#also is this just me shoving fact that I have said things with lmk? yes. yes it is. thats another reason I made this post KAJSJS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostgreekgod · 3 years

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a/n: yes. i did not know what to call this. sorry. also sorry for the slow-fast-slow-slow-really fast thing ? its how I felt, reading it. but tbh I didn't proof read as much. so plot holes, gigantic plot holes.

pairing: loki x f!reader; enemies to lovers.

request:

word count: 5936

warnings: um i think theres like hints of suicide mentions. death. oh also depression metions. lmk if you find anything else

a/a/n: my 2nd request! anon didnt give me a pronoun preference, so i did a f!reader. hope i did you justice with the story, anon.

oh another a/n bc i cant stop talking: i had to write the beginning about 3 times. I like slow development, and a one shot with enemies to lovers AND a kiss seemed rlly hard to write, but nevertheless. also omg the amount of research I did for this.

taglist: @theaudacitytowrite @gaitwae lmk if u want to be added!

2 months. That’s how long y/n had been holed up in the Avenger’s towers. Sure, she appreciated the amenities and the other various provisions, but she had to leave. She was sick and tired of “playing a part to help”. That’s what the doctor—Baron Strucker—told her before she was ruthlessly experimented on, and that’s what SHIELD told her when she was rescued. Of course, at one point in her life, she had thought of doing something for the world, but now? All she wanted now was some peace. She simply wanted to resign into the flow of life and its rigorous cycles of life and death, go wherever fate led her. Oh, what she would do for a little cabin in the woods—she would go berry picking every day with a little golden dog that she would love more than life. She would enjoy the solace, her mind thrumming with happiness as she took in the simplest worldly pleasures. But instead, she was stuck here, “training” so she could “save the world”. She wished she could simply tuck her abilities away, pretend they never existed.

‘You have the ability to manipulate binding energy,’ they had said to her. Apparently, she could alter the structural—sometimes molecular constitution of any object or substance in her vicinity. Her younger self would cherish her powers, but right now, y/n would do anything to live a normal life. Just when she thought her life couldn’t be worse, she was ordered to train with a said god to enhance her deranged abilities. Loki—the God of Lies and Mischief—also possessed a set of powers, rather on similar lines as hers. Except, he could manipulate his surroundings and create new things to suit his needs, while y/n’s abilities were all about destruction. She could tear anything—anything apart, regardless of how tight its atomic constituent was. It certainly scared her, the fact that she had still not managed to get her powers to work at her will, but almost everyone assured her that she would soon. Except Loki. He told her that she would never be able to wield her abilities to their full extent, that she would never be a hero. Surprisingly, she agreed. She was too unstable to control them, she had felt it. Every time she tried summoning her powers, nothing would happen. Not even when she stretched her arms out and everything. But oh, when she got mad, boom! Everything around her would literally explode! She had seen the look in people’s eyes when she caused something like that. Monster, they would say. No matter how unintentional it was, she still had those memories ingrained in her mind; after all, they visited her every night in her nightmares.

“Get away from me!” the woman yelled with her child limp in her arms, tears streaming down her face. Her lip wobbled as she tried to contain what was left of her sanity.

“I’m only trying to help- “ y/n stammered, her hands shaking. What had she done?

“He is dead, because of you. You are done trying to help. Get away from me, you monster!” the woman yelled, shoving at her—and that’s when all of y/n’s bodily functions stopped, her heart running cold. She was a monster.

She sighed loudly. Every other day, she would wake up breathing so heavily, FRIDAY would ask her if she needed a doctor. Her skin would be coated with sweat; it would drip down her chin when she sat up. Her heart would beat so hard against her ribs, almost as if it would tear off and run away screaming. But not for long, she would promise herself. No one would get hurt at her expense. She needed the perfect plan to escape the Avengers—she was smart enough to know that if she was caught, she wouldn’t be given the same liberty she had now. There would always be eyes on her, and she would never be able to leave. They’d probably put a camera in her room, even perhaps put a transmitter in her skin, and that was something she was wholly against.

“Knock-knock, time for training!” Steve’s cheery voice rang outside y/n’s door.

Mustering the best happy voice possible, she called back, “Be right there!” Sighing, she shifted out of her sheets and headed for the shower. She had a long day before she could commit to her planning.

Loki warmed up in the empty room. Or he tried to. He was mostly just flipping his dagger in his hand, his chest jittering in nervousness, but his face always the cold neutral mask. He was supposed to train y/n every day, and it was getting on his last nerve. Sure, the Midgardian was very much gifted, but he was much worried for her. Not to mention the things he seemed to be… feeling for her. He told himself it was only because she was a lot like him. She simply needed a mentor. So why couldn’t he be what she needed? He could see how hard she struggled to control the energy within her, he could see how she was in need of desperate help. Yet, he was harsher with her than he was with the other heroes, never missing an opportunity to wound her verbally. She needed to stay away from him, and since Rogers wouldn’t honor his wishes about not wanting to be y/n’s instructor, the only way for him to make sure he wouldn’t have to spend any longer with her was to have her despise him so much, that she asked Steve to stop her training with him. She was a new addition to the group, so most obviously the soldier would make sure that she got whatever she needed like the honorable, benevolent captain he was. But what surprised him was how y/n seemed to agree with every insult he shot at her. He would call her worthless, and she wouldn’t even blink an eye at him. He would tell her that she was insignificant, that she was simply dead weight to the Avengers, and she would simply gesture at him to continue with the training and hurry back to the sanctity of the room the moment they were done for the day. Most obviously, he could see that she was planning something, but what?

y/n channeled another wave of white energy through her fingers towards him, screaming. But all her effort couldn’t even shake the god from his stance. She inhaled again, charging at him. Combat, he had said to her. Today, she was working on implementing the energy around her in combat, and she was not doing well. She threw a weakly made fist at him, him easily dodging. She turned around, stretching her leg in the air, a kick aimed for the face. He gripped her calf as she laid one hand on his chest. Just when he thought it was over, she channeled a small burst of energy at him, causing him to stumble back, pulling her with him. She fell against him onto the floor, her face inches away from his. She stared into his green, green eyes—they were like little droplets of rainwater. Not entirely blue, but not exactly colorless either. Just pale, almost transparent, with the littlest specks of green and gray. It looked like the sky, just before it would begin to snow. Shivers ran up her spine, she could feel the chill of the crisp color. It reminded her of a gentle breeze before an obvious storm. Subconsciously, she leaned towards him, before Loki pushed her off of him, bringing her back to her senses. His heart thundered in his chest. She had almost kissed him, and he would have let her. He had to end this. Now.

“And what in Midgard was that?” Loki’s steely voice came a few seconds later. Y/n said nothing. She simply lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling. She wasn’t one to explain her internal torment, especially not to someone who seemed to hate her so much. She shut her eyes, regretting letting her guard down. He looked at her with no expression on his face, except a slight scorn adorning his lips—she thought it was because of how sweaty she looked with her clothes drenched and her lungs screaming for oxygen. Oh, what she would do if she had known otherwise.

“I asked you a question.” His voice came again, baritone as ever. Y/n ran that voice over in her head. That sweet, euphonious voice that coated his words like icing on a cake. But the angelic voice he had just never suited the tone in which he spoke with her. She wondered how he would sound when he spoke to a lover. She thought of sweet whispers of secret love, his cool, calm voice, and shuddered. Perhaps in another life, she would have done something for the attraction she felt towards him. Perhaps if she were a different person, someone stronger, smarter, someone without as many problems, she would honor the urge she felt in her mind every time her eyes landed on him. It angered her how HYDRA had stolen her life from her in just a short amount of time, her last moments of leading a normal, content life snatched away from her like taking candy from a baby.

Loki watched her as she struggled to channel her energy towards the target. She was distracted, and it was not because of their “moment” earlier. Every time she readied herself to harness the energy around her, a wisp of a look would pass her eyes and she would falter. He wondered what caused that.

“Get up, mortal. I do not have all day.”

y/n was done. She couldn’t do anything more for the day. The boy’s face engulfed her mind, the cries of his mother filling her ears. What was she thinking? She did not deserve love. Not after what she did. She was only trying to help.

“Now!” Loki ordered, his foot slightly kicking hers in an attempt to bring her back from wherever her mind had drifted. He saw how her eyes became glassy-- as if she was indulging in an old memory. Almost as if it pained her to witness the same repeatedly. He tried calming his feral heart. He wondered when his mind had given up on all reasoning, letting him feel the wrath of his little pumping organ.

Now, her anger was directed towards him. Who was he to tell her what to do? She didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders, much less his. She was the only one who trained day and night, and at what expense? Loki’s amusement? No thanks.

“No.” she deadpanned; her eyes still focused on the ceiling.

“I beg your pardon?” he sputtered at her incredulous response.

Meeting his eyes with her still glassy ones, she repeated. “I said no.”

Loki stared at her for a moment. The Midgardian had just defied his direct order. She surely was something else. He studied her eyes, how the e/c irises seemed almost devoid of any life. His heart yearned to comfort her, betraying his quiet mind with its stranger intentions.

Shaking his head, he said again, “I will have to report you, then.”

“Go ahead.” Anyone was smart enough to know that was the last thing Loki would do. He wasn’t one to approach the Captain, especially not for such insolent matters. What was y/n playing at?

“Do you really take me for a fool? When I ask you to get up, you do as I say. Or did you forget I am your instructor?” he said, his voice edging with a warning. Y/n was now getting on his last nerve.

She stared at him, her eyes never leaving his. She wasn’t going to do it. No one orders her around; she was now a free individual. Isn’t that what SHIELD told her when she was rescued? She could do as she liked, unlike how it was when she was being… experimented on.

“I’m not doing it. I told you I was done for the day. I am going to leave,” she said, getting up from her place on the floor. Loki watched her, still bewildered. He had thought a lot of things about her, but he never thought she would be so bold. Who was she? How would she have been, if she wasn’t made to endure the torture that she had? Would she be happy, smile that brilliant smile? Would her eyes radiate the joy that he had seen only in her older pictures? When she was wild and full of life, when she was free?

He whipped his hand around, green strands of seidr erupting from his fingertips, and y/n was back in front of him again, instead of at the door. He wouldn’t let this happen again. This was the end of his time with y/n. He had to get a grip over his foolish heart.

“Hey!” she yelled, her hands clenching. She could feel the anger surge deep in her. Could he not let her be? She wanted to be alone after the embarrassment she had caused herself. Oh, how she regretted it.

Loki couldn’t help the little smirk on his face. He watched as she took a deep breath and glared at him before turning to leave again. He snapped his fingers, and there she was again, in front of him, ugly anger simmering in the pit of her stomach.

“You are no match for me, and you never will be. So you might as well treat me with some respect,” he spat, his heart stuttering for a moment in response to his harshness. But he might as well do it. He couldn’t train with her, not if he was going to have confused “feelings” festering in his heart. He had to make sure she went to Steve asking for a change of training instructors, it was for the best.

Breathing again, y/n tried to keep the anger down. She knew what happened the last time she had felt such anger. Monster.

“Let me go,” she spat, her eyes sharp.

“Worthless. That’s what you are,” he teased, his heart still thumping hard against his ribcage. It seemed to tell him, don’t do it! don’t! But when had he ever listened to his heart? Especially when it was being so unreasonable?

“We already established that. Let me leave,” she said, her breathing shallow. “Please,” she added a second later. She had to regain control of the energy festering in her core. No, no, no, her conscious chanted.

“You can’t be an Avenger with just powers, y/l/n. You need skill.” He said, his voice laced with venom his heart didn’t intend for.

y/n studied his eyes, wondering where he was going with this. Surely, he couldn’t know of her countless mess-ups…

Finish it! His mind yelled at him.

“You couldn’t even save him,” he whispered, never leaving her eyes. Of course. Of course, he had read her file. Why wouldn’t he have? Her killing someone was no news in a tower full of heroes. After all, accidents were what made the best of them. He watched as her eyes widened and her lip quivered, before her irises narrowed into slits, and gritted her teeth. And that was when all hell broke loose.

“You have no idea what I’ve been through.” She whispered, her voice colder than ice. A shiver ran up his spine. A moment ago, she was so close to breaking apart, but now she looked like a statue set in stone, her teeth baring out, snarling at him.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Crack, went his heart. He sighed internally as he braced himself.

“It’s pathetic. You are pathetic.” He managed to breathe out before he was thrown back into the walls, the steel around him suddenly shattering, exploding everywhere. He summoned his daggers in a flash, only to land his eyes on a now levitating y/n, her body suspended in mid-air as she glared at him with completely white eyes, glowing like the morning light. Her hands were now fists at her sides, sheer power radiating around them. Wisps of white strands of energy looped around her figure, making her look almost ethereal. Her hair floated around her as if they were disturbed by a slight breeze. Electric. That was what she was.

y/n didn’t know what happened. One moment she was in pieces, her heart about to shatter at his accusation, and the next moment she was suspended in air, feeling such power in her bones, as if she could do anything.

“I am not pathetic.” She said, her voice sweet as honey. She scrunched her eyebrows. That was not what she sounded like. It was almost as if the energy around her caused the sound to resonate, her voice reverberating against itself, causing multiple tones. Either way, it was all so beautiful, even Loki was mesmerized for a second.

y/n looked down at her hands, the white energy swimming between her fingertips, ready to strike. Monster, she remembered. This is what had happened before the boy had died. Before she had killed him. She simply reached out to him, and she had somehow sucked the energy out of him. She hadn’t told anyone how she felt at that moment. She felt power. True, raw power, almost as if the boy’s energy had transferred into her. It destroyed her how she could feel such ecstasy at the price of one’s life. It disgusted her. He’s right. You are worthless. A monster. You deserve to rot.

She fell to her knees, all that power quickly dissipating with a metallic thrum, leaving a smell of electricity in the air, like something had been singed. She held her hands to her heart, wishing she could rip it out. Could she, perchance? With tears streaming down her face, she met a fascinated Loki’s eyes. It was almost as if he was excited. Like HYDRA was, when they first witnessed their superweapon in action. She scrunched her eyebrows, her voice laced with venom, “I hate you.” Pushing herself up, she ran. She didn’t know where she wanted to go, she simply ran. Hands pumping beside her, her legs weeping under the stress of the running. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t. After all, she didn’t deserve it. She let the pain seep into her muscles, her tendons screaming at the lack of aeration. She sobbed again; the ball of pain still lodged in her throat. She turned back to the Avenger’s tower. She was leaving tonight.

----

She shoved some clothes in a duffel, her carefully curated plan of many months forgotten. It had been too long, too long of spending a comfortable time in the tower, getting everything she needed. She didn’t deserve any of it, not after what she had done.

Sniffing, she wiped at the tears on her cheeks haphazardly. She put on a plain black shirt with grey jeans and combat boots and walked out of her room. She would run far, far away where she could hurt no one and keep her abilities tucked away for good. She made her way to the kitchen, deciding to sneak through the back doors of the cafeteria. The cameras wouldn’t be operative in those sectors, she would be able to make it out of the compound rather easily. Pushing the door open, she made sure not to make any noise. Just because the cameras weren’t functioning, she couldn’t afford to be calm. She had to be faster in getting out. Hugging the wall, she shifted her way into the kitchen, her eyes scanning for any heroes nearby. She could hear Thor’s snores coming from a nearby room. She turned towards the center table, and her heart leaped as she instinctively ducked. Loki. Of all days, the insomniac had chosen this day to stay up and read late in the night. He hummed a little tune as he prepared his tea. Little did y/n know that one of the reasons he couldn’t sleep that night was because of her. He simply couldn’t get over how he had hurt her. His heart convulsed whenever he saw the image of her tear-streaked face, her eyes focused on the energy radiating off her hands like she had seen something terrible. A monster. He wished he had picked something else to drive her mad over. He turned around to fetch himself his favorite honey and lemon tea bag, his eyes catching some quick movement. A little more assessment revealed to him that it was none other than y/n. He stayed calm, minding his own business. Why was she here? Maybe she needed a midnight snack? He had sometimes heard her screaming in her room, possibly from nightmares, did she have another one now? But why was she hiding from him?

y/n shifted behind the wall again. She was certain he had seen her, the little shift in his demeanor—the sudden stiffness of his body being on alert gave his neutral face away. She stepped away from the wall. She would have to fight her way through. Loki had seen her at her peak, and not to mention how he too once wanted nothing to do with the Avengers, so perhaps he would be more thoughtful and simply let her go.

“Hello, y/n,” Loki said, without looking up from his cup. Perhaps this was a confrontation? y/n had never once lost her cool in front of him, not even when he degraded her with the vilest of insults. Maybe she wanted him to apologize? Stop thinking, he chided at himself. She hasn’t even said anything yet.

He finally glanced at her, only to freeze. She looked like she was up and ready to go, hair away from her face, comfortable clothes, and… a bag. Not any bag. A duffel bag. Her eyes were puffy, her nose red—like she had been crying. She never cried. This only meant one thing. She was running away.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft, his mind cautious of her movements. If she was planning on sneaking away, he was an obstacle she had come across at the last minute. A hurdle she would have to cross.

y/n stared at him for a moment. Would he let her go? “Leaving.” She said, her voice as soft as his. Maybe a display of some emotion would help her.

Loki waited for a beat. “Why?” he questioned.

y/n felt her anger simmer again. Why was she always being interviewed, all her actions always questioned? It was like she was back at HYDRA, always being told what to do, never being able to do what she wanted without begging for permission. Nothing was different from HYDRA and the Avengers headquarters, except for the fact that the Avengers provided some twisted sort of so-called freedom. She was going to be made to hurt people if her energy was continued to be harnessed. But she wouldn’t allow that. Not again.

“Because.” She wondered what to say. She could have threatened him, but that would only make him warier of her. But with being calm, if all goes down, she would still have an advantage over him, and might just be able to make a narrow escape.

“Because…” Loki said, motioning at her to continue. It irritated him how he could still have feelings festering for her when she could annoy him easily by simply wasting words.

Y/n sighed through her nose. Perhaps she would have to threaten him. “As much as I loved our training,” she scoffed, “I believe it's time for me to leave. I do not belong here.”

What was she saying? Of course, she belonged here, it was him who didn’t belong. She was so powerful, and no matter how much she tried to deny it, she had a kind heart. He had seen how she smiled at little moments subconsciously—he was there when she had petted a little stray puppy, assuming that no one was looking. But he watched. He watched as she smiled sadly, her eyes betraying her strong poise. She giggled lightly as the pup tried to lick her face, her hands reaching out to scratch its fur. He smiled, his heart wishing her life had a better story to live.

“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning,” he breathed, his eyes never leaving hers. He noticed how they flickered down to the ground for a moment, before returning to connect with his, a new fire lighting them up.

You’re a monster! Get away! y/n could hear the woman screaming at her. She would fight Loki and leave, or she would die trying to get past him. Either was fine, as long as she would never, ever have to use her cursed abilities again.

“Because I want to. And you cannot stop me,” she whispered, her voice hinting at the tiniest of a threat. Please, she wanted to add.

“I’m afraid I cannot do so.” He whispered sternly, setting his cup down. He had caught the threat in her voice. He only wanted her to be away from him, but he seemed to have taken it too far. She was going to leave, and his heart wouldn’t let that happen. How would she fend for herself? She wasn’t even stable. What if another accident took place, and this time she was in the center of it? she could barely deal with the death of the little boy, how would she deal with herself if her abilities had gotten the best of her again? It would destroy her, entirely, and his stubborn heart wouldn’t let that happen to her, not when he knew he could have done something to prevent it.

y/n’s heart thumped loudly. Would she be able to fight her way past Loki? Her energy was stronger, but his seidr was quicker. Sneakier. “Suit yourself,” she whispered back, before taking a step towards him. Her eyes began to glow white, a brilliant light that could magic anyone, as her hands summoned power. Ringlets of white swam around her like wisps of smoke. One last time, she told herself. One last time, and she wouldn’t ever have to use her abilities again. Not that she was any good anyway. Loki breathed through his nose, trying to calm his speeding heart. He could never get over how beautiful her form was.

“Move,” she said, her voice echoing, ricocheting against itself. Beauty. Beauty that a monster like her didn’t deserve. It couldn’t hurt to try for a last compromise before forcing her way out.

Loki huffed. He didn’t realize y/n would put use of her gifts. It mildly surprised him, that she would summon her energy to get past him. Countless times where she could have used her abilities for little things like he did, she never did. That hesitation he usually saw in her eyes, that quiver in her lips, the slight shaking of her fingers—he could see none of them. It was as if that one barricade that usually disabled her from ensuring basic jurisdiction over her abilities now fuelled her desire to escape. He summoned his seidr, green fibers of satin-like seidr erupting from his fingertips. He wouldn’t hurt her. Never.

y/n clenched her hands into fists, feeling the energy fighting to leave her. She was simply a mediator; she couldn’t create energy. She simply took the energy from one place and deposited it in another. Shutting her eyes, she felt it swirl in her gut, hissing and crackling like electricity. One last time. Never again. Breathing out slowly, she kept her hands outstretched and opened her palms, letting the energy leave her through her fingertips. It felt like hours, this little action of hers, but little did she know this took a mere few nanoseconds.

One moment Loki had summoned his seidr, the green filaments tickling the insides of his fingertips; and the next, he was thrown across the kitchen, his vision blurring. How had she suddenly acquired the capability of harnessing such energy? He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. Where were the rest of the Avengers? Surely, they would have heard the commotion by now? Wanda and Pietro were y/n’s only friends, they would definitely be able to calm her, so where were they? He held his hands to his chest, his mind still dazed from the impact. He laughed internally. How long had it been since he had taken a hit so hard? He scanned the room, noticing the shimmer of her power around it. She had created some sort of force field that kept all activity of her abilities inside it, like a containment—preventing an accidental explosion. Clever. Perhaps the field contained sound too, which was probably why the others weren’t alerted.

y/n wanted to scream. Just one little energy blast. That was all it took her to veritably destroy a god. She had brought a god down to his knees in just a few seconds, and power still surged within her bones. She truly was a monster. She shut her eyes, slowly letting the energy dissipate from her body. Sure, the force field would have prevented a mishap, but she wouldn’t have it. This was the last time she would use her “gift”, and she would control it entirely, not the other way round. She met Loki’s eye’s once more, his green pale eyes—and wished things would have been different for the umpteenth time. Little did she know, he wished for the same thing.

Loki’s chest felt heavy, like he carried a huge anchor on his back. What had he done? He couldn’t lose her—he had to fix his mess. He teleported himself in front of her, blocking the exit. He wasn’t strong enough to stop her, but he knew what to do this time.

y/n gasped. She walked right into Loki, he had teleported himself in front of her and she had reacted too slowly. His hands help her by her shoulders, warmth radiating off of his palms. She could feel it through the thick material of her t-shirt.

“y/n,” he breathed. “You are making a mistake.”

Ignoring her thrashing heart, she managed to whisper, sarcasm edging into her voice. “Really?”

He shook her lightly. He wished he could take it all back. It was all his fault. He had destroyed what little resolve she had in her. He could see it in her e/c eyes. The lifelessness, the withering of her very soul.

“I was wrong. You are more than worthy. You did not deserve what HYDRA and Strucker did to you,” he said, his eyes searching hers. He wished he could tell her everything he felt, speaking in a language could never truly express what one felt in their heart.

y/n scoffed. Oh, how she wanted to believe him. “You are only saying these things to stop me from leaving. But here’s the thing. I have made my decision,” she said, her voice sullen, giving her away. Monster, monster, monster, you do not deserve to live, her mind chanted.

“I am not a hero,” she concluded, the lump in her throat choking her. “I have killed people. I am a monster.” And at that moment, it was as if a huge weight had released her, but her heart felt like it was hanging by a thread. Her revelation had caused her a short-termed relief, but by confessing her darkest secret, she had acknowledged its truth, and somehow it made everything worse.

“y/n,” Loki said again. Was he too late? Was she gone forever? “I may be the God of Lies, but right now, this very moment, I need you to trust me.” Leaning in towards her, he continued, his voice soft, like how y/n had imagined once too many times. “You are not a monster. When you know what you’ve done, when you regret your actions, you prove that you aren’t a monster. You prove to the world that you are as human as one could possibly be, you prove to yourself that you are deserving of forgiveness. It may take more time, even years, but you will learn to forgive yourself, you will learn to accept yourself as who you are. I am well aware that my previous actions have done nothing to help you, and I must admit that was awfully foolish and hasty on my part—courtesy of the little secret feelings I have recently begun to harbor for you,” he paused, running his tongue across his lower lip. He had just confessed his little secret. y/n looked at him with teary eyes, and at that moment he could see all the pain she felt, he could feel everything she felt. “I see you; I see myself in you—and you must believe me when I tell you that though you may never move on, you will grow from this. After all, is that not what truly matters?”

y/n wished he was lying to her. Sadly, he wasn’t—and she knew it. She wished she could see herself in a different light, a kinder one, and a little speck of hope blossomed in the darkest parts of her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she could grow. One day perhaps, her mind wouldn’t call her a monster, and she would have forgiven herself. Maybe she could let herself be happy. Ultimately, is that not what anyone wanted? To just be truly happy? To be able to live their life to the fullest, without any regrets, without their guilt consuming them every second of every day? To live a wholesome life, and to die a happy death?

Loki sensed the shift in the atmosphere, how she had loosened up slightly, her heart registering his words. He felt his heart lift up in newfound hope. He ran his thumb over her forehead, pushing back the little strands of hair before settling on her jaw; just like he had imagined doing countless times. The air suddenly smelled of promises, and a glimmer of sweet happiness. It was almost infective.

“Do you really mean it?” y/n asked him, her voice filled with hope, her heart beating like it suddenly had a reason to do so. Like it had discovered life again. That life was worth living.

Loki smiled, a little quirk of his lips, a little crinkle in the corner of his eyes. He glanced at her lips before closing the little distance between them. y/n relished the new surge she felt in her veins, like a thousand flowers blooming in a field. A few moments ago, she hated the feeling of power in her fibers, the dry swell of it simply causing her to hate on her existence; but now? Now she felt a new kind of swell, a relief. A relief, that could only be felt when there was hope. A brief sanguineness that could be achieved only when one believed in themselves. Suddenly, she looked forward to the future.

“Undoubtedly, my dear. I apologize with all my heart for the distress I have caused you these few days. I assure you that nothing will disrupt this little utopia that we have managed to find, ever again," he promised, his heart singing. He could work this out for her, and for himself. She deserved as much, and he was capable of giving her everything she need, and he would do so gladly. And she was kissing him again, his lips against hers, soft as feathers, as light as an angel’s caress. And she knew then. She knew she would forgive herself. After all, you only live one life.

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lovely-jily · 3 years

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potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

#jily #jily fic #james and lily #james potter and lily evans #james potter supremacy #james and lily potter #lily and james #lily evans and james potter

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knullanon · 3 years

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how the symbiotes stole you from one another #3

this took 5 hours in total yay

words: 4627

warnings: manipulation, kidnapping, dads being assholes, lmk if I missed any!

Routines in the area where Knull had dropped you off were almost nonexistent. The only reason why you woke up at all was because of the fact that it was already something you did before you got here.

Here, as in this place where Knull seemingly… owned? It was weird. He didn’t just own the land, either, he owned the symbiotes, and by that, Knull, whenever he wanted to talk to you, would just go inside one of their minds, take over, and talk to you. He had done this one multiple occasions, with him always being an asshole about everything. From trying to stop you from going outside, to bitching about your old life, and how you must be enjoying this one. It was really annoying to have to deal with him every damn day, and it was starting to become borderline creepy.

He wouldn’t care about your privacy, only how you were holding up. Literally nothing could stop him from entering your room. He removed the lock when you first got there, and then just left you. Nothing to do besides clean, fuck around, and be bored to death. The only thing you could really do otherwise bsides talk to that asshole, is just try and find something to look at.

So far, you’ve been able to tell that the previous owners of the land were evicted: probably by force by the numerous blood stains all over the place, hiding under whatever Knull didn’t want to clean. Another thing you noticed was that the area you were in used to be covered with trees, but they seemed to be all cut down recently. They smelt fresh and didn’t have any dirt or grime on the stumps. You had to assume it was a safety precaution. For him, at least.

It didn’t take long for you to start snooping around and finding different things, like a hidden diary, all written in russian, an old art kit, and a calendar dated to that year. These items, and their good conditions they were found in, only solidifies your theory that Knull just found a random property and killed the people living there. It also solidified the fact that Knull really didn’t know you existed until that night. Or, morning. Whatever time you were at the gas station. You were able to tell how long you had been taken. 2 weeks just tonight.

It was annoying the hell out of you how long staying with these assholes would seem. Two months with Eddie and venom, and then 3 months with carnage and cletus.

And now 2 weeks with this asshole, probably more. You really wanted out of this damn place. Actually, you wanted out of this weird game they had. Whoever got you first got to keep you until someone else came along. And tried to do the same thing.

As you grabbed some random clothes, and walked into the bathroom, you tried to remember before everything had happened. Before you decided to walk back home alone, like an idiot. That's what you were, wasn’t it? A fucking idiot for thinking it was a good idea. You really thought that nothing would happen, would it? And now this.

Shoving open the bathroom door, you almost didn’t see the 7 foot tall symbiote sitting in the chair across from the bed. This one was known for having a more emo look to them. With being dark blue and with little streaks of even darker red, they were always quiet and silent when you saw them. They were usually the ones to bring you food, guard the house you were in. They were also the one that Knull preferred to get into when he decided to speak to you.

The symbiote themselves were rumble, and he was… actually quite pleasant. It seemed Knull had let this batch keep their personalities, maybe at the price of kneeling before him. You didn’t know.

What you did know was that Knull was now controlling Rumble through whatever bullshit he did to be this powerful. Rumble, or, Knull technically, was reading an old newspaper dated a few months ago. It was from somewhere in Idaho, where you would assume you were located. Yes, Eddie lived in San Francisco, but when carnage took you wherever the hell he took you, and then Knull, well, it was confusing to say the least.

Anyways, the one good thing about Knull was that he really didn’t care what you thought of the place, as he said it, “a temporary arrangement on both our parties''. Pretentious bitch.

Knull put down the newspaper, and gave a smile, before gesturing with his arm to the bed you had just made. “Ah, _____, sit. Let's talk shall we?”

You didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him, but you followed his command anyway. You tossed your clothes into an old bucket that you had placed in the corner of the room and walked towards the bed, before sitting on it. Knull smiled again with that weird mouth. Rumble never smiled, so of course it would look weird when he did. Of course, not of his own will, but still.

“So, how have you been liking your new enclosure?” Did- Did he just-

You brushed it off, not wanting to anger him. “It’s… fine. Every home comes with its ups and downs.” you hoped he would get the message about calling a home an enclosure. It makes you feel like a pet rather than a person. If Knull noticed your wording, then he ignored it. Instead, he picked up the newspaper again, saying, “Good, good. I’m glad you could understand the circumstances of your predicament.”

You tried hard not to roll your eyes, remembering what Carnage or Venom would say- even now, if you had no idea where they were, their words and opinions still sat with you months later. Instead, you nodded your head to his words, and sat in silence waiting for him to say anything else. Knull did not say anything for a few minutes. Long, agonizing minutes. It reminded you of being with Eddie and Venom, those two assholes. When they were working, they required the utmost silence otherwise they couldn’t focus. They never got mad at you, but they would always try to put you up to something, like reading. Which is why you would read all their books on crime rates, detectives, natural disasters, anything to pass the time while they were working.

It got you entertained for the most part. Sitting in a room with nothing to do, for 2 months was more difficult than you ever thought it would be.

“Are you thinking of your previous hosts and their accommodations?”

Knull pulled you from your thoughts, and even though he was reading the newspaper, you were able to tell he wanted an answer. You shifted from your spot at the edge of the bed, before answering with, “U-Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Hmm.”

He continued to read for a moment, before he pulled the newspaper down a little to view you. “Are you not tired of them?”

“What do you mean?”

This time, he put the newspaper in his lap. “Venom and Eddie. Carnage and Cletus. How have they treated you in the few months you’ve known them?”

You had to sit there and think for a moment, wondering where this conversation was going. What was he trying to do this time?

“Well, venom and Eddie were… constricting. I never had anything to do. Besides reading the books on the shelf, but even then I had to do that discreetly. They didn’t like me doing those things. Or, rather, reading those things. They said it was too… graphic.”

“Ah, I see.” he acknowledged, picking up the newspaper again. “And Carnage and Cletus? How was their company?”

You really wanted to hide in a hole now. “They were… fine.”

“Were they, though?”

You wondered if it would just be worth it to tell everything: how you felt about Eddie, how you felt about Cletus, and how you felt about this asshole doing the same thing the rest of them had done.

“...No, they weren’t.”

He gave a small smile, before he asked, “Oh? Please do tell me more.”

You knew what he was doing, what he was playing at, and yet, you fell right for it. “They would tell me… they would say that no one was going to come for me. No one cared. Not my family, not Eddie, no one. Only them.”

He nodded along, and when he realized you were done venting, he said, “well, aren’t you glad that you’re with me now?”

Turning to face him, you gave him a glare. “Excuse me?”

“Think about it. With one of them, they gave you limited resources to entertain yourself, and the other made you feel like nothing. With me, I give you free reign to do whatever you please. You may ask for whatever you wish, visit whoever you choose, as long as you plead your loyalty to me.”

You stared at him, before you turned your back towards him, mumbling, “Liar.”

He chuckled, and you heard the newspaper crinkle. “I’m not making any jokes. Pledge our loyalty, and you will receive anything you would ever want.”

“Would that include being let go to see my family again?”

“Yes, actually. You would just have to come back when you were done with your visits.”

That caught your attention. He would let you go back? Really? He did say you would go back to him when you were done with your “visits”... but still, better than what the other two were offering.

You thought for a moment before the doubts started to kick in. How do we know he won’t betray you when you do pledge your loyalty to him? How do we know he won’t just keep you here forever? What ounce of trust should we put in him when everyone has kicked us when we were already down?

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, Knull said, “I will give you time for your answer. After all, I have years and years to spare.”

With that he folded the newspaper, setting it down gently, before you saw something spark in his eyes and Rumble returned to his own mind. He sat there unmoving for a few moments, before he sat up and looked at you. “I assume he just wanted to talk?”

You sighed, feeling tired only at 7 in the morning already. “Yes, Rumble, that’s all he came here for.”

He gave a hum of acknowledgment before he got up and walked to the exit to the room. Before he left, however, he said, “Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”

Before you could say anything, he left you to watch the door again, just before you could ask him to stop calling the home an enclosure, he shut the door softly. You were about to say something, but decided it was not worth it, so instead, you opted to just continue on with what you had to do throughout the day.

~~~~~~~~~

As Rumble looked on as you would clean and dry out clothes on line and leave them for the hot summer day to dry, hopefully by the end of the day, you had mumbled out when first getting out the big hamper. Next to it, you had a couple pieces of clothing sitting in another basket covered by water and soap. Currently, you were wringing out all of the water from a white top, trying to not stretch it out.

Rumble grumble out something, before he heard him in his head:

“Rumble, I would assume you would have the decency to not talk badly about my daughter behind her back.”

Rumble froze up before he quickly set his posture more straightened as he watched you put the shirt on the line, before going to grab another piece of clothing. “No, Lord Knull, I was just noting the… strange enclosure you had chosen for her.”

He heard Knull chuckle, before responding with, “Oh, Rumble, you should know my plan by now.”

Rumble sent a wave of confusion to Knull, indicating that no, he had no idea what his plan was.

Knull simply sighed, before he continued. “I have had plans to bring her to Klyntar, our homeworld, and yet, I have a feeling she will not be able to live there. For a while, I thought I would only be able to visit her through the symbiotes already on earth, or just get there myself, with obvious consequences. However, I’ve found a third option. There is a way to bring her here without having to worry for her safety.”

Suddenly, Rumble received a vision, or more specifically, a live feed of what Knull was looking at. It looked like a symbiote, and yet, it was… odd. It did not have a mind of its own, it's like it was waiting to be filled by something. And this one did not need a host, either. From Knull’s own memories, it seemed he created this one to rely solely on its own, however, for the need to do normal things, it needed someone to fill its mind. Rumble suddenly realized where this was going.

“Lord Knull, you aren’t saying-”

“Yes, I’m saying exactly what you are thinking of.”

Rumble saw Knull walk up to the symbiote, and stroke it with his claw. It did not respond. “This symbiote that I have created will need a mind, someone who has already been born, only their mind. I am planning on giving it to ______ and then letting her rest there, before taking away her body and giving her mind to.... Well, I have not named this one. Maybe I will name it… _______. After her.”

~~~~~~~

You laid the last shirt in the bucket, and when you tried to grab another and felt that there were no more, you sighed and grabbed the dirty water, and poured it out on the grass, not caring if the soap would kill the already dead plants. Then you put the hamper and the bucket on top of each other and carried it back into the house. When you reached the sink, you put the buckets in the sink and turned the tap: only for nothing to come out.

“Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”

Fucking hell. You got the hamper out and when you saw that it was relatively clean, you let it go, but the dirty water one…

Yeah, you had to clean this before the next laundry day.

It did not help that there were dishes that needed to be washed. You sighed and left the bucket on the counter, and you were about to walk back up to your room, when you had an idea. You walked outside and saw Rumble standing near a cut down tree, waiting for something. Walking up to him, you said, “Hey, Rumble, is there another water source around here?”

He gave you a look, before he said, “Yes, there is one, why must you use it? We will be moving next week to a new location.”

“Well, if it's gonna take a week, I hope you have some form of water to bring up here for the dishes, or showers, or clothes, or-”

“Alright, alright I get it.” he stalked over to you and looked towards another symbiote, probably trying to talk to them before the other symbiote simply nodded and walked to another part of the property.

“I will take you to a river, but after that, the others will gather the water for you, am I clear?”

You nodded. “Good, lets go.”

~~~~~~

Anti-venom stood at the clearing, looking at the decomposing bodies, just two women and two men. He could tell they had been there for more than a week, but not enough for them to completely decompose.

Anti-venom looked around before he tried to smell where they were from. Unfortunately, whoever dumped their bodies was smart in how they covered up the scent. There was almost nothing out here, and with the fact that someone covered up their scent made it more unnerving.

He didn’t try to think of how they died, only giving them his wishes before he started to walk away. Just a couple meters away was a little river that he knew expanded as you went up the stream. He walked over and saw nothing of old blood on the rocks, so they must’ve died somewhere else-

What was that?

He whirled his head towards the start of the river, upwards maybe by a few miles. Even out here, the stench of Knull and his underdogs were there. He growled, remembering how Knull used them for his own gain. He quickly theorized that for some reason, Knull was here and he had killed these people- but why? What would make him do this?

Anti-venom decided to find out on his own, as he started to sprint his way up the river.

~~~~~~

“Why did Lord Knull choose you, anyway?”

“Choose me as what?”

You were currently at the river, cleaning out the dishes in the bucket, and then rinsing them off. Rumble was nearby, sitting in his own little area, and he was also bored. He wanted to know things that Knull would not tell him: would not tell anyone, to be more precise.

You looked back at him, before you turned back to the dishes. “I don’t question it anymore. I never had a choice, I was just… chosen. It’s something I’ve had to get used to for the past months, and even now I don’t have anything to do, anything to say.”

Rumble quirked an eye. “But Lord Knull gave you a choice, did he not?”

“Oh, yeah, please tell me, what did he give me a choice on?”

“On being free to do as you please.”

You stopped washing the little plate you had, and you turned back to face him. “What?”

“He gave you a choice. You could swear loyalty to him, or-”

“Ok, enough with the loyalty bullshit, I’m tired of hearing it.” You had gone back to the dishes, scrubbing furiously at the plate. “I get it, it's a better option than Carnage or Venom, but could I at least have the option of never seeing you fucks ever again?”

Rumble did not say anything more, letting you get out your anger by scrubbing the dishes that were left, and tossing them into the bucket.

When you were finally done, you tried to pick up the bucket, but all of that scrubbing and cleaning made your arms sore. Rumble decided to restore his reputation with you by getting the bucket for you. You didn’t complain, as your arms were extremely sore from your anger washing.

The walk back to the property was peaceful. You weren’t angry at Rumble: to be honest, he was a sweetheart. He would help you out with so many things it was almost unbelievable. He was much more pleasant to be around than Knull, that was for sure.

Even if he had to call Knull “Lord Knull” each time you met, it was fine. The little trail that you two took was getting more smoother as you got closer and closer to the property. When you reached the clearing, you saw the normal sight:

5 symbiotes around the area stalking, waiting. They were most likely on guard, and even then, they had their eyes on you, making sure there was no funny business between you and Rumble.

Walking up to the one story house, you felt… wrong. Of course, this had always felt wrong, but this time it was like someone was watching you from afar. Before you got onto the porch, you turned to look at all the symbiotes watching you. Nothing unusual, the normal amount that would stand guard in this area. Maybe one of them is looking too long, you thought, as Rumble opened the door for you and you both went inside.

Unfortunately, no one noticed the speck of white in the bushes, hiding. Waiting.

~~~~~~~

It was almost time for you to start getting ready for bed. You already had dinner, and now all you needed was just a nice warm bed. You sighed as you made sure everything was in its place, before you walked back in the hallway and into your room. You got out your favorite pair of pajamas, and started to change. You already had a shower last night, it wouldn’t matter if you had one today.

As you changed, your mind went back to the conversation with Knull earlier that day. Would he really let you do whatever you wanted if you just… spared your loyalty, as he called it? Could you see your family and friends again? Could you tell them you were ok and not harmed?

But, he did say that you couldn’t stay there… you would have to go back with him… where did he live, anyway? He was an alien god, so… space? But… where?

Maybe he lived on some random planet and acquired a bunch of power, you had no idea-

“YOU WOULD ALL DARE TO HELP KNULL AND HIS PLANS?!”

That didn’t sound good. You rushed out of your room, pajamas halfway on, and peeked outside of the kitchen window, where you saw everything.

In the middle of the clearing, stood tall and bloody, was another symbiote. He was white with some black accents here and there, and most importantly, he was holding fire.

You already knew that symbiotes didn’t like heat, or fire. Especially not fire.

You remember one time when you tried to escape Eddie with fire. It did not work out well. You were locked in a closet, and fortunately for you, that was where you stored your books.

Anyways, you had no time to think of those times, when you were running from whatever the fuck is going on outside the house. You ran back to your room to put on a shirt, and when you were finished putting on your socks, running was heard from the hallway.

Rumble came through the door and dragged you by your forearm down towards a specific spot in the floor. He then lifted a larger floorboard that revealed a crawl space. He shoved you in, gently as possible, before he said, “Stay. Here. I’ll come for you when I beat him.”

“Who?” You were about to ask, but he slammed the door shut, leaving you to fear for the next few minutes.

You sat there for a few more minutes, before you heard crackling. Crackling of fire. You were desperately trying to open the door, but it seemed to be glued shut: there was nothing that could open it.

At this point, you were starting to cry. The symbiotes couldn’t stand fire, how would they stand this? You were desperate to leave, to escape: you never wanted to be here, with these people who thought they could help you. You wanted to go home, to see your family, friends, the people who loved and cherished you, and actually respected your boundaries.

The door was broken inwards and you felt every muscle in your body stop. You crouched a little from the trap door, hoping they didn’t hear you. From they're desperate steps and quick feet, it was obviously not Rumble or any other symbiote you knew.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the steps went into the hallway. As they walked by, slower, you held your breath. If they found you… well, you knew what happened when new symbiotes would find you.

You let out a silent sigh when they passed the door… only for them to come rushing back. Without even knowing it, they ripped open the trap door, revealing you, tired, scared, and cold.

The symbiote you saw was the exact one that was outside, who was attacking all the other symbiotes.

He looked shocked, as if he didn’t know you were there. “Child…” he asked, as he reached down to try and grab you, “what are you doing in a place like this?”

He picked you up with the utmost gentleness and care, like you would shatter if he just yanked you out. He cradled you within his arms, like you were a baby. He was a giant compared to you, being almost 7 or 8 feet tall.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, taking you with him, walking out of the house. You tried to crawl out of his palm, but he stopped you each time. “I-I don't know.”

He tried to give you a sympathetic look. “Oh, my sweet dear, don’t be afraid. I will k-”

He suddenly jumped into the fire, and you screamed expecting to be burnt along with all the weeds.

However, you didn’t feel anything. Turns out this was because the symbiote had taken you up into the air, so while he was holding you by your waist, he was also holding you out of the reach of the fire. He held his hand up high, not only to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt, but as you saw Rumble on the ground, close to the fire, you realized it was to get you out of his grip.

“Rumble. You used to be such an open minded symbiote. Now look at you. You are just leeching off of Lord Knull, the one who enslaves you and the rest of our kind!”

The white symbiotes seemingly noticed you again, and said, “and you have the audacity to bring an innocent child into this mess! How dare you!”

With that, he started to walk into the fire, which surprisingly was not burning him. He still held you up high so you wouldn’t be burnt by the flames, which was nice. You looked back at Rumble, who was trying to get up, but the injuries on his legs seemed severe. The fire was closing in on him as well.

You felt bad for him. You reached out, but before you could do anything, Anti venom started to sprint away from the house. The last thing you saw of Rumble was him collapsing onto the ground, broken and beaten.

When you were out of the fire, the symbiote lowered you to his eye level. “My name is Anti-Venom, tiny child. What is yours?”

BONUS:

Rumble sat on the remains of the house: nothing was left of it when Lord Knull appeared. It was a miracle he had even gotten the distress alert, a bigger one he had arrived in time to save rumble himself. Every other symbiote was gone, either from the fire or the white symbiote. Anti-Venom was his name.

“So, you failed at getting back _____ for me?”

“... Lord Knull, I am deeply sorry, but-”

“I don’t want to hear excuses, Rumble, I want to see my daughter! I want to seeher before the other two get her, or worse she falls for that idiotic Anti-Venom, do you hear me?!”

Rumble sat there waiting for Lord Knull to be done with his rant, before he said, “Yes, Lord Knull. I understand.”

Lord Knull stood up and started to walk away. “Good. I will try to locate her myself. In the meantime, find out everything you can about this Anti-Venom. I want his secrets, every dirty little thing about him, do you understand?”

“Yes, Lord Knull, it will be done.”

And with that, Lord Knull was gone, leaving Rumble to dwell in his own failures.

--------

almost forgot, @anxiousnerdwritings this was for u

#yandere knull #yandere cletus kasady #yandere carnage #yandere eddie brock #yandere venom #yandere anti-venom #yandere marvel #yandere marvel comics

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

Text

HONEY

corpse husband x reader

yes i had to title a fic this

yes i had to put the title in all caps

ps sorry it’s been a little while since i shared some writing

hope u enjoy this, happy reading! lmk what u think pls

word count: 2289

honey

Corpse emerged from his computer room, spotting you on the couch and he felt concern immediately. You had your bottom lip between your teeth and you were chewing down on it quite hard, because you were so anxiously focused on your phone. You hadn’t even noticed him enter the room, but he knew that was because your mind was so distracted. He took in a deep breath before speaking. “What are you looking at?” He questioned you, but he was certain he already knew the answer.

You jumped when you heard his voice, so concentrated on what was displayed on the screen you held in your hands, your phone also slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor with a clatter. “What?” You asked as your eyes snapped up to his and finally, your teeth freed your bottom lip.

“I asked what you were looking at. On your phone.”

“Oh.” You had completely missed his question, your mind was elsewhere, but he already knew that. “Just tik tok.” You lied, because you knew what he would say if he really knew.

But he already did know. “Really?” How could he not know when Corpse had been witness to how nervous you had been the past couple of weeks, and it had increased especially this weekend.

A silence fell as he continued to hold your eye contact, challenging how far you’d hide the truth from him, but there was no point, he knew better.

“No.” You whined out the word. And had Corpse not been looking right at you, he wouldn’t have caught the slight quiver to your lip right before you brought your hands up to cover your face and bent over in your seated position to be curled in on yourself. But he was looking right at you, and he had caught that slight quiver.

“Baby, please, you don’t have to cry.” Quickly he was in front of you, crouching down in front of you and placing himself between your legs. He’d seen you go through many of these mini breakdowns lately, and it created an ache in his heart every time. “Hey,” A gentle grip became present around your wrists in order to be able to pry your hands from your face. And just as he had anticipated, tears had bubbled in your eyes and a few had snuck out and dropped down your cheeks. He let go of your wrists then and cupped your cheeks, running his thumbs under your eyes to rub away your tears. “It’s going to be okay.”

“But what if it’s not?” You were waiting on your final grades of the year and to say you were stressed about it would be an understatement. You were normally a lot more confident in your studies, but over the past few months, life had really seem to throw some hefty curveballs at you and you knew your final assignments had suffered. You were hoping for a positive outcome but you were expecting the negative. Corpse had enough of watching you worry over FaceTime and so he invited you to spend the weekend with him, hoping that the act would help in distracting you from the anxiety you were so obviously experiencing. It was now Monday and the final grades were supposed to be available today. You had awoken bright and early to find out yours seeing as though the time you had been originally given was 8:00am. But the site had been down for the past seven hours.

“It will be. You know you’re smart, I know you’re smart. You will pass.” Corpse tried to reassure you, he’d been doing this a lot the past couple of days, but he didn’t mind, he’d do it as many times as it took to get you not to doubt yourself. “Look at me.” And finally, you lifted your eyes from the ground, finding your boyfriend looking back at you. “You’re going to pass, you’ve got this.”

You so badly wanted to believe him, but you were so positive that you had fucked up and you were going to fail and have to repeat all the classes you’d just taken. You let out a loud sigh and flopped yourself back against the couch. At the movement, you’d pulled back from Corpse’s touch and his hands had fallen to your thighs, but he stayed put in his place in front of you, wanting you to know he was there for you.

“Can you pass me my phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to see if it’s working yet.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because, (Y/N), you’ve been refreshing that fucking thing every minute, you need a break.” He hated the torture this was giving you. Your bottom lip had become slightly swollen and a bright red due to how much you’d been biting it out of nerves. Your fingernails had all been bitten off, something you only did when you were extremely on edge, and the sides of your cuticles had begun bleeding last night because you’d been picking at them as a way to distract yourself. Corpse had to grab a hold of your hands and keep them hostage in his own to make you stop doing it. He knew you hadn’t had a good nights sleep while staying with him, he felt you tossing and turning in his arms. You had barely eaten a thing since you got to his place, he was worried sick about you.

When you remained silent, he spoke up again and tried something he hoped would make you feel better. “Honey,”

And instantly you perked up, it was a pet name you didn’t hear all that often, so it caught your attention, in fact, it was one that you normally said to Corpse, a habit he had picked up off you and god did it sound a whole lot better coming from his lips. A tiny smile graced your face. “Don’t do that to me.”

“Why not, honey?” He dragged the word a little longer that time and his hands gripped your thighs, mirroring your smile as he noticed the tears in your eyes begin to subside, happy you were at least not crying any longer.

You swore you could feel your heart melt in your chest. “Stop it.” Playfully, you reached out to shove his shoulder, but Corpse didn’t budge.

Instead, his hands tightened on your thighs again and your eyebrow quirked up, wondering what he was going to do. And before you had a chance to ask him, he pulled you forward slightly before twisting you and his hands switched from your legs to grab at your sides as he came up himself to playfully tackle you into the couch. Once you were pinned beneath him, he began kissing you over and over again all over your face. “Corpse!” You giggled at the sudden movement and your laughter became louder with each quick kiss he left on your face. You had your hands braced against his chest, but he only laid down on top of you to trap them there.

He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon, words of reassurance weren’t making the cut to make you feel any better right now. And so now that he could hear your laughter boom out loud from the lovingly playful act, he wanted to keep this happiness in you present.

Once he was sure not one single spot of your face had been left un-kissed, he began to slow his actions and he lifted his head to look down at you. Your eyes now twinkled with joy and not tears and your lips pulled into a smile instead of a pout. He was so relieved to see that change.

“Thank you.” You whispered, and Corpse only shook his head in response. You were thanking him for making you feel better and he knew that, but he believed there wasn’t any need to do so. Your hands were freed from where they were confined between your chests and you wrapped them around his neck, pulling his face down to yours once again for another kiss, but one where you could kiss him back. Your lips meshed so easily with his as his weight became fully present on you again in the most comforting way. One of his hands crept under your shirt to touch your bare skin and his other moved to grip onto one of your thighs, you felt goosebumps raise beneath his fingertips. Your hands tangled into his hair and the kiss became more fervent.

He really was the most perfect distraction.

You lost track of how much time had passed, but the sun was setting now and you were still laid with your lover on the couch. Discarded clothes were bundled on the floor and now you were resting on top of him with a blanket over the top of the both you. Your face was nestled into his neck, your desire to be surrounded by him had been met in a multitude of ways, oh how much you loved this beautiful soul who held you so securely in his arms.

The two of you had fallen into a silence, Corpse had his eyes closed but he wasn’t asleep, he was concentrated on the feeling of your eyelashes brushing against his neck each time you blinked or moved your vision. But now, the eyelash flutters were becoming more frequent, you weren’t breathing as deep and slow as you were before and you had started to pick at your nails as your hand rested on his chest.

He brought one of his larger hands up to capture around your two, stopping you from the nervous habit. “Thinking about it again?” His deep voice broke the silence.

“Yeah.”

Corpse let out a long sigh before his eyes opened and he turned his head, spotting your phone which was still on the floor from when you’d dropped it earlier. He knew you must’ve wanted to desperately check again. “Stop picking at your nails or they’ll just get sorer.” He told you before he let go of them so he could stretch his arm out to grab a hold of your phone and bring it to you. “Hopefully it’s working now.”

You lifted yourself slightly to rest on one of your arms while your other grabbed the phone from Corpse. “I hope so.” You spoke quietly. Corpse watched you as you unlocked your phone and the screen lit up your face and he noticed you - just like you had earlier - catch your bottom lip between your teeth so you could chew on it nervously. He wouldn’t stop you from doing that one, as tempted as he had been because he didn’t want you to also cause pain to your own lip. Your eyebrows were furrowed in worry as you tapped away on the device, dreading the outcome as you went back to that website to try and find out your final grades. “Come on,” You groaned, of course it was taking longer then normal to load up.

The man laid beneath you could feel the anxiety radiating off of you, he was anxious for you, too. He was positive you would have passed everything, he didn’t doubt your intelligence but he had been there to listen every time you told him you just couldn’t concentrate on your assignments and exams properly with everything else that had been going on lately. However, you still had managed to get everything done.

“Oh my god.” You sucked in a breath as it began to load and so did Corpse. He tightened his arms around you and kept his vision trained on your face, looking for any clue in your expression of the outcome that was displayed on your screen. Panic began to fill him when he saw the threat of tears well up in your eyes and before he had a chance to say anything you spoke again. “I passed everything.” You said it so quick and quiet that, had he not been paying full attention to you, he might’ve missed it.

“You passed?”

“Yeah.” You released a sigh of relief and the panic that had briefly began to appear in Corpse quickly left as he realised the wetness in your eyes was out of relief and not disappointment.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” And suddenly you were being lifted into the air by Corpse’s arms and legs.

“Corpse!” You laughed again and when he brought you back down to lay a top him, he once again began peppering kisses all over your face. Except this time, they were not to distract you, but to celebrate and show how happy and proud he was of you.

“Stop!” But contrasting the word, you continued to giggle.

“Fuck no,” He murmured with yet another kiss dotted on your skin. “I’m so proud of you, (Y/N).”

You began to blush then and you dipped your head down to rest it in the crook of his neck. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have-”

“No, wait, thank you for more than just saying that,” you quickly cut your boyfriend off, “thank you for being there for me, I know I wasn’t being myself and was just an all round nightmare to deal with these past few days.”

“Are you not usually a nightmare?” He teased you.

“Hey!” You poked at his side and he laughed.

“You know I’m kidding.”

“I know. But I do really appreciate it and you, you know?” You nuzzled your nose against a dip in his neck and he pulled you in tight.

“I know, I do, too, honey.” There it was again, that pet name and once more, he had dragged it out.

“Call me that again.”

“Honey.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband fanfiction #writing #mine #request #HONEY

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crazy-bi-btch · 4 years

Text

Truth or Dare ( Fangs X Reader)

Summary: A secret relationship comes out in an innocent game of Truth or Dare....

Paring: Fangs X Anon Reader

Warning: NSFW,Language, mention of s3X, mentions of light BDSM

Word count: 1k

A/N: Okay so this is a request from a while back! Lmk if y’all want that part 2 ;)

Y/N POV & Reader POV

“C’mon Y/N spill!” I gulped my throat clenching. I sat in the circle of Cheryl’s comfy carpet where my friends and my secret boyfriend sat waiting for my confession. What turned out to be an innocent game for the teenagers ended up taking a turn for the worst. My beat red face said it all.

“ What was the- um question again?” I stuttered avoiding Fangs threatening gaze as if the cocky gazes from everyone else weren’t enough.

“ Y/N you picked truth so we ask again….” Veronica squealed, “ Have you had nasty rough sex with anyone in this room?” The girls giggled. The boys that consisted of Archie, Jughead, Sweet Pea, and Reggie all whistled and laughed also.

“ I haven’t-” I croaked out embarrassed. Toni burst out, “ Bullshit!! I remember those huge hickies you had. You forget we change in the same locker room.” My gaze darted from fangs to Toni and the floor.

“ Yes. But that’s it I won’t say who!” I blushed madly, the girls instantly screamed and the boys then realized it wasn’t them.

“ Well well, boys who were it.” Betty tsked as she scanned the boy’s expressions. They all looked back and forth between them. Fangs finally looked at me, his eyes dark and jaw flexed. My stomach churned as I remembered the promise we made each other.

“Why can’t nobody know?” I asked tracing crescent moons on his bare chest as we laid in bed together.

“Baby, you know why….your parents would freak, my friends, will too.” Fangs sighed playing with my hair. “ But let’s not lie that the secret is what gets us going,” I smirked at his cocky remark.

“ Yeah sure Mr. bad boy.” I teased, I absolutely knew it was true, the risky sex in semi-public areas where anyone could walk in. Or the sexual inuendos at school or when we were around our friends. The adrenaline and thrill were almost as good as the sex. But it also felt lonely.

Anger flooded my veins as I realized he really wasn’t going to speak up about us... Maybe ever. I wanted my friends to know. I don’t want to be a secret anymore.

“ Fangs.” I snapped. His face instantly dropped and the laughter was cut off. I stared right at him, fire in my eyes. “ But it doesn’t really matter, right? Because that what it is just nasty sex.” His eye went from narrow to concerned. The looks of every one were enough to kill the mood.

“ Dude-” Sweet Pea said stunned mouth hanging as confusion set around everyone’s face. Fang’s rubbed his neck avoiding everyone’s quiet gaze.

“ I’m done playing this game.” I snarled and pushed myself off the floor, ignoring the calls for me to stay.

“ Fangs. Go.” Toni snapped at him annoyed at his bashful reaction.

I went straight into the room I picked in the cabin, looking at myself in the mirror. Was he embarrassed by me? Hell, anyone could have me, yet he wants me to keep us a secret. It use to be fun.

“ Y/N..” Fangs called from the hallway as he looked for me. I rolled my eyes instantly going to slam the door, only to be stopped by a heavier weight.

“ Leave me alone.” I snapped at him as I weakly tried to push the door on him. It only pissed him off more.

“ Y/N I am serious. Let me in.” He growled as he shoved the door open, I stood stunned as he turned and slammed the door. “ I thought we agreed..”

“It’s a game Fangs! Get over it!” I yelled at him viciously, he hated to be yelled at. When it came to having rough sex…. It was very rough. Another reason he didn’t want us to be public. He was scared people would think he was abusive when in fact it was just our thing.

“ Don’t fucking yell at me.” He protruded pushing me towards the wall where his body trapped me. My eyes became hooded and small pants followed as his uneasy behavior turned me on. Sudden memories of their last nights together began like this. Him ordering me to get on my knees, his voice booming with dominance.

“ You knew the rule…” he sighed fingers ghosting my face and the few strands of hair that fell. His brown eyes looking for my bashful ones.

“ I- I’m...sorry…” I croaked hands connecting with his chest but were pushed down to the side and pinned to the wall.

“ I’m sorry what?” He teased. I gulped, eyes shining with innocence.

This was no longer a fight she could win, but yet another night of rough sex. And her body was practically shaking for it.

“Sir,” I whispered eyes looking down ashamed. He hummed softly and his fingers took a firm grip of her face, pulling her eyesight towards him.

He chuckled darkly remembering how mad she was earlier and how submissive she became under his touch. “ And here I thought you were mad at me… but it seems you forgot about that.” His breath ghosting around my jaw and down my neck. The electrical buzz flowing from my toes to my core was enough to pry a moan from the depth of my vocal cords. His lips pressed soft kisses as his finger slyly slide down my side to my thigh and inner thigh. Another sigh was released as I fully gave in to his touch. My brain too clouded with lust to comprehend what the fight was even about. Eyes fluttering shut and my head falling limp against the wall.

“ You know… I can just leave… as you said.” He sighed, pulling back just as his fingers ghosted my pulsing core. My brain felt static as I lazily looked at him suddenly realizing he would just leave me like this. I frowned my arms wrapping around his neck shoving my mouth on his in a desperate for my boyfriend. I didn’t care that the secret was out, that they could hear us.

“ C’mon Fogerty…” I sighed into the heated kiss, “ scared they’ll hear how vanilla you treat me..”

#riverdale smut #riverdale southside #fangs fogarty #sweet pea #toni topaz #Cheryl bombshell #jughead jones #southside serpents #betty cooper #veronica lodge #reggie mantle #archie andrews #fangs smut #fangs forgarty x reader #thanks anon #part 2?#request

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hookingminor · 4 years

Text

certified freak - pierre-luc dubois

a/n: there’s some whores in this house (it’s me, I'm the whore for pld) this is pure smut just imagine that covid isn’t a thing ok sorry it’s also not proofread hope u enjoy! like always feel free to leave me comments and lmk ur thoughts! yes this is loosely based on wap (bc that song was written for him)

word count: 2.7k

warnings (18+): slight daddy kink, light bdsm/choking, pld spitting in your mouth (god I fucking wish)

The deal was this: if Pierre got a hat trick, you allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you (not that this was much different from any other time.) In the rare event of a dick trick, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted for a week.

Tonight he’d had a hat trick. And during the qualifying round for playoffs. And for the game winning goal. To say he was excited to come home to you after the game was an understatement.

In fact, it was all he could think about as he changed out of his pads and got ready for the post-game interviews. It was also all you could think about as you watched him score in overtime.

Knowing he would be busy for a little while after the game considering he was the First Star of the night, Pierre sent you a text as he got dressed.

I want you in nothing but my jersey when I get home

Your pussy fluttered at the message, your cheeks heating instantly when you read it. A few other girls asked if you were going out with them afterwards, but they all knew what you really meant when you said you just planned on celebrating alone with Pierre.

You left the arena soon after the game ended, and it took you nearly forty-five minutes just to get out of the parking garages. When you got back to your apartment, you checked your phone for Blue Jackets updates and watched a few of Pierre’s videos.

A lot of the questions centered around him, being as performed so well, but you were shocked at his coy replies to reporters.

“You’re now one game away from clinching a spot in the playoffs. Are you going to celebrate tonight or wait until you win that final game?” One man asked.

“I’ll probably just have a quiet night in tonight,” he chuckled with a smirk, and you knew immediately what he was thinking, “I’ll save the celebrating for afterwards.”

Maybe you were being a little impatient, but you took off your jeans and panties about half an hour before he said he’d be home. You unhooked your bra and tore it off immediately after removing your bottoms.

You let your hands drift lower on your body, slipping your fingers underneath the hem of Pierre’s large jersey. You’d been wet since leaving the arena, and now you were practically dripping onto your fingers as you waited in anticipation. Pierre wasn’t supposed to be home for another fifteen minutes, you had plenty of time to have a little bit of fun.

You spread your fingers through your folds, eyes shutting as you began to focus on the pleasure building in your body.

“Starting without me?” You heard a voice say. Your eyes snapped open, and you retracted your hand from your core in an instant.

Pierre stood in the doorway as he dropped his duffel bag to the ground. He stalked across the room over to the bed, looming over you as he tugged you closer by your ankles. You leaned up on your elbows and met his heated gaze.

“I thought the deal was I get to do whatever I want?” He asked, “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.”

“Sorry, Luc,” you breathed out, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

The look he gave you told you that was the wrong thing to say.

“So you thought you could get yourself off without me knowing?” He raised his brow. You shook your head vigorously, hoping to backtrack.

“No, I—,” you began to apologize, but Pierre lifted his hand to grip your chin. He cut off your sentence by pressing his thumb against your lips to silence you. Slipping his thumb into your mouth, you instinctively closed your lips around them.

“I think you’ve done enough talking,” he replied, “Suck.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked against his tongue and pressed your tongue to the pad of his thumb. Pierre’s eyes darkened as he gazed down at you. He pulled his thumb from your mouth, which sounded with an audible ‘pop.’

“On your knees,” he commanded, stepping back from the bed so he could unbuckle his belt. Eagerly, you lowered yourself onto the floor in front of him and placed your hands behind your back just the way he liked. On nights like these, all he wanted to do was take. And you were more than willing to give.

Pierre pulled down his dress pants along with his boxers before kicking them off to the side. His shirt was quick to follow and soon he was bunching your hair into one hand and tapping your chin with the other. You understood the signal. You opened your mouth at his indication and let your tongue roll out as you awaited his next move.

“Remember what to do if it gets to be too much?” He asked finally. In times like these, it wasn’t possible for you to use your safe word. So, since you weren’t able to touch him anyway, all you had to do was dig your nails into the back of his calves if it became too much for you to take.

You nodded your head in agreement.

“I need your words, baby,” he said tenderly as his fingers brushed against your cheek, contrasting the way he was about to completely destroy you.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Pierre’s hand tightened its hold in your hair before he slid into your mouth. He brought his other hand to grip at the base of your neck to help push himself deeper. Your tongue met the underside of his dick, and you closed your lips around his throbbing length.

He began with a few slow, deep thrusts, getting you accustomed to his size. You sucked harshly around his tip when he pulled back, and you felt his abs tighten at your movement.

“You good?” He checked in, staring into your dilated pupils. You nodded the best you could and punctuated it with another long suck.

Taking your answer as a green light, he gave you a dark look before increasing his pace. Pierre’s hips thrusted faster now, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips before he retreated.

He fucked your face with force, and you felt yourself gag around him every time he thrusted back a little further than the last time. Tears welled your eyes as you made eye contact with Pierre, and he felt his balls tighten as he gazed down at the mascara running down your cheeks.

Pierre’s jaw dropped in a low groan as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted as your doe-like eyes met his.

His thrusts became a bit more erratic, and you tightened your lips even further against him as you knew he was about to hit his high.

“Gonna swallow for me?” He asked, shoving his cock deeper. You didn’t even want to think about how badly your makeup had run by now, but you gave him a pleading look to keep going.

Reaching his high, Pierre paused his hips mid-thrust, stopping as you swallowed around him. He pulled back a couple inches before his head fell back in pleasure and you felt his cum hit your tongue.

You swallowed as much as you could but felt a little bit dribble out of the corner of your mouth. Pierre pulled out of your mouth completely, and you brought your finger up to wipe the remaining cum before sucking it off.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he praised, affectionately wiping away your smeared mascara.

Helping you up onto your feet, Pierre pulled you into his arms and dipped his head down to kiss you roughly.

“Congrats on your hat trick,” you congratulated between breaths. Picking you up with his large hands, he lightly tossed you back onto the bed before crawling over you.

“If only I could’ve scored one more,” he said wistfully, his mind imagining all the things he could do to you in a week.

“Maybe try a little harder next time,” you teased, bringing him back down to meet your lips.

He chuckled at your joke as he dipped his head to your neck to place open mouthed kisses against the skin there.

Pierre’s hands trailed up underneath his jersey and squeezed around your breast. Your mouth opened in a small gasp, and he twisted one nipple between his fingers as he bit at your neck.

He pulled back for a moment to slide further down your body. He pushed up the bottom of the jersey to bunch around your waist to reveal your dripping pussy.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he commented in awe, “This all for me?”

“Always for you,” you moaned as he ducked down to bite at the inside of your thigh.

“Is this pussy mine?” He asked, meeting your gaze from between your legs. His tongue licked up your thighs until he stopped just outside of your folds.

“Yes,” you let out a shaky breath, “Only yours.”

Content with your answer, he licked a strong stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Your hand immediately flew down to grip at his hair that was beginning to curl with its extra length. His beard rubbed against your cunt, and your back arched off the bed with the added friction.

One arm reached out to keep you pressed into the mattress and your attempts to grind into his face were halted.

His tongue circled around your clit before he closed his lips around it. Sucking at your sensitive nub, you gasped in pleasure. Pierre ate you out fervently, you hadn’t even noticed he’d brought his fingers to your cunt until he’d slipped two inside of you.

He fucked you gently with his fingers as his tongue worked wonders on your clit. With his beard scraping against your folds, you felt your climax hit you suddenly and intensely.

Your toes curled as the white-hot pleasure ripped through your body. Pierre eased you through it, keeping his tongue light on your pussy until the shockwaves were over.

Before you’d gotten a chance to catch your breath, Pierre moved back up your body and engulfed you in a hot kiss.

You felt your wetness in his beard as his tongue entered your mouth to tangle with yours. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the feeling.

One of your hands snaked down between your bodies to grasp at Pierre’s cock, which was already starting to stiffen again. You pumped him a couple times in your hand until his grabbed your wrist to stop your movements. He removed your hand from him and moved it above your head. He took hold of your free hand to join the one trapped in his grip to immobilize you completely.

“Keep them there,” he stated before removing his hands.

You followed his orders obediently, and he rewarded you with a quick kiss. Pulling back, Pierre lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you sharply.

Your hands clutched onto the sheets beneath them as he began fucking you at a relentless pace. One hand rested by your head to steady himself as his other pressed fingertip-shaped bruises into your hips.

Pierre busied himself by sucking hickies into your neck as you bit your lip in ecstasy.

Your eyes flittered open as he moved his hand to your jaw. Squishing your cheeks together slightly, your mouth opened in a small “O” at the force, and something went unspoken between you two.

You let your tongue fall and relax as you stared into Pierre’s eyes. His grip changed so your chin was held between his thumb and pointer finger, and he took a second to gather some spit before he let it drop into your open mouth and onto your tongue.

“Jesus, fuck,” Pierre cursed, admiring the way you looked under him. His lips were back on yours almost immediately after, moaning into you.

When he pulled back, he pulled out of you in a quick motion. Pierre flipped you over onto your stomach and was piledriving back into you before you could complain.

Your face smushed into the mattress and Pierre’s arm stretched out to use your back as leverage while he pounded into you.

“I love seeing my name across your back,” he grunted out, his hands briefly moving to trace over the number ‘18.’

“Please, Luc,” you moaned into the sheets, “I’m so close.”

“What was that, baby?” He questioned, moving your hair aside to nip at your ear. You knew he heard you the first time, but he loved to hear you beg for it.

“Please let me come, daddy,” you whimpered, about to bubble over from pleasure, “I need it so badly.”

Pierre pulled your back against his chest, and his hand wandered up to your neck. He closed it around your neck lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to push you over the edge. The fingers on his other hand snaked down, and he rubbed tight circles onto your clit.

It didn’t take long before you fell over that familiar edge for the second time that night. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, and Pierre released unsteady breaths against your neck. His hand tightened around your throat for a few seconds as he thrusted up into your cunt, chasing his own high.

He let out a loud groan of relief as he released into you. You felt his warmth spread throughout your pussy.

Pierre went still beneath you and his hand loosened his grip on your throat. You both panted as you tried to catch your breaths.

Slowly, Pierre lifted you off of his dick, and you felt some of his cum drip out of you and onto his thighs. His eyes fell down to the sight of you dripping onto him, and he let out another low moan.

Before he decided to flip you back around and fuck you again, he removed himself from you altogether. Gently, he laid you down on the bed and retreated to the bathroom.

In your blissed out state, you hadn’t even noticed his absence until you felt Pierre spreading your legs again. You flinched at the feeling of the washcloth between your folds as he cleaned you up.

He tossed the washcloth somewhere on the ground, making a note to throw it in the laundry later. You still laid on the bed with your eyes closed as your breath finally began to even out.

Pierre joined you and rested on his forearm as he watched you regain your composure. His fingers darted out to trail over the skin on your stomach from where your jersey had ridden up.

“God, I wish I scored hat tricks more often,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh please,” you chuckled, “You know you can do this almost any time you want.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You hummed in agreement as you rolled yourself onto your side to face him. Your hand reached up to rub at the beard covering his chin. Normally, he didn’t grow it out this much, so you were thankful playoffs were still ahead.

“You should keep this,” you said, letting the hair scratch at your fingers.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. You nodded your head before leaning in to kiss him. Different from before, his lips sensually caressed yours, conveying all the love he had for you.

“Night’s not over just yet,” he said when you pulled back. You furrowed your brows in confusion at his statement.

“I think I can fit in one more round in the shower,” he suggested cockily as his fingers brushed over your hips, the indentations of bruises already beginning to form.

“Well, you did score a hat trick,” you concurred, “Can you get it done in twenty minutes?”

Pierre’s eyes flew to the alarm clock on your nightstand, and it was indeed 11:40. It wasn’t a rule that his celebrations ended at midnight, but you’d just challenged Pierre and he was not about to back down now.

“I only need ten,” he teased, tugging you off the bed and into the bathroom.

#pierre luc dubois #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl smut #my writing #yeah I wanna get rawed by pld #what about it #jets13

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cant-think-of-anything · 3 years

Text

Pirate AU (Part Seven)

TW: Violence

Lucie could safely say that while rain provided for wonderfully dramatic scenes to write she despised actually being in it. Storms in London were miserable enough but on a ship they were truly dreadful. She and Cordelia were crouched on top of the enclosed rooms above deck, Cordelia trying to see if she could spot any indicator of Tatiana inside.

“I don’t see anyone. We can search this room to see if we find anything. We need to be sure that this is where Tatiana goes”

And that’s what they did, lowered themselves into the room and searched through the sparse items that were within.

“This doesn’t tell us anything,” Lucie muttered in frustration, shoving aside the blank papers on the desk.

A loud creak caught her attention, and she turned to find Cordelia kneeling in front of an open trap door.

“Should we…”

“We have to,” Cordelia said, drawing her sword and holding her hand out to Lucie. “Just don’t let go.”

Grabbing onto her hand, they both went down the steep stairs that presumably took them below decks. She wasn’t foolish enough to hope Tatiana had died but it was safe to assume she was still healing from the stab wound Lucie dealt her. A lantern dimly lit the entrance into what she assumed were the decks below but something was wrong.

Cordelia had mentioned earlier that Tatiana had a very large crew but this room was entirely empty. There were small beds lining the floors with tiny cramped cells pushed up against the walls but no one was occupying either.

“Why would she have an entrance to this? Where’s the exit?” Lucie whispered, scanning the walls to find that there were none. What was the room used for?

A square of wood above their heads was ripped out, a patch of rain flowing into the room.

“What in-?” Cordelia was cut off by the sound of a yell and a landed punch before Eugenia fell through said hole, landing on her back in a way that made Lucie wince. She was shortly followed by Alastair and Thomas. Alastair managed to land somewhat gracefully before helping Thomas up. Eugenia though, sprang up, shouting a curse at the now closed ceiling.

Lucie scrambled over to her friends along with Cordelia, scanning them for injuries before exclaiming “What happened!”

Eugenia sighed sweeping the escaped pieces of hair back into the knot behind her head. “Someone found us, dragged us to the middle of the deck and then threw us through the ceiling! And we aren’t close to shore anymore. Whoever is sailing the ship has taken us far enough away that we can’t swim back without drowning or freezing in the storm. I don’t know how we are meant to leave.” She took a breath.

“They did something to me,” Alastair murmured, his face worryingly hazy. Lucie didn’t doubt it. She’d heard the way Alastair fought through Cordelia’s stories and she didn’t believe he would be down here if he hadn’t been drugged. Cordelia pulled a vial from her pocket and handed it to her brother.

“Christopher thought we would need it in case something happened. I’m not sure how he knew but I’m grateful.”

“Are you okay Lucie? Cordelia?” Thomas asked, casting a worried look at Alastair who seemed to be returning to his bearings.

“The hallway,” Cordelia said, staring at the entrance- or rather the place that used to lead into the room. “Is it sealed? On its own?”

“Our situation keeps getting worse then?”

A gravelly familiar voice answered Lucie’s question. “Yes girl. It does.”

She felt a cold curl of dread in her stomach, turning to face Tatiana Blackthorn who was flanked by a girl she didn’t recognize and a girl she did. Grace Blackthorn. It had been years but she remembered Grace as well as she did Tatiana. Eugenia paled when her eyes met the dark haired woman standing opposite to them.

~~~

This entire situation served as a fantastic reminder as to why Alastair never worked in crews. His fingers itched to draw a dagger and throw it into Tatiana’s heart but his head was still recovering and there was no guarantee that Tatiana wouldn’t do the same to one of his own. Thomas and Eugenia were also unarmed, he’d seen the man that threw them here take their weapons off. Fortunately the majority of his weapons were hidden in the lining of his clothing. He discreetly gave one to Thomas.

Tatiana stalked closer, and Alastair could see that she had barely recovered from the blow Lucie had dealt. He would have congratulate her on that later.

“You think,” Tatiana hissed, “You can interfere with my plans? Meddle here, try to kill me?”

“If your plan is to hurt us,” Eugenia snapped back defiantly, “Then yes.”

“You think you know hurt because you lost your sister?”

“We did not lose her. You murdered her.”

“Just a small repentance for what you robbed me off.”

“And what exactly is that?” Cordelia piped in, and Alastair could see her hand reaching to wear Cortana was hidden under her coat.

“Your families,” she responded, her eyes piercing into Lucie, Eugenia and Thomas, “were the ones I came to when my husband and son were dying. Blood is thicker than water isn’t it? They left us to fend for ourselves and my husband died because of it. My son grew sick to the point of death. You still believe your parents are saints? They used to be family too.”

Lucie gave a violent jerk at the mention of the Blackthorn child.

“So yes. I did murder your sister,” She said turning her dark gaze to Eugenia. “And I enjoyed it. She was worthless anyway.”

Without warning, Eugenia slapped Tatiana, her voice dipped to a hiss “Never talk about my sister that way.”

And then chaos broke, the silver haired girl that Alastair vaguely remembered from the street drew her sword against Eugenia, Lucie and Cordelia turned their weapons against Tatiana leaving Alastair and Thomas to face who he presumed was the ship navigator from the way they were dressed. The grinding of metal was oddly soothing, the only other thing besides Cordelia that was familiar in this situation. Cordelia managed to give Eugenia a short blade in the midst of it so she could protect herself.

Alastair cursed, and turned to Thomas, “Keep her off us,” with a gesture in the navigator's direction who looked as if she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

He grabbed Lucie’s arm and pulled her to the wall, glancing back to make sure Cordelia was able to hold her own against Tatiana and Grace. He poured what little they had of Christopher's solution on the wall before gesturing to Lucie’s axe. “Cut through it.” At her questioning stare he sighed. “Now.”

The wood fell away easily and Alastair peered down, breathing his relief when he spied the rowboat. It only was suited for three people but they had no other choice. He turned back. Tatiana was near unconscious, Alastair could see her wound bleeding again but the other two were still fighting. Thomas, Lucie and Eugenia were promising he could admit, but they weren’t trained, certainly not the way Tatiana trained her crew.

He grabbed Eugenia and Lucie by the sleeve, making sure Thomas could hear him as well. “Boat. Now. Jump and lower yourself down when everyone is on.” He took his place by Cordelia as their friends escaped. Grace scowled and slashed her sword in an arc, their navigator parried her sword against Alastair’s.

“You too Cordelia.” He muttered. “We can’t win this and keep our friends alive.”

Her eyes were wide as she cut at Grace’s legs. “You’re coming with us right?”

“I am.” It was a lie. But a believable one. Too much weight and a ship capsizes, especially in a storm such as this one. He knew enough about boats to know that he wouldn’t be leaving. Cordelia nodded and pushed Grace away one final time, allowing enough time for her to jump through the jagged hole. It was only then that Alastair yelled for Eugenia to lower it into the water.

“But what of you?” She shouted back, her voice barely audible over the winds.

“I’ll find my own way out! Leave!”

Grace’s blade cut across his arm, the navigator and Tatiana had apparently vanished. Despite the blade nearly against his neck and the fact that he was trapped on an enemy ship with no way out, he still felt a rush of relief. He heard the rope loosen and the boat drop into the water, freeing his friends.

~~~

Just to clarify Eugenia, Thomas, Cordelia and Lucie made it out, I’m not sure if the ending made it sound like they fell in.

Tagging: @adoravel-fenomeno and @barbra-lightwood (lmk if you want to be added)

#alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #lucie herondale #thomas lightwood #eugenia lightwood #kamala joshi #grace blackthorn #tatiana blackthorn #thomastair #lucelia #joshwood #tlh #the last hours #tsc #my writing #tw violence #tw weapon

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childishfluff · 4 years

Text

Little Kitten- [TommyInnit Pet Regression Oneshot]

Pet Regressor/Kitten!TommyInnit, CGs/Handlers!Wilbur and Tubbo

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten. He liked cat ears and playing with balls of yarn, and curling up in a little ball to take a nap. None of this was a problem until Wilbur and Tubbo came to stay at his house for a week, and he had to hide both a littlespace, *and* a kittenspace. And when Tubbo continuously calls him a "kitten" due to his results on a stupid internet "what animal am I" quiz, and Wilbur literally pets him while cuddling, he realizes he wasn't going to last a day. He was simply a little kitten. And now his friends knew that. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age+pet regression, dni if your nsfw/abdl/ageplay/petplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: so I was reading some tommy centric fics and the idea of Catboy!Tommy popped in my head, which eventually evolved into Kitten Regressor!Tommy as I brainstormed and this 4000-something oneshot happened. To my knowledge, there are no other pet regression fics in this fandom, and this is my first pet regression fic. If I misrepresented something, or you just wanna tell me something cool about pet regression in the comments, feel free too lmk in the reblogs/replies/in my ask box after reading!

For those who don't know, pet regression is similar to age regression. Pet Space (kittenspace,puppyspace,ect) is a separate headspace that someone can slip into, where they act like a different critter or creature. It can be used for all the same reasons as agere, and the online communities overlap a ton! You can look into it more, but that's the gist of it! It's nonsexual, safe for minors, and it ISN'T P3TPL@Y! also warning for a very brief mention of kinks and "getting off" (tommy basically saying that he's not into petplay) at the beginning.

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten.

Figuring this out was confusing for him. Even after discovering why he liked acting like a toddler sometimes, and why it helped him, he had to figure out why he also found comfort in pretending to be an animal. At first, he thought that this cutesy cat-like headspace was just him playing around while little, pretending to be one of his favorite creatures.

But then, he noticed how different his behaviors were when he got like this versus when he was just being a kid. It was really annoying, because he could research anything without stumbling across kinks that he was sure he wasn't into.

Just because the thought of wearing cat ears and curling up in someones lap and being pet softly made him happy, didn't mean he got off on it. Eventually, though, he discovered pet regression.

The pet regression community was overlapped, heavily, with the age regression and age dreaming ones he already secretly took part in. He was shocked he hadn't stumbled across it during his late-night scrollings through the "littlespace" tumblr tags.

Just like when he discovered his littlespace, he bought things online with money saved up from streaming, telling his family it was supplies for a video, and created a secret little box that sat under his bed for whenever he wanted to indulge in that headspace. Choker necklaces that resembled kitty collars, cat ears, certain sensory toys, different snacks.

Now, none of this would be a problem, if it wasn't for the fact that Wilbur and Tubbo coming over to stay at his house for a week while his parents were on vacation. Yes, he had pushed to stay home, preferring that he was babysat by someone he saw as his older brother, instead of being forced to go on a boring trip and go on a forced streaming break.

But he didn't quite think out how he'd pull off not regressing in front of either of the two of his friends, for a whole week. Tommy regressed the most when his parents weren't home, and now he couldn't do that.

All he could do is hope that he wouldn't slip, and that they wouldn't discover either of the two boxes under his bed. He'd quickly find that that was really hard when he had two friends that constantly teased and babied him.

"So, what should we do this week? Besides streaming and gaming, of course," Tubbo questioned from his spot where he laid on Tommy's bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy shrugged, spinning a bit in his gaming chair.

His parents had left a few hours ago to catch their flight, after Tubbo and Wilbur were dropped off early that morning. Tubbo had gotten settled, and Wilbur took the responsibility of making them lunch. So now, the two teenagers sat in Tommy's bedroom.

"I don't know. We'll obviously film some videos," Tommy spoke casually, biting the inside of his cheek. All the excitement and anticipation had worn off, and now they were bored. Yeah, they could start a stream or boot up a game, but it felt right to just enjoy each others company. They had sat in silence for a while, their previous conversation falling off when they ran out of things to say, until one of them tried to start another.

Tubbo had gone through a lot of trouble with his parents to be there, doing everything he could to convince them that Wilbur was responsible enough to watch over him for a week. Tommy wasn't just gonna shove a mic in his face and tell him to entertain his twitch viewers.

"I have an idea!" Toby gasped, sitting up suddenly.

"What is it?" Tommy laughed a bit at his sudden realization, and how his friend had replied to it.

"We should take online quizzes together," he suggested. "Hogwarts house, personality type, whatever you want, and compare our results. You in?" he questioned, standing up and coming over to sit in the wooden chair to the left of Tommy's.

For now, the blonde had two of his kitchen chairs in his room, so that the three men could huddle up together at his PC for streams throughout the next week. "Sure," Tommy nodded a bit, booting up his computer.

"We should start with the Hogwarts House quiz, don't ya think?" Tubbo asked, watching him open his browser.

"Sounds good to me," Thomas agreed, following his suggestion and searching up the desired quiz.

After a handful of quizzes, most of which Tommy deemed "inaccurate" due to results that didn't make any sense to him, they took a "what animal are you" quiz. Tommy knew what his results would be, he's taken tests like this a million times.

It'd most likely label him as a cat. He figured that Tubbo would be none the wiser, clicking through the test and answering honestly. He was a little taken aback when the result screen specifically told him that he was a "kitten".

"Aww," Toby cooed in a teasing voice. "I thought that you might've gotten 'cat', but kitten? That's so cute." he laughed a bit.

"It's probably because they just put kitten in place for cat," Tommy scoffed, hoping with every ounce of his soul that he was pulling off the "shocked and annoyed" act, which he hoped covered up his nervousness.

"Let's see," Tubbo took control of the mouse, click on the drop down arrow next to the blue text that read 'All Possible Results'. "See! There is an option for cat, and it called you a kitten!" he cheered, causing Tommy to roll his eyes a bit.

"Whatever," he said, "It said you were a Golden Retriever, so..."

"Tom-Tom's a little kitty!" Tubbo ignored his statement, talking loudly in a sing songy voice. Tommy knew that he wasn't doing this to be mean, and that he was just joking around, but it did hurt a bit. Because he was a kitten sometimes, and it felt like his friend was making fun of it.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but the food is ready," Wilbur's voice joined the conversation, the older man suddenly appearing in Tommy's doorway. Tommy jumped to defend himself, but Tubbo got there first.

"We took an online quiz that said Tommy was a kitten! 'Cat' was an option, but it said that he was a little kitty," he laughed again.

"Oh, don't tease him." Wilbur said, "Those tests are crap anyway, I'm sure there was a question you misunderstood or something." he claimed as he came closer to them, standing behind the two chairs as he looked at Tommy's monitor. He could tell that the teasing was making Tommy a bit uncomfortable.

He didn't know why for sure, figuring that it had something to do with being called a 'kitten' feeling to childish for him. "Maybe," Tommy agreed, looking up to Wilbur thankfully. Tubbo must've realized that he accidentally upset Tommy when Wilbur intervened and Tommy immediately seemed relieved, because the next thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," he spoke up. "I was just teasing, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's all good," Tommy smiled a bit, shrugging, feeling a little better with the reassurance that it was all just a joke. "Most of the tests were crap anyways."

The three of them shifted their conversation to other topics, making their way out to the kitchen to eat the food Wilbur made. Later on, they all gathered up blankets and pillows and snacks to watch movies in the living room.

Tommy was a little worried that the Disney movie Wilbur picked would make him go into littlespace, but that seemed to be the least of his worries as they tried to figure out their cuddling positions for the movie. Of course, they didn't need to cuddle, but it seemed that they all silently agreed that they would be.

"I wanna lay down," Tommy whined, re positioning a pillow near one end of the couch.

"Come here, you crybaby," Wilbur ordered, grabbing his arm. Tubbo was curled up to Wilbur's side, one of the older mans arms around him as he settled into the warmth of the embrace. Wilbur guided him into laying down so that his head was in his lap, a few layers of soft fabric between their skin.

Tommy didn't fight against this, blushing just a bit as he curled up, letting Wilbur lay a blanket over him. "Is this okay?" he asked in a soft voice, looking down as him. Tommy nodded softly, glancing up at him for a moment before he looked away shyly. Why was he so bashful right now?

"Cuddly," he mumbled simply, settling into the position mindlessly. Wilbur seemed pretty amused by this, using his nails to scratch his scalp, the action not unlike how he'd scratch a kitten's head if one curled up in his lap. Again, Tommy didn't protest, leaning into the touch a bit.

Wilbur continued doing things like this as the movie played, sitting back and lightly petting the boy. He'd play with his hair, or run his fingers over his skin in simple patterns. It was just a cute way of showing affection, and the blonde teenager seemed to enjoy.

Meanwhile, Tommy was holding back kittenspace and trying to focus on the childish movie. His petspace was voluntary, to his knowledge. But Wilbur treating him like a cat, giving him the simple affection he's secretly wanted for so long, made him want to regress to the state of a kitty so bad. He was halfway there already.

He just wished that he could put on his little cat ears. He always looked to cute when he did.

His friends did notice that he stayed very quiet throughout the movie, not really replying to their joked or adding onto their commentary of the movie. They didn't say anything, though, assuming that he was just sleepy earlier than usual, joking amongst themselves as the plot of the movie played out on the screen.

At one point near the end of the movie, Wilbur reached over and scratched the patch of hair closest to Tommy's ear, earning a hum from him. It sounded much closer to a kitten's pur, which shocked Wilbur. He looked over to Tubbo, leaning close to him and whispering, "He really is a little kitten, huh?" as he continued to scratch his scalp.

Toby giggled a bit, nodding in agreement. Tommy seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing when Wilbur pulled his hand away for the time being, cutting out his low hum and burying his now-red face in the blankets across Wilbur's lap.

Wilbur could help but think about how cute he looked doing that, immediately feeling the need to cuddle the boy close and protect him.

Eventually the credits started rolling, and Wilbur told the boys to get off of him. Tubbo did it with little complaining, stretching a bit and standing up with a yawn. Tommy, however, completely lost in his kitten space as this point, whined, pouting.

"I know you're comfy, and probably sleepy, but it's time to get up, Toms." Wilbur told him, fighting against the urge to just push him off the couch. Yes, it'd be funny, but it'd also be mean. Wilbur didn't wanna upset him.

When Tommy didn't reply, remaining curled up with his head in Wilbur's lap, the pet his head softly once again, pushing back the blanket that laid over him a bit. Immediately, Tommy switched his position so that he was laying on his back, swiping his hand at Wilbur's, scratching him a bit.

Like a playful kitten.

Wilbur gasped, seemingly confused as he tilted his head. He dropped the blanket, pulling the attacked hand to his chest defensively. Tommy didn't hurt him all the much but he did just try to scratch him in response to his blanket be taken away. It was funny, and cute, but also confusing. "Ouch! Why'd you do that?" Wilbur asked, pulling his hand away immediately.

Tommy pouted up at him, not knowing exactly how to verbally apologize. He decided on his next actions, rolling over so that he was on his stomach and stretching out. He then adjusted himself so that he was on his knees and hands, looking at Wilbur with a slight head tilt.

There was still a clear pout on his face, his eyes innocent and cute. "What are you doing?" Wilbur chuckled, not understanding his behavior. He couldn't blame all these absolutely adorable actions on being sleepy, surely. He was acting like a kitten, undeniably.

"He's a kitten!" Tubbo said, coming closer to him and scratching Tommy's head. Tommy nuzzled into his hand as he leaned into the touch. "Pet regression," he remembered the name for it, saying it suddenly a few moments later. "I thought Tommy might've been a little but I didn't know about this."

"What?" Wilbur questioned, only more confused than before.

"I think Tommy's an age regressor, and a pet regressor, too, apparently," Tubbo looked to Tommy for some sort of confirmation. Tommy nodded a bit, shyly, confirming both of his guesses. "He can revert back to the state of a child, and also a kitten! He's in a cat-like headspace, so he's going to act like a baby kitty." Tubbo giggled, wiggling his fingers over Tommy's head and watching as he swatted at it. Toby pulled his hand away at the last second.

"I researched age regression because Tommy was acting a bit childish during a late night call a while back, and came across petre too," Tubbo added. "I was planning on asking him about the little thing while I was here, actually."

Tommy didn't know that Tubbo already knew. If anyone could've guessed, it would've been him. They were best friends. He'd call him a lot when upset, or stressed, to talk about what was bothering him. It wasn't a shock that the main person who saw him when he needed something to help him feel better had started to pick up on the traits that hinted toward the coping skill he used to feel better.

Wilbur seemed to understand. For whatever reason, Tommy liked acting like a cat. It was a sort of headspace that he could get into, that Wilbur must've accidentally triggered. Tubbo continued to play with and pet Tommy, explaining the basics of both age regression and pet regression to Wilbur.

"They can both be done for coping, voluntarily or involuntarily. It seems that all the cuddling and petting made him slip. I think he's nonverbal, too, at least as a kitten," Tubbo said, running his fingers through Tommy's hair. At some point, Tommy had sat down, still playing along and swiping at his hands here and there. Tubbo seemed so excited to play with him, and that made him happy!

"Agere and petre can intersect, too. So he might just act childlike with kitten-qualities mixed in," Tubbo continued to explained. "There's also pet gear and little gear, stuff you use when you get into those headspaces. Do you have any of that, kitty?"

Tommy nodded a bit, reaching over and pressing on Wilbur's shoulder, as if telling him to follow as he stood up. He didn't like traveling on all fours all the time in kittenspace, and would only crawl short distances. Otherwise, he would just walk like he would usually. Maybe skip, if he was in a good mood.

Wilbur followed his nonverbal request, following the two teenagers to Thomas's bedroom. Tommy dropped to the floor next to his bed, Tubbo following suit. Tommy pulled out one of the boxes, Toby grabbing the other. "So what is pet and little gear for?" Wilbur asked, curiously.

"I'm sure Tommy will be willing to tell you more when he's up to talking," Tubbo's words earned a slight nod as the regressor opened the box. "But it's basically stuff to help you according to the headspace your in. Comfort items, childish things for littlespace, stuff to make you feel more like a pet for petre."

"Like cat ears or collars for kittyspace!" he added with a chuckle as Tommy pulled those items out of the box, waving them around as an example. His cat ears were all on headbands. He had white and orange ones, black ones with little ribbons, another set with little bells, he didn't know which ones he wanted.

Tubbo realized that his box was little gear, sliding it back under the bed and focusing on Tommy, who seemed happy.

He bounced in place a bit, very excited and playful now, despite being sleepy before. He was happy! When Tubbo believed that his friend might've been different, instead of judging him, he researched a ton and then jumped in to help him when he needed it. And Wilbur, who didn't completely understand what was happening, was still being supportive, just asking questions.

He thought that they were gonna weird about it, or judge him. But here Tubbo was, playing with him and answering questions for him because he understood his nonverbalism. "When will he be....not a cat, anymore?" Wilbur pondered.

"Depends. Regression can last a few minutes to a few days, who knows. But while he's like this, we should make him comfortable, don't ya think?"

Wilbur hummed a bit. He could ask more questions later, directly to his friend that actually experienced this stuff and would be able to tell him more. For now, he'd do his best to make Tommy comfortable, like Toby had said.

Tommy grabbed the cat ears with the bells, white furred ones with pink inside the ear, little pink bows and gold bells on them. He shook it in his hand, like a rattle, listening to the music it made. He made a squeak that sounded suspiciously like a "meow", before giggling. "Did you cat those ears, Tommy?" Wilbur asked, softly taking the headband from him.

Tommy pouted, nodding as the ears were taken from his very pa- hands. He wasn't actually a kitten, he had human hands. He giggled at his own thoughts, snapping out of it when he felt the headband slip onto his head. Wilbur adjusted it.

"There." he stopped after a second, looking him up and down. "You're adorable," he complimented. Tommy blushed, smiling. He looked back down to the box, pulling out a white choker, which had another pink ribbon in the front, with a larger, silver bell hanging from it. He immediately put it on, fiddling with the bell.

"Did you wanna change? There's some clothes in that box," Tubbo asked. As expected, Tommy didn't verbally reply, digging through his box and pulling out a white adult onesie, designed to resemble a real baby one. It was plain, with pink lining, obviously picked out to go with the choker and cat ears.

"Aww," Wilbur cooed, immediately. "You want the onesie, sweetheart?"

Tommy nodded a bit, also grabbing pastel pink shortalls. He might've been happy, and seemingly comfortable, but he was not walking around in just a onesie. "That'll look cute together," Tubbo approved of his outfit choice. Tommy grabbed a few more things from the box, either setting it in a pile, or holding it in his arms.

He left to go to the bathroom, pushing the box back under the bed and leaving without another word. "What all did he pull out?" Tubbo asked, looking to the pile with curiosity.

"A stuffed kitten," Wilbur stated, looking at the white stuffed toy. "It seems that he dressed up to look like this toy," he chuckled. Tubbo laughed, too. "Uh, there's a ball of yarn, and a little white ball?" he sounded curious, picking it up. Quickly, Wilbur realized that it rattled.

"Oh, he likes things that make sounds," Tubbo reasoned. "Rattles and bells. That's cute," Tubbo smiled. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, a pink scarf." Wilbur replied. "Does he just play with anything?" he laughed.

"Isn't that what actual cats do? They scratch at and play with anything in sight," Tubbo joked.

"Fair enough."

They kept talking until they heard shuffling by the door. There, stood Tommy, clad in his cute little, perfectly planned-out outfit. Just his presence earned coos from his friends, who immediately complimented him. "You look so adorable, kitten!" Wilbur said, motioning him over. Tommy approached them, dropping to his knees and hands when he got close to them, 'pouncing' across the carpet.

He giggled, returning to his previous sitting position next to his pile, grabbing the stuffed kitty. "You look just like your toy, y'know." Tubbo told him. Tommy smiled wide, as if he was proud of this fact, nodding quickly. He wore knee-high socks with his out, white and pink striped to match the rest of the outfit. It seemed he took pride in color-coordinated, cute outfits, unlike when he was in his usual headspace. He usually just threw on a baseball shirt and jeans.

"She kitty, and m' kitty too," he mumbled, speaking for the first time since entering his kitten space earlier that day. He didn't talk much in kittenspace, he always had to pull himself into an "in-between" headspace to do so, but he could if he wanted or had to.

"Aww, the kitty can talk. Yes, you are both very adorable kittens," Wilbur cooed from his spot next to the regressor, wrapping his arms around him. Tommy melted into the embrace, nuzzling the side of his face into the part of Wilbur closest to him, his arm.

Tubbo didn't interrupt their moment, waiting for one of them to speak. After a bit of silent cuddling, Wilbur spoke up. "How about we all move back to the living room and set up a little play area for you, yeah? I'll turn on some cartoon, and make some snacks, and we can have fun until bedtime. Does that sound nice, kitty?"

He swayed in place a bit, moving Tommy with him. Tommy nodded excitedly. "Snuggles," he mumbled when Wilbur pulled away from their hug, pouting. "Snuggle me! M' a cute kitty!" he giggled, pointing to himself. He scrunched his nose a bit.

Tubbo and Wilbur knew that the boy was very different off camera. Sometimes, he was still loud, and cursed a lot, but others, he was chill. And apparently, he could be soft sometimes, too.

"I have no doubt about that," Wilbur chuckled, tapping the button of his nose with his index finger, Tommy swatted at it, a bit confused on what to do next when he successfully got ahold of his finger. He put his other 'paw' around it too, dragging his hand to his mouth and biting on his finger.

Wilbur pulled back his hand quickly, shocked. "Bad kitten! We don't bite," he scolded, tapping his head lightly with his hand. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know that he wasn't supposed to do what he just did. Tommy pouted again, his eyes immediately glossing over.

Again, he felt like he couldn't verbally apologize, to upset to pull himself out of headspace enough to talk. This frustrated him and only upset him more. He took the hand he had bit by the wrist, nuzzling his hand into it.

The main difference between Tommy in kittenspace and a real kitten is that he still had, at the very least, a child's level of emotional intelligence. Which meant that he was able to tell when people were upset with him. And he didn't like it when someone was upset with him.

He didn't have kitty teeth! Which meant that his bites hurt a lot more then a kitten's, he reasoned mentally. Wilbur was upset because he hurt him. Cuddles would make it all better, because cuddles made all boo-boos better, he decided.

"Oh, you're okay, baby," Wilbur assured, scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair again. "You didn't really hurt me," he said, as if he was able to read his mind. "You don't need to cry, little kitty."

Tommy kept nuzzling his hand, blinking away his unshed tears. Tubbo leaned close to Wilbur, whispering into his ear.

"Call him a good kitten."

Wilbur nodded, figuring that that made sense. Wilbur had reassured Tommy in every other sense, but he was still guilty. There was a good chance that his emotional response was to the term "bad kitten!".

"You're such a sweet, good kitten."

As predicted, his head perked up at that. He tilted his head, as if to ask 'really?'. "A very adorable, sweet baby kitten," Wilbur ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, his words and affection earning a smile from the pet regressor. "Let's gather up these toys and go set up in the living room, kay? Is there anything else that you need?"

Tommy nodded shyly, crawling over to the edge of his bed and pulling out the little box. He located a light pink plastic item, holding it up. "No more bitin'," he said, slipping the adult pacifier into his mouth. It only added to the childish look.

Wilbur and Tubbo smiled at him. Wilbur was glad that he picked the right cuddling position that somehow led to this, and Toby was glad that he did all that research over the past few weeks. And they were all glad they had planned this one week meet up.

They moved out to the living room, where they played and watched cartoons late into the night. The following morning, Tommy thanked the two of them for everything, and they had an honest conversation about it, telling them everything. How long he had been regressing, both for little and kitten space, how often he did it, when he got all the little and kitten gear.

Wilbur and Tubbo asked a ton of questions, and Tommy answered every single one. Over the next week, between streams and video-filming, Tommy would regress and let his friends learn more about little him, and kitty him. Who Wilbur and Tubbo started calling 'Tom-Tom', by the way.

Eventually, Wilbur would become Tommy's caregiver and handler, after babysitting him over discord calls many, many times. All thanks to that one week visit.

Tommy was so glad he ended up slipping that night, even if it was inconvenient at first. Everything worked out in the end, and he wouldn't change the events of that night if he could.

It all led to him being Wilbur's 'good kitten'.

A/N: let me know if you have requests for any agere/age dreaming/pet regression fics involving some of the DreamSMP members, lmk! I may not write it, due to not knowing to much about a specific youtuber or being uncomfy w/the prompt, but I always love hearing ideas! Please leave feedback/your thoughts on this in the reblogs/replies/my ask box too, I definitely would like to hear them! I hope y'all enjoyed, I spent a while writing this and I hope it makes *someone* happy!

-Apple

#TommyInnit #little!tommyinnit #kitten!tommy #dream smp petre #cg/handler!wilbur+tubbo #cg!wilbur #cg!tubbo #Dream SMP #age regression #kittenspace #pet regression #pet regressor!tommy innit #dream smp agere

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awritingtree · 4 years

Note

Hii love! Here to join your celebration. I'm asking for a ship (couldn't find the emoji). I'm a Slytherin, so my personality kind of fits the traits (ambitious, determined yk). I'm also the mum friend that takes care of everyone (except myself yikes). I'm an introvert but if you ask me the ✨right✨ questions I won't stop talking. Pretty competitive too, sarcastic but a hopeless romantic (waiting for my isaac or stiles). I feel like I overshared but it's done so...

Don’t deserve that

James Potter x reader

Summary: Nothing ever got in the way of James Potter and Y/N Y/L/N’s friendship. Well that is except James’ stupidity and obliviousness

Words: ~1.4k

Warnings: fluff, James being an idiot (what’s new?)

A/N: this is short and shitty and I wrote it in an hour while watching a movie so just, I’m sorry :/

To April: I screeched when you mentioned Isaac and Stiles. I actually got super inspired and kind of turned this into a small fic I hope you like it :)

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James Potter was someone that was present in the earliest memories you had of your life. Your parents had been good friends since Hogwarts, and it was no surprise that the friendship extended to their children too. Your friendship was as strong as it got, never wavering even when you got sorted into Slytherin, and it continued to strengthen as the years passed by. You’d become good friends with the rest of the Marauders as well, though Sirius was skeptic about you at first being a Slytherin and all, he’d warmed up to you in no time.

James and you were like two peas in a pod, never able to stay away from the other for too long. Going more than one day without talking to other was impossible which was probably why your arguments never escalated further into something serious. The only time the two of you seemed to butt heads was when it came to Quidditch, with James being the Gryffindor captain and you being the only girl in his rival’s team. Time leading up to a Slytherin vs Gryffindor were always tension-filled throughout the castle and this extended to your friendship too; the playful quips and brags to the other about how they were planning to celebrate their own victory and the others’ loss. But there was no other bigger supporter of James than you and of you than James.

Being such good friends with someone like James, you weren't really surprised when you started developing feelings for him. In fact you welcomed the non-platonic feelings with open arms, always being a hopeless romantic through and through. The idea of falling in love and spending the rest of your life with your childhood best friend was something you had dreamed about since you were a young girl. Though at that time you never thought it would’ve been James, even though he was the only viable option, you weren’t complaining.

Some people would say you’d never work out being polar opposites, the quiet Slytherin and the loud Gryffindor. But a few others knew better, that was made you so perfect for each other. James brought you out of your shell and you helped ground the hyperactive childlike man.

Lately you felt that James had been pulling away from you; leaving when you entered a room, making excuses to skip out on the plans he’d previously agreed to, barely acknowledging your presence when you were hanging out together in a group. Were you under the impression that maybe, just maybe, James Potter might return your feelings? Yes, you were. But apparently it was all your imagination. You weren’t really hurt but more so sad and disappointed because of his actions.

You entered the Great Hall one evening after classes and headed towards the rowdy boys you called your friends. Sirius spotted you first, waving you over enthusiastically. You grinned widely, practically skipping over. Before you could sit down, James stood up, muttering something about sending a letter before dashing out. You frowned and sat down next to Remus, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Why does he hate me?” you asked sulkily, believing that you had officially lost your best friend.

Remus patted your head, “He doesn’t hate you.”

You scoffed, lifting your head, “Really? Then why does he seem to run away every time I’m around? I wish he would just talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong.”

Remus and Sirius glanced at each other. They knew exactly what the problem was, their brother was head-over-heels for a girl who was head-over-heels for him; the only problem was that neither wanted to believe the other did.

Sirius reached over the table, placing his hand on yours hoping to reassure you, “It’ll be okay love.”

You smiled weakly at him, “I’m not really hungry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sirius and Remus worriedly watched you leave and decided that enough was enough, they needed to talk to James.

A few days later, you exited the Great Hall, finally done for the week. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the weekend lying in bed, catching up on sleep and avoiding the rest of the world.

“Y/N! Wait!”

You stopped, turning around, shocked, due to the boy approaching you. His jet-black hair was a mess as usual, his glasses lopsided on his face as he ran towards you.

He stopped in front of you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he bounced on his heels, “Can we- can we talk?”

You nodded, too surprised to come up with any words. He led you to an empty classroom, walking next to you in silence. You stood in the middle of the room, staring at him as he paced around the room, running his hands through his hair making it messier than usual if that was possible, rubbing his face. You stepped forward, putting a stop to his worrisome behaviour.

“What is it? You’re worrying me,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing.

James looked into your eyes, opening and closing his mouth seeming to not be able to utter the words he wished to speak.

“You can tell me anything. I know we don’t talk much anymore but I really hoped it wasn’t this bad,” you said in a very poor attempt at lightening the mood.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” James whispered, a regretful look on his face. “I’ve been acting like a downright arse. It’s not even your fault but I took it out on you. I know I shouldn’t have but I didn’t know what else to do. I thought that this was the better option than telling you….”

He trailed off at the end of his rant, eyes widening as he realized what he’d accidentally said.

“Tell me what?”

James shifted his eyes away from you.

“Tell me what James?” you persisted.

James sighed, his hands moving to grab yours. He watched your hands in his, playing around with them as you waited patiently for him to speak.

“I li- no, I love you. And I think maybe I always have. That’s why I’ve been pulling away. I thought if I distanced myself then these feelings would disappear, but they haven’t. If anything, they’ve grown. It feels like my chest is about to burst open from the amount of love I feel for you, showering the world around me in sunshine, flowers and music. And I know you don’t feel the same and that’s fine. I just don’t want this to ruin our friendship, we’ve known each other literally all out lives and I can’t bear to lose you. You mean too much to me,” he paused taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have treated you that way. You don’t deserve it. I’ll do anything, anything, to make it up to you.”

You smiled at him sadly, “You’re right. I don’t deserve that, but I understand. I understand why you did what you did. I think I would’ve ended up doing the same thing soon if I didn’t get a clue that you felt the same.”

James head snapped up, stunned. “Did you just-? You mean to tell me you-?”

You giggled at his fumbling, nodding your head. James did not waste any more time, pulling you flush against him, his hands wound up around your waist. Your lips were barely a centimeter apart, his breath fanning your face sending shivers down your spine. His hazel eyes searched yours seeking permission. You answered his question by pressing your lips against his, your eyes shutting in response. Your lips moved against his surprisingly soft lips; he tasted like heaven, the scent of polish and butterbeer overwhelming your senses. You sighed against his lips in happiness, pulling away. Your eyes remained closed as your forehead rested against James’, giving yourself some time to catch up with what had happened. James began to chuckle causing you to start to giggle as well. You opened your eyes and burst out laughing as soon as you looked upon each other.

Once you started to calm down, his eyes connecting to yours, “I love you,” James whispered, a love-sick look in his eyes.

“I love you too.”

400 followers celebration

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latetaektalk · 4 years

Text

how to love | lmk, wyh [1]

“being born without a soulmate doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love. it just means that nobody is going to fall in love with you. and so, you have made your peace with the fact that your best friend, mark, is never going to love you the way you want him to. but when you are forced to go to a support group for people without soulmates and a certain wong yukhei, your support group partner or what you prefer to call him your sponsor, stumbles into your life, your whole world is turned upside down.”

genre: soulmate!au, love triangle! au, support group! au, unrequited feelings! au, in love with your best friend! au, fluff, angst

pairing: mark x reader, yukhei x reader

word count: 9.863

warnings: cursing,

playlist: falling in love at a coffee shop - landon pigg, sunkissed - khai dreams, a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be - jess benko

a/n: this took too long to finish, but the first chapter is finally here! this chapter kinda feels more like a prologue in my opinion, but at the same time, it’s not one? anyway, i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed working on this and writing it.

You heard Mark before you saw him. He had always walked a little too loudly, had always stepped with a little more weight than necessary. It was one of the little things about him that had never changed over the years, had never changed over your nine year old friendship, and you didn’t want it to. By now, you were used to it, in fact, you were so used to hearing his heavy steps that you could identify him simply by the way he walked.

So, when you heard the heavy steps from outside, you turned around and looked out of the big window. Your eyes followed Mark as he walked up that little path to your house. You watched him climb up the handful of stars to your front door with his hand running through his hair.

And as much as you didn’t want it to, your heart skipped a beat, skipped a beat not only because Mark looked absolutely beautiful, but also because he was here, for some reason. You hadn’t made any plans, but here he was, about to show up unannounced at your doorstep.

This wasn’t new. Both of you had done this more times than you should have, had dropped by out of the blue before, but it had been a while since you two had last done it.

So, yes, you did get a little too excited when you heard his heavy steps, did snap your head around a little faster than usual, did feel your heart thump in your chest a little harder.

And you wanted to roll your eyes at yourself because you had seen Mark this morning, had sat next to and talked to him in class a couple of hours ago, but this was different. You just couldn’t help and interpret a little more into this, into this visit.

You knew you shouldn’t, knew you shouldn’t because not only was Mark your best friend but also because unlike you, there was a little bit of black covering his wrist.

Unlike you, he had a soulmate, waiting for him.

And just as Mark was about to ring the bell, his gaze wandered, and before you could look away, his eyes had landed on you. Both of you stared at each other through the window, grinning. His arm returned to his side again and immediately, you knew what that meant.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket, and stood up from your couch to shuffle out of your living room. When you opened your front door, both of you just looked at each other again, silently and with grins adorning your lips.

In those seconds of silence, it felt like it was just you and him in this world, felt like everything revolved around you two and you two only. It was one of those moments you two would share every now and then, one of those moments that had your heart beating a little too quickly and the butterflies spread their wings in hope, one of those precious moments that you wished for to go on forever and ever, one of those moments that belonged to you two, was for you two and you two only.

One of your moments.

“Are you going out, honey?”

Your grin disappeared when you heard her voice, and you turned around to look at your mother. She still had the apron tied around her waist and a ladle in her hand. It was obvious that she had rushed out of the kitchen when she had heard the front door click open.

“Mum,” you sighed.

“Yeah, we’re going out.”

“Oh, I didn’t see you there, Mark,” your mother said and a smile tugged on the corners of her lips when her eyes landed on him.

“We are?” you asked and turned back around. Mark smiled at you and nodded at your question, eliciting only a frown from you. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“Well,” Mark hummed, pausing for a second, “you wanna go out then?”

You opened your mouth to decline because now, you had to, but Mark was quick to cut in again.

“I found a venue.”

Your eyes grew big and you needed a second to process his words, register them.

“Wait, seriously?”

Mark grinned at your words, and you forgot all about how you had to decline his offer to go out. A smile started to tug on your lips and it grew a little more when he nodded at you.

“Where-”

“A venue?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Why do you two need-”

“It’s nothing,” you said and turned to your mother just in time to see her whole face fall a little. Your heart ached and cracked in your chest a little bit when you saw it. A part of you wanted to explain yourself, tell her why you needed a venue, but another part very much didn’t want to do that.

“We’re throwing Jaemin a surprise birthday party,” Mark explained, and you looked back at him, miffed just the tiniest bit, but he didn’t acknowledge you at all.

“I didn’t know that,” your mother said and Mark and you locked eyes now. He gave you a look, a look you had been on the receiving end of for some time now. You should be used to it by now and to a certain extent you were, but at the same time, you were very much not. It still bothered you, still had your teeth grinding.

“When did you two start to plan-”

“I’ll tell you all about it later, yeah, mum?” you asked and tried your hardest to keep your tone levelled and neutral. You turned your head to your mother again. She looked at you before her gaze wandered to Mark for a few seconds and ultimately, back to you.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Over dinner, maybe? Your father’s getting off work early today,” your mother smiled with a tilt of her head, and you knew exactly what she was thinking right now, hoping for.

If you were completely honest, you wanted to say no, wanted to say no because having dinner meant everything was normal when it was not, when it hadn’t been for too long now.

“Yeah, sounds-” you sighed a little, “good.”

Your mother beamed at your answer, and you pressed your lips into a thin line, eyes finding the floor.

“Promise me?”

You could feel a lump grow in your throat and Mark staring holes into you right, ready to jump in if you were to say the wrong thing.

“Yeah, sure,” you mumbled, but your mother heard it.

“Great,” she said with the biggest grin, and your heart tightened in your chest. “I’m gonna go back into the kitchen again. You two be careful, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. There’s no need to worry,” Mark called out as your mother made her way to the kitchen again, steps quiet and delicate.

Your eyes locked with Mark’s and you raised your brows at him, a tiny smile pulling on the corners of your lips.

“‘Yeah, of course. There’s no need to worry.’,” you teased with a slight scoff and earned yourself an eye roll from Mark, but you could see the smile tugging on the corners of his lips too.

“Just shut up.”

You didn’t bother to say anything more, and yanked on your cardigan that you had always hanging next to the front door. You slipped into it and your loosely tied sneaker before grabbing your keys from their hook and letting them slide into your pocket.

You looked around one more time, thinking for a moment if you needed anything else. When you thought you were ready to go, you clapped your hands together.

“Let’s go,” you said and you were about to push past Mark, but he stopped you and held you back.

“Are you sure you wanna go out like that?” he asked with a slight edge swinging in his voice, and you raised your brows at him before looking down at yourself.

You were wearing an old T-shirt you had stolen from your father a long time ago. There used to be a very obvious stain of ketchup in the middle of it, but after many rounds of laundry it had grown so washed out that it wasn't noticeable anymore. Black shorts served as your bottoms and unlike your T-shirt, you had only bought them last summer. If anything, they were boring.

Did you look glamorous? No, by no means. In fact, you looked a little messy and maybe too comfortable, but you didn’t see a problem with it. Mark was as dressed up (or, well, not) as you.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” you asked and looked back up at Mark. He stammered a little, and you only raised your brows more at his silence, waiting for an answer.

“I-” Mark didn’t finish his sentence which was for the best because slowly you were getting offended. He was quick to pick up on that, and closed his mouth before shaking his head and offering you a smile. “Nothing. It’s completely fine. Let’s just go.”

For a short moment, you contemplated confronting Mark on it, contemplated asking him why he cared about the way you dressed all of a sudden when he had never before, but you decided against it and shrugged it all off.

“Going out. Bye,” you called out over your shoulder, but you didn’t wait for a response nor did you want one. The front door fell shut behind you, and when you pushed past Mark this time, he allowed you.

Your eyes landed on his old and cheap black car he had bought from his parents last summer. He had parked it across the street, and without needing to be told to, you walked over to it. It was then—now that you were outside of the comfort of your home—that you noticed how bright the sun was shining today.

You squinted as you crossed the street and heavy steps echoed behind you. Mark’s car sputtered to life when he unlocked it, and you were about to grab the door, but Mark was a little quicker than you and held it open for you.

“What a gentleman,” you grinned and this time Mark couldn’t hide his smile and let it spill free, but he still rolled his eyes at you. Both of you chuckled a little bit, sharing a look for a moment. When you bent down to crawl inside the car, Mark made sure to put his hand over your head, stopping you from hitting it on the roof of his old car.

Even though you were convinced that he only did it because he didn’t want you to dent his car, your heart still began racing. You wanted for it to stop, stop being so ridiculous, but you had lost control over your heart a long time ago.

Mark closed the door, and walked around his car. In those few seconds of silence (well, as silent as it could get with Mark’s heavy steps outside), you could feel your heart grow a little more frantic, could feel your cheeks warm up a little too much, could feel your hands start to quiver a little more.

Even though you were used to it by now, used to the effect Mark had on you, you did feel yourself panic a little, panic at the warmth and love blooming in your chest for your best friend, for someone who was never going to feel the same way.

When Mark opened the door and slid into his seat with a heavy sigh, you busied yourself by fiddling with the seatbelt, strapping it across your body.

“Where are we going? Where’s that venue?” you asked in an attempt to forget all about it, in an attempt to calm yourself down and think about something else. The words came out pitchy, pitchier than you liked, but once more, Mark didn’t notice.

“Oh,” he hummed before buckling up as well and putting the keys into the ignition. He chuckled a little to himself before glancing your way for a second.

“Uh, that’s gonna be a surprise.”

You contorted your face at his words because if you were honest, you didn’t like the idea of a surprise. You liked to know what was happening, liked to be able to be in control of any situation. And right now, that control was slipping further and further out of reach.

“Why?” you asked and your voice was still pitchy, too pitchy. A frown etched into your features and you watched Mark press his lips into a thin line.

“Why not?” he said and shrugged a little before pulling out of the curb. “Not like you would know where it is anyway. Your navigational skills still suck.”

You scoffed at Mark’s words and lightly hit him, not appreciating his words at all even if they were true.

“That’s a rude thing to-”

“It’s true, Y/N,” Mark laughed before giving you a look. “You know it is.”

You stared at him, and you wanted to retort, wanted to tell him that he was wrong and that your navigational skills were better than any GPS, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say that, couldn’t bring yourself to lie like that.

“Whatever.”

Mark laughed.

Even though Mark was clearly laughing at you, you could only focus on how beautiful his laugh was, focus on the way his eyes creased into half-moons, focus on his shaking shoulders as the laugh rippled through his entire chest.

A smile pulled on the corners of your lips and your whole gaze softened as you watched him continue laughing. You didn’t care that it was at your expense, didn’t care that you were the butt of the joke. You were gladly the butt of the joke as long as it meant that you could hear Mark laugh forever.

And, of course, your heart quickened in your chest. It quickened so suddenly that you forgot about your conversation with Mark, forgot to press on and demand for answers. Instead, you started to fiddle with the AC because your cheeks were heating up, heating up too much.

Maybe it was because it was summer and you had always had a tendency to overheat or maybe it was because you were wearing a cardigan on seemingly the hottest day of the year or maybe it was because your heart was racing in your chest like it was going to pierce through your chest, but whatever it was, it was getting too hot for you in here.

And, again, maybe it was your thumping heart or maybe it was something else, but you were struggling with the AC, and as much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t. Mark’s laugh died down and he glanced your way instead. You hated it, hated that he was looking at you because it only made you fiddle more with it, made your heart beat even quicker and your palms sweatier.

“Do you need-”

“I can do it,” you pressed through gritted teeth and leaned forward. It was stupid, stupid that you were struggling with the AC when you had never before, when you had turned it on and off hundreds of times before, but right now, it seemed impossible.

When you finally managed to get it together and get the AC going, you leaned back into your seat. Your hands gripped around your seatbelt like your life depended on it, like if you didn’t, you would fly out of Mark's car.

The cold air hit you in the face, but it didn’t do anything to cool you down, at least you didn’t feel like it did anything. Your cheeks were still as hot, still burning and Mark was to blame, again.

Silence settled between you two for a little, and you were already counting down the seconds until Mark was going to make fun of you because he was never going to pass up on this chance. And you were right, of course.

“That took incredibly long.”

Mark bit on his bottom lip to hide away the smile, but he ultimately failed, and you had a suspicion he hadn’t tried very hard.

You rolled your eyes at him, and twisted yourself away from him, not wanting to see that stupid grin plastered on his face. You knew if the roles were reversed, you would do the exact same thing, would tease him as well, but it didn’t mean that it was any less embarrassing and annoying when Mark did it to you.

“I mean, Y/N, seriously. I’m worried. If it takes you this long to figure out an AC, what are you gonna do when we graduate?”

“Like you’re gonna graduate. No way you’re not gonna flunk English,” you scoffed and Mark gasped next to you before shoving you a little, and now you giggled, proud of yourself that you had managed to retort this quickly.

“I’ve been studying,” Mark defended himself, but you were quick to scoff again and shake your head at him.

“Definitely not enough,” you said and Mark gasped once more before tucking his lip between his teeth and gnawing on it as he tried to think of something to say.

“I’m trying,” he mumbled like a small child and you put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it as you started laughing uncontrollably.

Your laugh filled up the whole air, filled up the car and you could see Mark try to act offended by your words, but he couldn't bite away the laugh for long.

You weren’t sure if he was laughing because he could see the humour of the whole situation or because your laugh was contagious, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the fact that he was laughing with you, that he was filling up the air with laughter with you.

Mark had always laughed easily. Laughing was his forte, a speciality of his, one of his many strengths. Something about his laugh, about the genuineness and authenticity of it, about the way he laughed, was mesmerising, addicting.

So, seeing and hearing him laugh right now had warmth spreading through your chest and your heart hammering.

You loved Mark’s laugh, almost more than you loved him.

“Okay, wait, what do you think of this one?”

You pressed play, and after a few seconds, you were met with a disapproving groan and a scoff.

“Nana is going to straight-up murder you if you put on One Direction on his birthday party,” Mark said as he waited for the traffic light to turn green.

“‘What Makes You Beautiful’ transcends One Direction. Everybody loves it,” you argued, but Mark scoffed once more before hitting the gas pedal again as the traffic light turned green.

“Okay, go ahead, Y/N. Play One Direction on Nana’s birthday and let’s see if he’ll kill you or not,” Mark challenged and glanced at you before turning the corner.

“I’m literally throwing him a surprise birthday party. He’s not gonna kill me,” you said and increased the volume of your phone, mouthing along because that song slapped like no other.

“We.”

You looked at Mark and lowered the volume a little to hear him better.

“We are throwing him a surprise birthday party,” he corrected and you rolled your eyes before stopping the song and typing in a new one.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” you mumbled and pressed play again before Mark could correct you once more. “How about this song? If you don’t like this, we shouldn’t do this at all anymore. Probably should stop being friends altogether then.”

‘I Want It That Way’ by the Backstreet Boys started blasting and immediately, you could see Mark frown and shake his head at your choice.

“You're kidding, right?”

“It’s old, Y/N,” Mark argued and you furrowed your brows at him, scoffing.

“It’s not that old and why does it matter anyway?” you said and Mark kept shaking his head at you, but as he was about to continue, the chorus hit and you had to do what everybody had to do if the chorus of ‘I Want It That Way’ by the Backstreet Boys hit.

“Tell me why. Ain't nothin' but a heartache. Tell me why. Ain't nothin' but a mistake,” you sang in your best voice, and Mark could only stare at you, smiling at you the tiniest bit as you put on a whole show for him.

“Am I on fire? Your one desire. Yes I know, it's too- wait, when did we park?” you interrupted yourself as you noticed Mark just sitting there, staring at you. You stopped the song and looked out the window to realise that you were parked.

“A little while now. Also, it’s ‘Am I your fire?’ not ‘Am I on fire?’,” Mark said and your face contorted in confusion.

“Wait, I thought the song was old. Why do you know the lyrics then? And how did I not notice earlier?” you asked and looked around, but you didn’t recognise anything, Mark was right (for once), your navigational skills were as bad, as bad as his English skills one might say.

“My mother. She’s a Backstreet Boy-er or whatever you call their fans. She used to blast their music when I was young,” Mark explained with a slight shrug and red cheeks. “And we’ve been parked for a little while now. Guess you were too busy screeching to-”

You hit Mark again, harder this time, but it did nothing because he could only smirk at you and chuckle to himself.

“You’re mean,” you hissed before looking around again like you would recognise any of the buildings now, but, of course, you didn’t. “Where are we? And where’s the venue?”

You twisted around to find the venue Mark had told you about, but instead of finding a venue, your eyes landed on a church, a church you had seen before. A pit formed inside your gut at the sight of it, and you knew right away that something was off, but you weren’t sure what exactly was off.

When you snapped your head around, Mark’s smirk was gone and he started shifting away from you. Without needing him to say it, you knew Mark had lied to you, knew he hadn’t taken you out to inspect a venue for Jaemin’s birthday party.

It took you rather long to realise where you were, but when you realised it, when it registered in your mind where you were, your reaction was immediate.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

It was now that you spotted the bench you had stared at three weeks ago, had stared at before you had gotten so sick of your mother talking that you had walked into that church right behind you and attended your first support group meeting.

“Mark, you better say sike right fucking now,” you demanded and glared at him, but he just stared at his hands and pressed his lips into a thin line. You waited, waited for him to start laughing at you and tell you that this was all a bad joke, yell ‘sike’ into your face, but when he didn’t, it dawned on you that this was real.

Your back hit your seat with a little too much force, but you didn’t notice or care. Anger bubbled up inside you, and you huffed and puffed before you stared at the bench like you had done so three weeks ago. You needed something else to look at because glancing at Mark alone had the blood in your veins cooking.

Mark gave you a moment to process everything, but he couldn’t help himself but look over to you and eye you from head to toe. You were staring out of the window with your arms locked in front of your chest and your knee bobbing up and down like a yoyo. You were like a ticking time bomb, about to blow up into Mark's face.

“So, you didn’t find a venue then?” you spat out before finally turning your gaze to Mark and fixing him with a glare that had him swallowing heavily.

“No, I did find, uh, a venue,” Mark mumbled. “I just lied about, you know, taking you there.”

You let out a long breath through your nose and shook your head at Mark’s words. The anger evaporated in your veins into something else, into something worse, into something indescribable.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Mark,” you grunted and Mark looked at his hands as he tried to find the words to explain himself, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? That’s- Do you-”

You pressed your lips together as you tried to figure out what exactly you wanted to say, but you were having a hard time with your heart beating out of your chest and your blood boiling in your veins.

“Why would you do something like that?” you asked through gritted teeth. “My mother asked you to do this, didn’t she? Take me here and convince me to go, right? I fucking knew that she wouldn’t give up this easily.”

You shook your head at the thought of it, of your mother going to Mark and asking him to take you here, take you to the support group she had signed you up for a couple of weeks ago without telling you. Your mother was very insistent, you knew that by experience, but you really didn’t think she would ever dare to drag Mark into all of this mess—not to mention that he would not only allow himself to be dragged into it and also take her side on top of that.

“Is it so hard to respect my decision not to go? I don’t need- I hate this.”

A heavy sigh slipped past your lips, and you finally tore your gaze away from Mark. You let it travel as the anger continued to cook inside you like an overflowing pot of pasta, hot and without care.

“Whose side are you on?” you asked and snapped your eyes back to Mark. He looked at you with his mouth slightly open, ready to cut in, but you didn’t want to hear it right now. “I thought we are friends- best friends. I thought you’re on my side with this. I thought I could trust you-

“And you can and we-”

“You know how much I fucking hate this-”

“I know-”

“No, obviously you don’t and obviously I can’t,” you spat out before fully turning your body to Mark. “Because if you did, if you did know how much I fucking hate this and if I could trust you, we wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t even have done this,” you pointed all around you, “in the first place. We wouldn’t be here at all.”

Your back hit your seat again and for a while, you were silent, but it was not even close to enough time for Mark to process your words. So, when you started again, he was still very overwhelmed, almost too overwhelmed to listen.

“I- I don’t want this and you know that. You know that very well, but that doesn’t matter to you, right? It doesn’t matter what I want or what I don’t want because as long as you- you get to do your shit and as long as you’re happy or whatever. It doesn’t matter whether I am happy or-”

“Stop.”

The rest of your sentence died on the tip of your tongue when Mark suddenly took hold of your shoulders and gave you a look that had your lips pressing together.

“Y/N, just listen,” Mark said and eyed you like he was ready for you to swat his hands away and keep cursing at him until you run out of breath. After a while, certain that you weren’t going to do that, Mark sighed once more and licked his lips, preparing himself to speak.

“You’re upset and you’ve got every right to be,” Mark started, fingers squeezing your shoulders a little more as he searched for the right words. “I lied to you and- I’m sorry for that.”

Mark licked his lips again, and his gaze danced all over your face, never meeting your eyes though.

“And please- don’t take this the wrong way. The lying, I mean. And, of course, it does matter what you want. Your feelings matter. You matter.”

A heavy sigh fell from Mark’s lips and he was wrecking his brain right now. Mark was balancing a very thin line right now, and he had to find the right words because if he didn’t, you would shut down, turn your back to him and not talk to him anymore, not to mention listen to a single word of his.

“I realise that you don’t want to be here, and I know how much you hated going the first time,” Mark started and you contorted your face when he reminded you of the first and only time you had gone to that shitty support group.

“I- I get it. I get why you’re so upset.”

Mark licked his lips, thinking hard as to how to word this.

“I get how you must feel like without a-”

“Do you, though?” you asked with squinted eyes and a huff. You swept Mark’s hands off of your shoulder and the words spilled out of you without a second thought.

“Do you really get what it’s like to have your mother constantly try to ‘fix you’ and sign you up for shit you don’t want to go to all your life because you don’t have a soulmate? Do you really get what it’s like to constantly do whatever your parents, your friends, fucking everybody wants from you to please them? Even though you’re unhappy doing it? Do you really get what it’s like to have to tell others- strangers that you don’t have a soulmate and be met with this stupid look? With this weird and awful smile? Do you really get what it’s like to see everybody around you find their soulmates?

“Do you really get what it’s like to not have a soulmate and to know that you’re destined to be alone forever?”

Mark couldn’t meet your gaze and his fingers knotted together into a mess. You could feel your anger ease away and turn into something bitter, into pain and agony, into something much more tortured.

Your eyes landed on Mark’s left wrist, and tears blurred your vision when you stared at that little bit of black covering it, at Mark’s soulmate tattoo. Almost automatically your gaze shifted to your own wrist, and you could feel your heart clench in your chest upon seeing it.

Because it was supposed to be covered in a little bit of black too, have one too, a soulmate tattoo.

But it didn’t, it was empty, naked and that was your bitter reality, your bitter truth.

By now you could draw Mark’s soulmate tattoo with your eyes closed, could draw it in your sleep if you had to. And you had, had drawn it on yourself without a second thought before, had drawn it on yourself more times than you liked to admit, more times than you should have.

The black ink wrapped around almost Mark’s entire wrist and highlighted his sunkissed skin in a way you never thought black could. Never had black looked better, prettier. Nothing could compare to the black, not even the golden flush it was going to take up once Mark found the one for him, his other half, his soulmate.

There were no edges or harsh lines, nothing but corners and soft strokes. The tattoo lay in an almost effortless fashion on his skin. It was almost like it was made for him and him only, and it was. Destiny had picked it out for him, but hadn’t picked out one for you, not to mention the one matching Mark’s. It was the only soulmate tattoo you wouldn’t mind having, the only one you desired to have, the only one you truly dreaded to see flush golden one day.

“Do you really get what it’s like to know that no one will ever love you back in the way you want them to?”

The question came out in a broken whisper, quiet. It was almost like you didn’t want Mark to hear it, and a part of you didn’t, didn’t want him to hear it and see you staring at his soulmate tattoo, but Mark, once again, didn’t notice. He was never one to notice anything. He had never noticed your staring before, never noticed your beating heart for him, never noticed your feelings.

You shook your head and blinked away the tears. You swallowed the confession that had been sitting on the tip of your tongue ever since you two had been only eight, ever since you had first realised what your thumping heart and your quivering knees meant, ever since you had first laid eyes on Mark.

There was this gnawing silence, this moment where Mark stared at his hands while you grappled for air, grappled for your heart back, back from Mark’s suffocating clutch.

“Look, Y/N,” Mark started and his voice matched yours, weak and quiet. “I- You’re right. I do not get it and quite frankly, I never will. And I’m sorry that I said I did.”

Slowly Mark’s gaze travelled into your direction, but he still didn’t dare to raise his head and lock eyes with you.

“But,” you watched Mark swallow and pause as he tried to figure out the best way to word all of this, not wanting to mess this up once more, “your mother, she- she just wants you to be happy.”

“And I know that,” you said,and all of the bite and anger was now gone from your voice. With delicate fingers, you tucked a strand behind your ear, and with your heels you tried to dig yourself a hole into the floor, hoping it would swallow you. “But it’s the fact that she assumes that I am unhappy because I don’t have a soulmate that makes me unhappy.”

“Well, I mean,” Mark sighed and you watched the sweat collect on the nape of his neck, the harsh afternoon sun burning down on him, and you even with the AC blasting. “Can you blame her though? You’ve been spending all your days in your bedroom, lying in bed and doing essentially nothing-”

“I hang out with you and the others,” you corrected and for the first time in a while, Mark met your gaze and when he did, he had this look on his face that had you almost rolling your eyes.

“Do you?” Mark questioned and you opened your mouth to retort, but he was quick to continue. “First of all, you only ever hang out with the others at school. I’m the only one you spend your time outside of school. Second of all, we hang out a lot less than we used to and third of all, we rarely do anything. Remember how we used to, like, go out when we met up? Now we spend all day in your room and do nothing-”

“You act like you don’t enjoy it,” you scoffed and annoyance swung in your voice, but it didn’t even come close to matching the annoyance you had felt minutes before. “And it’s not my fault that my mother doesn’t know that I hang out with the others too.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Mark said and held up his hand between you, almost like he was scared you were going to blow up again. “I know it’s not your fault and you know I enjoy doing nothing with you, but your mother- she doesn’t see it that way. All she sees is you holing yourself up in your room and whenever I—seemingly the only person you ever hang out with—come around, you hole yourself up with me.”

You stared at Mark and you didn’t want to admit it, but you had lost this battle. You had nothing more to say and he knew it, but even so, you tried to figure out something to say, racked your brain like maybe if you dug deep enough, you could find a clever retort.

“I mean when was the last time you went outside?”

Just as you were about to reply, Mark shoved his finger into your face.

“And going to school doesn’t count.”

You closed your mouth and let out a grumble, and before you could say something, he spoke up again,

“Neither does this.”

You sighed and tore your gaze away, and with that Mark knew you were admitting defeat to him. But instead of letting a satisfied and smug grin spread across his lips, he placed his hand on yours and tugged on it.

Mark was completely unaware of the fact that this simple gesture had your heart stopping in your chest in the most painful way, and you wanted to tell him to stop, wanted to rip your hand away, but you were too weak to. All you could do was hope and pray that your reddening cheeks were going to be hidden by the afternoon heat.

“She is worried about you, Y/N,” Mark said and his fingers curled around yours, tightening as he continued, and you could barely hear him over your thumping heart.

“It’s why I agreed to do this. She’s incredibly worried about you and sure, she has always been, but lately—and with that I mean the past few years—things have been different. You have to admit that your relationship with your parents, especially with your mother, isn’t what it used to be. And, yes, I know you’ve got very valid reasons for that, but you should have been there when she pulled me aside and asked me to take you here. It’s, like- I can’t even describe it, Y/N.”

You knew Mark wasn’t doing it on purpose, wasn’t deliberately guilt-tripping you or anything, but the pit in your stomach doubled in size. Guil started to gnaw and tug on your heart in the most sickening ways, and you grimaced as you let the words run through your mind. Maybe you had been a little hard on your parents, especially your mother, but it wasn't like you didn't have your reasons.

When Mark squeezed your hand tighter, you tore your gaze away and looked out the window, staring at the bench like you had done so three weeks ago before speaking up again.

“I don’t wanna-”

“Why not?”

You sighed and leaned back, pulling your hand from Mark. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and kept your gaze fixed on the bench.

“Because I already have. I have tried going once already and- I hated it. It’s awful, the worst,” you explained and shook your head. “It’s a support group, but it feels more like a circle jerk than anything else.”

You stayed silent for a little before continuing again,

“The shit they say is so incredibly sappy and depressing and you know exactly that this is why I-”

“It’s why you don’t watch films or TV,” Mark completed your sentence, and you hummed, nodding, but he could only roll his eyes at you. “Look, yeah, maybe it’s a circle jerk, but, like, just go.”

Mark grimaced at his own words and he knew that they were not convincing at all, but it was difficult to come up with another reason.

“Your mother, she- do it for her,” Mark elaborated and took hold of your hand again, squeezing it. “She’s so worried about you and I know you don’t wanna do it, but do you seriously think that she’s going to let this go if you don’t go? If you don’t go after I took you here?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and groaning. Because Mark was right, unfortunately. Your mother wasn’t going to let this go because she rarely ever let something slide, let something slide concerning you.

“I’m not saying you definitely have to go or anything, but if you don’t, your mother is only gonna get more worried and who knows what she’ll do next. Maybe she’ll take you to therapy the next time,” Mark said and you groaned.

You let the words sink in and pursed your lips as you thought about them, as you let them run through your mind over and over again. They played over and over again, and you wished they wouldn’t because the longer you listened to them, the longer you thought about them, you started to seriously think about them, which made dismissing them harder.

“Just, I don’t know, go at least ten times-”

“Ten times?” you blurted out and pulled your hand away, but Mark was quick to tighten his grasp.

“Yes, ten times-”

“Five.”

“Seven.”

You glared at Mark and you had to bite your tongue to stop the curses from spilling. To your surprise and dismay, he didn’t give up. Usually, Mark always gave in, always let you have your way, but today was different, today he was different, today he was more determined than you had ever seen him before.

“Seven times and then you can call it quits, can tell your mother that you tried this again, but it doesn’t suit you or help you or whatever bullshit excuse you can think of.”

Maybe it was because you wanted to escape the harsh afternoon sun or maybe it was because you always felt this urge to please everyone even if it made you unhappy or maybe it was because Mark was asking you to go and sending your heart in a frenzy by holding and squeezing your hand like that, but you let out a sigh.

“You are gonna drive and pick me up every single time.”

Mark smiled at you.

You tried your best to be quiet when you stepped inside, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself, but you couldn’t stop the heavy sigh from escaping you. Your arms tightened around your chest, and you puckered your forehead when you realised that nothing had changed over the past three weeks.

The room was still too big for this. It was mostly empty except for the people seated in a circle in the middle of it and the two wooden tables pushed into the right corner of it. Dixie cups and day-old snacks were arranged on them, untouched, and you didn't want to think about how stale they had to be by now. And for some reason, the room still felt gloomy and dark even with the big windows.

“Yeah, that’s a good-”

The heavy door clicked shut behind you, alerting everybody of your presence. The sound echoed on the walls and bounced around like a siren. Everybody turned their head to you, and you could feel your cheeks flush red.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and lowered your gaze, your legs coming to a still.

“Y/N, what a nice surprise,” Eunjung, the support group leader, called out with a warm smile.

“I missed my bus,” you offered up as an excuse even and shrugged. Your arms tightened around your chest like you were scared that if you didn’t, your heart was going to leap out and tell everybody that you were lying.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re here.”

We.

“We were actually going to take a break in five. How about we take it now? Fifteen minutes,” Eunjung said, and before you could comprehend what was happening, everybody was getting up and either walking out or switching places to talk to each other.

You stood frozen as pairs of people shuffled past you and you were left staring ahead of you as Eunjung approached you with her warm and big smile. And you almost told her not to, not to smile at you like that because it was awful, too warm and too big.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure if she did it on purpose or not, but Eunjung spoke in this terrible tone. Every word of hers was just laced with it. You couldn’t quite describe it, but it left a bitter taste on your tongue. It was almost like she was patronising you.

Her hands landed on your wrists, and before you could protest and rip your hands away, she had uncrossed your arms. You cringed a little when you heard her cheap metal bracelets rattle as she took your hands into hers.

“I just wanted to tell you that we are genuinely happy that you’re here.”

We.

“We missed you.”

We.

“It’s really nice to see you again. We thought we weren’t gonna anymore.”

We.

God, you hated that ‘we’ talk. It had your eyes rolling and the corners of your lips turning inwards. It was infuriating, only for show anyway.

Why did people talk like that, talk like they knew you, talk like you were friends or even family?

“Please, see this here as a safe space, a safe haven. You can share any of your concerns and worries here without any judgement whatsoever. There’s really-”

“Hey, Eunjung, I think someone needs you over there.”

Your eyes landed on Yukhei when he spoke up, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at Eunjung and giving her a smile as he pointed into the hallway.

“I heard someone call for you.”

“Oh,” Eunjung said before turning her gaze to you and squeezing your hands. “I’m gonna go and check this out, but, again, Y/N, I want you to know that we are happy that you’re here again and that you’re very much welcomed here.”

We.

Again.

You knew you should smile back, knew it was the right and polite thing to do, but you didn’t care about that, didn’t care about being polite anymore. You didn’t want to smile at Eunjung, so you didn’t even as she flashed you one of her warm and big ones.

She left a second later, bracelets rattling as she walked past you, and you could feel your shoulders sink and your whole body relax the moment she was gone. But a second later, he spoke up again and had the hair at the back of your neck raising again.

“You missed your bus?”

You turned around at his question and crossed your arms in front of your chest again. Yukhei stood there with his hands shoved in his hoodie, and you frowned, not understanding how he could walk around in a hoodie on this day when the sun was shining so bright.

“Yeah,” you breathed out even though you had a hunch that Yukhei knew you were lying.

“I saw you sitting in the car.”

You rolled your eyes at him and slightly turned away from him because, of course, he had seen you. A part of you had known that his question was a trap, but you had thought that it might be wrong.

“Okay, great. What do you want from me now? Do you want me to get you a cookie for catching me in a lie?” you said and Yukhei grinned in a way that had your blood boiling. His grin wasn’t filled with any smugness or arrogance, no, it was warm and big and friendly, but just something about it, about him, rubbed you the wrong way, had your gut twisting into a knot.

“No, I don’t want anything,” Yukhei said and shook his head.

“Why did you ask then?” you grumbled with a slight scoff and let your gaze travel to the side.

“I just wanted to see if you were going to lie to me or not,” he explained with a shrug and you frowned at his words. “You know, just how you lied to me about your number.”

You scoffed and nodded to yourself. Of course, that was what this was about. If you were completely honest, you had forgotten that you had given him a fake number, had erased that from your memory, repressed it.

“Oh, okay, I get it now,” you said and tightened your arms around your chest, hugging yourself a little more. “This is about me giving you a fake number.”

“Yes, of course, this is about you giving me a fake number,” Yukhei almost laughed, clearly amused with this whole situation and slid his hands out of his hoodie to point at himself.

“You’re supposed to communicate with me. Have you forgotten that I’m your support group partner?”

“Sponsor,” you corrected and raised your finger. “And like I’ve told you three weeks ago, I don’t need that. I’m fine by myself.”

“She says and doesn’t come to any meetings for three weeks,” Yukhei smiled and you furrowed your brows at him, annoyance building up inside you.

“Me not coming to any meetings has nothing to do with me needing a sponsor, but has everything to do with me not wanting to come. Talking to you or whatever wouldn’t change anything about that,” you said with a frown and you expected him to be annoyed with you, expected him to be just a little bit irritated by your behaviour and words, but, Yukhei let out a chuckle at your words.

“What’s so funny?” you asked and your frown deepened. Your annoyance turned into irritation as Yukhei gave you one of his half smiles, one of his infuriating half smiles.

“Because it’s obvious that you don’t get it,” he explained and you blinked at him. “It’s obvious that you do, in fact, need a support group par-”

“Sponsor.”

“I’m never calling myself your ‘sponsor’, Y/N,” Yukhei retorted with his awful half smile and you wanted to tell him to stop smiling at you. “I’m not your ‘sponsor’, but your-”

“You’ve been attending this support group longer than I have, are the person I should turn to whenever I have any problems concerning all of this and are the person that’s supposed to hold me accountable, right?” you asked with a head tilt.

“Yes, but-”

“So, you’re my sponsor,” you concluded and Yukhei stared at you before shaking his head at you.

“Y/N, this isn’t an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting-”

“Why does this feel like an AA meeting then?” you asked and Yukhei laughed at your words, shaking his head again before meeting your gaze.

“That sounds more like a you kind of problem,” he said with a slight squint of his eyes and a slight upward quirk of his lips. A small scoff slipped past your lips and your hands tightened into fists.

You knew that, knew that this was more of a you kind of problem and, sure, you might have been well aware of that problem and acknowledged it already, but that didn’t mean that you were fine with Yukhei telling you that.

A part of you wanted to ask Yukhei if he thrived off of annoying you, if he enjoyed it, but you realised that he did when you saw the glint in his eyes and smile.

This was amusing to him, very much so even.

With that fact in mind, and because you didn’t want to entertain this conversation or him any longer,—definitely not because you couldn’t think of anything smart to say anymore—you turned on your heel.

For a second, you were hesitant before you walked up to one of the chairs, deciding to sit down would be the best thing to do now. You wanted to snap your head around when you heard Yukhei chuckle a little more, but you just hurried your steps. To your dismay, Yukhei managed to keep up, easily at that.

You were about to sit down when-

“Jisoo sits there.”

Your eyes locked with his and your jaw locked up when you saw him grinning at you. For a moment, you contemplated sitting down anyway and not letting Yukhei tell you anything, but then you realised that your bad moon didn’t justify taking someone else’s, well, Jisoo’s seat away.

“Fine,” you pressed through gritted teeth and walked up to the next available chair, but once again, Yukhei stopped you.

“Sicheng.”

You groaned and glared at Yukhei, but he kept grinning at you. You could feel other people glancing your direction and if you weren’t so angry, you would be embarrassed, but right now, you could only focus on Yukhei and his stupid face.

“Where can I sit then? Is there a chair for me or not?” you asked with an eye roll and Yukhei’s grin widened at your words before he pointed at a chair across the room. Without another word, you stomped your way to that chair and let yourself fall into it, arms and legs crossed.

Yukhei strode towards you, and you didn’t miss the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, but you acted like you did, like you couldn’t feel his gaze digging into your face. You knew the second you looked at him, you would be met with his stupid grin and you were certain if you saw it one more time, you were going to snap.

When he sat down next to you, you could feel your whole body stiffen. Your nails dug into your palms as you tried to keep your face neutral and the scowl off of it. You didn’t want Yukhei to see how angry he got you, what an effect he had on you, but deep down, you knew you were failing, miserably.

“Isn’t somebody sitting there already?” you spat out, but you didn’t spare him a glance, eyes fixed in front of you.

“Don’t you worry about it,” Yukhei said and you could practically hear his stupid grin.

Your teeth sank into your tongue as you silenced the words that wanted to slip. You wanted to let them out, but you knew better than that, knew that if you said something, this would go on forever and end up with you up the wall.

And for a few seconds, there was silence, but Yukhei, again, never looked away, never took his eyes off of you, and you wished he would, wished he would not only because it was getting weird, but because his staring was getting to you in ways you would never admit out loud.

“You know, people tend to start liking me more after a while.”

You scoffed, but it didn’t discourage Yukhei at all. Of course, it didn’t. Someone like Yukhei could never be discouraged by anything, not even by repeated rejection and failure. You had to admit it was admirable, impressive even, but you wouldn’t tell him that even if there was a gun pointed to your head.

“People say that I’m quite charming.”

“I’m sure people also tell you you’re a very special boy and that there is no one like you out there, too,” you quipped in an attempt to get him to shut up, but to your dismay, Yukhei just laughed at your words.

You watched him laugh before nodding to himself and leaning back to take you all in, get a better view of you. And you rolled your eyes at Yukhei because, god, he was annoying, especially with that grin cemented on his face, that grin that was just as infuriating as his frequent half smiles.

“I like you, Y/N.”

You were rarely ever stunned or speechless not to mention both, but right now, you were just that. The confession was sudden, out of nowhere and while there was a certain sincerity swinging with it, you couldn’t take it seriously.

How could you with Yukhei grinning at you like that?

You were caught off guard. With your mouth agape, you blinked at Yukhei like he had grown a second head. Yukhei’s cheeks didn’t flush red at his own confessions and instead, he looked at you with his head tilted to the side and his lips pulled up into another half smile.

“Okay, break’s over.”

And for the first time, Yukhei took his eyes off of you to look at Eunjung. You expected for Yukhei to get up and go back to his seat as people filtered in and found their respective seats, but he didn’t move a centimetre.

When the last person had sat down, it dawned on you. You wanted to scoff and curse at him, but all you could do was stare at Yukhei.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Yukhei turned his head to you and now flashed you the brightest and most infuriating smirk.

“Is that your-”

“Yes.”

You scoffed and didn't even register people glancing your way. Your eyes stayed locked with Yukhei’s as you stared him down like he would drop dead if you just looked at him long enough. But your glare seemed to do nothing because he kept looking at you like you weren’t glaring at him, like you weren’t wishing for his death with your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N and Yukhei, please stop flirting. Break’s over,” Eunjung said and you could feel the blood rush into your cheeks in an instant.

You had never been called out by anyone before, never by your teachers and definitely never for ‘flirting’, but here you were, sitting in this stupid circle with your face flushing hot after being called out on just that, flirting.

And you knew who was to blame, knew exactly who had done this to you. Because you hadn’t changed, hadn’t picked up ‘flirting’ in the past fifteen minutes. No, it wasn’t you who had ‘flirted’, it had been someone else.

Yukhei.

You tore your gaze away, sticking it to the floor as heat crawled up your neck and your heart thumped louder and louder in your chest. And, of course, Yukhei could only grin..

“Sorry, Eunjung.”

You wanted to say something too, wanted to say that you weren’t flirting with Yukhei and definitely glaring at him instead, but the words wouldn’t slip off your tongue, and you knew that even if they had, they would come out in between coughs and in the form of a whisper.

Your arms tightened in front of your chest, and you watched Eunjung open her mouth and say something, but your mind was too clouded with anger and frustration for you to properly listen to her. Your tumbling heart didn’t make it any easier for you to listen. You couldn't concentrate, not to mention on Eunjung or her words. It was like you were stuck in a silent film, watching people speak to one another, but you couldn't hear a single thing.

But, of course, you still picked up his words, still picked up his words as he leaned into you and whispered them into your ear.

“Is that a ketchup stain on your shirt?”

Wong Yukhei could go eat it.

→ links don’t work, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts/feedback! i’d love to hear it!

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imagineyourself · 4 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet- A Spencer Reid Imagine

Spencer Reid x fem! psych major! reader

A/n: Hi guys, I’ve watched 9 seasons of criminal minds in 2 weeks, so expect a lot of criminal minds stuff coming! Also, kind of want to write a part 2 to this so lmk if you would like that!

Gif is not mine creds to @toyboxboy

Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood and knives

Word count: 2.6k

“The unsub is likely in a position of power, well respected, maybe even admired. He works with young people, probably a teacher or professor. We need to find him, and fast before he kills another young girl.” Rossi spoke to the room of officers. The room disperses to begin searching for the killer, 4 girls are already dead.

“Rossi, I think I found the connection between the girls.” Dr. Spencer Reid turning away from the board with the bodies taped to it and a file in his hand. “They all shared a professor.”

“They all went to different schools, different majors.” Morgan interjects.

“He is a professor at multiple universities, and they’ve all taken a psych class at some point, mostly introductory level. He must have connected with them during that time.” Reid continues.

“Who is it, dammit, Reid?” Hotch said.

“A Professor Deslaurier, professor of psychology, which explains why he was hard to find. He’s one of us. But better than that, I think I know who his next target is.”

*campus cafe around the same time*

“I’m not saying that I’m ready to start dating again, but I would love to see what that barista’s got going on.” My best friend said grabbing her coffee from the counter, winking at the barista drying mugs.

“Oh my god, keep it in your pants, you and Garrett just broke up. Like 2 days ago. You were devastated, remember?” I remind her, gently shoving her with my elbow as we sat at a table by the window.

“His name was Garrett so clearly he isn’t that hard to get over. But anyway what’s up with you relationship wise, any new people?” She presses her lips to her coffee cup, as I pull out my laptop from my bag.

“You and I both know nothing is happening in that department. School and work is taking up all my time, and I can’t help but ruin dates with my charming personality.” I pull up my latest essay for my criminal psychology class, only 5 words on the page: my name, the date, and the class.

“Stop going all psych major on people when you’re on a first date or you’ll be alone forever.” She rolls her eyes at me as she glances out the window. Her eyes squinting in concentration, so I follow her gaze seeing a group of people in FBI uniforms talking to campus security.

“What the hell?” I say watching one of them glance around and look at the campus cafe and nod his head in its direction. The agent made his way over to the shop and steps in looking around, scanning like he was looking for someone. Then his eyes land on me.

He rushes over to the table, but his face and voice remain calm despite the urgency in his walk. “Are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, I am. What’s going on?” I look between the man and Y/B/F/N.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, and I’m going to need you to come with me.” He flashes his badge as fear washes over my face. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.” He smiles as I pack up my stuff, my essay still not begun.

I say goodbye to my friend, and leave with the mysterious Doctor. “So what’s going on and why do you need me? Or better yet where are we going?”

“Good question, do you have an apartment or dorm of some sort where we can go for a while?”

“Yea I have an off campus apartment just up the road. We can spend some time there, but why? Am I like in danger or something?”

“We have reason to believe you’re the killers next target.” He keeps me close as I guide him to my apartment. These are not the circumstances with which I would prefer to have this beautiful doctor be coming with me to my apartment, but it just be like that sometimes.

“Who would want to kill me? Why?” I ask as I approach my apartment door, unlocking it to allow us inside. “And what am I supposed to do to stop it?”

“That’s why I’m here, to protect you in case he comes to harm you, and it’s Professor Deslaurier who is attacking his brightest female students.”

“Hank wouldn’t do that. He was so kind,” I pause thinking about everything I’ve learned in my classes, “and I’m an idiot. He was manipulating me so I would trust him. He knew I was vulnerable and exploited that, and he’s a textbook narcissist.”

“Psych major?” Spencer asks as I sit on my couch with my head in my hands, wrapping my head around the fact that my favourite professor wants to kill me.

“Yeah, so I should have seen the signs. But I guess being a target is what happens when you’re stupid enough to trust the first teacher who approaches you.” I start crying, this sucks. The doctor, Spencer I think he said his name is, hands me a tissue. I take it graciously, a small smile creeps onto my lips at the gesture.

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known he was a crazy serial killer. You were just being a good student, but you said that he approached you?” He sits next to me on the couch letting me lean on him slightly.

“Yeah, he came up to me after a lecture, raving about one of my essays and how my perspective was fascinating and came from a personal place. He basically decoded me from an essay. Where is he now?” I pull myself together enough to sit up, seeing the tear stains on his sweater. “ I’m sorry about your sweater.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles and looks down at the stains I left. “We are trying to locate him now and put him away so he can’t hurt you or anyone else.”

“So what am I supposed to do until he’s caught?”

“Do you have anything here to work on? Homework or test to prepare for? I’m a great study buddy if you need help.” He smiles as if he’s not here to protect me from my crazy killer professor.

“Actually I do have a criminal psychology essay due in like 10 hours.”

“10 hours?! Why have you been putting it off? Unless the topic is something uncomfortable to think about?”

“You said your name was Spencer, right? Is it okay if I call you that?” He nods, still waiting for me to answer the question. “Well, Spencer, the essay is about what would make us snap, or our stressor as you guys call it, and kill people. Like searching through our traumas to see what would be the last straw. It’s not exactly a pleasant thought.”

Spencer looks into my eyes, deep like he’s reaching for my soul. He’s trying to profile me, but making it look a lot harder than it is. “You’ve been through a lot before: tough childhood, bad relationships, things like that,” I nod my head averting my eyes “But none of those things means you’re going to become a killer. Stressors only work if you let them, and I’ve had years of profiling experience and from the short time I’ve known you I can safely say you are incapable of killing someone.”

“How are you so sure? You barely know me?” I look up from my hands and gaze into his eyes, they are the warmest honey brown color.

“You and I both know you can learn a lot about someone without having to know them for a significant amount of time. I am highly skilled in the area of subtle detections and putting together clues to build personalities from fragments.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. I can’t hide anything from you because you already know it, so you are already well aware that I am incredibly attracted to you. I may not be an FBI profiler, but I can tell you like me too.” I put my hands over his, seeing his cheeks flare pink at the gesture. I lean closer to him, feeling his breath on my face.

Until he suddenly pulls back, but it was forceful. He didn’t want to, but he had to. I was about to apologize for how inappropriate it was, he’s just doing his job, but he starts before I can talk.

“Your essay is due in 10 hours, more accurately 9 hours 47 minutes and 22 seconds, and you haven’t started. Work on your essay, it’ll distract you from the current situation.” He stands and paces the room as if trying to come up with the best solution to a problem. I just couldn’t tell if the problem was me or the case.

I was going to argue with him, but I sighed knowing he’s right. I need to write my essay so I don’t fail my class. The screen burns my eyes as I stare at the practically blank screen. The sound of my fingers running across the keyboard fills my small apartment as I figure out my story. I stop for a moment after several minutes of furious typing and look up.

“What are some typical stressors of serial killers?” I ask Spencer giving him the opportunity to use his genius brain to help me.

After 4 tortuous hours of writing and editing done by Dr. Reid, I hit submit on my essay. I high five the young doctor in celebration, but he catches my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine instead. The air catches in my throat, I’m speechless. Now it’s my turn to blush at a small gesture. He holds me for a moment, gazes locked on each other. I lean up to meet his lips, but a knock at my door disturbs the quiet of the room. Reid puts a finger to his lips signalling for silence.

“Y/N open up. I know you’re home.” A voice calls from the hall.

“Hank.” I whisper, frightfully looking at Spencer pleading for some direction in the situation. How am I supposed to know what to do when my crazy professor shows up at my apartment to kill me? He nods his head toward the door as he creeps in its direction silently, gun in hand. He looks hot when he’s in agent mode. Wait, not the biggest issue right now, focus Y/N. I stand behind the door, looking over at him and he nods. I open the door slightly. “Hey Professor Deslaurier, what’s up?” He looks distressed and frazzled, but I would too if the fucking FBI was trying to find me for being a serial killer.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Uhhhh, I’ve been working on a paper. Do you need something?” I stand close to the door, practically hugging it as if my life depended on it. Reid’s presence behind the door went undetected by my professor since he stepped closer to the door.

“The paper must be amazing, you were always an amazing writer. May I come in?” He wasn’t really asking, his foot in the doorframe.

“I would rather not, I’m very busy. Deadlines and all.” I push the door closed, but before I could he shoves his way in. I walk backwards into the open space, consciously making an effort not to let Deslaurier know Reid is there by looking at him, which became incredibly difficult as he came closer to me pushing my back into a wall.

“You were always so intelligent and strong headed, but now, you’re just weak and pathetic. Aww look at the panic in your eyes. You can’t think your way out of this one.” He pulls a knife from his pocket and presses the flat side to my neck and I whimper. I squirmed in his grasp and in a moment of panic, I look at Reid. Deslaurier’s gaze follows mine and meets the agent standing in my apartment, gun cocked. Suddenly the cold, hard wall I was pressed against became warm and soft as my killer holds me against him like a shield, a knife to my throat. “Who is this son of a bitch?”

“I’m Dr. Reid with the FBI. Release her, put down the knife.” Spencer points his gun at the floor, knowing he would be unable to get a shot that wouldn’t hit me.

“Oooh, a doctor she chooses smart guys to whore herself out to.” I squirm in his grasp. My neck burns as the sharp edge of the weapon presses into me.

“I’m just here to protect her from you. You aren’t as clever as you think you are, you know? We caught you. You can’t hurt anybody anymore. Drop the knife and let her go. Now. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Let her go.”

“Spencer, please.” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. I’m probably going to die, I’ve accepted that. I just don’t want Spencer to see me go, I can tell this is killing him. Agent or no agent, this is an awful situation to be put in.

“Does she mean something to you, Doctor? I wouldn’t get attached if I were you, she’ll just throw you away like she did to me. Best and brightest in my class, but just another stupid girl outside of it.” If looks could kill, Deslaurier would be dead under Reid’s gaze. His eyes soften when he looks at me, giving me hope. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, I swing my leg back into my capture’s knee, dislocating it in the process. The knife sliced through part of my neck, just barely missing vital veins. Spencer takes his shot as the professor falls to the ground, catching me in his strong arms as I fall forward.

“Hey, hey, hey look at me. You’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine. We’re going to take you to the hospital and get you stitched up. Okay? Just keep looking at me.” He holds me as we sit on the floor.

“Spencer…” I whisper and everything goes dark.

Beeping and whispers fill the room as I open my eyes. I’m sitting in a hospital bed, what happened? Why does my head hurt so much?

“Hey take it easy. You’re in the hospital, you lost a lot of blood.” Spencer says, standing next to my bed taking my hand.

“What happened after I blacked out? How did we get here?” The beeping becomes incessant as my heart races.

“Relax, it’s okay,” He squeezes my hand and the beeping softens, “My team went to your apartment and took care of Deslaurier, I shot him in the shoulder after you kicked him, which good job by the way, even if it caused you to get hurt. You ended up getting a nasty cut on your neck, but it missed any critical veins.”

“Thanks.” I smile looking at our hands.

“You know you scared me half to death when you lost consciousness.”

“Well, sorry, I’ll try not to almost get murdered by a serial killer next time.” I smirk sarcastically as he laughs stroking my cheek.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“You know, we were in the middle of something before being rudely interrupted.” I look up at the gorgeous doctor who happened to save my life.

“Oh yeah, where were we again?” He smirks, lowering himself closer to my level in the bed.

“Right about here.” I pull him close, kissing his pillow soft lips.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds imagines

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aver-no · 4 years

Text

Real to Me (Princess and the Frog AU) Chapter 1

First | Next

AO3

Summary: Virgil’s closer than ever to getting his dream, Pat’s prince is finally coming, and the Creativitwins are here, queer, and- shit.

Relationships: Platonic moxiety, familial creativitwins, eventual prinxiety

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, and Janus (eventually Logan and C!Thomas)

Warnings: Unsympathetic Janus (I promise he gets a redemption arc) and like. one very minor swear word (lmk if I need to add anything else)

Word count: 4343

A/N: Heyyyy... so this chapter. Was NOT meant to be this long lmao, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I worked really hard on it, and as always reblogs are very much appreciated :) (Also feel free to drop by my ask box if you have any questions!!)

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Virgil groaned as he fumbled for the off button on his alarm clock. Another day. He rolled out of bed, narrowly avoiding the beat-up nightstand, working the kinks out of his neck. He quickly straightened out his sheets and stepped over to the old (“it’s vintage”) mirror his mama’d given him. Virgil wanted to make sure he was presentable, if only so he’d be stared at as little as possible. He tugged at his tight curls and grimaced. He’d slept in his work clothes to save time in the morning (lord knows he needed all the sleep he could get) but it left him looking a little rumpled. Virgil could see bags under his eyes too, and there was no time to put on makeup. He sighed. The outsides are just gonna have to match the insides today.

Virgil shuffled over to his closet to grab his coat. He rubbed his eyes and smiled at the sight of his dad’s picture, right next to the illustration he’d given Virgil so many years ago. Working three jobs suddenly didn’t seem as soul-crushing as before. He grabbed the black coat, quickly shrugged it on, and dashed out the door, snatching his hat at the last minute – it might rain later.

Virgil got to the corner just as the tram was pulling up, green paint and white stripes as dull as ever. The door opened and Virgil was eternally grateful someone he knew was at the wheel. He didn’t think he could handle the stress of wondering if they were going to go off the tracks. He gave a small smile to the portly man driving. “Hi, Charlie.”

“Hey Virgil!” Charlie looked him over sympathetically. “You’re lookin’ a bit roughed up today, son. Didn’t get much sleep?”

Virgil internally grimaced, knowing he’d probably be getting comments like that all day. He just forced a laugh as he reached the top of the steps and replied “Gotta pay the bills. You know how it is.” He wasn’t going to mention he could pay the bills just fine with one job. Or that he was probably chasing a pipe dream.

“Ha, yeah,” and a sympathetic look were the only responses Virgil got. That was fine. Uncomfortable people didn’t ask you questions.

Virgil walked down the dirty aisle of the tram. There were some empty seats, the hard plastic kind that public transport always has, but he just grabbed hold of one of the metal poles in the middle of the aisle.

Every once in a while, Virgil felt his eyes close for a few milliseconds longer than he’d normally let them. He didn’t want to let his guard down, lest he be pickpocketed or trampled or find himself in any other scenario anyone else might call “unlikely,” but it took an astounding amount of effort to pry his lids open every time. Virgil tried to fight it by staring at the people and cars passing by. New Orleans was as lively as ever. Even at 5:30 in the morning, there were jazz musicians playing on street corners and people dancing beside them, looking like there was nowhere else they’d rather be.

Virgil unfortunately became quite familiar with that fact as he stepped off the tram, almost running into a line of musicians as they paraded down the street. He started to get increasingly impatient as the trumpet, then the trombone, then the drummer danced by. Just as there was a break in the line and Virgil could see the street he needed to take to Duke’s Cafe, a large man with a handkerchief grabbed his hand and swung Virgil around in a circle. Affronted, Virge pushed the man’s hand away and quickly walked in the direction of the restaurant. Some people need to learn personal space.

一

“Wait Remus, I’m going to- ! Oof!”

Cackling could be heard as a fancifully dressed man with loose, dark curls piled on his head slammed into the railing of the ship.

“But Roman,” Remus said innocently, “I thought you said you were excited to get on land.” He waltzed up to the man pushing himself away from the edge of the boat.

“That doesn’t mean push me off the ship!!” Roman playfully shoved Remus.

“Eh, you didn’t fall or anything,” Remus shrugged.

The other rolled his eyes as the boat slowly pulled up to the docks, allowing the men aboard to see the photographers and reporters waiting to catch a glimpse. As soon as the ship pulled in view, flashes started to go off, capturing its gleaming white hull and a man standing behind the railing. As Roman flashed a practiced grin, Remus stepped away from the railing, as if hoping to prolong the time he had before stepping off the boat. When the ship began to pull to a stop though, the twins walked over to where the stairs led down to the dock, one with excitement in his eyes, the other with distaste. Roman struck a pose, hands on his hips (easy access for elbowing Remus), and flung off his crown to dash down the steps. Remus chased after him, determined not to be left on the boat (again), only pausing when he physically ran into Roman at the bottom of the stairway.

“Ro, what th-?!”

“Prince Roman! Over here!! Did you see you were declared most eligible bachelor by the Times-Picayune?”

Remus squinted at the reporter that called out to them. To Roman, anyway. Most eligible bachelor? Really?? That’s the dumbest question I’ve ever heard.

Roman, however, grinned and drifted to the center of the crowd. “Well no, you see, I just arrived, but to say I’m surprised would be-”

“Prince Roman! What do you think of New Orleans? Have you received your invitation to Eli La Bouff’s masquerade?”

Remus’ expression soured. Masquerades were lame anyway. He tried to push his way toward his brother. “Roman, come on-”

“I’ve found this city quite welcoming so far,” Roman didn’t acknowledge Remus, he just paused to beam around at the crowd, “and I’m looking forward to seeing more of it. In fact-”

“In fact,” Remus cut in, finally reaching that asshole, “we’d enjoy it more if we did some sightseeing.” He shoved Roman away from the crowd without waiting for a response. He hated reporters. He wasn’t even allowed to talk around them because apparently what the press hears is “important to our reputation” and if he doesn’t watch his language, “rumors might spread.” It was one time! And who would actually believe that Roman uses cacti as dildos? The whole thing’s all shit on a stick if you ask him.

“Oh, yes! Sightseeing!!” Roman clapped his hands excitedly and followed Remus off into the city.

一

Roman couldn’t remember when, but at some point he had lost Remus in the busy streets. It was definitely after he’d changed into street clothes, but before he passed the place grilling shrimp… The prince wasn’t too worried about his brother, but having a loose Remus on the town probably wasn’t great for the people of New Orleans.

Ro’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a trumpet blaring a couple blocks down. His head shot up and he took off down the road, drinking in all the sights around him. Every once in a while, he’d wink at a stranger, or maybe strum his ukulele in tune with the sounds of the city.

As the prince reached the end of the block, he saw a line of musicians dancing down the street. Roman’s face lit up and he chased after them. When he caught up he strummed along with the group and called, “Mind if I join?”

“Hey, we can always use another!” a dancing man with a handkerchief shouted back.

“Ashidanza!” Roman danced off after the band. These guys’ll probably show me all around the city.

They walked down several streets, each as exciting as the next. There were so many people milling about, so many smells and sounds, so many lights strung up between balconies, and restaurants on every corner. He flashed his most heart-stopping grins at the people they passed, drawing blushes left and right. His eyes only lingered on a few, before he danced on.

The group of musicians passed by a diner that smelled particularly good, and a tall man with a strong jaw caught Roman’s eye. He spun around, strumming louder to catch the man’s attention all while eyeing him up and down. Tight curls, glowing skin, dark eyes? Looked a little tired, but handsome nonetheless. Yeah, that deserves a wink. But as soon as the man turned away from the table he was cleaning, he just rolled his eyes at Roman’s antics and walked back inside the diner. Roman simply shrugged and lost himself to the music.

The group continued for a few blocks until they found a fairly empty road and started to really play off each other. Now this is what I signed up for. Roman cheered and whooped along with the others, and slowly a crowd formed.

It’d already been a few hours since he’d seen Remus but… what’s a few minutes longer?

一

“Order up!” Virgil held back a grimace at Buford’s gruff voice and the dinging of the bell. He turned to walk towards the back counter with his tray and pushed imaginary flyaways away from his forehead.

“Another coffee over here, Cher!” The man at a nearby table called.

“Gotcha, Eddie.” Virgil internally sighed and poured the coffee into the cup, eyeing Buford every once in a while to make sure he wasn’t gonna start slamming the bell again.

“Hey Virgil!”

He threw out a quick “Mornin’ Georgia” while placing a woman’s plate down.

“Hey, how you doin’ Virgil?” another voice called.

Virgil finally looked up to find a whole group of people sitting around a table, and hoisted the coffee pitcher off his tray to serve them. “Hey y’all.”

Georgia grabbed the mug he just filled for her. “We’re all goin’ out dancin’ tonight, care to join us?”

There were some words of assent amongst the group, but Virgil just protested, “You know I don’t dance. Besides, I’m-” he handed a napkin to a dirty four year old he wouldn’t have even come near if it wasn’t his job. “Need a napkin? I’m gonna work a double shift tonight.” Virgil strode over to a well-dressed man putting a napkin around his collar. “Here’s your hotcakes.” He folded his empty tray to his side and turned back to Georgia’s group. “I’m just really busy right now-”

“Again?” Georgia interrupted. “All you ever do is work.” She looked so disappointed Virgil almost felt bad. Almost.

Buford’s bell dinged. “Order up!”

“Maybe next time,” Virgil called over his shoulder, knowing full well it was a lie. He thought he might’ve heard someone say “I told y’all he wouldn’t come.” But that was probably just his imagination.

Buford cut him out of his thoughts, “You daydreaming ‘bout that damn restaurant again?”

Virgil deadpanned. “Buford. Your eggs are burning.”

He scrambled to get them off the griddle, but kept going off on Virgil. “You ain’t never gonna get enough for the down payment.”

“I’m gettin’ close,” the waiter scowled indignantly.

“Yeah? How close?” Buford was just mocking him now.

Virgil pushed down his frustration to demand, “Where are my flapjacks?”

The chef didn’t seem to notice Virgil’s impending anger, just laughing out, “You got about as much chance of getting that restaurant as I do of winning the Kentucky Derby!” Virgil’s lip curled into a snarl, but Buford kept going. “Saddle me up, y’all! It’s post time! Giddyup!” Virgil heard the worst trumpet imitation he’d ever had the displeasure to witness coming from behind him as he stormed off with the food piled on his tray. Just ignore him. Just… just ignore them. You’re getting there.

The bell dinged and Virgil looked up to welcome the customer, brightening a little when he saw who it was. Thank god. An easy customer. “Morning, Mr. La Bouff.”

“Morning, Virgil,” Eli rumbled as he pulled the chair out from his usual table and opened the morning paper.

Virgil placed the eggs and flapjacks on an old woman’s table. “Congratulations on being voted King of the Mardi Gras parade.”

“Caught me completely by surprise! For the fifth year in a row,” Eli joked. Virgil smiled good-naturedly at Mr. La Bouff’s hearty laugh. “Now, how ‘bout I celebrate with some-”

“Beignets?” the waiter placed a plate in front of the large man. “Got a fresh batch waiting for you.”

“Well keep ‘em comin’ till I pass out,” Mr. La Bouff laughed gleefully.

Virgil had just given his most indulgent customer service smile and turned toward the kitchen when the door slammed open and left a blond boy with a light blue jacket and a cream waistcoat beaming in the doorway. He stood there for only a split second before jumping up to Virgil, shouting, “Vee!!! Virgil Virgil Virgil, did you hear the news??” He plopped down into the chair across from Mr. La Bouff to say “Tell him Daddy!!”

Mr. La Bouff slowly swallowed and held up his paper to show the front cover displaying a handsome man with loose curls and a dimpled smile. “Oh yes,” Eli started, “Prince Roman-”

“Prince Roman is coming to New Orleans!!” Patton interjected, giggling excitedly. “Isn’t he amazing?” His face got all dreamy before continuing, “Tell Vee what you did, Daddy!”

“Well, I invited-”

“Daddy invited the prince to our masquerade ball tonight!!” Pat jumped up excitedly, then seemed to realize he was making a scene and sat down to continue a little quieter, “Tell him what else you did!” Mr. La Bouff paused to look at Patton for a minute, expecting him to interject again, but Pat stayed silent. He looked to his daddy and beamed, “Go on.”

“And he’s staying-”

“He-” Pat started, but then caught himself, deciding to shove a beignet in his mouth instead.

“...And he’s staying in our house as my personal guest,” Eli finished proudly.

Patton nodded excitedly, and Virgil looked at them both with wide eyes. “Pat, that’s amazing! It’s a lot, but… amazing.” He walked back to the kitchen to grab another batch of beignets, and when he got back he placed the treats in front of them and rested his hand on Pat’s shoulder. “A little word of advice: My mama always said, ‘The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’”

“Don’t I know it,” Pat laughed, taking a big bite of his pastry before gasping, “Wait, that’s it! Virge, you are a genius!!” Virgil gave him a look of confusion from where he was placing dishes in the sink. “I’m gonna need about 500 of your beignets for the ball tonight!” Virgil looked up in alarm. 500?? Patton darted over to where his daddy was sitting and grabbed a large wad of cash from his wallet. “Will this about cover it?”

The waiter stood there speechless for a few moments before forcing himself to reach out to take the money Pat was shoving at him. “I- yeah. Yes, this- this should cover it just fine, Pat.” A rare smile slowly grew on his face and he looked up at the La Bouffs gratefully. “This- this is it... I’m actually getting my restaurant!”

Patton hugged Virgil tight and bounced him around, squealing, “It’s gonna be amazing Virge!” Suddenly, he let go, gasping, “I’d better get ready.” He grabbed his daddy and shoved him towards the door. “Tonight my prince is coming!!”

“Everything looks good to me, Mr. Fenner.” Virgil looked away from the building (his building!) as the man in question began to get up to haul the “For Sale” sign away. Another, much shorter man with the same nose and mustache walked by where Virgil stood. “.....And Mr. Fenner.”

“We’ll have all the paperwork ready to sign first thing after Mardi Gras,” the taller of the brothers announced.

“I’ll be at the La Bouff’s masquerade ball, how ‘bout I sign them then?” He wanted his ownership confirmed as soon as possible – there was no way something this good could actually be happening to him.

“You drive a hard bargain boy,” the shorter Fenner called from the car. “We’ll see ya there!”

Virgil finally let himself take a breath once the real estate agents drove off, and stood back to take in the view of what would be his restaurant. He felt truly hopeful for the first time in a long time. He was really gonna get his restaurant. Wow.

He was startled out of his reverie by a woman sneaking behind him to say, “Table for one please.”

Virge turned to see a woman with graying hair and deep smile lines holding out a beaten up pot with a bow tied around it. “Mama!”

“Here’s a little something to help you get started,” she smiled.

Virgil’s face went soft, a little nostalgic. “Dad’s gumbo pot…” He hesitantly reached out to take it from her.

“I know,” Eudora comforted, “I miss him too.” They both stood there for a moment before his mama urged, “Well now, hurry up and open the door!”

Virgil went and unlocked the doors, and as soon as they were wide enough to walk through, said wistfully, “Look at it mama... Doesn’t it just make you wanna cry?”

Eudora took in the cobwebbed rafters and the creaky walls. “Yes…”

Virge seemed to notice her skepticism, turning to look at her after placing the pot on a lone stool. “It’s a little rickety, it’ll definitely need some sprucing up to be safe, but can’t you see it? The maitre’d is gonna be right where you’re standing, and over there’s gonna be the gourmet kitchen.” Virgil gestured to the left end of the room. “And hanging from the ceiling, a crystal chandelier! I’ve been thinking about the weight of it to make sure it doesn’t fall down, and so long as it’s not too big, I can save on the structuring of it. Of course I won’t pinch pennies too much, I want it to be safe, but-”

“You certainly have this all figured out, don’t you,” his mama laughed. “I’m sure this place is gonna be wonderful baby. It’s just…”

Virgil looked at her nervously. “What?”

“It’s a shame you’re workin’ so hard. It’s all you do,” Eudora smiled gently.

“How can I let up now that I’m so close? I’ve gotta make sure all Dad’s work means something.” I’ve gotta make him proud.

“Virgil, your daddy might not have gotten his restaurant, but he had somethin’ better,” Eudora squeezed his arm gently. “He had love.” Virgil snorted lightly. “Laugh all you want baby, but that’s all I want for you. Pat’s got his own dreams of happily ever after.” Virge’s eyebrows scrunched. “I don’t want you to be lonely. I wanna see you dance off into happily ever after too.”

Virgil stepped away from her. “Mama, I don’t have the time right now. I’m so close. Maybe when I get up and running, but right now… it’s just not an option for me.”

Eudora sighed and patted Virgil’s hand. “Alright sweetheart. I trust you.”

一

Roman stood amongst a crowd of people, all dancing and cheering. The trumpeter blared his horn, and the rest of the band energetically played along, the whole atmosphere charged with the infectious energy. A short news boy danced along with Roman, trading moves back and forth and smiling wide. After a few trades, the prince stepped to the edge of the circle to let the boy have his moment. With the space to himself, the kid dropped into a split and popped right back up.

“Ashidanza!” Roman laughed, tilting his head to some swooning admirers and immediately spinning back into the fray.

“Ro!” a familiar voice called. Roman looked up and smiled brilliantly, having caught the eye of his black-clad brother. “There you are. I should’ve been following the shrieking earlier.”

“Excuse me?” Roman dramatically placed his hand on his chest. “That is the sound of joy.”

“Sure, and you’re a heartthrob.” Roman squawked indignantly as Remus shoved him away from the crowd. “Come on, I found a restaurant that sells frog legs!!”

“What?? Ew, no. I’m staying here,” Roman dug his feet in.

“But Rooooo, they have five different sauces!! Five!!!”

“Yeah, for frog legs!”

“You got to play your jazz,” Remus argued, “so now we’re gonna eat some goddamn frog legs.”

“But I haven’t gotten to show all of my moves yet!” Roman protested. “And I’ve almost gotten enough admirers to form a fan club!”

“We should leave then, so my roguish good looks and entrancing humor don’t steal their hearts.”

“You mean your worm of a mustache and your freakish flirting?” Roman teased.

Remus glared and opened his mouth to argue, when a smooth voice came from the wall behind them. “Gentlemen!” The twins spun around to find a tall, masked man with a hooked cane and a black hat leaning casually against the wall. “Enchanté. A tip of the hat from Dr. Côté.” Roman noted that he didn’t actually tip his hat. The man – Dr. Côté – pulled a business card out of seemingly nowhere and held it out to them. “How y’all doin’?”

Remus swiped the card away before Roman could even lift his hand. “’Tarot readings, charms, potions.’” Re’s eyes shone brighter with each word. “’Dreams made real.’”

Ok, now Roman’s attention was piqued.

Remus looked up with a wild grin on his face. “You can really do that stuff?”

“Well… normally I do it for a price but… I suspect I’m in the presence of some very important people,” Dr. Côté grinned charmingly, canines glinting. The twins’ heads whipped around to share a look.

“...What other things can you do?” Roman inquired.

Dr. Côté seemed to really notice Roman for the first time. “Why don’t we take a little trip to my office and I’ll show you.”

The twins gave each other a look. Then Remus jumped up, shouting, “Come on, let’s just go already!”

First thing Roman noticed was that the “office” was not an office. Honestly, it was more of an urban cave – a nook in an alleyway off a street that was more dirt than anything else. It was filled with all sorts of things Roman never imagined would make for desirable décor. There were herbs dangling from one corner, and large masks with strange markings hanging on almost every available surface. Roman was pretty sure he saw some bones in the corner. The rugs on the floor didn’t match each other at all, but all were made of what was once probably very expensive fabric. Now it was just musty, matted, and muddled. The furniture was limited to a small, circular table in the center of the room, sitting directly beneath a chandelier that gave off an orange light, which didn’t seem to help much in the way of seeing. Roman silently vowed not to go within three feet of any of these… decorations.

“WOAH, cool bones!” Remus, on the other hand, seemed to have no qualms.

“Don’t touch those!” Dr. Côté hissed. He took a deep breath and grinned, gesturing to the table Roman noticed earlier. “Why don’t you come have a seat?”

The men settled themselves around the table, Roman carefully examining his chair before sitting, just to make sure he wasn’t about to sit on anything… distasteful.

Then, Dr. Côté pulled a deck of cards seemingly out of nowhere. They didn’t seem particularly special, simply decorated with a symbol of a hand that had an eye in the center, but the voodoo man held them with reverence.

“Are you gonna do a card trick?” Remus snickered. Roman buried his smirk and elbowed his brother’s side. He did not want to make a magic man angry.

Dr. Côté simply looked up, though, giving an oily smile. “They’re tarot cards. I can tell you your past, your present… your future.” He gave a knowing look and fanned the cards out to the twins. “Go ahead. Take three.”

The princes reached out to the deck, holding their chosen cards close to their chest as if it were a card game.

The Shadow Man stared at them for a moment, as if expecting them to do something before prompting, “How ‘bout I take a look at those cards now?”

Roman grinned sheepishly and placed his cards on the table.

“Ah… now you, young man, are quite a prince,” Dr. Côté began. “A prince of fairy tales, really.” Roman thought he heard Remus huff beside him. “Your world is truly… perfect.” Something retreated inside Roman a little at the words, but he looked up when the Shadow Man asked, “But will it ever be anything else? Nothing is quite so disheartening as playing the same role all your life, huh? But when I look forward… I can see you’ll be more… very soon.”

The prince felt an anticipation swell inside him. Very soon.

Dr. Côté grinned down at Roman, then turned to Remus, peering at his cards. “Ah, yes. You’ve always been ambitious, hm?” Roman was shaken from his reverie and just barely kept from snorting. (Judging from the glare his brother aimed at him, he didn’t do a very good job.) Remus was ambitious if you considered chaotic enthusiasm to be ambition. But Dr. Côté just continued, “You could do more, be more, than they’d ever imagined. I know it. What are you going to do about it?”

Roman looked to Remus, and Remus looked down at his palms. A hand was outstretched for each of them to shake. “Well, boys?”

The world was still for a moment. And then the black-clad prince’s hand shot out and shook the voodoo man’s, the other prince soon following suit.

“Very nice.” Dr. Côté’s smile grew leering.

Then an orange smoke crept up Roman’s arm and into his mouth, and the world went dark.

A/N: Sorry, the ending came kinda fast 😅 I hope you enjoyed it anyway!! Please feel free to point out any mistakes you see, and keysmashes are VERY appreciated :D

Taglist: @midnightstorm-underthe-moon @meowthefluffy

#sanders sides #sanders side fic #prinxiety #prinxiety fic #platonic moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #sanders sides au #my fic #real to me fic #real to me #moon talks

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