is there a reason you’re holding chili powder?”

“I was just moving it so I could reach the, uh…”

Plagg helpfully directed his arm towards a different spice.

“... garlic salt?”

Marinette blinked, and he hastily shoved the garlic salt back, selecting cinnamon instead. He should’ve known that trusting the kwami who liked eating rotten cheese would be a mistake.

“You’re so funny, Adrien.” She laughed again. “But, um, you might want to double check your pears. I think some of those still have the cores in them.”

His face flushed. Thanks a lot, Plagg.

He picked out the cores with a pair of tongs, hoping that his kwami wouldn’t try to take over again. Adrien might be bad at cooking, but at least he wasn’t going to try and poison Marinette’s family.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much idea of what to do next. He’d turned the burner on high, and the pears were starting to sizzle. How did nuts cook? That didn’t make a lot of sense to him. He probably needed something liquidy to go with them, right?

Aaaand the pears already smelled like they were burning. He quickly flipped back the knob while he searched for something to turn into a sauce. Milk? That would make it nice and creamy, right?

He grabbed the half-gallon from the fridge and splashed a bit into the pan. Drops splattered the counter, and he winced.

That was when Plagg again decided to take over. Adrien grit his teeth as he selected the block of muenster from the cheese drawer. That definitely didn’t belong in the crêpe filling, but Adrien couldn’t get him to stop without making a scene in front of Marinette. Who would then wonder why he was yelling at himself, and either think he was insane or find out his secret identity. Both of which would be unacceptable.

He growled, hoping Plagg would get the message. If he did, he didn’t show it. At least Marinette didn’t hear over her own soft humming.

The sliced cheese went into the pan, plopping wetly in the milk. Maybe the finished product would surprise him, and cheese and pears would create a tasty sweet-savory combo, and Marinette would be super impressed by his originality, and she’d invite him over to cook with him again, and they’d make a cute romantic dinner together …

He banished that daydream before he could think too much of it.

By that point Plagg was using his arm to whisk the milk and melting cheese together. The pears and hazelnuts had settled to the bottom of the pan. He frowned as the whisk failed to unstick them.

“This isn’t working,” he said under his breath. “We might need to start over.”

He swore he could hear Plagg’s irritated sigh. But the kwami jerked the pan up, taking it towards the sink.

“Hey, what are you—Plagg!” he shouted before he could stop himself.

Plagg dropped the pan in the sink, spraying hot milk-cheese-pear slime all over the backsplash. And all over Adrien’s apron.

And, most importantly, all over his face.

“Adrien!” Marinette dropped her unfinished dumpling back on the counter. Filling spilled out as she rushed to his side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He hurriedly tried to splash cold water on his face, but spilled it more down his shirt than anything. She offered him a damp hand towel, which was much more helpful.

“I’m so sorry.” His face still burned, but not from the hot food.

“It’s okay! Accidents happen—trust me, I would know.” She smiled before her eyes widened. “Oh no, your beret!”

“What?” He slapped his hands to his head, prompting a tiny yelp from Plagg. So he was still there. Under his hat. Which was still on his head. Phew.

“It’s got milk on it.” Marinette reached up like she intended to take it off.

“No!” he shouted, and she stepped back, startled.

“S-sorry! I just thought I’d help you clean it off, since it seems so, um, important to you.”

“I like it with the milk on it. It adds, uh, character?”

He heard Plagg snicker from beneath the beret.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “If you need to take a break, or, um, get a new shirt … n-not that I want you to take off your shirt! Uh—forget I said that.”

She shook her head, and more strands fell out of her bun.

He frowned down at his shirt. Unfortunately, the splatter had made it under his apron, and his shirt was pretty gross. He even felt a slimy pear sliding down under his collar.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Finishing all the food for your reunion is more important.”

“No, don’t worry. I can handle it. Just having you here to keep me from freaking out has helped more than you know.”

She took the towel back from him with a smile. Frankly, he was still surprised she wasn’t angry with him. He’d come to help, and all he’d done so far was waste her time.

“I’m really not bothering you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Bad idea. His hands were still a bit wet and sticky.

“You could never bother me, Adrien.” Her cheeks pinked before she turned back to fiddle with the soup.

“Really? I thought …” He bit his lip, remembering how many times he’d startled Marinette before. How many times he’d seemed to make her uncomfortable, or awkward, or … he wasn’t really sure what. There had always been something keeping them apart, no matter how close they became.

Maybe it’s just your little crush, Plagg would’ve teased. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to talk while trapped under the beret.

“Thought what?” she asked once she’d added some seasonings to the soup.

“I thought I’d be your last pick for cooking help,” he said, which wasn’t quite a lie. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I … well, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Best to just admit it now, rather than after he’d ruined her family reunion.

Marinette blinked before covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known you probably never cooked at your house. And here I am just asking you to throw together a crêpe filling!”

“It’s okay! I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve told you, I just … I wanted to impress you.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that much. He was sure he heard Plagg laughing from under his hat.

“You … wanted to impress … me?” She pointed to herself, as if there was anyone else in the kitchen he might have been talking about.

“Is that really so surprising?”

“Uh—yeah, actually.” Marinette stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Plagg hadn’t peeked out, had he? “I might be able to cook, but you’re good at everything. Fencing, basketball, Mandarin—which took me ages to get halfway decent at—not to mention you’re drop-dead gorgeous—”

His heart stopped. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

“I mean—you’re a model; of course you’re gorgeous! It’s literally your job. I bet people call you gorgeous all the time.”

“Not when I’m covered in slimy food, though.” He grinned. She thought he was drop-dead gorgeous! Maybe he hadn’t made too much of a mess after all.

“Well—you would be a lot more gorgeous if you took off that stupid beret!” She pointed at his head.

“W-what?” He pulled it down over his ears. “This is my emotional support beret. I can’t take it off or I’ll cry.”

“Why did you have to pick that one, though? It’s so—I don’t know!” She gestured vaguely. “It looks like a fourteen-year-old made it!”

He pouted at her. “Hey, be nice. It was probably fashionable in Brazil at the time.”

It did look pretty silly, but that was its appeal. Fashion-savvy Marinette probably wouldn’t understand that.

“R-right. In Brazil.” She shook her head. “Why do you like it though?”

He blushed. Aside from spitting in the face of the Gabriel brand, it also reminded him of the day Ladybug had appeared in his room. That serendipitous event had never happened before or since.

“How embarrassing does it sound if I say my old crush delivered it to me?”

“Your—your crush?” She blinked. “But then—you had a crush on Ladybug?”

The soup started bubbling again, but she made no move to quiet it.

“Of course I have a crush on Ladybug. I’m pretty sure all of Paris has a crush on—wait, how did you know Ladybug was the one to deliver it?”

Marinette’s face went pale. “I—um, well, I … I think the soup is burning!”

She rushed to stir it again, but Adrien caught her hand.

“Wait, Marinette, please.” His heart beat faster. He’d never told anyone about Ladybug’s visit. She hadn’t been surprised when he mentioned Brazil, either.

But what could he say? Come out and ask her if she was Ladybug? That would be too good to be true, right? Marinette couldn’t be Ladybug; he’d seen them together once. But he’d pulled crazy stunts to protect his identity too.

She bit her lip, but didn’t pull her hand from his.

“I can’t answer that question, Adrien.”

It wasn’t a confirmation. But it wasn’t a denial either.

It had been five years. Five years, and he still didn’t know who his partner was. If she was here, in front of him, after all this time …

… he’d still respect her choice not to tell him. As much as it hurt, he’d do it.

“Alright.” He sighed. “I get it.”

An uncomfortable silence pushed between them, punctured only by the bubbling soup and beeping oven. The first batch of Marinette’s baozi was done; she removed them without speaking.

Why couldn’t they go back to five minutes ago, when she’d called him gorgeous? He was already thrilled to hear Marinette say that. But if she was his Lady too? He’d melt just like that cheese in the pan.

It was going to drive him crazy if he thought about it too long. He turned on the faucet, hoping that the loud water would drown out his thoughts as he did the dishes. At least that was one task he could accomplish without ruining any more of Marinette��s food.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible over the running tap.

“What for?” He was the one pushing the boundaries between them. If she was even Ladybug at all. Maybe he’d managed to misinterpret everything, but he couldn’t see how.

“For not being honest with you. I wish I could, I swear.” Her hands squeezed her dough, and it oozed out between her fingers.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” he said with resignation. Ladybug was the Guardian. She couldn’t risk revealing her identity. Even if it felt unfair, he should be used to it by now.

But before, you didn’t think Ladybug was one of your best friends.

Even more than that, if he was honest with himself. He’d wanted to be closer to Marinette for a long time now. What if he was just deluding himself with wishful thinking?

“I wish I didn’t, sometimes,” she murmured.

He switched off the faucet and turned to face her. Maybe some things needed to stay secret, but not everything.

“Marinette?” He swallowed.

She looked up from where she’d been absently rolling the dough again. So much for not wasting her time.

“Y-yeah?”

He didn’t expect to confess to her while standing in her kitchen, with Plagg hiding under his old beret, with his clothes covered in the ruined crêpe filling. But it was important, and if he could finally admit it to himself, the least he could do was admit it to her.

“I don’t just have a crush on Ladybug.”

“You—you don’t?”

Was it just his imagination, or did she deflate a little?

“She’s still very important to me. I know she always will be. But I’ve come to realize how important you are to me, too.” He watched her face as he spoke, but her wide eyes were impossible to read. Hopefully he wasn’t ruining everything with what he was about to say.

“I like you, Marinette. As more than a friend. And I would never want to make you uncomfortable. All I’ve ever wanted is to be closer to you.”

For a moment, her face didn’t change. She just stood there, staring blankly, like someone had pressed a pause button. He would’ve thought Bunnyx had stopped time to reset his screw-up if it weren’t for the soup continuing to boil over.

“Marinette?” he prodded, his stomach beginning to bubble as nervously as that soup.

She jumped. “Yes, I—comfort you me make—yike lou—”

A stream of incoherent noises followed that. Oh no, he’d broken her! Why couldn’t Plagg have taken over and stopped him from talking?

“—ugh! I thought I dopped stewing this years ago!” She dropped her burning face into her hands.

Adrien reached out to touch her shoulder and then thought better of it. His arm fell limply to his side.

“I’m so sorry. You can just forget I said anything. I’ll—I’ll let you finish up the food and get out of your way—”

“No!” She waved her hands, startling him so bad he stepped back—and slipped in a puddle of spilled dishwater.

“Adrien!” She caught the front of his apron as he fell, but that just meant she was pulled down on top of him.

He yelped as his head cracked against the linoleum. At least she landed on his chest, his arms cradling her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—AAAAAH!”

“What, what!?” He sat up as she scrambled off of him.

That was when he caught sight of the striped beret lying in the puddle next to him.

Oh no.

Plagg laughed nervously from where he was tangled in Adrien’s hair. “Hey, Pigtails.”

“Chat?” Marinette smacked her hands to her cheeks. “You’re—you’re Chat Noir?”

“Surprise!” Plagg wasn’t in Adrien’s line of sight, but he could hear the grin in his kwami’s voice.

“Where’s Bunnyx when you need her?” Adrien groaned. Not only was his confession a total bust, but he also ended up giving away his most important secret.

And he still didn’t know for sure that she was Ladybug.

“You’re Chat Noir.” Marinette plopped down into the puddle beside him. “Adrien is Chat Noir.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that,” Plagg said. “Are you gonna put the poor kid out of his misery or not?”

“Huh?” She blinked.

“He’s in love with you. Hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. He loves you almost as much as I love cheese.”

That was a pretty big point in favor of Marinette being Ladybug. He guessed he should count himself lucky, but that also meant he’d just slipped and fallen in dirty dishwater in front of not only Marinette, but Ladybug.

He closed his eyes. “Plagg, please let me die in peace.”

“... Adrien?”

He felt her breath fan over his face, and his eyes back snapped open.

Her gray-blue eyes were hovering right above him. Well, he had said he wanted to be closer to her.

“Y-yeah?”

“Please don’t die,” she said softly. Her hand came up to cradle the side of his face—or maybe she was just trying to make sure he hadn’t bruised himself. “I l-love you too.”

Every one of his brain cells fizzled out. She. Loved him?

“I think I am dead.” He smiled, reaching his arms around her. “I’m pretty sure I just went to heaven.”

Her face flushed. “You’re always going to be that cheesy, aren’t you?”

“Are you really surprised, Princess?”

“No.” She leaned in, brushing her nose against his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Ew, gross.” Plagg gagged. “This isn’t the kind of cheese I signed up for.”

“You’re the one who said she should put me out of my misery.”

“Yeah, well I think you both need to put this food out of its misery. The soup’s burning.”

Marinette sprung up, eyes wide. “Oh no! We still have to get everything ready! And the crêpe filling isn’t done and I haven’t finished the baozi—”

“It’s okay! We can still get it all done … somehow.” Adrien winced as he stood up. Now they were both covered in a mix of dishwater and crêpe filling. “Just keep Plagg away from it all. He’s the reason I ruined the pears. Oh, and he’s the reason I was wearing that beret, too.”

She went back to work as if nothing had changed between them. It was honestly kind of amazing how quickly she had the noodles and soup under control, like she hadn’t just been freaking out moments before.

“He’s got as awful taste in fashion as he does in food?” she asked.

“No—well, probably, but that’s not important. The beret was to hide him so he could help me cook. Like in Ratatouille.”

She blinked. “That works?”

“It would work better if my kwami knew how to cook, but yeah.”

“Hmm …” She tapped her lips—lips he would hopefully be able to kiss once all this was taken care of, he thought with a giddy grin—before snapping her fingers. “That’s it! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!”

“What’s it? Wait—Marinette, where are you going?”

“You’ll see!” She winked before disappearing behind her bedroom door.

He gave the soup a careful stir while waiting for her to come back.

“You’re welcome.” Plagg crossed his arms and smirked irritatingly.

“For what?” Adrien scowled. “All you did was give away my identity and embarrass me in front of the love of my life!”

“Love of your life?” Marinette appeared behind him.

He nearly knocked over the pot of soup. It was what he deserved for startling her so much back in lycée, he guessed.

Plagg snickered. “Bold words coming from the guy who called her a good friend earlier.”

“She is a good friend! And the love of my life! She’s Ladybug, Plagg!”

He pointed to the giant red-and-black egg in Marinette’s arms. The Miracle Box. She was Ladybug!

“You didn’t know that when you said it five seconds ago,” Plagg pointed out.

“Yeah, well—I guessed it,” he huffed.

It had been the only answer that made sense. And it was true. Hopefully he could blame the tears pricking his eyes on the onion in the soup. If not, though, crying over his amazing partner (who loved him!) was probably still the least embarrassing thing he’d done today.

Tikki poked her head out of a cookie jar. By now he’d been startled so many times that her presence hardly registered.

“Don’t worry, Adrien. Marinette has said way more embarrassing stuff than that.”

“Which we won’t repeat in front of him,” Marinette said dangerously.

His head was still spinning from all the revelations. Of course, he wasn’t too surprised—who else but Marinette was amazing enough to be Ladybug?—but it was still a lot to take in at once.

“While I definitely want to hear about that later, what’s the Miracle Box out for? Is there a kwami of cooking? Or do you think Sass could give us a Second Chance on all this mess?” he asked, trying to bring his focus back to the problem at hand.

“What you said about Plagg gave me an idea.” She punched in a code on the spots, and the egg cracked open to reveal the miraculouses. “He might not know how to cook, but I’m sure some of the other kwamis do. And if not, I’m sure they can follow directions.”

“Great idea, Marinette!” Tikki clapped. “Wayzz and Pollen are pretty good at cooking, from what I remember. Orikko is too, but you shouldn’t cook chicken in front of him.”

“Makes sense.” Adrien nodded before turning to Marinette. “You think they’ll be enough to make up for how badly I messed up?”

“Of course they will. We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir; there’s no mess we can’t fix.” She smiled as she equipped the bracelet and hair comb, then passed the Miracle Box to him. “Have Tikki help you pick out a few more kwamis. Together we’ll get this done in time. I know it.”

Relief washed over him, and he smiled back.

“As you wish, My Lady.”

XXX

“You’re sure I won’t be intruding?” Adrien asked as they pulled up to her parents’ bakery.

“Of course not. There’s no way my family would leave out my boyfriend.” She shifted her tupperware to her other arm and reached up to adjust his (newly cleaned) beret. “Even if he has terrible fashion sense.”

“It’s a Marinette original! There’s nothing more fashionable than that!”

“An original from when I was fourteen!” she pouted.

“It’s too late, Bugaboo. I’m never taking it off.” He kissed her forehead.

“I’ll make you a new one. Anything would be better than mixing lacy hearts and stripes.”

“I guess that’s fair. But I’ll still treasure this one forever.”

She rolled her eyes affectionately as she pushed open the bakery door.

Not long after, Adrien, Marinette, and her family were settled around the dining room table, a feast of French and Chinese cuisine in front of them. The two sides of her family mingled, mixing as seamlessly as the dishes. Rolland was deep in conversation with Wang about traditional cooking techniques in France versus China. Gina (who’d insisted he just call ‘Grandma’) was regaling two of Marinette’s cousins with tales from her travels. More of her younger cousins ran around the table, barefoot soles slapping against the hardwood floor, their hands occasionally reaching up to snag a dumpling or croissant. It was a tight fit, but Adrien didn’t mind. He was thrilled to be included at all.

While they ate dinner, he kept catching her looking at the hat. But every time she did, he’d make eye contact with her, and then she’d blush and smile bright enough that it was worth every glare.

“So, what are you up to these days, son?” Tom asked over his bowl of wonton soup.

Son. Already, Marinette’s parents felt more like family than his own. He would love to be part of her family for as long as she would let him.

Hopefully forever.

“Oh, not much.” He put an arm around Marinette. “Just learning how to cook from your amazing daughter.”

He winked, and she blushed again. Red was her color in and out of the suit, it seemed.

“He needs all the help he can get. You should’ve seen what he almost put in the crêpes today.”

Tom laughed. “Well, it looks like it all turned out perfect. Thanks for your help, both of you.”

Under the table, Adrien and Marinette shared a fistbump. This wasn’t the first adventure they tackled together, and it wouldn’t be the last.

#miraculous ladybug #fic tag #adrinette #adrienette #reveal #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tali writes #ml

75 notes · View notes

peanutbutterworm · 3 years

Text

i love you

here we go!! here is my moreid secret santa fic!

click here to read it on AO3

warnings: none, light angst at one point but it is mostly tooth rotting fluff

word count: 4196

summary: Penelope begs and begs Hotch until he finally lets her have a BAU secret santa party. There is a small problem for Dr. Spencer Reid however when he is set the task of giving a gift to his best friend and crush, Derek Morgan.

“Hotch please?” Penelope drew out the last vowel of the word, as if it would make him say yes.

“I told you, Garcia, it’s out of my hands for now. It sounds like a great idea, really, but I don’t think that Strauss nor the director would approve of it.”

“It doesn’t have to be a work thing! Just, as friends, as a family.”

“And I already told you, Garcia, as long as we’re using company time it is a ‘work thing’.”

“God why does everyone have to be so boring. It’s a bonding thing!” Penelope checked the date on her phone. “It’s November 29th, if we’re not allowed to do this I’m going on strike.”

“Mhm,” Hotch was already moving on to something else, and Penelope left in a huff. She ran into Spencer on the way back to her office.

“Hey Penelope,”

“Hi, Spencer.” She said curtly, storming past him.

“Woah, what’s going on today?” Spencer said, stopping her by grabbing her arm. Penelope sighed, realizing she wasn’t being her cheery self and someone was bound to notice, may as well be him.

“Walk with me, boy genius.” Penelope explained her current predicament on the way to her office, huffing and using her hands to talk the entire way.

“And I don’t get why Strauss won’t allow it! It’s a great team bonding activity, and we would have so much fun!” She finished explaining.

“Garcia, we have fun without ‘team bonding activities’, I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Because, I’m tired of being ignored. I just want one of my suggestions to go through and I’m starting to think Strauss doesn’t like me.”

“I’m pretty sure Strauss doesn’t like any of us,” Spencer said, sipping his coffee from a company mug.

“Yeah I know,” Penelope put her head into her hands and sighed. “Why are they so against us having fun?”

“They think it ‘interferes with the job’” Spencer said, quoting a seminar they were forced to go to.

“Yeah, bullshit.” Penelope half scoffed into her hands, half laughed. “How is it going with Derek?” She asked, smirking up at Spencer. Spencer couldn’t help but turn a little red whenever she asked about him. He had told Penelope about his crush on her best friend in September, and even though it had been going on for much longer Spencer was reminded every day why he didn’t tell her sooner. However Spencer never missed a chance to talk to her about it. Even though Penelope was a huge gossip, she would never tell Derek something this important without asking Spencer for permission first. And anyways, it was nice to get stuff off his chest.

“Nothing has really happened, just still lying awake at night thinking about him instead of doing something productive with my chronic insomnia.”

“How can you be productive with chronic insomnia anyways?”

“I don’t know… do things?” Spencer giggled and then paused, recalling something. “Wait, I do recall, I saw him at the grocery store.”

“No way, you two shop at the same place?”

“Unfortunately. I was too awkward to say anything anyways, and I looked like a mess too.”

“I’m sure he didn’t care. This is the man that saw me almost die and I need not remind you that he has seen you in the hospital. Multiple times.”

“I try not to remember.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No.”

“You are so boring,”

“It was late, Garcia. I don’t think I had the patience to deal with anyone, including him, and if you were to ask him I’m pretty sure he would say that feeling’s mutual by how he looked.” Spencer sighed. “He was so pretty though. Like sleepy pretty, not the way we see him at work.”

Penelope was just sitting there, sighing.

“What!” Spencer said, playing with a piece of dirt that was caught between his nails.

“Nothing. You are just so, so fucked.”

“I know!” Spencer dropped it and threw his hands to his face. “He’s just so… AH! I feel like a teenage girl.”

“Considering your looks, you might not be far off.”

“Hey!”

“Kidding, but really, you need to tell him. It’s gotta happen eventually.”

“No, I don’t want to ruin our friendship for my own feelings, it’s selfish.”

“Have you ever considered he might feel the same way?” Penelope asked, and Spencer just stared back at her. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“I just haven’t thought about it, of course it’s a probability but the chance that he likes me back is just so low. Did you know the chance of your crush liking you back is-” Spencer was cut off when Derek walked into the room, right into the middle of a conversation he had no idea was about him.

“Thank you for saving me from that,” Penelope said.

“Hotch needs you both at the round table,” was all Derek said, smirking at both of them.

“We’ll be there soon.” Spencer said, staring as Derek left the room. “Do you think he heard any of that?”

“You talk too fast and I wasn’t really keeping up very well, but no, I don’t think he knows it was about him at the very least.”

“Thank god.” Spencer sighed. “Come on, I don’t want to be yelled at by Hotch again.”

“Guess whatttttt!” Penelope said, with everyone mingling around their desks on a chilly December morning, having not been called in on a case yet for the day.

“Did someone die?” Emily asked, taking a headcount of everyone there, all BAU team members accounted for.

“What? No, oh my god Em. Unrelated to death, we get to have a secret santa!” She exclaimed, and everyone's faces lit up with smiles.

“Strauss thinks it would be good for us to bond over the holidays,” Hotch said, cracking a small smile.

“Yeah yeah, anyways write your names on these,” Penelope all handed them a torn piece of paper, “and put it in the magic hat.” She held out a small colorful beret she sometimes wore to work and mixed up all the names that were placed in it. “Now who wants to go first?” She asked, looking around the room eagerly.

“Can I go, Pen?” JJ asked, walking up to the hat.

“Why of course my dear,” Penelope said, dropping into a bow but making sure none of the names spilled out.

This went on for ten minutes until everyone had someone picked out. Penelope then took the last name out of the hat for herself before snugly fitting the hat back onto her head.

Spencer looked at the slip of paper he had gotten, and in all caps was the name Derek . He reminded himself that there was a 1 in 7 chance. A one in SEVEN chance. Maybe the universe just hated him, he mused to himself, trying to keep a poker face while slipping the paper into his pocket. He would tell Penelope about this later, because even though they were supposed to keep it a secret, she would want to know about this.

Derek did the same as everyone and glanced at his small slip of paper but did a double take when he saw the name scrawled on the parchment. Spencer Reid, was all it said in black ink. Great, of course he got his best friend, whom of which he was inconveniently in love with at the moment. He tried to keep his facial expression neutral, as there was a team full of profilers watching and if he even showed the slightest amount of emotion right now, it might give away who he had drawn.

“Now as per the rules of our lovely unit chief, no gifts above $20, and no telling who you got, as it would ruin the game. We will exchange gifts on the 24th and our lovely Rossi has agreed to let us use his home for the gift exchange.” Penelope described the rules, gesturing over to Rossi.

“Not home, mansion” He corrected, smiling.

A few days later, after agonizing over whether or not he should tell Penelope about his crush on Spencer, Derek texts Penelope. Everyone is asleep on the jet home except for Spencer and him. Spencer is reading a book at a million miles an hour, and Derek is on his phone. However every few seconds in between texts he would look up at the doctor, who always looked so peaceful and serene while reading.

New iMessage from: Garcia

You’re kidding me.

Derek smiled at his phone and typed,

No, I’m not. And I got him for secret santa too. I am so fucked, aren’t I?

He finished typing and set his phone on his lap, glancing at Spencer again while waiting for a response. Well, he thought, less of a glance, more of a stare. He zoned out looking at the younger man, memorizing the way his hands ran over the page. Suddenly the doctor looked up, and they looked in the eyes for a moment before they both quickly looked away. He felt a buzz on his chest and feeling grateful to have an excuse to look at something other than him, continued his conversation with Penelope.

Garcia: First of all you weren’t supposed to tell me the secret santa thing, second of all, I can feel you staring at him from here. You are so in love it makes me sick.

Penelope rummaged around her office in Quantico, cleaning up before the team arrived and they all got to go home. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and took it out, Morgan again.

Derek: I know, but I had to tell somebody because I’m going crazy over it. I don’t know what to get him. He deserves something better than some random book.

Garcia: My sweet, I promise you he will love anything you get him.

Derek: You sure?

Garcia: I am sure.

Garcia: And if you don’t go to sleep right now Derek Morgan I will strangle you when you get back.

Derek: Fine fine, we’ll be back in an hour. You should get some rest too, go home.

Garcia: Like hell I’m leaving before you all get back here safely. I’ll wait.

They landed in Quantico about an hour later, and as promised, Derek was asleep for about 30 minutes when the jet landed and jolted everyone awake. They all walked back into the building together, tired as all hell even though most of them got sleep on the plane.

“Hey, kid,” Derek said, walking with Spencer to his desk. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Nope,” Spencer said, packing up his things, avoiding looking Derek in the eye.

“Are you alright?” Derek asked, and Spencer froze in his tracks. There were a million things he could’ve said at that moment, but he just continued packing his things after a muttered ‘yea,’. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Derek asked, but Spencer just started thinking about how no, actually he could not talk to him because talking to him about the particular thing he was feeling at the moment would ruin their friendship and Spencer didn’t know if he could take any heartbreak at the moment considering he was tired and about to break down into tears.

“Please, just go to your office, Morgan. I don’t want to talk.” Was all he said, and as Derek walked away a single tear slipped down Spencer’s cheek, which he aggressively rubbed away. The rest of the team was either too busy wrapping up or too tired to notice the distress Spencer was in at the moment.

Derek walked to his office, trying not to burst into tears. When he closed his door he immediately started crying, though. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He hated seeing Spencer in danger, which is exactly where every case put him. And he was always so cold to him, like working with him now was a pain, a formality that must be gone through with. The glance on the plane was a spark of hope before, that maybe Spencer felt the same way, but it was put out by the way he acted earlier. He didn’t know anymore.

He knocked on Penelope’s door, hoping that the technical analyst hadn’t gone home yet. And she hadn't; she was sitting in her chair, knitting when Derek came in. She jumped up, giving him a kiss on the cheek when he arrived.

“God I am so happy to see that you are safe and well and a million other good things.”

“Actually, safe and well might be the only two good things I feel at the moment, Pen.”

“Alright, talk to me. What happened.” She said, moving her way over to sit down with Derek, rubbing his back.

“I don’t know. There was a moment, on the plane, while I was texting you that I thought maybe, maybe he felt the same way but when we got back he was so cold. It was like he was trying to distance himself from me in every way.”

“Ok, well you’re the profiler. Tell me exactly what he said.”

“Babygirl I don’t remember-”

“I think you do.” Penelope said, crossing her arms at him.

“I do. He said, ‘Please, just go to your office, Morgan. I don’t want to talk.’ He sounded sad, and he said please, which means he was probably expecting me to stay.” Derek had a moment of realization before putting his head in his hands. “I should’ve stayed, oh my god I should have-”

“Hey, hey there is nothing you can do now. Deep breaths. And you’re right. Those sound like the words of someone who is trying to push you away for their own good. And I’ve heard them before,” She said, punching Derek softly in the shoulder. “I don’t think he wants you to leave, Der. I think he just needs some time to figure out himself, first.”

“Do you think he likes me?”

“I can’t say for sure,” (She definitely could) “But I’d say he does.”

“About the secret santa,”

“Hun, I don’t care that you told me.”

“No, not that. What should I get him?”

“I already told you. He would love a ‘random book’” She did air quotes around what Derek had said over text earlier. “But you should make it special, write a note inside or something.”

“You know what…” Derek started, getting an idea. “I think I will.”

“Great, glad I could be of help. Now if you will excuse me, I have to be back here in 6 hours now, and I would like to go home for at least 4 of those.

“Well don’t let me get in the way.” Derek said, smiling at her and backing out of the office.

Spencer spent the rest of that night overthinking, trying to sleep but only falling unconscious for 3 hours before his blaring alarm woke him up. Did I push him away? He thought to himself, lying awake.

Spencer texted Penelope on his way into work, and even though he wasn’t much of a texting person, he didn’t have the time to make a call right now. All his text said was: I really messed up this time, Garcia. She replied as he was walking into the office, What did you do? Although Penelope, of course, had some inkling of what the young doctor was talking about. They had a few minutes before work officially started for the day, and Hotch hadn’t given them a case yet so he strode directly to Penelope’s office, not bothering to set down anything.

Spencer knocked on the door before coming in, and closed the door before sitting down.

“Alright, so spill.” She said, crossing her legs. Her office was becoming less and less of a technical analysis space and more of a therapist’s couch.

“I pushed him away. I was tired and angry and I pushed him away.”

“Slow down, slow down. I’m sure he didn’t take it that way, all of you were feeling that way last night.”

“No but he seemed angry with me too and I-”

“I can promise you. He probably was angry at first and regretted it, and now he’s thinking the same thing you are. Make an effort today to reach out to him, you’ll be surprised.”

“You sound like JJ reading my horoscope.”

“Maybe I can just see into the future.”

“Yeah right, and anyways that isn’t the end of it. I know I’m not supposed to tell you but I got Derek for the secret santa thing.” Spencer sighed into this coffee that was pressed against his lips, and after taking a sip, said, “I’m starting to really hate you for putting this together, because I have no idea what to give him.”

“Maybe get him something he likes,”

“Yeah, but what does he even like? Music?” Spencer asked, setting his coffee cup on the table beside him. “But I don’t even know what or who he listens to. All I know is he likes music and I feel like I don’t know anything about him right now.”

“Football. He likes football.” Garcia said, also trying to think of things her best friend would enjoy as a present.

“Ok that’s a start, what about football is there…”

“No, no scratch that. Do you know how to make a mix of music on a CD?”

“Garcia, you know I can barely work a printer.”

“I’ll help you. I made his playlist that he listens to on the jet so I know what he likes. All you have to do is give it to him.”

“Wow, thanks Penelope. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t. Say anything that is, just go catch a serial killer and I’ll have it ready by the end of the day.”

As promised, at the end of the day Spencer walked into Penelope’s office and she had a CD ready for him. It was a relatively short case, a local one that had the team home before 8pm. Everyone was in a good mood, but decided to go home early while they had the rare chance.

“Ok here it is, loverboy. Just so you know you can write on it with Sharpie and it won’t mess up the disc.” She winked and handed it to him, Spencer blushing and turning around to make sure no one was at the door.

“Thank you, Penelope. Really.”

“It’s nothing. Thank me when you finally confess your love to that himbo.”

“What’s a-”

“You know what, I’m not explaining that to you. Go home, try and go to sleep early tonight.” She said, pushing him out the door with his new CD. As the door closed in his face, Spencer started to say,

“Have a nice-” But it closed before he could say “-night.” He sighed and walked down the hall, carrying his CD and bag with him towards the elevator. He didn’t expect to see anyone else, but lo and behold Derek Morgan walking towards the elevator at the same time.

“Hey, Reid.” He said, stepping into the elevator with him.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, glancing everywhere but into Derek’s eyes. They were about level, height-wise, and this made it harder for Spencer to avoid his gaze, so he just stared down at the ground.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I just want to know why.” Spencer’s face heated up in shame, and he looked to Derek.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so cold lately. I’ve been having a hard time, but Garcia helped me realize I shouldn’t be shutting people like you who care about me out.”

“Garcia helped you realize-” Derek paused, thinking. “How long have you two been talking?” He asked, curious.

“Pretty much every day since September.”

“Ok ok, I see.” Spencer didn’t question the way Derek asked how long he’d been talking to Garcia, and switched the topic of conversation.

“Four days and counting until the Secret Santa party.” He said, glancing back at Derek.

“Yeah, you excited?”

“Mostly excited to see who mine is.” Spencer said, staring at the elevator doors, which had just opened. “Have a good night,” He said, walking out the doors of the building, rushing towards his car.

“Yeah, you too.” He said, but Derek knew that Spencer was long gone by now. Derek left the building and walked towards his car, starting it and leaving the parking lot as quick as he got here this morning.

The day of the Secret Santa party, Hotch had one case for them. When they got to the round table, everyone was pretty disappointed, because cases often meant that they came back late and in a bad mood. But it turned out that this one was just an hours drive away, and even quicker on the jet, so everyone hopped in, hoping that this wouldn’t take long.

The case only ended up lasting the day, as the killer was sloppy and left behind an extensive trial. The BAU team boarded the jet wondering why they were even called in to help in the first place.

“Hey, at least this means you all can still come over tonight.” Rossi said positively.

“Yeah, everyone’s coming, right?” JJ said, scanning the plane, but no one spoke up. Just nods of heads to confirm that they were all going.

They all took their seperate cars to Rossi’s, with Emily riding with JJ because she left her car at her apartment and took the subway.

When Spencer got there, the house was lit up. Rossi and Hotch had been the first ones to arrive, and shortly after Spencer the rest came filing in the door, joking and laughing with everyone. Spencer caught sight of everyone holding their gifts, wondering which bag or wrapped box was for him. Penelope was the last to come in, taking off her shoes at the door like everyone else and smiling at him with a wrapped present.

“Not for you,” She said, seeing the look on his face “That comes later.”

They all ate good food and talked and drank wine that night, and everything seemed perfect for that moment in time.

“Ok, ok. It is time for the event that we all came here for to take place!” Penelope said, a little wine drunk, standing up and grabbing her present. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, everyone stand up and go find whoever you were assigned. That’s it, good luck.”

They all rose from their seats to go find their assigned person. Spencer just silently waited. He knew he had Morgan, but he wanted to receive his present first and then find Derek because he was a little more… personal, and he didn’t want anyone getting in the way. Just then Derek made his way to him . No, no way is this happening, he thought, terrified and excited at the same time.

“Spencer Reid,” He said, handing the doctor a poorly wrapped present “I believe this is for you.”

“Oh my god,” Reid said, eyes darting between the present and Morgan.

“What?” Derek asked, visibly confused.

“Here. You were who I was assigned.” Spencer said bluntly, shoving the small present towards him.

“What are the odds,” Derek said, and then added as Spencer opened his mouth “please do not actually tell me the odds,” and they both laughed, unwrapping their gifts to each other. Spencer, since he got his gift first, unwrapped it faster and found a book.

“Derek, I love this,” It was a book he had never read before, and from the many books Spencer Reid had read, there weren’t a lot of those left. “Thank you.” He said, looking at him. He thumbed through the pages as the scent of the new book filled the air around them.

“Look at the inside cover.” Derek said, with a hint of shakiness in his voice.

“Only if you look at the CD.” Derek was holding the case in his hands, not taking the disc out itself yet. He was going to listen to it on the car ride home, he had told himself.

“Ok,” Derek wondered what was written on the CD. Probably just a funny playlist name or some fun fact about music, he thought dismissively. At the same time he pulled the disc gently from it’s casing, Spencer opened the cover to the book. In Spencer’s scrawled handwriting, Derek made out the words ‘I love you.’ written in black sharpie on the disc. As Spencer opened the book, he found Derek’s bold lettering on the cover page, saying ‘I love you.’

At the same time, they both looked at each other and came to a realization that this was not platonic. This wasn’t the way friends said they loved each other. And they both realized that the other felt the same way that they had been feeling for months.

“I love you too,” They both said at the same time, both letting out a laugh and realizing what happened.

“My place after this?” Derek asked under his breath.

“Most definitely.” Spencer replied, leaving Derek with a kiss on the cheek to go talk to Penelope.

#moreid #moreid fic #i love them!!#fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #derek morgan #tooth rotting fluff.#fluff #light angst

16 notes · View notes