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boldlyvoid · 2 years ago

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No Longer Alone Together: Part 4

Part 4 | Masterlist

December 10th: Santa Day

They meet the LaMontagne’s there in Kirkland Falls, parking and paying for their spot on the side of the road for the day. The kids are all bundled up, JJ has a thermos full of coffee and Penny has shown up too. It’s the first year that the Santa parade and craft show is back on since covid, so everyone is out this year.

The streets are filled with people and vendors, there’s cider and mulled wine, the streets smell like ginger and the sound of laughter and sleigh bells ring all around them.

It’s finally Christmas again.

She keeps Noelle close, Penny and Luna hold hands just in front of her and behind her, Spencer and Atlas are deep in conversation with Henry. Will has Michael on his shoulders, JJ holds hands with Rosie. They get snacks and pick a good seat for the parade together, catching candy canes and screaming along to the songs being blasted from the floats. They wave at Santa, excited to see him later at the photo ops… it was only Henry who currently knew Santa wasn’t real and he promised not to break the hearts of his little siblings and cousins.

It’s hard to believe he’s 13 now and Rosie is 9… it’s all blown by so fast since the first time they were here.

Like clockwork, they separate into 2 teams, the girls normally go and shop together one way and the boy's shop on the other side of the town, only this year Noelle and Atlas switched teams.

Noelle wanted to be with Michael… they’re 6 (almost 7) and spend every moment possible together. Will jokes about them getting married one day, Y/N’s not at all ready to even humour him. And Laura likes to remind him that gay people exist and statistically, with her love for dirt bikes and skateboards, it doesn’t bode well for his theory.

Atlas on the other hand, he really wanted to go with his mom so he could get something special with his own money that he’s been saving these last few months. You see, every time the kids saw their grandparents, Liam handed them each a crisp ten-dollar bill to spend on anything of their choosing. They loved to spoil their grandkids, she couldn’t blame them.

He holds her hand through all the stores, for being almost 8 years old, she’s so lucky he’s still cuddly and loves being by her side. Luna stays with aunty Penny, off looking at the homemade baby doll clothes that one of the vendors make, while Rosie stuck by JJ.

“How much money do I have again?” Atlas asked, tugging on her coat sleeve slightly.

“40 dollars,” she remembers putting 4 10s in her wallet for him, this morning.

“Is that a lot right now?” He asks, overhearing too many grown-up conversations about inflation and how stupid the price of lettuce was getting. He now knew that sometimes what looked like a lot of money, wasn’t, and what normally wasn’t worth a lot sometimes became expensive based on demand.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can get something nice with it,” she assures him. “If you see anything else after you’ve spent it, I don’t mind paying for it, it’s Christmas after all.”

He takes his time looking around, making note of what is offered and where, following in his mom's footsteps of not making a big decision until she knows all her options. “I think I want to go back to that lady who’s selling the homemade cardigans… I want to buy the purple and green one for dad.”

“Awe, okay,” she thinks thats a wonderful idea. “Let me just tell aunty Penny,” she explains while looking over the racks in this store they’re in. She spots penny and waves her over, they explain where they’re going and she agrees to stick with Luna till they catch up again.

She holds Atlas’s hand all the way down the street on their way back to the venders set up in the town hall, where they started their search for presents. Luckily, the other half of their group wasn’t there now, they wouldn’t run into them and ruin the surprise.

“Oh, welcome back,” the kind older woman remembers them, it was hard to forget Atlas and his sweet little face and confident voice.

“Hi,” he gives her a sweet smile. “How much was that cardigan?” He points up at the same one he inquired about earlier.

It’s hand knit in an array of greens and purples that normally fill Spencers wardrobe, it would go with most of his dress shirts and slacks, and all of his brown shoes too. It’s exactly what Spencer would pick if he was shopping on his own and his son knew that.

“For you, $40,” she lowers the price from last time, the last time Y/N asked and it was $60. “Are you thinking about getting it for someone special? It’s far too big for you, just yet.”

He nods, “for my dad…” he turns right to his mom then, “can I have my money? I’m going to get it.”

“Sure thing,” she searches her purse for her wallet and unzips it, pulling out 4 10 dollar bills and counting them out before she hands them to him. “Are you sure you want to use your money? I can get it for you?”

“Yes, Christmas is about giving, remember? I want to do it,” he assures her.

She wants to tear up, he’s so cute and so grown up. She remembers the first time she was at this very Christmas market, with a very tiny Henry who was just as adamant about getting a present for his new baby sister… “okay, go for it, love bug.”

Atlas hands the lady the money with a huge smile, “can I please buy that cardigan?”

“Of course,” she’s so happy to help him. She puts her money in the change box safely and then reaches for the cardigan. “Would you like a pretty bag and some tissue paper for it?”

He nods, “yes please… um, is it extra?”

“Not for you, sweetie,” she can’t help but give in to him. “It always warms my heart to see young people so excited to give gifts. I want to help you make this special for your dad… how old are you?” She asks, folding the cardigan up nicely in some tissue paper.

“I’m going to be 8 on the 20th,” he shares with a big smile.

“Happy early birthday,” she cheers. “So young and so thoughtful, you should be proud, mom.”

“Oh, I am,” she can’t help the smile on her face as she watches on. “He’s the best little guy in the world,” she hooks an arm around him and pulls him back into her space, kissing the top of his hat-covered head gently.

Once he has his purchase, he thanks the lady and waves to her as they walk away, Y/N holds his other hand on the walk back outside, unable to stop smiling at how proud she is.

Outside, they take a seat on the bench together quickly, “did you know when I first started dating your dad, we came here and I got a present for you both, well before I was even pregnant with you?”

“Really?”

She nods softly, “yep. I got a little cardigan that looked like one Spence— your dad, used to wear to visit me at work and I thought when we finally got pregnant I’d tell him with it and then you’d be able to match one day.”

“Is it the cardigan from the photo in my room?” He asks, eyes wide and full of wonder.

She nods, “thats the one. Henry helped me pick it out and then for Christmas he got me a little dress for if we had a girl first.”

“That’s so nice,” Atlas cheers, looking up at her with a sweet smile.

He looks so much like his dad that sometimes it hurts her heart knowing they’re only ever going to have the one boy. No more Spencer mini-me’s… unless PJ stopped looking more like Laura’s side and more like Spencer, but they doubt that would happen.

The first time she was at this Christmas market she was looking for a gift for Spencer to tell him when she got pregnant, Now, she’s pregnant again and needs a fun way to tell the rest of their kids.

“Can I tell you a secret? You can’t tell your sisters yet…” She whispers, watching him nod with excitement, “I’m having another baby…”

“Really?” He lights right up, “when?”

“In the summer, July sometime,” she doesn’t give an exact day cause it could happen anytime that month.

“Does dad know?”

She nods, “yeah, we’ve already gone to an appointment to see the baby and everything… I want to tell your sisters soon, you think you can help me with that?”

He nods, “yeah! What should we do?”

“I was thinking now that you’re almost 8, maybe you can stay up a little later and help me make them both some best big sister shirts?” She offers, “I think you’re old enough to get an extra hour with us at night now?”

He hugs her so tight, “I am, I promise… and then I can see you more after work.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she kisses the top of his hat-covered head again. “I love spending time with you, my sweet boy.”

—

They meet the rest of the family back by Santa’s photo op booth. Spencer had signed them up for family photos last week, assuring that they got a time slot with Santa in case the whole state of Virginia decided to come to Santa day. Which, looking back on it, now that the line is as long as the street is, it was such a smart move on Spencer's part.

They get all the kids into one photo and it’s hilarious. Henry looks miserable with his newfound teen angst, Rosie stands beside Atlas with a big smile. Noelle and Michael are busy pinching each other and making the other laugh, all while Luna sits on Santa’s lap with a sweet smile, looking like a paid actress hired to sit there. All their personalities were perfectly on display, it was hilarious.

They also get an individual family photo to send out to their parent's retirement home, Derek in Chicago and Hotch in Seattle. But maybe they won’t send one to Derek, seeing as him, Sav and Hank were finally coming to the All-idays party this year. It’s been so long since the kids have seen uncle Derek, they missed him a lot but he had to move to take care of his mom with his sisters.

While Spencer is getting the photos printed, she stands with JJ, and the kids are with Will and Penny getting hot chocolate and cookies just down the street. She’s taking deep breaths, rubbing her tummy, not feeling all too well and JJ can see that.

“Do you want to go sit?” JJ asks, knowing from Will that she is pregnant again.

She nods, taking JJ’s hand and walking with her over to the nearest bench to take a seat. JJ whips out her phone almost right away, sending will a text asking him to see if the vendor they’re at also has some ginger ale for her. “Do you want a snack or something?”

She shakes her head, “no, I’m afraid to puke in front of the girls… they don’t really know yet.”

“Atlas does?”

She nods, “yeah, I just told him… I got all nostalgic about being here with Henry the first time, dreaming of being pregnant with Spencer’s babies and now I am and ugh it’s not as dreamy as I thought.”

“Not at all,” JJ agrees with a smile. “Will told me everything, how are you feeling about it?”

“Nervous, but good,” she’s honest. “You could have another too and then we’d be tied again?”

She laughs, “yeah, no thanks!”

Y/N laughs too, “I figured, you’re too busy with work right now, anyway… how are you doing, anyway? I haven’t talked to you in forever it seems?”

“i know, the Sicarius case kicked my ass, honestly,” she straightens her posture the way she does when she’s uncomfortable. “I’m just glad we have 2 weeks off… you know, unless—

“Kids or terrorism, I know the drill,” Y/N remembered, breaks weren’t really breaks, they were always on call for the big things.

“Yeah… honestly, they offered me a retirement package in the hospital after the explosion and I’m still thinking about it,” she shares, and Y/N can tell that she hasn’t told anyone that before. The look on her face is one of guilt and regret.

“Was it a lot of money?”

She nods, eyes wide as if the number was a lot larger than Spencer's, “really? Damn…”

“I love my job, I really do, but at the same time, I’m so tired of these fuckers turning their heat back on us, this call was way too fucking close this time… it might not be just a close call next time.”

“It’s crazy to think about everything you guys have gone through,” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to leave… could you get a job with Will?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” she admits. “I’ve been offered some captain positions in DC, I’d never be his captain, that would be weird, but I think being on the force would still be fulfilling for me and I could build a better relationship between the locals and the feds having been one.”

“True,” she pretends to know anything about the cop world… it wasn’t something she paid much attention to now that Spencer was an author and not a fed. “It would be nice to have you around more… I know Will misses you a lot during the week ‘cause he spends his time bugging me.”

“He considers you his best friend after me, you know that?” JJ smirks, not jealous in the tiniest bit.

Y/N nods with a smile, “he’s 3rd on my list, Spence and Laura are up there first.”

“He knows that too,” JJ wraps her arm around her and pulls her into a side hug. “This is all I ever wanted for Spence, you know when I told him to just see where life took him…”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, either,” Y/N rests her head against JJ’s with a sweet smile. “I knew you guys were like a family when I started dating him, but this… this is everything.”

December 12th: Growing Up

It’s another regular Monday night in the Reid household, only tomorrow Y/N doesn’t have to go to work. She has her annual 12 days off coming up, and she’ll go back in on Boxing Day… the day after Christmas was surprisingly busy at the museum, and with most families having their vacation time after Christmas, the museum was the perfect place to spend the Monday after Christmas.

She’ll probably even bring Atlas that day she goes back, he can meet some of her friends at the Air and Space museum and have his own tour while the girls stay home with Spence. Noelle will probably ask to go see Michael, and Luna will want to see Penelope and show her all the new bows and dresses she got for Christmas… it’ll be a great Boxing Day.

But today, today's just a normal Monday. The kids go to school, she goes to work for noon, they come home from school to their dad, she comes home at 7:30, just in time to tuck them in. Normal as ever.

Luna and Noelle go down to bed quite easily, they always slept the hardest on a Monday night. The excitement from the weekend mixed with the exhaustion of waking up early again tuckered them out right around 8. Atlas, on the other hand, was sitting up in bed with one of his new space books, waiting to be tucked in when Y/N opened his door.

“Hey, love bug,” she smiles at him and then holds her finger over her mouth to keep his voice down. “Do you want to come and spend more time downstairs with me and your dad?”

He nods like his head is on a spring, throwing his blankets back and jumping out of bed in a hurry. He gives her a big hug at the door and takes her hand in his on the way back down the stairs together. Spencer’s surprised to see him coming down too, “did you forget something?”

“Nope,” Y/N smirks, taking a seat on the living room couch beside Spencer and pulling Atlas into her lap for a snuggle. He’s getting so big but he’s still her little baby as he lays his head on her shoulder and wraps his arms around her middle. “I was thinking he’s old enough to stay up till 9:30 now… what do you think?”

“Yeah, I think thats a great idea,” Spencer snuggles into her side and wraps an arm around Atlas too. “This is nice.”

The room is all festive, with the main lights off and the Christmas tree on. The electric fireplace under the TV is going, blankets are out, even Bozo the cat, who’s very old and hides under their bed most of the day, is cuddled up on the tree skirt. It’s so cozy and exactly how she always dreamed her life would look one day.

“We were going to plan something to tell the girls about the baby,” she whispers, reminding Atlas that she was pregnant again.

He sits right up with a smile, “can I tell them for my birthday next week?”

“Oh, honey? Don’t you want the day to just be about you?” Y/N worries, never wanting to take any attention off him when he was already losing attention due to the close proximity to Christmas.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he assures them with a confident smile that makes his brown eyes glisten in the Christmas tree lights. “I want to tell them.”

“Okay,” she agrees easily. She can’t say no to him very often, he’s just too cute. “How do you want to tell them?”

“Do you still have my little cardigan from that picture in my room?”

“I do…” she feels her heart swell just imagining where he’s going with this.

“What if we wrap it and I can give it to them and explain it’s for our new baby?”

She turns to Spencer who’s just as blown away by how sweet that is, they shake their heads, amazed that they made him. “Yeah, bug, we can do that,” Spencer rubs his back gently, “thats a really sweet idea.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” He wonders aloud.

“A girl,” Y/N smiles. “You’re going to have 3 little sisters now.”

“Oh good,” he sighs, almost as if he’s relieved.

“Did you want another sister?” Y/N can’t help but laugh.

He nods, “Michael is a nuisance… that’s what Will says, anyway, and he’s always messing with Rosie so I don’t want a brother, I like how nice my sisters are.”

They both laugh at how he picks up new words and repeats them, his vernacular was getting huge. “You’re a good brother, that’s why they’re nice to you,” Y/N rubs his back with a smile, “you’re all so good to each other I was a little worried you wouldn’t want another baby to ruin it all.”

“There’s new babies in the family all the time?” He looks at her like she grew two heads, like how did she not notice all the babies? “Baby Rose Mary, then PJ, now aunty Laura’s new baby and yours… every year we have a new baby.”

“I think this baby is going to be the last baby in our family for a while,” Spencer presses his lips together awkwardly, feeling bad for breaking the news to him like this. “We’re all getting too old to keep having babies.”

“You remember what we told you about how babies are made right? Mama’s eggs aren’t the best anymore,” she feels a twinge of sadness as she explains it. Sighing with a frown. “When people who can get pregnant reach 35 there’s a lot more risks for the babies to be born with medical issues.”

“Oh,” he looks worried as he carefully lays his hand on her stomach. “Is she okay?”

She nods, putting back on a smile, “she is, she’s just going to look a little different from you and your sisters and she might be really tiny too.”

“Smaller than PJ was?”

She nods, “yeah… she has something called down syndrome, do you know what that is?”

He shakes his head, Y/N turns to Spencer, hoping he knew how to explain it a bit better.

He nods, knowing what to say, “so mom has 23 chromosomes in her eggs and I have 23 in the sperm… and uhh, and sometimes when people get older they can pass on more that 23, which is what happened with your sister. She has an extra chromosome and that means she’s going to have smaller features and possibly a learning disability or speech problems. She’s going to be a little different but we’re going to love her all the same, right?”

He nods, “I love her so much already.”

It was that simple. Kids are so wonderful, it takes just a second to explain something new to them and set expectations of kindness. She was going to look different and possibly experience the world a lot differently, but she was his littler sister. Of course, he was going to love her.

He had so much love in his perfect little heart to give.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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kaidatheghostdragon · 4 months ago

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I love the nature documentary idea, and propose that not ALL of the posts are goof-ups. Maybe a lot of them, maybe even most of them. But you cant tell me danny hasnt gotten a ton of footage of the bats just being awesome, or their weird selves, and just decided not to share it.

A video of black bat strutting across a rooftop ledge like its a catwalk (she totes knows she's being watched)

A compilation of every prank spoiler has done on the other bats which danny has caught on camera (some successful, some failures)

Red robin walking out of a cafe with a gallon-sized thermos of coffee

Red robin being berated by one of the bats as a third bat absconds with the thermos

Another video of the bat that absconded with the thermos... chugging it like their life depended on it

A photo looking skyward from a narrow alleyway, the whites of the bats lenses the only visible part of their silhouettes. By eye count, nearly all of them are there, hanging from the walls about to descend. (Danny invisibly and intangibly inserted himself right in the middle of the gaggle of goons they were about to descend upon.)

One of the bats just casually entering and riding the subway (im imagining red hood).

Batman giving a dum-dum to a frightened child he just rescued.

Many instances of some out of town hero that one of the bats snuck into gotham to patrol (hang out) with them. (Superboy with robin, any titans with red robin, starfire with nightwing or hood, arsenal with hood, superman with batman - after a video of batman berating one of the others for inviting an outsider, etc etc)

Robin trying to hide a puppy in the hood of his cloak, getting caught instantly by one of the other bats, who then procedes to help hide it from batman. They are successful for nearly two whole minutes, and after being berated, high five each other for successfully holding out that long.

One of the bats being rescued by one of the birds of prey

A video of one of the main rogue's hideouts, while they're describing their latest scheme to their goons. The video was released quickly enough to give the bats a lead to capture the rogue before they could get started on their plan.

One of the bats stepped on a flower, then panicked as they tried to prop it back up while apologizing profusely and audibly hoping that poison ivy doesnt murder them.

Robin sneaking to a secret meeting with harley - then takes the hyenas for a walk while harley gets a mani-pedi. Their behavior suggests that this is a regular thing. (Comments on the post indicate that harley was seen beating several joker goons to a bloody pulp with her signature bat shortly after the timestamp of the video.)

A compilation of every video danny tried to get of signal, every single one lasting less than five seconds, because he immediately spotted the camera. (He sees enough to spot invisible danny.)

DpxDc fic where Danny is just haunting the Bats and providing memes to the internet whilst being invisible

Because I read a fic ('the curious case of who lives in the walls' by RaccoonRobyn over on ao3) that has Danny chilling in the Wayne Manor's walls and commenting on the Wayne's habits and goings on and i just

Tl;dr danny has a twitter page where he invisibly follows the bats and documents their funny mistakes like a nature documentary.

One day a Gothamite spots a new twitter page on their feed. Its not got a lot of posts, but they're all pictures. And the first one is... Nightwing. Lying on the concrete, face-down, with another bat or bird very obviously laughing at him.

They think nothing of it. They compliment the photoshop for its realism, and move on. Except there's more pictures. All of them, every last one of them, has the Bats and Birds suffering from a trip, fall, a gaffe, a misstep, anything and everything.

And then they find a video

Its clearly a handheld or phone camera, pointed at Robin in an alleyway. Someone starts talking, in a very poor attempt at sounding like David Attenborough, narrating like a wildlife documentary. "Here we see the youngest of the Bat-brood partaking in one of its more private behaviors, unseen and unknown by its kin."

And Robin just. Steps further into the alleyway and gets swarmed by stray cats, all begging for food. He grins and starts feeding them, all whilst narration continues, talking about this like its an animal's behavior.

And they have more. So many more.

A video of Red Hood. He does a fancy gun twirl when nobody's around, bobbles it, and accidentally fires into the ground. He picks it up and acts like nothing happened. But the video sees all.

A video of Batman on a gargoyle on a skyscraper, with shaky footage from clearly around a corner, but on the same level. "Commentary on this specimen has been added in post, for reasons you will soon see. Batman, the patriarch of the Bat-Brood, is incredibly elusive to research, and for good reason." In the video, the camera jolts a little and Batman turns suddenly to the sound of rocks moving. The camera goes still, and Batman scans the area, seemingly seeing nothing. Then, his white eyes turn blue, and he looks directly into the camera. Footage ends.

The acc posts a screenshot of a dm that is very clearly an Oracle sockpuppet. She has sent something along the lines of 'how have you obtained this footage, this is dangerous,' etc etc. His response is 'i am in ur walls lol'

He is not aware of the level of Bat Paranoia this brings out.

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m-jelly · 3 years ago

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I KNOW I KNOW I already have a request to be made, but I just had one idea you might like and I didn't want to forget it.

I also know you have a lot of requests to write so just do this (if u want to) and whenever you feel like it -also I'm always so happy when I see a big número of requests you have, cuz I see your amazing writing is being recognized as it should be!

So, I was just preparing a quick snack for an afternoon coffee and I thought of this:

Moder Au.

Fluffy Levi but still our Levi (a bit yandere cause I loved his last yandere one shot)

Levi owns a teashop and one day Erwin brings reader to meet him, and it's like love at first sight. But, he notices u don't ask anything to drink, and u have one of those to-go cups but reusable. So, he does a little internet searching and sees lots of pictures with reader and that cup is always on frame.

And, when he starts to follow his crush, reader is always with that cup on hands, or inside the house with a ceramic mug, but he can never see what she is drinking and he just becomes concerned that she may be addicted to alcohol.

So one day, when reader is back at the teashop, he asks if they would actually drink something, and so reader confesses she is addicted to coffee, that's why the to-go cup is always on hand and reader actually HATES TEA. AND LEVI'S WORLD JUST CRUMBLES AND I CAN ALMOST SEE HIS EYE TWITCHING, from there I'll leave it to you, my love 🥰💕

Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Tea is amazing! (I know, I'm being a typical English person) Making me write a tea hater, shame on you! This is worse than all the angst asks put all together. You monster! Joking aside, I can do this, but it's gonna be so weird for me to write for a tea hater... forgive me tea, for I have sinned. Hold me, someone, please.

Change my mind.

Pairing: Levi x Reader.

Genre and tags: Modern AU, love at first sight, Levi chases reader romantically, becoming a couple, Levi is shook, concerned Levi, happy ending, happy ending for tea (I just gotta! leave me alone xD)

Concept: Erwin introduces you and Levi to each other at Levi's teashop. He is smitten with you right away and just clicks with you. However, he notices you have a thermos on you. He does some online stalking to find you always have the thermos on you in pictures. He follows you around a little and goes on dates with you to find you have no thermos on them, so he can't investigate. Levi becomes concerned about you. When you go to his teashop, he asks you if you want tea and you confess you only really drink coffee because of your work and it keeps you energised and you don't like tea. Levi does everything he can to get you to like tea and succeeds because he's good at making a cup.

He was breathless, you were beautiful and he was in love. He repeated your name in his head over and over. He adored how your name sounded. He just wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair and give you an eternity of happiness.

You giggled as Levi stared at you. "Are you okay?"

Levi nodded and regained his composure. "Yes. Can I get you anything?"

You shook your head and showed him your thermos. "I've got it covered."

"Oh, right."

You pointed to a table and chairs. "Want to join me?"

Levi looked at the time. "Sure. I'm due a break."

You both sat together and talked his whole break. You stayed and walked home with him at the end of his shift. You both texted and called each other for the next few days and stayed close. You'd meet with him and just clicked by how much you had in common with each other.

As your friendship and bond developed, Levi began to do some snooping. He checked all your social media pages and adored all the pictures you'd posted. He was careful not to like any, mainly because he'd be seen as a creep. He did notice that in a lot of the photos you had the thermos. He grew worried about you. He began to think that maybe you were drinking alcohol from it.

He started following you when you went out with others. He watched you when you went to work. He tried his hardest to get your thermos, but he could never grab it from you without you noticing. He built up the courage to ask you on a date. It was so perfect and romantic, but no thermos. He was overjoyed you and him were a couple in the early days, but he was still worried about the thermos.

You entered his teashop on a nice sunny day. You hurried around to him and kissed him. "Hi."

Levi lit up and blushed at your actions. "Hi." He cleared his throat. "Can I get you something?"

You shook your head. "I'm good." You showed him your thermos. "I've got this."

He'd had enough. "What the hell is in that thing?"

You opened it and showed him. "Coffee. I practically live on it because of my work, I know I should drink something better, but it keeps me going and awake."

"Why not have tea?"

You wrinkled your nose a little. "I don't like it."

Levi stared at you and spoke in a low tone. "What?"

You blushed. "I ah, I don't like the stuff. I was made a cup of tea at this old lady's place and it's so damn sweet and people have it cold too. Just, no. I didn't like it."

His eye twitched a little. You were perfect, but this was breaking his heart. "That's it, I'm closing this shop up and we're going to fix your tastebuds."

You laughed as he closed the shop up. "Levi, you don't need to."

"I do, this is important." He grabbed his tea instruments, then started brewing you a cup the old fashioned way. "I'm going to make you the best fucking tea you've ever had."

You sat on his stool behind the counter. "Alright, I'll have your damn tea."

He made multiple types, then placed them on the counter. "Chai latte, earl grey, green, jasmine, rooibos, peppermint, oolong and normal everyday tea."

You let out a long sigh. "Alright." You sipped the earl grey. "Mm, oh, this is kind of nice."

"See!"

You laughed, then picked up the next and went through all of them. "I have something to say and I want you to hear me out."

He folded his arms. "Talk."

You sighed. "I was wrong, you were right. Tea is really nice. I guess I was made a bad cup of tea that put me off for life. However, you have changed my mind. There are so many types and all have different flavours."

He smiled knowing he'd won. "There are fruit ones and even tea with chocolate in. I'll show you everything and explore the world of tea with you."

You giggled, then held his hand and pulled him close. "I loved the chai one."

"It's a nice one."

You leaned up and kissed him. "Mm, you taste of tea. I like kissing you, so I guess I should like tea because you taste of it." You pushed your tongue into his mouth and moved your tongues together in passionate bliss. "Teach me more. I want to try different ones."

He kissed you, then held you against him. "I'd love to. Just, cut down on the coffee, okay? Having too much is really bad for your body. I don't want you getting sick."

You kissed his chest. "Promise."

"The first step is getting rid of that thermos."

You pouted and whined. "But."

"Brat."

You whined more. "Okay, okay, bin it."

He picked it up, then threw it in the bin. "Great. Now we're on the step towards recovery. You'll reduce your coffee intake. Having two or three cups a day is perfectly okay."

You hummed a laugh. "I'm sure you'll take great care of me and help."

"I will, with pleasure."

#aot levi #levi #fanfic #levi ackerman #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: Snack

Summary: Katie’s hungry…and there’s only one snack she’s pining for.

Warnings: Language!! Smut (NSFW)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Rogers (nee Stark)

A/N: If you are currently reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS and I recommend you wait until you’ve finished so you don’t spoil anything!

This was more self gratification after seeing the photo below...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Steve grabbed his thermos mug full of coffee before he headed out to the hallway, meeting Katie at the bottom of the stairs with a fully dressed and clean Jamie in front of her, freshly changed Aurora on her hip.

“You ready son?” he looked at Jamie.

“Just need my jacket.” he nodded.

“It’s on the peg by the door.” Katie said, giving Steve a peck on the lips.

“Love you.” he smiled at her, before he kissed Rori’s head and she grinned at him.

“You too, have a good day.” Katie smiled, as she waved them both out of the door.

The Rogers’ household routine in the mornings always seemed to go the same. Family breakfast, change the kids, wave Steve and Jamie off…but no matter what time they got up in the morning it always seemed to be a rush. And she knew it was going to get even worse when she went back to work in a couple of months. But, as she walked into the kitchen and placed Rori in her bouncer seat with a teething ring, she looked around and realised she wouldn’t have it any other way.

As she tidied and set another pot of coffee going she spotted Steve’s wallet on the side she rolled her eyes and fired him a quick message telling him he had forgotten it. His response was almost instantaneous and she smiled, arranging to drop it in to him at lunchtime.

Once she was done she settled at the table and logged into her emails, smiling as she had one from Emmy asking her to read over one of her essays before submission. She had an agreement with the teenager, that she would proof read and highlight areas where there were errors or parts which could be improved but would point blank refuse to provide either corrections or detailed suggestions as she was keen that the work was Emmy’s own. Not that she needed much help, their eldest was a brainbox and currently flying high in her first Semester at Harvard.

And, according to her email, was coming home this weekend for the first time in 4 weeks.

Which in Katie’s opinion called for a family dinner. So she set about organising it, except the group chat kind of went a bit haywire when Emmy flipped out, sending a copy of a photo she’d seen of Steve that had been taken that morning which was trending on twitter.

Katie snorted at Emmy’s disgust but then her attention diverted fully to the photo of Steve. It must have been taken by one of his students earlier that day, and was apparently posted on twitter accompanied with the tag line of “My tutor is a snack”

Katie had to laugh because as much as she wasn’t sure that it was appropriate for students to be taking photos if their tutors on such a way, she couldn’t deny that her husband was a snack. In fact, he was more like a 4 course fucking meal in the photo in question. He was sat in a chair, reading a paper. It was ridiculously innocuous, but there was something about it that set every nerve in Katie’s body on edge. His jaw line, his hands, his wrists…holy hell he was channelling some big Daddy Vibes.

She was squirming all morning after seeing that photo. By the time she met Steve for lunch she was ready to jump his bones but there wasn’t really much opportunity to do that in the public arena of the coffee shop.

“Hey baby doll.” Steve smiled as he spotted Katie pushing Rori’s buggy through the door, standing up to greet her, hand on the glass pane to keep the door open slightly.

“Hi handsome.” she smiled, accepting the kiss he dropped to her cheek before he turned his attention to Rori, picking her up out of the pram. She giggled and waved her arms and legs, grabbing at his beard. He sat back down on the leather sofa, Katie dropping his wallet onto the low table in front of them.

“Thanks.” he said “Luckily I had a twenty in my pocket or I’d have been severely caffeine deprived this morning.”

He looked up as the waiter came over and they placed their orders for a couple of paninis and coffees before Katie sat back, nestling into the space under his arm which was resting across the back of the sofa.

Katie smirked “Had a good morning Daddy?” “Stop it.” he said in a low voice, shooting her a look as he bounced Rori on his knee. She flashed him an innocent one of her own back and he rolled his eyes before she laughed.

“I’m sorry but…it really is a damned good photo…” she fished out her phone “And Emmy was right. Steve Rogers Snack is trending.” Steve groaned. “I know, I’ve been getting screenshots off Sam all morning, well I was until I blocked him as well.”

“As well?” she frowned “You mean you actually did block Bucky?”

“He sent me a clown picture.” Steve shuddered “So yeah. I did. I’ll unblock em later. Maybe” he said, waving his hand.

Katie shook her head, watching him for a moment as he concentrated on Rori who was now chewing at her hand. Reaching into the changing bag, Katie handed over a teething ring which he took and passed over with a smile, Rori making some form of babble back as she shoved it in her mouth eagerly.

“She’s looking more like you each day.” he said, smiling and looking back at Katie.

“You think?” Katie asked, looking at her daughter.

Steve nodded. And he meant it. Whereas Jamie was a carbon copy of him, he felt that Aurora was in turn going to be the double of her mother. Her eyes were almost completely green now, and her hair was dark too. She had her mother’s nose and face shape although Katie insisted the cheekbones were definitely from the Rogers’ side, not that Steve could see it. “She’s beautiful.”

“Charmer.” Katie smiled

“Only for you.” he shot back, winking.

****

Seeing Steve at Lunchtime had done nothing to stop or help with Katie’s spiking libido. It really was ridiculous how much of effect a fucking photograph taken on the sly was having on her, so much so she was ready to jump his bones the moment he walked through the door, but with the two kids being around there wasn’t much chance of that.

“Momma!”

Rori let out a shriek at the sound of her brother’s voice and grinned as he ran into the room.

“Hey baby, did you have a good day?” she asked, looking up from where she was sat on the rug playing with their youngest, and he nodded.

“Yeah but tomorrow is gonna be even better as it’s soccer day!” he grinned. Katie smiled, Jamie hadn’t been at school for very long but he already loved soccer and baseball practice. She ruffled his hair and glanced up at Steve who was leaning in the doorway, still in that fucking jacket…

Steve spotted the look on his wife’s face straight away. He knew it well enough. A thirst, a lust, desire…

“Jamie, why don’t you take your bag upstairs and get changed?” Steve tore his eyes off Katie’s to look at his son.

“Can I play on my computer?” he asked hopefully.

“Just until dinner.” Katie said, looking at him.

He gave a triumphant yell and stood up, bounding out of the room.

“Speaking of dinner I better start it.” Katie said, standing up. “You ok to watch her?”

“Course I am.” Steve chuckled “She’s my daughter.”

“Just checking.” she said, brushing past him in the doorway. She stopped and glanced at him, her hands running up the lapels of his jacket and he gave a smirk.

“You really like this jacket huh?”

“Almost as much as I liked the stealth suit.” she agreed before she looked him up and down, making no attempt to disguise the fact she was as she bit her lip and headed off up the hallway.

Steve waited until she had gone and let out a soft groan. Since her dirty little Daddy comment before he’d had a semi-hard on all fucking day. And now, after that little display he was turned on even more. Taking a deep breath he knelt down on the floor and tickled Rori’s tummy where she was grabbing at the baby gym she was underneath. He could hear Katie gently humming and after another minute or two he picked Rori up and carried her through to the kitchen, placing her down in the playpen in the corner of the room.

Without a word he crossed over to where Katie was stood reaching into the cupboard for something. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back towards him, his lips gently skating up her neck.

“This what you want?” he asked softly and she gave a grin, tilting her head to look at him.

“What gave you that idea?” she asked.

“Just a hunch…” he muttered, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss, before his mouth moved to her jawline, one hand straying to the button on her jeans. He popped it easily and worked his hand into the front of her underwear and she gave a soft gasp as his fingers began to play with her sensitive flesh.

“You know…” he continued to speak as her sighs slipped from her mouth “I’ve wanted this all day doll, you’ve had me pining for you…”

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s been mutual…” she said softly, arching her back and taking a sudden breath as two of his fingers slipped insider her. She pushed back slightly, the curve of her ass pressing into his groin and he gave a hiss.

“Fuck baby…” he said through gritted teeth, and he gave a disgruntled wimper as his hand stopped what it had been doing.

“Steve…”

“Such an impatient brat…”he chastised, his mouth on her neck and as she closed her eyes she could hear the tell-tale sound of his belt buckle being undone and the zip on his flies being pulled down. His hands retuned to the front of her jeans undoing them the rest of the way and sliding them down wither panties to her ankles. As he stood up, his hands gently traced the curves of her calves to the outside of her thighs and he grabbed her hips pulling her back towards him before he bent her gently forward, nudging her legs as wide apart as the clothing round her ankle would permit.

He didn’t say another word as he pushed into her in one glide, burying himself to the hilt. Katie let out a groan, her hands slipping forward on the kitchen counter slightly as he bottomed out, before he gently pulled back and did the same again and again, hands gripping at her hips as he continued. He leaned over to nip at her neck, causing her to whimper, one hand moving from her hip to clasp her jaw, tipping her head round to meet him. His lips crashed onto hers in a hungry, domineering kiss, swallowing her dirty little moan as he picked up the pace, his hips rutting forward faster.

She gave a loud, low purr of delight as he slid his mouth to the pulse point on her neck, before he let out a growl of his own and glanced down at the point where their bodies were joined, the sight of him slamming into her worked him up even more.

His rhythm became faster, and Katie felt her hips banging against the side of the marble surface tops. She knew there would likely be some bruises there tomorrow but at that point in time she really didn’t care. Her hands tightened around the edge of the kitchen counter, her hips bucking back into his, desperate to feel him as much as she could, the feel of him brushing against her spot was finally scratching that itch, satisfying that hunger she’d been feeling all day.

“Fuck you feel so good doll…” he praised, lips warm on the shell of her ear as she arched her back slightly, letting out another keen of desire and she felt the animal in her belly beginning to stir. Steve could read the signs well enough by now to know she was close, and he moved one hand to stroke between her legs whilst he continued his relentless rhythm.

“Stevie…” she stuttered his name, before her voice became nothing but a strangled, hoarse cry and she tightened around him, her legs buckling slightly. He tightened his arm around her belly as he felt the familiar white hot ribbons surge through his body as he let himself go, his rhythm faltering as he emptied himself inside her with a groan.

Katie laughed softly as he moved back, his hands gently gliding up her arms as he kissed the back of her neck softly before he stepped back to allow herself to pull up her clothes as he tucked himself away and fastened his buckle.

“Now I gotta stand here, in damp panties and cook…” she turned and looked at him, sliding her arms round his neck.

“Well, that serves you right for snacking before dinner.” he grinned, as she let out a bark of a laugh before he dropped his head slightly, running his nose up against hers “Let’s hope you haven’t ruined your appetite completely for desert….”

#stark spangled forever #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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sometimesiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

Hooked on a Feeling

The Witcher: Modern Academia AU

Essi/Eskel

A/N: Inspired by this lovely art piece and my general ongoing obsession with Lit Prof Eskel, I bring you this—whatever this is. It came about largely because I want to explore Essi more thoroughly through different pairings, various different planes of existence, etc. The best way for me to think about and develop a character is to put them in with other characters and see what happens. This may or may not become a series, this also might stay where it is. I chose a modern AU because I wanted a challenge. I believe characters change with context, and this has been an interesting time spent with Eskel in this context as well. I’m not sure how I feel about him in this universe (aside from the love and affection I will likely always feel for that man); more specifically, I’m not sure I’ve done him justice, but I suppose I’ll let you decide for yourself. Feedback is usually helpful and always welcome. Cheers, friends!

Warnings: bit o’ smut, age gap, academic power structures, dialogue-heavy

MASTERLIST

Enjoy!

Strong hands held her steady, warm and luxurious through the cotton-poly-spandex of her skirt as it bunched around the tops of her thighs. A breathless roll of her hips left a spot blooming slippery dark on the red cotton of his boxer briefs, and a hungry moan escaped his throat as he explored the tender flesh and tendons of her neck. Papers crumpled under foot, previously housed on top of the desk, but now relegated to excess carpeting. Roget’s Thesaurus, Crabb’s English Synonyms, Shakespeare’s Lexicon, and other reference materials splayed open helplessly on the office floor as he toed off his shoes and sloughed off his pants.

She clutched him to her, feeling the shift and flex of his torso beneath her hands as she pressed her right cheek to his. She was overwhelmed with the urge to be closer, to know better, dig deeper into the possibilities of what they could mean to each other. But she could also feel the hesitation lingering between his fingers and her skin like a mirage over hot pavement, and the desire to ease and reassure took over. “You’re holding back,” she whispered, pausing their fervor. “Is this not what you wanted?”

Her hot breath against his ear sent a rushing tingle down his spine that made him falter, ever-so-briefly, before he regained his composure. He was breathing heavy against her, hair a mess, glasses askew, every muscle in his body quivering as he stood; caught between following the raw satisfaction of impulse, and listening to the unwelcome logic echoing loudly in his head that this was a bad idea. “No, no, believe me, this is very much what I want. I just—I need to make sure tha-ha-ha-haaaaa,” no one, not even him, got to know the end of that sentence as her palm dragged along the bulge in his briefs.

She blinked at him with certainty, pale cheeks blushing from her own boldness. But she wanted him to know that he was wanted: his mind, his body, his whatever-else-he-chose-to-give-her. Slender fingers nimbly worked the pearly buttons on his dress shirt. “You need to make sure that I don’t feel coerced by the difference in our ages or your institutional status.” She ran her hands over the crisp white cotton of his undershirt and smirked, “or your strength.”

Gods the way she talked sometimes, like her fucking soul belonged somewhere else, the way she just spoke words and meant them like it was the easiest thing in the world to be straightforward. It felt… safe. He could drift in the current of her transparency and never question whether she was holding something back or saying something merely for the sake of placating his insecurity. This woman had no subtext. It was liberating and, if he was perfectly honest, acutely arousing.

“Yes, of course I want to make sure,” he ran a hand through her hair, smelling sea salt and verbena. “And I want to make sure that you…”

She took his face in her hands and washed his honey-hazel eyes in her startling sea-glass-blue, “I want you.”

__________

Not even a third of the way through the semester, and Essi had already given up on the idea of making coffee and having a “pleasant wakeup” at home before class. It took no less time to roll out of bed and walk all the way to the cafeteria, but at least there was always a blueberry danish for her trouble, and the walk ensured she wouldn’t be tempted back into the warm bundle of blankets on her bed. She blinked heavily and shivered a little, her eyes still bleary from not-enough-sleep. She gripped her contigo travel mug and tried to remember the first two chapters of Gadamer that she’d half-read the night before (earlier that morning) as her eyes drifted closed.

...can I get for you?

Good morning… Miss?

The man in front of her gave a wry smile to the cashier, “Almost seems a shame to wake her up.” He gingerly reached out and nudged Essi’s elbow. She startled and her eyes—her two spectacularly blue eyes—blinked open. “Sorry,” the man said with an endeared smile, “You, uh… you alright?”

Essi blinked herself alert as a piece of strawberry blonde hair escaped a silver clip at the back of her head. She brushed the loose piece back behind her ear. “Yes. Sorry, just… uh, house blend in this, please. Double-double. And a blueberry danish.” She paid the cashier and stepped to the side to wait for her order. The man in front of her, she assumed, was also waiting on his. He leaned to the side, still facing forward.

“Long night?” he asked, clearly still mildly amused by the situation.

She conducted a surreptitious survey of her chatty companion, “You could say that. Philosophy reading got away from me this week.” A keycard was clipped to his breast pocket: Dept. English, E. L. Varga, Ph.D. The lack of photo indicated it was at least a year old if not more—photo IDs had only just become mandatory with the rapid growth of the campus and certain programs. She reckoned he was maybe 37-ish, from the way his hazel eye crinkled a little at the corner and the few bright silver streaks in his dark auburn hair. He looked… distinguished, but without the stiffness of someone whose entire adult life had been fully committed to academia. Post-doc? Assistant Professor?

“Full day ahead?” Essi couldn’t help but think the world of radio was missing a key contributor, his voice was so striking—deep and rich, but without being flashy, an unassuming timbre that came from somewhere deep within and carried a vulnerability with it.

“Oh, a little. Philosophy seminar followed by Contemporary Poetry this afternoon.”

“Two on a Friday. That’s a bit unkind.”

“I like them both and the professors are very engaging, it’s just, well…”

“Abrupt end to the week.”

“Yes exactly…” This unexpected morning companion was an excellent conversationalist. So much so that Essi hardly noticed she’d only seen the left half of him the entire time they’d been standing in line. She didn’t have much time to ponder on it, though, as her travel mug appeared at the same time as Dr. Varga’s order (a coffee and a cream cheese bagel). She glanced at the time and hastily lidded her thermos, hoping to get a bit more reading done before class began.

“Oh look, we have the same one!” she said, pointing to the turquoise blue, double-walled, spill-proof (as if) container as she tightened the seal on her own. “Funny coincidence.”

“Or maybe,” he offered suspensefully, tucking his bagel into his shoulder bag and lidding his own, “it’s not.”

Essi offered a sleepy chuckle, “Divine intervention in the form of coffee?”

“You’re the philosopher,” he smiled warmly, and moved to face her fully but stopped himself, instead opting to stare at his hand where it rested on the lid of his thermos. His left eye caught Essi’s inquisitive head tilt as he cleared his throat, “Have a good day.” He pursed his lips in a halfhearted smile and turned away. No doubt he has places to be, she concluded. But a small part of her couldn’t get over his sudden shift. He’d gone from being so open, so warm and charming to being—well, distant.

Essi’s musings about the mysterious E. L. Varga, Ph.D. were quickly dissolved by her professor’s introduction to Hermeneutics followed by a lively discussion about the nature and qualities of knowing. At the halfway point, the class dispersed for a ten minute break as they all stretched their legs and went to the bathroom. Essi gambled that her coffee would have cooled down to a drinkable temperature, and took a sip. What the—?

“Oh, damnit!”

“Hm? What’s the matter?” Julian asked, through a mouthful of pita and hummus.

“This isn’t mine,” she said, half-befuddled, half amused.

“How do you know they didn’t just get the order wrong? You’re telling me you took a stranger's coffee thermos which just happens to be identical to your own?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Essi stated with certainty, staring into the middle distance. “I should find him after class and give it back.”

“Well, unless you can see through walls now, you’ll need to track down his office. Which,” Julian took another sizeable bite of pita, “I doubt you’ll be able to do without knowing his name, so I say just leave it and—“

“E. L. Varga, Ph. D., English department.”

Julian stared at his cousin, “You’re a little scary sometimes, you know that?”

________

Essi combed the halls of the English department after her seminar. Several times, she thought about going to the admin office to ask (it was the logical thing to do), but she felt suddenly shy about looking for him. Perhaps Julian was right, perhaps this was more trouble than it was worth. Her head was spinning with questions about whether she was imposing or perhaps impinging on his boundaries, disrespecting his privacy. Perhaps she should just leave the thermos with the Admin office and trust that it would get to him. She could just buy a new one for herself, no problem there. But then a part of her wanted to see him again, make a good impression. He intrigued her, and the small taste of conversation he’d given her that morning made her want to talk with him more about anything at all, no matter how trivial.

She wasn’t infatuated. Rather he’d made an impression, and something about him—the way he carried himself, presented his thoughts, his general affect—drew her to him in a way she couldn’t explain. Suddenly he mattered, and she was trawling the seemingly-endless network of almost-identical hallways in the hopes of returning what was his, and retrieving what was hers. She finally found the right office, impossibly small, and tucked away at the far end of a cul-de-sac. She knocked quietly.

“Come in?”

E. L. Varga, Ph.D. had his back to the door, ankles crossed on a corner of his desk with a stack of papers in his lap. “Just.. one second,” he finished underlining a scrawled turquoise notation in the margin and spun around to face the door, setting his papers down as he turned. “Yes, what can I do for—” he froze, coming face-to-face with dazzling blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair pulled up in a silver clip. “Ah.”

Essi tried hard to avoid the look of shock that rippled across her face and made her big blue eyes even bigger. Three jagged scars trailed angrily from the corner of his eye and past his mouth, coming to a final stop on the side of his chin. He cleared his throat and gave the same wry smile he’d parted with earlier that morning, adjusting his rectangular, wire-rimmed glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

“I imagine you’ve come for this,” he said, placing Essi’s thermos on the edge of the table.

“I—yes, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and, well,” she fished his out from her bag, “here.” She handed it to him and he accepted with a lighthearted raise of his eyebrows. She paused for a moment, meeting his eyes intensely. There was a sadness behind them that made her want to stay, made her want to ask questions, find out the source of his pain and eradicate it. Instead she smiled a little more stiffly than she meant to and lingered in the doorway.

E. L. Varga scratched at the lines in his cheek, “Was there, uh… something else?”

Essi shook her head pleasantly, “No. I suppose I’ll go now.”

Another pause, “Alright. Well. Enjoy your weeke—.”

“Why do you mark in blue?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dr. Varga blinked, nonplused.

“When I came in, before you turned around, I saw you leaving a comment on someone’s paper. I assume you were marking?” (he nodded), “You use turquoise. Most professors use red.”

He huffed a small laugh, spinning his marking pen in its cap, “I prefer to use a colour that’s a little less foreboding. It’s still bright and easy to notice, but it doesn’t mean instant panic for those students who, like me, have a Pavlovian panic response to red ink. That and red is my favourite colour, so the last thing I want is to associate it with constructive criticism and a never-ending trail of ‘see me’s.”

“That’s very generous of you. Most professors don’t think about it that hard.”

“The extent to which many professors don’t think is shocking, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’m glad for your students. They have a thoughtful instructor.”

Dr. Varga smiled warmly and removed his glasses, “Thank you. Was there something else?”

“You hid from me this morning,” Essi answered calmly, not knowing how else to bring up something like that—clumsily had been the only other option.

He answered slowly, “Yes. I did.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

There was a pause as Dr. Varga tried to wrap his head around what exactly was happening. Part of him was feeling exposed and a little too noticed for his own comfort. Another part of him, however, found this straightforwardness refreshing. Most people pretended to ignore the massive scars on the side of his face—which he always thought was a bit ridiculous and usually led to more awkwardness than if they just stared like he knew they wanted to. It wasn’t that she was staring, either, or asking unwelcome questions, but she wasn’t avoiding acknowledging the obvious. He liked that, he decided, even if it did make him feel a bit raw.

“It depends how you define ‘need’, doesn’t it?”

His averted glance was all Essi needed to realize it wasn’t her he had been trying to spare somehow; rather, he was trying to spare himself from her unpredictable reaction at 8:30 in the morning. A wave of sadness crested inside her at the thought of this warm and charismatic man having to strategically orient his face because he didn’t want a pleasant conversation suddenly filled with maneuvering and overcompensation. He’d just wanted a normal moment of small-talk to start his morning.

“I’m sorry,” Essi said. “Navigating others’ reactions must be exhausting. You deserve better.”

E. L. Varga shrugged and steered the subject to something a little less eat-pray-love. “Unexpected things surprise us. Like you, finding my secret gremlin office for the sake of two identical thermoses we could just as easily have dumped out and used as our own.”

“But I would have known it wasn’t mine,” Essi answered with an overly-earnest, wide-eyed expression.

He leaned back in his chair, hands folded contemplatively in his lap, ”Would that bother you?”

“Some of the colour has worn off the bottom rim on yours, probably from swirling it on your desk while you think. Whereas mine has a shallow dent in the side from when I dropped it last semester on my way to the library. Yours got the way it did because of you, just like mine did because of me. They both have stories connected to them. I can’t walk around carrying my coffee in someone else’s story. It wouldn’t feel right.”

Dr. Varga tilted his head, considering this shrewd young woman with seemingly no filter and unnecessary depth. It was a coffee thermos, for Christ’s sake. But she was genuine, poetic, and her eyes were the most alluring shade of blue he’d ever seen.

“Well,” he tapped his pen, “thank you for bringing it back to me safe and sound. Yours should still be drinkable if you unscrew the top. I only took one sip, but in case you’re afraid of cooties…”

“Same with yours, I’ll probably just rinse mine or…” she trailed off, realizing that saying ‘leave it’ would sound a bit strange. “So, Dr. E. L. Varga. Was it a coincidence after all?” Essi asked, a small enigmatic smile pulling at her lips.

“Eskel,” He said. “My name is Eskel.”

“Essi Daven. Until next time.”

With a little nod, she closed the door behind her, leaving Eskel to release the half-breath he’d been holding.

_______

The weekend passed all-too quickly. Essi and Julian played a double set at the campus bar—a standing invitation they never missed no matter how busy their schedules were. They both had double lectures on Friday, and nothing quite staved off the risk of burnout like good music and an enthusiastic audience. The rest of the weekend was spent more-or-less curled up in the livingroom with stacks of notebooks, JStor printouts, and dog-eared anthologies as they got to work on their readings for the coming week.

It was Wednesday by the time Essi made it back to the campus cafe, this time a good 45 minutes early and significantly better-rested than she’d been the previous Friday. Still, it didn’t stop her from nearly jumping out of her shoes when…

“Awake this morning, I see.”

She turned abruptly at the familiar voice to find Dr. Eskel L. Varga standing behind her, smiling welcomingly. She grasped the outside of his arm while she caught her breath, “Well, if I wasn’t awake before, I am now. Good morning!”

A rich chuckle came from the professor’s throat as he offered her elbow a brief touch of reassurance. “You know, most people do that after they’ve turned around.”

“You know, I’m not sure how to respond to that,” she answered lightly.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to. It was just—”

“That’s alright, I know what it was,” Essi blinked warmly up at him and Eskel got the distinct feeling she was checking him somehow, the way her eyes hovered and flickered between his own. Satisfied, she turned to the cashier and placed her usual order, stepping aside to wait with Eskel for his bagel.

“We’ll have to keep a close eye on the twins today,” he said, tucking his wallet into his pocket.

“I think any amount of attention from either of us will be enough to prevent another mishap. But, then again, it’s a shame we won’t have an excuse to distract ourselves with an early afternoon mystery.” Essi thanked the young man behind the counter as she accepted her thermos and blueberry danish.

“Hm, I imagine you’ll be glad not to have to find my office again, though. Cheers,” Eskel held up his own travel mug before taking a sip and lidding it. “I should be off. Busy day today. Good to see you, Essi.”

“I can walk with you if you like.”

Eskel slowed and turned tentatively back to her, “Sure, alright. If it won’t make you late.”

“No, no, I have time. My class doesn’t start until 9:30. That is, if you want company. You might… prefer to walk alone?”

Eskel smiled again, the friendly distanced smile of someone who wanted to avoid any and all misunderstandings. You see, there was something about Essi that set this post-doctorate professor on edge—not because she made him uncomfortable. On the contrary: she made him feel surprisingly comfortable. Comfortable in a way he was not accustomed to feeling around someone he’d only just met, and briefly at that. But even the brief few minutes they’d spent in each others’ company had been enough for Eskel to feel strangely drawn to her. There was an inherent intimacy in the way she interacted with him—with everyone, he assumed; the way her large blue eyes blinked slowly and inquisitively at him, the way they penetrated without piercing and lingered on his without darting away. It only served to enhance the subtle, self-possessed sensuality she exuded, and it made Eskel slightly-less-than-comfortable (insofar as he found it unavoidably appealing).

“I don’t mind a bit of company from time to time,” he offered, having opted for ‘Intriguing Conversation with Interesting Potential Future Student’ as his intention for this and all future encounters. They walked for about a minute in silence, neither quite knowing where to begin. Without the crutch of mistaken coffee-identity, the realm of conversational possibilities seemed a bit daunting. Eskel decided to ease the tension, “So, Essi. You know that I teach in the English department and where my office is. What’s your major? Or are you just doing general studies?”

“Well, I did do general studies my first year of undergrad,” a small piece of Eskel’s uneasiness eased. So she’s a grad student… “Now, I’m finishing off the first half of my Poetry MFA.”

Essi watched as his face immediately opened, eyes lighting up like a kid at DisneyLand, “Really? What’s your focus?” It was unbearably endearing.

“Affect and Poetic Performance. I’m examining the relationship between lyric and melody through the lens of Affect Theory.”

“Affect Theory…”

“It’s a way of talking about our ineffable responses to different environments. It’s all well and good to say, ‘well this or that has a certain vibe,’ or ‘something about that person feels off,’ when we’re speaking colloquially, but how do we talk about it in a broader, more objective way for the purposes of research? It’s a kind of philosophy of sensing if you think about it.”

Essi’s entire demeanor had changed on the turn of a dime. She was effusive, incisive, and talking a mile a minute, her gestures captivatingly eccentric as she spoke—Eskel thought it looked like her thoughts were physical things she was trying to pull out of her so she could arrange them properly. He wanted to see more of this side of her. Not just because he was amused and impressed, but because he was genuinely fascinated by where all this discussion of affect was going.

“And so affect itself is…”

“Affect is the thing that happens before emotion; a gut feeling or an intuition. It’s all those feelings we don’t have words for yet still sense acutely and precisely.” Her footsteps were becoming shorter, as though they were trying to keep pace with her thoughts, and her cheeks were starting to flush a pretty shade of pink beneath her light layer of foundation (or powder or whatever it was that made her shimmer slightly).

“This all sounds very elusive, Essi.”

“Exactly! It is! It’s incredibly elusive! And yet, what is it about a certain song that we can all agree sounds ‘melancholy’? How do we, as artists—poets, actors, sculptors, writers, musicians, gallerists, interior decorators—curate affect in a way that’s consistent and predictable?”

“Hm…” Eskel had forgotten about being charmed by his companion and was now fully invested in the inquiry at hand. He felt confident that he’d pieced it together so far. “So: how do lyrics and melody work together to form a cohesive, wide-reaching atmosphere...”

“—And how does the singer or musician facilitate that? Precisely.”

“It sounds like you’re digging into some interesting corners. Are you enjoying it?”

“I’m finding it invigorating,” the pink of her cheeks only served to intensify the blue of her irises as they flashed brightly up at him.

“I’m happy to hear that. It isn’t always the case,” Eskel stopped, having reached the top of the hallway leading to his office. “I should get to work, but. Thank you for the company. You’re thinking about a lot of interesting things.”

“A roundabout way of saying I’m interesting, perhaps.” There was no flirtation in her voice, no slyness on her face, but Eskel felt his face grow warm all the same. He couldn’t decide what was worse: that she wasn’t flirting but stating the obvious; or that her stating the obvious had the same effect as flirting.

“Yes, well. Duty calls,” he gave Essi a polite wave and turned towards his office.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

He stopped. “Sure” he replied stiffly, privately bracing himself for the inevitable question. Fine. Alright. It’s natural to be curious.

“What’s the L stand for?”

Eskel turned back to face her, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. “Sorry?”

“Eskel L. Varga. What’s the L for?”

“Oh! Sorry I thought…” he scratched gently at his right cheek and Essi’s heart sank. How many callous people had imposed their curiosity on him? A spark of protective anger shot up inside her as she watched his hand and she had an overwhelming urge to reach for him. “It’s, uh, it’s for Llewlyn.”

She swallowed heavily, restraining her hand as it twitched by her side, wanting to touch, to ease, to unburden. “You thought I was going to ask about something else that’s none of my business.”

Eskel rocked on his heels, examining the various dings and dents in the linoleum tiling, “Yes.”

“That’s none of my business.”

“Thank you,” he looked up, his free hand now in his pocket. “Most people don’t… I should go.”

“Have a good week, Eskel.”

“You, too.”

To say that Eskel retreated behind his office door would be a bit of an overstatement. But in the quiet solitude of his own private space, he had a moment to collect himself, to temper the intense vulnerability pressing on his chest. But there was another feeling, too, that felt more… elastic. A buoyancy driven by stimulating conversation and pleasant company; he was impressed, incredibly impressed; and despite his better judgement there was a part of him that hoped he would see her again on Friday morning.

Essi made her way to class with an indelible smile on her face as she struggled to convince herself that it was a professor’s job to listen to eager students and find their research topics interesting. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening. She didn’t know what, just yet, but it was something. Only time would tell.

______

@morethangeraskier @the-space-between-heartbeats @just-a-sad-donut @oxenfurt-archives @thirstyforred @titaniafire @belalugosisdead @lonelygayz @awkward-turtles-world @iloveyouyen @criminaly-supernatural@friendlybelladonna @enkelikauneus @sulkyshengshou

#Essi x Eskel #Essi Daven #Modern AU #Witcher AU #rarepair #Essi/Eskel #Profskel #The witcher #Eskel

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

.. for mermay.. 8, indruck nsfw?

Here you go! Duck’s design is based on a rudderfish.

Authors note: since prompt 8 is “drunk,” drinking is mentioned in this. It’s also implied Indrid is doing some self-destructive behaviors to cope with trauma.

The party is a splendid success, as was the book launch that preceded it. Indrid has done what he does best, lined his pockets and those of his agents and editors, and gotten everyone talking.

“Did you see the one of the pyres?”

“The one of the hurricane aftermath, the look in the girls eyes is so haunting.”

“Personally, I found the jeweled mummies a bit much, but the emergency room shots? Stunning.”

This is why Indrid is sitting on the rocks on his private cove, and will not be going back up to the house until he’s polished off all three of these heavily spiked bottles of eggnog. It’s better than the time he emptied most of a bottle of vanilla vodka, but not by much.

He was tipsy when he snuck out the back door and down the path to the sea. So when the empty bottle rolls away, all he can do is whap at the air close to it and wave as it plonks into the water.

“Oops. Hic, oh, hic, well, what’s one more piece of trash in, hic, a dying world?”

He yelps, knocking his remaining bottles into the sand as the lost one flies through the air towards him. Or he thinks that’s the trajectory; it’s hard to tell. The point is, the bottle is back and he’s clutching his chest like an old man in a silent movie.

“Look, man, I know it’s temptin to just leave trash everywhere, but there are signs up and down this beach sayin not to litter.” A man floats in the water at the foot of the rock, black hair plastered to his forehead and muscular arms crossed over a bare chest.

“It, hic, it was an accident. And I am, hic, in no condition to retrieve anything from the water.”

The man frowns, “shit, if you’re that drunk, you oughta get off the rocks. It’s deep here, you might drown. Go sit on the sand, it’s safer. Warmer too, still holdin heat from the sun.”

“I, I’m fine, hic, don’t, don’t need some wet man babying me.” He stands to prove his point, nearly falls face first into the water, and sits back down, “see, m’fine.”

“Get off the rock.” The man says, sounding for all the world like a cat owner two seconds from grabbing the spray bottle.

“No.” Indrid huffs.

Water splashes his face and he sputters.

The man pulls his hand back, preparing to send another wave at him, “Get.”

“Fuck you”

The splash is much more intense this time and he curses, scrambles sideways, and falls to his knees in the sand.

“That’s better, now I don’t gotta worry about fishin your careless ass outta the water.”

“If, if we are, hic, t-talking careless, you, you shouldn’t say a thing. You’re, hic, swimming in cold water with, without a wetsuit.”

The man shrugs, “Don’t need one.” With that he floats on his back, bringing a dark-scaled tail into view.

“You’re, hic, you’re a merman.” He crawls forward, breathless, “that’s so cool, wanna, gotta photograph you, so handsome, gotta-”

“Nope” The merman swims back into deeper water, “no pictures, those can end real bad for us.”

“But, but you’re so beautiful. If, hic, if pictures are no good, I, I can draw. I draw good, even if no one likes it.”

“Uh, you really wanna sit on a cold beach paintin my picture instead of hangin out at that shindig?” He points up the hill to the brightly lit house.

“No, nonono, hic, don’t, don’t wanna go back up there, s’awful, hic.”

“Awful?” The merman sounds concerned, and in the patchy moonlight he swims close enough that Indrid can see the details of his face, “is someone up there hurtin you?”

“No” He shakes his head, “it, it-”

“Indrid!”

“Damn it.” He mutters as the merman retreat beneath waves. As his guests grow closer he stands, carefully picks up all three bottles, and heads uphill to meet them.

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

Indrid shuffles through the house, head pounding, decides he hates the following people, in this order:

-His agent

-Himself

-Whoever mentioned it was a shame there were no Plata River Bridge photos, causing Indrid to drink a whole martini in order to bite his tongue.

It’s not until his third cup of coffee that he remembers the merman. God, he was really rude to someone who was just trying to keep him from drowning.

Very, very carefully, he makes his way to the beach, sketchbook in one hand and thermos in the other.

“Hello?” He calls across the water. No reply. Of course there isn’t; the merman has the whole ocean to explore, there’s no reason for him to hang around Indrid’s house. He sighs, sits down on a piece of driftwood, and draws. Normally the cold would drive him back indoors, but today it’s bracing, blowing his hangover off of him and down the sand.

“Glad to see you’re in one piece”

Indrid sits bolt upright. The merman waves to him.

“You came back?”

“Yeah? I mean, this is part of my rounds, so I come by here at least once a day. More surprised you’re down here when it’s all cold and grey.”

“I, ah, I wanted to apologize for last night. I was being stubborn and rude.”

“You were, but I was kinda grumpy too. At the end of my shift and all that, but I shouldn’t have splashed you.” He smiles, swims closer, “do you, uh, remember any of the other stuff you said?”

“I have a vague memory of begging to photograph you. Or maybe draw, it’s all very fuzzy.”

“You did. I, uh” the merman’s cheeks turn pink, “you were really, uh, well let’s just say you were excited at the idea of drawin me, so I thought maybe, if you wanted to..”

“Yes” Indrid shifts down into the sand so he can rest his back on the log, “can we do it now? You said you were on rounds, and if you’re working I don’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m done for the day. Should I get on a rock or somethin?”

“Can you come on the sand at all? Oh, ah, it seems you can.” Indrid scoots back as the merman slides gracefully ashore. In the daylight, his tail is a rich green-brown, his hair streaked with grey near his forehead. His eyes, one green and one brown, regard Indrid with curiosity as he turns to a new page.

“You got a name?”

“Indrid. Indrid Cold.”

“Duck Newton. It’s a nickname.” The mer stretches his arms and tail, and were Indrid in a self-flattering frame of mind he’d say he was flexing for him, “I gotta pose?”

“No, as long as you don’t move too much, I should be fine.”

Duck nods, shifts onto his belly with his tail dipped in the surf. Indrid sets his pen to paper, asks Duck what he does for work and when the tunnel vision of his project dissipates, it’s dusk.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long.”

The merman yawns, “S’okay, it was nice talkin with you, and I got to birdwatch some. Can I see?”

Indrid turns the sketchbook. Mis-matched eyes widen.

“Holy fuck. You made me look damn good.”

“I simply captured you as you are.” Indrid feels a blush moving up his cheeks as Duck scoots closer.

“You gonna do this tomorrow? If, uh, if you don’t wanna draw me again, I can bring you some interestin stuff from the water. If, uh, if you want.”

His schedule for tomorrow starts with a phone interview, after which he was planning to sit in a dark living room and watch mindless T.V.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you, Duck.”

The merman beams, waves, and then pushes back into the sea, raising his tail once in farewell.

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

“...now, Juno thinks it’s-holy fuck ‘Drid, was that your stomach?” Duck raises his head from where he’s been sort-of-napping, sort of talking.

“Hmm? Yes, I suppose it was.” He has his watercolors out today, a surprise stretch of sunny days rendering the beach and hillsides in glorious technicolor.

“When did you last eat?”

“..............”

“Oh my fuckin god, ‘Drid, no wonder you look like you’re close to passin out.”

“I’m fine.”

Duck has that look on his face again, the one he got when Indrid admitted to walking the cliff-side trails when he’s coming back from the roadhouse on the edge of town. When Indrid says he hasn’t slept in two days.

The merman says nothing, goes back to reading the book of nature essays Indrid brought him. A buzz cuts through the air and he groans, shuts off the alarm on his phone, “I need to go get ready for that interview.”

“You wanna meet up tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Great. But, uh, seem to remember you promised me some of those cookies you say are the best in the world.”

Indrid smirks, “I suppose I did.”

“I want some. But not for dinner, with dinner. You feel me?” There’s an edge in his drawl, as formidable and unyielding as the nearby cliff-face.

“Alright, I'll bring you some other things to try.” Indrid smiles, suddenly looking forward to a grocery run.

Duck, now in the water, looks over his shoulder, “Good boy.”

Indrid shivers even as heat blooms in his chest.

When sunset graces the beach, Indrid is busy setting out a half dozen take-out containers and many plastic boxes of cookies and fruit.

“Damn” Duck slides and wiggles his way onto the sand by the blanket, “you went all out.”

“You wanted a meal. I brought you one.”

“Sure did.” Duck sniffs the air, taps a carry-out bowl of soup, “what’s this?”

“Umm” Indrid peers at the label, “french onion soup.”

“Can I have it?”

“Of course.”

The merman downs the soup as fast as temperature allows, munches happily on the orange segments Indrid peels and samples the cookies.

“Ahhh” He flops his head into Indrid’s lap, “that hit the spot.”

The human nods, bottle of pineapple soda on his lips. He’s so happy and full.

Wait.

“Duck? Did you suggest this just so I would eat something?”

The face in his lap only looks a little chagrined, “Kinda. I been meanin to suggest this, and today seemed like the right time. And, uh, I know sometimes I have a hard time lookin after myself for me, but if someone else tells me to do it, or I have to do it as part of lookin after them, it’s easier. Thought that might be goin’ on with you. I, uh, I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

“Nono” Indrid sets a hand in his hair, stroking it so Duck rubs his cheek against his thigh, “you’re right. It was easier to do the kind thing for myself when you told me to. Would, ah, would you be willing to do it again.”

Duck meets his eyes, gaze bubbling with something dark and alluring, “Sure thing, ‘Drid.”

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

“Before you go, I wanted to give you this.” Indrid holds out the small camera. Duck, perched on a rock, takes it with a puzzled frown. He adds, “It’s waterproof. You mentioned you wish you could take pictures of the things you see in your home. I couldn’t think of a better time to give you than your trip.”

“Thanks, ‘Drid.” Duck leans forward, rubbing their cheeks together, “you remember your instructions?”

“Yes.” He whimpers when Duck pulls back.

“Good. Want you in good shape when I get home.” Duck’s voice returns to normal, “should be back in a week. I’ll see you then.”

Indrid waves goodbye, keeps waving well past the point where Duck could see him, even if he surfaced. Then he grabs the basket of fresh oysters and heads to the house to call Barclay.

The phone calls and dinners with one of his few friends in town are part of his agreement with Duck. The mer told him he couldn’t meet every night, so maybe Indrid should find other forms of company. He also helpfully supplies Indrid with fresh shellfish that he has no idea how to cook, but his friend the professional chef certainly does. This dovetails nicely with his promise to Duck to eat at least one full meal a day.

It’s not just the strange dynamic they’ve hit upon that’s improving his life; it’s Duck. The merman makes him feel so safe, like someone cares about the real him and not just the him that makes them money or feeds their morbid curiosity. Not to mention he’s even more handsome than Indrid first thought and he spends plenty of nights jerking off to the thought of a cool, strong tail between his legs.

He does well the first five days Duck is gone. Barclay and Dani come over for dinner, he paints and draws prolifically, and he even reads up on whether it’s feasible for him to adopt rats (“those are kinda like otters, right?” “close enough.”). Friday night his agent calls, excitedly reporting that it’ll soon be the fifth anniversary of the Plata River incident and the magazine is getting requests for a feature on it and Indrid will be perfect.

Indrid says he’ll think about it, hangs up, and opens the fridge. He promised Duck he’d only drink if it was with dinner or with friends. He grabs two wine coolers and heads into the living room.

The next day, he’s idly fiddling with the dating app he hasn’t touched since December when a new profile appears. Very good looking, close by, clearly just passing through town, and interested in Indrid. He invites him over, spends the next half hour getting ready, and even cleans the bedroom because well, that’s what he’d do for Duck, he should do it for anyone else he brings over.

Indrid opens the door at the second knock. The guy takes one look at him, shakes his head, and returns to his car.

Indrid downs the remaining wine coolers and goes down to the beach to sulk. He tucks his legs up, pressing his forehead to his knees, and rocks back and forth. He’s nearly sober when a voice drifts across the waves.

“‘Drid?”

He looks up, glasses slipping down his nose, “Duck? You’re, you’re back.”

“Yep. It was fast goin the last ten miles. Brought the camera back, think you gotta be the one to get the pictures off, but I can’t wait to show you all the cool shit we saw.”

“Me neither” He stands and instantly pitches forward, landing on his hands and knees in the shallow water.

“You been drinking?”

“Yes.”

“You and Barclay have a good time?” He’s giving him the benefit of the doubt, giving him an out, and Indrid decides that isn’t what he wants.

“I wasn't with Barclay. I got horrible news last night, and today I tried to get laid and got rejected, and I’m at the point in my life where I nearly called after the guy that he could keep his eyes shut and I’d just blow him so he wouldn’t need to look at or touch me. So yes, Duck, I’ve been drinking.”

Duck’s expression swims between concern and disappointment, then comes to rest on neutral steel, “That ain’t what we agreed.”

“I’m aware. But I don’t care, I don’t” he aims a splash at Duck, “it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, nothing will come of it, same as always.”

The merman cocks an eyebrow, “You really think that? You forgettin I said there’d be consequences if you broke the rules?”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.” Indrid splashes him again.

Duck smiles, reminding him that all his teeth end in points, “Didn’t say anythin about scarin you. You really wanna believe that nothing matters, you can head home. Or” he points to a nearby rock, “you go get on your hands and knees, facin the cliffs.”

Indrid crawls gracelessly to the designated spot. It’s dangerous to turn his back on the ocean, but a gentle voice in his mind reminds him over and over that Duck is here. Duck won’t let him get hurt.

There’s a splash as Duck pulls himself onto the rock. Then a whoosh of air and a sting in the right side of his ass. He yelps, startled, and looks behind him.

“If this ain’t okay, need you to say so now.” Duck’s eyes are wide and hungry, but his hands stay on the grey rock.

“It’s okay.” He can’t believe this is happening, can’t decide if he should tell Duck this is not remotely a punishment.

Another sharp grin, “Eyes front.”

Indrid’s barely obeyed when the next strike comes. Duck is strong and makes no attempt to hide it, hitting him hard enough that his knees jolt forward in the sand. The pain lights him up each time, forces the thing knotted in his chest up towards his throat.

When the blows stop he whimpers, pushing his ass back in hopes of more.

“Don’t worry, ‘Drid, I ain’t done with you by a long shot.” Cold fingers undo his fly, bring his pants and underwear down to his thighs. He’s expecting another hit, wiggles his ass in anticipation.

What he gets are teeth sinking into his skin.

“AH!GOD” He yells loud enough that his throat hurts.

Duck chuckles, “Holler all you want, we both know no one can hear what goes on on this beach, especially with all the wind.” He bites down again, Indrid thrashing and moaning as teeth sink into already reddened skin. Duck growls in reply, savaging the meat of his as and grazing his teeth along his thighs, dangerously close to his balls. He’s already getting hard, the process expedited by warm breath and lips on his body.

He moans embarrassingly loud when Duck shoves his ass apart.

“Damn, you really did get all prepped for that fella. Shame, he didn’t know what he was missin.” The plug hits the sand to his right.

“You, you don’t have to flatter meEEEoh, oh Duckohmygoodness.” His fingers dig into the sand as the merman teases his rim with a flexible tongue. There’s a muffled laugh, but Duck doesn’t respond beyond that, too busy threatening him with a good time as his tongue gives an experimental push.

Then it retreats and he turns his head left and right, delivering quick bites to either cheek before his tongue returns. He alternates between the delicious, teasing licks and painful bites, the shift never coming when Indrid expects and causing him to cry out every time. When the mer releases one side of his ass in order to slap his thighs while he continues licking, kissing, and nipping his way across bruised, sensitive skin, Indrid lets out a strangled sound, the thing in his chest now trapped at the back of his throat.

“You make such cute noises, but they ain’t the ones I’m lookin for. I ain’t stoppin until you apologize.”

Indrid opens his mouth, intending to say something about how this is the wrong way to make him do so.

“I, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry with me, don’t leave, don’t leave me here, I can’t, I, I don’t want to think about it, Duck please, I’m sorry, so sorry” he;s hunched forward, sobbing into the sand, when he realizes he’s fully clothed and Duck isn’t behind him.

“No” he squeaks, “no please don’t go.”

“I ain’t goin anywhere.” Duck slides up the sand next to him, pulls him into his arms, “I’m so sorry darlin, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I took it too far, I ain’t mad, not really” he eases Indrid’s glasses off and sets them out of harms way, “oh darlin, c’mere, it’s okay” salty kisses dot his forehead and green scales pet his legs.

“It’s, hic, it’s not your fault. I, I l-liked it, but this has, hic, been building up for months. Years.” He hides his face in Duck’s chest.

“Years?” Duck grabs Indrid’s sweater from where he cast it off, draping it over the human.

Indrid sniffs, “You know I’m a photographer. But I’ve never told you what I photograph. I, I made my name recording disasters and their aftermath. For a long time I took pride in it; someone has to document those things, so we can’t erase them, so we have to confront them and try to make things better, or try to keep such tragedy from reoccurring. I was so good at recording it I became famous. Wealthy. And I learned that most people like to gawk at horror and then go about their days. I, I tried branching out and...and I ended up with a disaster anyway. A bridge collapse, I chronicled everything from the instant it started to the funerals and it, it was too much. Ever since then I’ve felt trapped by my work. At times, by my life. My agent wants me to go back for the fifth anniversary, he told me so last night.”

“You ain’t goin, right?”

“I don’t think I can.”

Duck nods, rests his chin atop his head, “tell me what you wanna do instead.”

He does. He tells him about his other art, about the pitches for childrens books and the plans for a real vacation, about the life that, for the first time, feels in reach when he speaks about it. By the time he’s done the stars are out and he’s much calmer and clear-headed.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? That, that you thought I was attractive?”

“Every damn word.” Duck rolls them so Indrid is on his back, kisses his cheek, “thought so since that first night. But, uh” his gaze flicks down to Indrid’s crotch, “if you want more proof I’m happy to give it.”

“Please?”

“Get your pants off and lay on your sweater.”

Indrid complies, shivers when Duck guides his shirt up and off.

“Fuuuuck” the mer rubs his hands up and down his torso, “when it warms up, you’re gonna swim out with me so I can get my fill of this while you ride my dick.”

“Yes. Ah, I, I did prep, but it’s been long enough now that lubrication may be an issueOOOh, ooohyes.” He release into the sand as Duck grinds his tail against his cock. The scales feel as lovely now as they do when he pets them, and he wonders if Duck will let him get off by humping his tail one of these days.

“It won’t, trust me. Lemme just--there we go. Open your legs. Heh, eager little thing.”

“I’ve wanted this too long to play coy.”

“Good.”

“Eeep!” Something slick and squirming presses into his ass, “do, do you have tentacles?”

“Kinda? They’re just the tip, for this exact reason. It, uh, it feel okay?” Duck smiles reassuringly and that, combined with the genuine concern in his voice makes Indrid moans and nudge him closer.

“VeryOH, oohgracious” two more tentacles join the first, pulsing and scissoring him open, “how many are there?”

“About eight.”

He moans louder and Duck laughs, pushes his hips forward, “glad you like it, darlin’. Because from where I’m sittin your ass is fuckin amazin and I wanna be as deep in it as I can.”

“Yes, absolutely, pleaseAHHnnn” enough tentacles now that he can’t keep an accurate count, “please use it as you see fit.”

“As I see fit huh? That’s a tricky question. See, sometimes I wanna, fuck, wanna shove the whole thing in you at once and make you scream while I leave my mark on your neck.”

“AHHnnngod” A firmer shaft pushes in, ridges rubbing all the right places as the tentacles continue exploring him.

“Other times, think it’s better to tease you with the tip, maybe make you blow me first and jerk you off until you’re beggin for my dick.”

“Yes, yesyesyesyes”

“But tonight” Duck bottoms out with a groan, “I’m gonna take it nice and slow, show you just how fuckin wonderful you are. How much you mean to me. My Indrid.”

“Yours” Indrid twines his limbs around him, “god, Duck, it feels so good, you’re so good, you always look after me.”

“That I do. Because you deserve it. And” the tentacles find his prostate and he nearly howls as Duck continues, “you deserve to learn how t’be nice to yourself. And I, ahfuck, know that ain’t easy, but I’m gonna be here to help.”

“Yes, ohgod, yes, you’re, you’re so perfect, aaAAAhnI, I’m, close sweetheart, you fill me so well.”

“Damn right. Gonna, nnngh, gonna find every fuckin way to fill you, make you feel fuckin amazin, fuck, that’s it darlin, ohfuckyeah” as he starts spilling into him, Indrid cums with a shout, splattering their stomachs. Duck moans at the sight, wriggles his hips as his shaft continues rippling and pulsing. It turns out mer orgasms are long, so long that Indrid is whimpering from overstimulation by the time Duck pulls out.

A gentle, salt-soaked kiss to his lips, “Lookit you, took it all. You’re so good for me, darlin.”

“Mmmhmm” He doesn’t want to let go, cold, wind, and damp be damned. Duck seems to understand, holds him and whispers sweet promises in his ears until he’s shivering.

“‘Drid, your teeth are chatterin.”

“I kn-know, I s-should g-go home and w-warm up.”

Duck kisses him again, “sooner you go and rest, sooner we can do this again.”

“An excellent p-point.” He stands, blows a shaky kiss towards his future, “see you tomorrow.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills #mermay

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drethanramslay · 4 years ago

Text

A funny thing called Fate- Prologue

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 2.8K words

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warning: None really, just a little cursing

Author’s note: I had been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan and that is actually the primary spark which led me to come up with this series. Shout out to @mvalentine and @anotherbeingsworld fo letting me bounce my crazy ideas <3

AHHH so it is finally here!! This is my first time writing Bryce so I hope I can do justice to this beautiful man. This starts with Aisha’s (MC) POV and like I said, there will be a time jump. It would be first person when I’m writing in the past and then it will shift to third person when I’m writing the present. I think i should stop my rambling and let’s go!!

Terms you need to know-

-Bhaiya: Brother in hindi

-Beta: Technically it means ‘son’ but in most Indian families its used like a term of endearment too

- AIIMS, Delhi: Stands for All India Institute of Medical Sciences. This is one of the best medical schools in the country and Only 100 people out of 200,000(or more) get in. So it is very cut throat.

10 years ago- Aisha's PoV

(Age: 16)

I am done.

Done with all the drama, done with all the lies, done with all the manipulations and done with all the heartache.

And most of all, I was done with him- the infamous Bryce Lahela.

The boy with the stupid long hair, the stupid signature smirk and the stupid charm. Those amber eyes which reminded you of the sand and sea and those lips on which an everlasting smile played used to be like a breath of fresh air. I always thought that he was so unique, but boy was I wrong.

All boys are the same.

I really thought that jocks like him would be different huh? Can someone just hand me my clown shoes?

But luckily, I don't have to see his face ever again because for once, instead of making a mockery of my existence, life decided to give me something that I really wanted badly.

A chance to leave all of this in my past. A chance to start over again.

My dad had a better business opportunity back in Mumbai. I am an Indian and we lived in Delhi since the time I was born but we shifted to Mauii when I was in the ninth grade because of how demanding dad's job was getting

Bhaiya chose to stay back in Delhi because his engineering college was there and he enjoyed the hostel life way too much. And he had finally managed to get out of our toxic household so I really could not blame him.

So yeah.. that is how I ended up in Maui in the first place.

It was okay in ninth grade. I kept to myself and blended in with the shadows (because hello social anxiety!). But... Tenth grade changed everything.

It was one of the best and worst year of my life and I often wonder if I could ever get over this.

I am definitely sounding like one of those over-dramatic Indian soap operas my mom watches every night.

"Aisha? Are you ready? The car is here beta."

"Yes, Mama. I am coming!! Just packing up some stuff."

Breaking out of my reverie, I stuffed in my phone and other essentials into my carry bag. As I was zipping up my luggage, I yanked open my closet door to see if I left anything behind my eyes landed on the shoebox I had stuffed in the back of my closet.

I gulped and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. A part of me wanted to take it for it had all the trinkets of the good things in my relationship with Bryce but, another part of me knew that if I took it with me, I would never be able to move on and that would completely defeat the purpose of this fresh start I have been looking forward to.

So with a heavy heart, I looked away and shut the door of the closet, picked up my luggage and left.

As the Uber pulled out of the curb I stared out of the window, to look at the beaches I had come to love and hate.

I liked Maui, I really did but all that it was reduced was a place where I was humiliated and belittled.

And it was all his fault.

PRESENT

(Age: 27)

"Oh my god. I'm gonna late!!" Aisha screeched as she saw the time on her phone. She shoved the duvet off her and jumped out of bed. She tried running to the bathroom in her small closet-sized apartment but it just ended up with her stubbing her toe against the coffee table.

"Ow ow ow." She cursed as she hobbled into the washroom and got on with her daily chores. Her hand-eye coordination was already awful and add that she was sleep deprived just made the entire thing worse. Stumbling, tripping, cursing she managed to brush her teeth and hop into the shower. The burst of cold water managed to wake her up as she furiously washed.

Why did I have to move into a room under a busy staircase?! This is why bhaiya says- Do your research. She angrily thought to herself as she wiped herself rigorously and zipped open her suitcase, searching for her semi-formal clothes.

Grabbing a granola bar and her trusty thermos of coffee, she was on her way to Edenbrook.

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

As she entered the atrium, she was in complete awe. It looked big and majestic on the outside, with a clever mix of brick walls and the glass facade, making it look welcoming. Sunshine poured through the atrium as the various doctors and nurses worked around her, not giving mind to the clueless intern gawking.

"Hi, I'm Dr Ines Delarosa, a senior resident!! You look lost. Let me guess... the first day of residency?" A short woman in a doctor's coat walked up to her breaking Aisha from her awe, her aura full of happiness, rainbows and unicorns which made Aisha a little vary.

Is it normal to be this happy and energetic?

Aisha nodded hesitantly and the resident smiled a hundred-watt smile. "Great. You are gonna need a photo ID. Follow me, I will get you all set up." Wordlessly Aisha followed Ines, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, nervously playing with the strap.

It is going to be fine... Aisha breathed out as she entered a room with a white background and a camera before it. "Just step over here, in front of the camera and smile."

And waste my energy? No thanks.

She schooled her features to be as professional as she could and the flash of the camera went off. Aisha walked over the tangled wires and peeked at the screen. A serious face stared back at her, the lighting doing good to her brown skin. Her nose piercing caught light and her dark mahogany hair was tied up in a neat ponytail.

"Is it okay? Or do I need to retake the photo?"

"No, it is great! I like it. Thank you."

"Well I will just stick this on your ID.... and you are good to go!! I wish I looked that good in my ID." She said and cheerfully and once her eyes fell on the title a smile made its way on her face,

Dr Aisha Khurrana... It is real and it is true.

"My first day as a real doctor." she whistled lowly shaking her head as if she didn't believe it.

"I was in your shoes last year. Believe me, med school was nothing compared to this. Your three years of residency will be the toughest, most amazing year of your life!! But the first year as an intern will be the craziest of all."

As soon as the smile had graced her features, it slipped away and she nodded seriously. "I think I am ready for it. I have been dreaming and slogging my ass so that I could work in Edenbrook. Ever since I learnt that Ethan Ramsey worked here. His research basically pushed me to apply for med school."

Also, the fact that my parents can like shut up about me being worthless.

"That is great. I will just walk you to the locker room so that you can change into scrubs." Ines offered and Aisha gave her a small smile.

"So... Any advice?"

"Make friends..."

And I am out. She thought to herself. She always struggled with making friends and that is partly the reason why she would keep to herself all the time. Sure she did make a few gem of a friends in med school but if she had to choose between mingling with strangers and drowning, you know what she would choose.

"... with your interns, year senior residents, even your patients! Friends will get you through anything. And, uh, try to not annoy the Attendings! You do not want to get on your boss's bad side."

"Noted."

After changing she was just passing through the waiting room so that she could get to the orientation when she heard gasps from the seating area. A woman had collapsed on her seat and the people were crowding around her.

Her instincts kicked in and she ordered. "Give her space. Everybody step back! I'm a doctor."

She hurried over to the woman just as another doctor rushes in. He kneeled at her side and checked her pulse. "Pulse is weak. She's unresponsive." He looked up and his eyes landed on her.

"You Rookie. Get here."

"Right away doctor. Coming!" Aisha hurried over as the doctor lifted the fainted woman on to the nearby gurney.

"What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?"

"No, she'd just walked in."

The doctor's piercing blue eyes landed on her which made her straighten her back. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her fast, she's going to die on this table. Rookie, check B.P."

Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm and she pumped the bulb, peering at the numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypotensive. We've gotta get fluids in her."

Aisha's eyes wandered over the woman's form, trying to search for more clues. Her eyes landed on the rapidly forming bruise on her elbow.

"Doctor... Look at this bruise. I think it's a sign that she is a haemophiliac."

The doctor replied in a gruff voice. "You think or you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Also can you see the way her fingertips are turning blue? It is a sign of low oxygen saturation in the blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry."

She nodded assertively and slipped the resonator of the stethoscope over the ribs, straining to hear the diminishing whooshing of the lungs which made Aisha gulp in fear.

"Can't hear anything on the left side and the right side is struggling. She is going to suffocate at this rate." She spoke up , her voice struggling to stay calm but as she glanced at the older doctor, he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

"Nurse we have got a code blue." His authoritative voice boomed over as the nurses bustled around the gurney.

Taking the bag mask from the nurse, he secured it around the patient's mouth and gently pump air into her lungs.

"What do we do, Doctor? What's happening to her?" She asked as she noticed the reducing breath rate.

He looked up. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realigning her focus, delving deep into her mind, analyzing the clues.

Hemophilia... low blood oxygen... no lung expansion on one side...

Her brown eyes snapped open as it struck her. "It's a haemothorax!"

A twinkle of approval flickered in the ocean eyes, which vanished as soon as it came. "Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity..."

"... Blocking her lungs from expanding! That's why she can't breathe." Aisha completed the sentence.

Fuck.

"But we can't repair the blood vessel over here."

The older doctor's jaw clenched. "Then we will have to do a emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!"

The nurse hustles around handing her a scalpel and a chest tube, her eyes widening in shock.

She gulped, her nervousness spiking as she sees the doctor lift the shirt of the patient, exposing the side of her rib cage.

"We need a local anaesthetic-"

The doctor interrupted her. "We're out of time and she is already unconscious. Do it now, or the woman's life is on you!!"

She gritted her teeth with determination. I am not loosing a patient on my first day.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. It is just like anatomy class only... this isn't a cadaver but a real person.

But that statement, instead of calming her, it just caused the scalpel to shake in her hand.

The doctor reaches and encompasses her hand. "Hey... You can do this."

Aisha nods stabilizing herself and focusing solely on the older doctor's voice, before she looked down.

"There you go... Nice and easy."

Incision at the fifth intercostal space... anterior.. to the mid axillary line...

And when she was confident enough, she made the perfect incision, a trickle of red following the path of the scalpel.

"Now the tube."

She took and pushed it into the incision and with a spurt, blood started draining out of the chest cavity resulting in the patient to take a deep breath.

Holy shit I did that. I freaking did that.

In the daze of endorphins, she heard the doctor order her surgery, the nurses wheeling the gurney and the onlookers applauding.

She turned towards the attending, excitement pouring out of her in waves. "Doctor.. that was absolutely amazing!!"

It's was as if a switch flipped and the grumpier and sarcastic facade took place. "You're right. It is pretty amazing you didn't get her killed."

Aisha's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what?"

The doctor rambled off, pointing out her mistakes. "Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best."

It took all her might to not scoff.

Excuse me I graduated from AIIMS Delhi, thank you very much.

Swallowing the dying need to go off she spoke in a professional tone. "Amateur? I'm sorry, doctor but it is my first day."

"Well, that is not an excuse you can use because if that patient would have died, the blood would have been on your hands..." He lifted the badge attached to her breast pocket scrutinizing on the surname.

"... Khurrana."

He tossed the id back to her, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a steaming Aisha in her place.

"What a dick." She muttered under her breath.

"Yeah and I'm totally in love with him." A nurse appeared magically out of thin air near her, causing her to jump in surprise.

The kind eyed nurse just rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder which had Aisha bristling. "Don't worry about it, Dr Ramsey is like that to everybody."

Aisha's jaw dropped for the second time. "Wait... Dr. Ramsey as in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

Shooting a knowing glance, he spoke up. "I take it, you're a fan?"

"He's only my medical hero and greatest inspiration. I've read all his research!" Aisha rushed off, horror and excitement rushing through her.

Oh my god I managed to piss of my one medical hero.. I'm such a dumbass.

Noticing the horror of her expression he gave a gentle smile. "On the bright side, you'll get plenty more chances to impress him."

She sighed and looked down to see that her scrubs were stained with blood.

First impression is last impression beta, always remember that. Her father's voice resonated in her mind.

"Dammit, I'm here for five minutes and I'm already a mess. I can't show up to orientation like this!"

"Don't sweat it. There are extras in the locker room. Come I will show you the way..."

She walked into the locker room, looking for her assigned locker. There was a crowd of half naked interns and after mumbling a couple of 'excuse me's', and rubbing shoulders (literally) she made it the end of the room.

As she turned she knocked into another woman in nothing but her undergarments.

"Uh...um.. okay then." Aisha stuttered as she felt the back of her neck heating up.

Thanks to my brown skin no one can see me getting flustered.

"What? See something you like?" She asked cheekily in an Indian accent which eased Aisha up a bit.

"Ha, you wish."

"Aren't you cute?" The woman snickered as she reached for her pants.

"That's what people say, so it must be true."

She reached for her full sleeve shirt before looking Aisha's way. "Desi?"

Aisha snorted. "Obviously. And I'm guessing you too."

"Of course. And I'm guessing that you are definitely not wearing those scrubs."

"What? Didn't you hear? Bloody clothes are like the new trend around here."

There was a moment of silence before both of them started laughing.

"It's good to meet someone from home." Aisha spoke as she pulled her scrub shirt off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Don't count on that yet. I need to see if you are gonna get in my way in this competition."

Aisha smirked as she shut her locker. "Can't say I'm surprised. Can't be desi if the sense of competition isn't ingrained in your DNA."

"Oh my god never thought that I would see Jackie's twin." A familiar manly voice wafted over to them.

Wait a second...

"Shut up scalpel jockey, this is our kind of bonding."

"Oh please, don't scare the newbie aw- oh."

Oh.

She was standing right in front of him. Face to face. The playful amber eyes, with flecks of brown hadn't changed. The long shoulder length hair had been cut and styled to be short and messy.

There was no trace of the surfer boy she met in Maui. He was a man through and through but still, the youth in his eyes poured out in waves, reminding her of the sandy beaches.

But right now those amber eyes were wide with shock.

It's not everyday that you meet your ex of ten years in the locker room of your new job.

"Aisha?"

".... Bryce?!"

HEHEHEH AWKWAARRDDD

Like, comment, reblog and let me know what you think

Bryce X MC: @lilyvalentine @sanchita012 @zeniamiii @lucy-268 @have-aheart @utterlyinevitable @anotherbeingsworld @this-person-is-busy @cryinginthebackseat @mayascherub @jaxsmutsuo @rookie-ramsey @aylamreads @caseyvalentineramsey @choicesalaska

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#anushka writes #oh bryce #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart bryce #open heart #open heart mc #open heart fanfiction #open heart fandom #choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #Aisha Khurrana #a funny thing called fate

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

Text

Grow as we go || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Oh, who said it's true that the growing only happens on your own? / They don't know me and you

a/n: Finally, the last chapter! And the longest lol. I’m really happy you enjoyed this little series. I’ll see all of you around <3 tagging list~ @loeybk @animemelanie360

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。

Heroes got sick too. You knew that, but didn’t expect getting stuck in your room for two days was going to be as miserable as it was. Yes, you were thankful that pneumonia had receeded to a cold thanks to Recovery Girl but, somehow, this cold felt worse than being hit in training. On Monday you were supposed to go back to classes when the cold symptoms were gone, and even if it was only a weekend away, you couldn’t wait anymore. You had already finished the last book you had bought and has streamed all seasons of your favourite series. Having nothing to do plus the weight of knowing you were missing important lessons and trainings had put you in the worst mood to the point you had asked your father not to disturb you unless there was an active fire.

It was Friday afternoon and he had already gone into your room eight times. You chose a movie on Netflix and while the opening credits played, you looked at your door, thinking about the possibility of putting your bookshelf against the door to prevent it from opening. Would it be over the top? Yes. Would it help you be alone at least until your movie finished? Also yes. Before you could really decide, you heard him knocking your door once again. You rolled your eyes, exhausted.

“Dad, please, leave me alone” your door opened and you pressed the spacebar to pause the movie. Turning to your right, you saw your father entering your bedroom and your ex boyfriend following him. You squealed, covering yourself with your sheets, even if you were wearing pajamas.

“Dad!”

“Katsuki came to bring you some homework, I think?” he looked over at Bakugou, who just nodded. He was still in his U.A. uniform. “I’ll leave you too, can I bring you anything?”

“No, thank you” Bakugou said with a small bow. Your father smiled and left your room, closing the door behind him.

A tense silence between the two of you reigned. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to talk first, and if you were, you didn’t know what were you supposed to say. While grades were important in U.A., they mostly relayed on the final exams, which weren’t due in at least another month. There was no need for him to bring you homework and you couldn’t help but think it was an excuse for him to see you. The idea made your heart skip a beat, holding onto the last bit of hope you still had within you.

“Aizawa asked me to give you this” he grunted, opening his backpack and handing you his notebook. You parted your lips, looking at his notebook and then back at him. Of course.

“I knew Aizawa didn’t like me, but this is just sad” you said with a dry laugh. Taking Bakugou’s notebook, you opened it and started looking for the lessons you had missed. Since you figured he wouldn’t just stand there and wait for you to copy a two day’s worth of classes, you took your phone and started taking pictures of all the pages you needed to copy later.

While you did that, you saw with the corner of your eye how Bakugou started walking around your room. Even if he had been at your house a couple of times before, he had never been inside your bedroom. You both had always spent your time in the living room or in the kitchen if you felt hungry. Still, Bakugou would never let you cook as ‘you cut tofu in sticks rather than dices like a maniac’, so he always took the lead. Not that you complained, he knew his way around the kitchen, which made you love him a little bit more.

In one of those occasions, he had met your father. Bakugou had been stirring a pot of miso soup when your father’s keys opened the front door. You went to the living room and greeted him, informing him your boyfriend was visiting. You had talked to him about Bakugou before, since the both of you had been dating for four months. Your heart warmed when you saw your father greeting Bakugou as an old friend and asking what he was cooking. Bakugou’s tense expression was laughable, as he tried his best not to use swear words around him.

Dinner had been great, you father doing his best to make Bakugou feel welcome, asking about school and praising him for such a delicious meal. Finally, your father gave you both some alone time as he went in to take a shower. You wasted no time in teasing Bakugou about being so tense around your father, but also confessed you were really happy you two had actually met. You thanked him for putting in some effort, earning a grump from him, which only made you smile further.

Having your father like Bakugou seemed like a blessing, but it only felt like torture now that he had let him in knowing you hadn’t been together in the last three months. When you talked about your situation with Bakugou with your father, he had asked you to give Bakugou another chance. You said you were waiting for him to sort out his mind and you had already accepted it could take more time than you wished for. ‘Why do you like him so much, anyway?’ you had asked, rolling your eyes. ‘He just seemed to care for you” your father had smiled sadly at you and changed the topic before you started crying once more.

“Weren’t you eighteen?”

You turned your head to Bakugou, who was holding your Jigglypuff plushie.

“I could say the same about your All Might posters” you countered. You looked at each other and, for the first time, the one who let out a snort was Bakugou. You expected him to shot back another comment, but instead he just kept looking around your room. “Denki actually bought it, you know?” you commented, your eyes fixated on Bakugou’s notebook

“What?” Bakugou snapped.

“He got it for Jirou saying it reminded him of her but she got mad and gave it to me” you chuckled at the memory, taking the final photo with your phone and closing Bakugou’s notebook. “Thanks for bringing this. I was already hating myself for getting this sick”

“Yeah, no shit” he muttered, putting his notebook back into his backpack. “How the fuck did you manage to do that?”

“Uhh, I may or may have not forgotten an umbrella on my way back home” you chuckled, scratching the back of your head.

“Why didn’t you see Recovery Girl?”

“I did! If I hadn’t I would have ended up with pneumonia. Now it’s just a cold. My body just needs to rest” you explained, shuffling in your seat. Now that his mission was over, you knew he had to get back, but you didn’t want him to. You hadn’t talked to each other outside of training since the gym incident happened. The first days were mostly because whenever you looked at him, you remembered the way his hands had held you against the wall, making you flustered and losing attention of any chore you were doing. You had been caught staring at nothing several times by your friends, playing Bakugou’s words over and over in your head.

‘I’d rather have this than nothing at all’

You couldn’t have agreed more with him. Even if he hadn’t approached you, you’d rather have him in your room, at least for a little while.

“When did--”

“My mother--”

A chuckle fell from your lips.

“Sorry, it wasn’t important. You were saying something about your mom?”

“That old hag asked me to give you this” he said, looking into his backpack again. He took out a soup thermos, an individual package of disposable chopsticks and handed it to you. Bakugou finally sat on the foot of your bed, his stern expression never leaving his face.

“That’s so nice of her” you smiled, taking the thermos and opening the lid. A smell of soup warmed your body. “Can I?” you asked, grabbing the chopsticks.

“What the fuck you think it’s for?” he rolled his eyes.

You started eating the soup, noticing how delicious it was. Not only that, it was your favourite kind: miso soup. You didn’t know if it was because you were sick, but it made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Humming contently, you picked a piece of tofu and noticed it was cut in sticks rather than dices.

“How did she know I prefer them in sticks?” you asked with an amused expression. Bakugou’s face turned red, and you watched him in awe as he opened his mouth but couldn’t say a thing. The truth suddenly hit you, making you grin widely at the boy in front of you.

“T-the fuck if I know how! Her cooking is shit and--”

“You remembered” you sighed, feeling your eyes burning. You bit your tongue, doing your best to avoid crying. You set the thermos aside and crawled on your bed, getting closer to Bakugou. You finally kneeled in front of him, his eyes watching you wide open while his eyebrows were still characteristically furrowed. “You actually remembered” you repeated in a small voice. His eyes darted sideways, a deep blush still covering his cheeks.

“Of fucking course I--”

You interrupted him by pressing your lips against hiss. Bakugou let out a surprised groan, but it wasn’t long until his hands were on the middle of your back, pulling you closer. You had his face between your hands, not being able to stop smiling as you were kissing him. It was amazing how much your body seemed to have craved him, even though it hadn’t been more than a month since you had last kissed.

Bakugou pulled away, setting his hands on your shoulders. Your smile fell a little when you realized he wasn’t smiling like you hoped: a preoccupied expression covered his face.

“I still haven’t figured it out” he muttered, looking you straight in the eyes. It took you a moment to understand what he was talking about, but your last conversation quickly popped in your mind.

“Oh. I…” you paused, sitting back and taking a deep breath. “I think you have, though”

“I still feel fucking frustrated. Especially now” he grunted, making you laugh.

“You’re just horny” you teased him. Bakugou flicked your forehead.

“Fuck off”

“Did you feel frustrated while you were making the soup?” you asked, changing your kneeling position to a sitting one, a leg bent while the other dangled from the bed. Bakugou stayed silent for a moment, his face scrunching, a tell-tale sign he was trying to concentrate. You remembered seeing that expression when you looked over at him while you were taking a test. Waiting for an answer made you feel uneasy, but you did your best to be patient.

“No” he said after a few moments. You felt the corner of your lip twitching upwards.

“What did you feel?” you saw Bakugou’s eyebrows scrunch again and quickly shook your head. “No, no, forget that. Just… did it feel good?”

“Yeah, I guess” Bakugou shrugged.

“You love me, then” you smile.

“Because I made you soup?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you cooked my favourite soup, cut the tofu how I like it and then brought it to me. Yes, Katsuki, you love me” you grinned, pecking his cheek. You noticed how there was the tiniest of smiles on Bakugou’s face, a sight you had longed for weeks.

“Okay, I love you then”

Bakugou put his arms around you, your face nuzzling against his chest. The smell of caramel and cinnamon invading your senses, making the idea of taking a nap there really enticing. You had missed the feeling of his strong arms around you, making you feel protected, now even more that you knew he loved you. There were no longer idle thoughts wondering what did he think about your relationship or yourself. There was only him, Katsuki, making you feel the most loved you had ever felt. He pressed a kiss on top of your head and you thought you were going to melt right there.

“Wanna stay for a movie?” you asked, raising your head towards him.

“I’m not watching a chick flick” he warned.

“There’s this crime documentary on Netflix, how about that?”

“Fine. But eat the damn soup, it’s going to get cold”

You went back to your original position on your bed, pulling the covers and grabbing the laptop that was left behind. Bakugou sat on your side, grabbing a pillow and using it to rest his back.

Once you two were settled, you pressed play and Bakugou handed you the soup thermos. You took out another tofu and giggled to yourself.

“You love me”

“Already regretting saying that” Bakugou grunted, putting his arm around your shoulders. He let out a sigh and paused the movie again, turning his head towards you. “Listen. I obviously feel a bunch of shit for you. But it’s still… was it that easy? I’ve been putting my fucking head through the wall trying to understand and suddenly the answer was soup?” he asked in disbelief. “I love you. I get that now, but… I’ve never felt that before. So everything is still fucking confusing, not gonna lie”.

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’re both kind of new at this, so please don’t take it so hard. I mean, yes, think about it, analyze your feelings just know that I’ll be right there” you smiled softly,

“Thought you broke up with me ‘cause I couldn’t sort out my fucking feelings” he reminded you.

“Yeah” you let out a small laugh. “I may have been a tad wrong. I mean, you were an asshole and you did need to sort out your feelings, but... trying to understand our feelings isn’t something that just stops. I think our feelings will always change through time. I think loving me now will feel different to loving me one year from now. But as long as, above all that, it is love... we’ll be okay. I just want to keep growing together, you know?”

“You’re so fucking cheesy” Bakugou sighed, but pulled you closer to him. You grinned and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

“But you loooove me” you teased him, making Bakugou roll his eyes at you. “You know, I may have to thank Aizawa for sending you here. I must have been wrong about him hating me”

“He sent Deku. I found that green shit outside of U.A., told him to fuck off and that I would do it myself” he grunted. You laughed loudly besides him, almost dropping the thermos on your lap.

“You’re so fucking cute”

“Shut up and resume the movie, asshole”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha bakugou

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bexo-tic · 4 years ago

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Breath Play - Spencer Reid X Reader

Spencer Reid X Reader Slow Burn

Season 10 Episode 17

Word Count: 3234

The sound of heels clicking overwhelms my senses. I can’t believe I’m here, in the BAU office. Sure, I’ve been here plenty of times during my childhood to visit my uncle, but this time I came to work. My heartbeat slows as I take in the familiar smell of coffee brewing. It’s almost nostalgic, reminding me of the times I’d surprise Uncle Aaron with a visit. My heart aches a little as I think of Aunt Haley, but I push the thoughts from my mind. This is my first day and I need everything to be perfect.

“Y/N,” he smiles warmly as I peek my head into his office. I hadn’t seen Aaron since I left for college, I was too busy working on my degrees. We still called once a week, and that is why it didn’t feel forced or awkward to slide into conversation with him after 8 years.

“Well, everyone is at the table because we have a new case, I can introduce you there.” He leads me out of his office and into a small room filled with only a round table and a screen where the team waits. Their presence makes me nervous. They have all this experience with their job and probably only remember me as Aaron’s little niece if they remember me at all.

“Team, we have a new intern, Y/N Y/L/N. She’s my niece on Haley’s side.” He clears his throat after mentioning her and I can tell he isn’t as over it as everyone would assume. “This is Derek Morgan, Kate Calahan, Jennifer Jereau, David Rossi, and Spencer Reid. And our Tech Analyst Penelope Garcia.”

“Save the pleasantries, Aaron. She knows me,” David says as he gets up to hug me. The smell of his cologne fills my lungs, but not in an overbearing way. He cups my face in his hands. “You’re all grown up; it’s hard to believe.”

“I don’t think I believe it yet either,” I laugh as I sit down and he goes back to his seat.

“I hate to interrupt the joy, but we need to get to Wisconsin, also known as the lovely badger state, home of milk and cheese,” Penelope says. She goes into explaining the case and how the bodies of 3 women had been discovered as late as this morning. I tense my body to keep from shivering at the sight of their photos.

That might be the part that always gets to me, seeing the photos of the victims happy and smiling. I can’t imagine their faces once they realized what was going to happen to them. I watch as they discuss the case, their energy, and ideas building off each other. It happens so smoothly and effortlessly like they aren’t talking about murders. But to them this is normal, maybe they’re a little desensitized to it.

“Whether he knows the victims or not, he’s hit his stride and he’s not gonna take time to cool off. Wheels up in 30,” Aaron says, distracting me from my thoughts. I grab the “go bag” I left in my uncle’s office which is better described as a suitcase on the edge of exploding. It was my first trip and I didn’t know how long we’d stay so I panic-packed what was probably too much clothing. As I leave the office I bump into something hard. I look up and see Derek.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry. I didn’t even look and-” He holds up a hand to stop my rambling.

“It’s fine, it takes more than a suitcase to knock me down,” he says with a smile. I let out a relieved sigh and he continued talking.

“Rossi says you’re fresh out of college. What degrees do you have?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Psychology and a Masters in Criminal Justice.”

“And you’re how old?”

“26, I just took a lot of summer classes,” I shrug.

“Sounds a little like Reid,” he laughs. “Real smart guy, been here since he was 24. He graduated high school at 12.” I feel my jaw open and quickly try to close it.

“That’s um- wow.”

“Insane, I know. Let me help you get to the jet.”

“Yeah, thanks. I was going to ask my uncle where to go.”

“So is having Hotch as an uncle the same as having him as a boss?”

“Mm, I’d say yeah. He’s pretty reserved, but once you’ve known him long enough you can read him like a book. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you, it’s more like he’s too busy thinking to remember to talk to you.”

“Sounds about right,” he chuckles. “Set your bag here and just through that door is the jet.”

“Oh, thanks again for showing me.”

“No problem, Y/N.” He walked onto the plane. It felt strange hearing him call me by my first name when everyone else was referred to by their last name. But maybe I was reading too much into it. It was my first day and we couldn’t have made a bond as he had with everyone else in the 5-minute walk to the jet. I took a deep breath to calm my thoughts and walked through the door.

Already they were discussing the case again. Hearing them bounce ideas off each other and analyze was almost comforting if you forgot they were talking about a murderer. Their dynamic was so in tune like they all held the same vibration. Part of me didn’t want to speak and mess up the flow of the conversation.

“Alright Dave and Reid, go to the Medical Examiner with Em. Morgan and Kate go to the newest crime scene. JJ and I will interview friends and family at the station,” Aaron announced. My fingertips began to tingle with anticipation. This is happening! A part of me was excited to be here. I’d always admired my uncle when I was younger for putting away the bad guys and here I was beside him. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I tried desperately to calm down. It was my first case and I was determined not to mess this up. I didn’t want Aaron thinking I couldn’t handle this and sending me home, so I was determined to keep a calm demeanor.

<<< >>>

“Cartilage around the windpipe was damaged, but the COD was actually a crushed trachea,” the examiner says as he leads us to the victims’ bodies.

“I’m surprised Emma didn’t go into cardiac arrest before then,” Spencer says, looking back at me and David. I nod in agreement because I don’t have anything to counter with. I question why Aaron even sent me with them to the M.E. when I don’t have enough experience to be much help here.

“Nobody has sex for 6 straight hours, not even sting,” David says, pulling my attention back to the report. That’s where it should be. “Maybe he’s interacting with them beforehand.”

“Nonetheless, it’s an endurance test. He’d have to be in pretty great physical shape,” Spencer says. I try to form my own ideas as they talk, to just bring something to the table and not feel like I’m useless and watching from the sidelines.

“Well, do you think strangulation is just the dispatching method, then?” David asks.

“Erotic asphyxiation,” I call from behind them. They both turn to look at me and I feel my heart move up my throat. “I mean, the bruising from repeated strangling and releasing is similar to that.”

“If that’s the case, isn't the pleasure usually all for the recipient?”

“Maybe not for him,” Spencer answers. “Cutting off his victim’s air supply might be how he satisfies his own urges.”

I sigh, I might have just contributed something. I don't want them to think I can’t do anything to help. My eyes wander to the other victims. She has the same bruising as the other victim except her hair is blonde, Donna Rayburn. She almost looks like me, but her eyes are blue, not the dark brown I got from my dad. Noticing all our similarities makes me itch and I feel exposed. I jump when a hand touches my back.

“Hey, we’re heading back to discuss everything with the team,” David says. “Are you alright?”

I can feel Spencer’s eyes burning into me from behind, he’s not very good at acting like he isn’t listening to our conversation. I can’t help but wonder if he thinks I’m even qualified to be here; his intelligence is a little intimidating. He could probably profile circles around me.

“I’m fine, just nervous. First day jitters,” I smile in what I hope is a convincing way. David leads me to the car and I sit in the back on the way to the station. Looking out the window keeps me distracted and I let my mind wander. I wonder how the people who live here feel about the news. Everyone says “It could never happen here”, but somehow it always does.

“Six hours is a long time, especially late at night, for someone to be held and no one to hear anything,” Aaron says as David, Spencer and I make it to the table. Again they delved into a conversation trying to connect the victims. So far, the only thing they had in common was their interactions with the unsub. After what seemed like hours of discussion, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and got up to find coffee.

I found my way to a small kitchen with two coffee pots in it. I grabbed a guest mug and poured in the steaming liquid, leaving enough room for the cream and sugar packets on the counter. A voice behind me makes me jump.

“Did you know Hawaii is the only state in the U.S. that grows coffee?” I turn and find Spencer standing there with his thermos in his hands.

“Um no?”

“Yeah, the ideal coffee growing conditions require high altitudes, rich soil, and tropical climates.”

“Do you start every conversation off with facts?” I ask with a laugh.

“Mostly,” he smiles. “Oh, and I wouldn’t drink that coffee if I were you. Hotch just said we’re heading back to the hotel and regrouping in the morning.”

I checked the time on my phone, 11:33 PM. No wonder I was so tired, with the jet ride and busy day we had. The ride to the hotel felt like it lasted a few minutes, so I must have dozed off in the car. Aaron handed me the key to my room which I shared with JJ. I barely had time to shower before I fell asleep in the white sheets of the bed.

<<< >>>

I couldn’t believe the unsub killed again last night. I knew he would kill again, but it didn’t feel right that I hadn’t noticed. How did we all fall asleep so easily when the murderer we were trying to find had claimed a new victim? And here I was walking around Lynn Boyd’s house as everyone scurried around for evidence. I find my way into her bedroom.

“The bindings, the silk scarf, the rough sex. He’s using ‘Bare Reflections’ to choose his victims,” Rossi says. Finally, another step forward. Last night we concluded the unsub would be a married man, but it didn’t give us much to go off of. A call to Garcia would help us understand more.

‘If this book is mainstream, then his victim pool is large.”

“Garica, did any of the other victims besides Lynn own a copy?” JJ asks.

“Mary Healy had it on her tablet. Donna Rayburn checked it out from the library twice. Emma and Lynn both purchased copies locally.”

Although the book tied our victims together, who even knew how many other married women in the comfort zone owned the book as well. The list of possible targets would be too long to help us tie it back to the unsub.

“And- hey, a lot of the saucy texts are direct quotes from the book,” Garcia says. “Oh! Speaking of texts, I culled them from that he met Mary via message board, Donna at a coffee shop, Emma at the gym, and Lynn, he met Lynn using a fake profile on a discreet dating website for married people.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Rossi said, ending the call.

“Profile?” JJ asked. He nodded in response. The ride back to the station passed in a blink. Maybe it was the satisfaction I was feeling. My fingertips tingled because we were so close to finally catching this guy.

“Based on area demographics, we believe that we’re looking for a physically fit white male in his mid-30s to early 40s,” Aaron starts.

“He’s a homicidal dominant with an interest in role-play,” Callahan continues. They build off each other so smoothly, and the rest of the team keeps it going.

“We believe his charisma has allowed him to latch onto women who are interested in a popular erotic romance novel called ‘Bare Reflections’.”

“In it, a sheltered female teacher falls for a handsome mogul with a dark past who forces her into a submissive role.”

“Despite her initial worries, Amber Stone finds she can’t live without Carson Bare, warts and all.”

“We believe the unsub and his victims are consensually recreating a scenario from this book.”

“In that scene, Carson introduces Amber to BDSM by binding her to a bed as they have rough sex.”

“The unsub uses this role play to get his victims into a vulnerable position before his fantasy takes hold.”

”This has provided the unsub with a victim pool who have dropped their guard.”

“His first victims were single, but his last two were married. This escalation indicates that he may be married himself and probably has a family.”

“This unsubs M.O. takes patience and caution, and is firmly rooted in a need-based desire, which means he won’t be stopping anytime soon. Thank you.” Aaron says, ending the profile presentation. I look back at the crime scene photos trying to piece together the puzzle. I notice Reid quickly skimming through the pages of “Bare Reflections”.

“Are you even reading it?” I ask.

“I can read 20,000 words per minute, so yes.” He doesn't even have to look up when he responds.

“Robot,” I say under my breath as I roll my eyes, but from his smirk, I can tell he heard me.

“There’s not a single mention of erotic asphyxiation anywhere,” he says as Rossi and a detective approach us.

“It’s the unsub’s fetish then.” Rossi’s brows furrow.

“He’s a charmer that knows that some people lose themselves in the moment and others stop at nothing to please their partners,” my thoughts come out loud as I walk towards them. “Somehow he makes his victims feel safe enough to abandon their hard limit.”

“What’s a hard limit?” the detective asks.

“It’s a common BDSM practice. Hard limits are anything that’s an automatic no-go. It differs by person and taste,” Rossi states.

“And a soft limit is an in which a submissive hesitates or places strict conditions on,” Reid pipes up.

“I had no idea that world had so many regulations. Where does he find somebody like-minded?”

“In “Bare Reflections”, Carson Bare takes Amber to an event called a munch.”

“Which is?”

“According to the book, it’s a social gathering for people interested in BDSM.”

“Where the heck do you find that?”

“We should call Garcia.” Reid nods at Rossi.

“I found one,” he says, showing his simple google search. While Rossi and Callahan go to the munch, the rest of us stay behind to go over the case files.

<<< >>>

“He knew crossing state lines would make it more difficult to link the crimes,” Aaron says about the three prostitute murders Garcia has just brought up.

“That’s a very different cooling-off period. I wonder what was so special about those dates,” Detective Pierce questions. Reid grabs an expo marker and turns to the nearest board.

“First kills were in 2000, 2007, and then he went dormant until last year. What triggers him?” He writes all the dates on the board.

“Deaths in the family,” Aaron asks.

“He could keep losing jobs?”

“These are sex crimes so what interferes with sex drive? Children,” Callahan offers. “The addition of a child would disrupt even the happiest of couples.”

“More specifically the births,” Reid nods and you can see the gears in his head turning. “What if each of these kills corresponds to the births of the unsub’s own children?”

“Garcia, how many men in the hunting zone had a child in 2000?”

“16 and because I already know what the follow-up question is going to be, 5 had their second child 8 years ago, and two had their third last year.”

“Were either one of them busted for something like peeping or exposure?” I ask.

“Yes and no, there's a Patrick Jon Murphy. He’s a physical therapist, here’s the thing he was never actually arrested. I do have some sealed family court docs, though, that I’m about to unseal and learn … Oh, when he was 12, he witnessed his neighbor strangle his wife to death in a sex game gone bad.”

“Even though he was only a witness, that moment created a single event imprint on his love map and probably started his interest in breath play.”

“Is his wife interested in BDSM?”

“Uh, no, doesn’t look like it. The Murphy’s have been in and out of couple’s therapy for years.”

“The therapy roller coaster may have been due to intermittent periods of frustration then bliss surrounding the murders.”

“And his urges increase during periods of non-intimacy.”

“If the unsub’s trigger was the birth of his kids, why change the victimology and accelerate the kills now?” I ask.

“I think the guilt he’s felt has been alleviated by ‘Bare Reflections’, and the intense female interest in it has justified his impulses,” Reid answers. Our phones beep as Garcia sends us his address and we race out the door. His house isn’t even that far from the station, it’s crazy that he’s been under our noses the whole time. JJ and Reid come out of the house looking defeated.

“He’s at the nanny’s house, we’ve gotta move!” We don't even have time to buckle up before we're barreling down the road. When we arrive at the house I can see a girl standing at the front door.

"You two take the front of the house, I'm going around back," Morgan declares. I can see him run after the unsub on foot as Callahan grabs the girl inside the house. That must be his daughter. The rest of us storm inside, clearing each room as we make our way through the house. Calls from upstairs lead us into the bedroom where we find a woman tied to her bed. Immediately we untie her as a medic comes in to check her out.

<<< >>>

“So, how was your first case?” Aaron asks as he sits across from me on the jet.

“Um, intense,” I nod and he laughs. “But I really enjoyed helping solve it.”

“I knew you had it in you.” He squeezes my hand. “Want some coffee?”

“No thanks, I’m gonna try to sleep before we land.” I curl into my chair and try to let the tension release from my body as I fall asleep.

#spencer x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #derek morgan #david rossi #kate callahan #jennifer jereau #aaron hotch hotchner #penelope garcia #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader

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ladylynse · 4 years ago

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12. What WIPs do you have going now? Are you excited about them? I MUST KNOW.

Thanks for this! This got long despite me trying to keep it short by only commenting on a few WIPs, so I’ll throw it under a cut anyway.

I’m really trying to focus on finishing up one of my ongoing WIPs being posted off tumblr instead of starting ten million more, I will admit. So, I’m just going to focus on the ones I’ve actually worked on and made some actual progress on (as opposed to only a few paragraphs) since the new year. Naturally, this includes the seven I’m posting off site, which you probably know but I’m listing again because it’s been a while for some of them and you may not. I’ll hold off on commenting about them unless you’re curious about any specific ones (but trust me, I would happily comment; give me any excuse to talk about my stories and I will gladly take it), since you’re more likely to already know about them. These are:

ADJL - Unbound: Jake bears the Mark of the Huntsclan. His destiny is to destroy dragons. What's he supposed to do when he realizes he is one? Huntsclan!Jake AU

DP - Revision: Maddie can’t deny it any longer. If ectoplasm can become blood, there’s more to this story than she ever realized.

DP - Protocol: The world has changed since the Merge. Ghosts--threats--are everywhere, the Guys in White are in control, and trust is a risk when friends can so easily become foes. Dystopian AU (courtesy of competent, world-merging GiW)

DP - Passageway: The Fenton Ghost Portal in the basement lab is empty, broken. Instead, the portal is inside Danny--and even when he knows something's coming, he can’t stop it.

DP - The Trouble with Ghosts: Lancer hadn’t realized how closely young Mr. Fenton’s school troubles-–and the secrets he surely wasn’t telling his parents–-were tied to ghosts until after that encounter with Phantom.

DP/GF - Forewarning: All Dipper knew was that there was something buried in some special thermos behind the shack; all Danny knew was that he had no idea how he'd gotten here.

OtGW/DP/GF/Trollhunters - Down the Rabbit Hole: Wirt had heard a lot of stories about college, but somehow, he still wasn’t prepared for one of his roommate’s crazy friends to smuggle a hatchet into their dorm room.

Another fic I’ve worked on is a continuation of Compromised: (DP) Harriet Cane is trying to get something on Vladimir Masters—photos, dirt, anything—but she’s getting nowhere…until she overhears a private conversation and discovers far more than she bargained for. This one picks up the night the one-shot leaves off, with poor Harriet finding herself in the company of the only person in Amity Park (to her knowledge) who knows the truth about the city’s mayor and his ghostly connections. (On one hand, it feels wrong to lean on a teenager for protection. On the other hand, Danny Fenton clearly knows a lot more about all of this than she does--and even more than his parents do.) I know most people probably aren’t terribly interested in a story centring around an OC, but hey, the appeal of outsider!POV was too strong not to do this one, and it keeps drawing me back to it. It’s fun. Danny isn’t used to dealing with observant people.

Another one of the fics I’ve worked on is a DP/ML crossover I’ve posted odd scenes of on tumblr but that I have fairly planned out on paper. I’ve been trying not to focus too much on this because I know it’s going to be a longer fic, and I’m afraid to start another long fic when I’ve got so many WIPs on the go. It’s been years. It’s silly. I should just start posting it and then I can justify working on it for longer periods of time. It’s not like I don’t know what’s going to happen. I do. And I’m excited for it. I am very excited for it! I finally went to one of my online friends and went “I know you're only tangentially familiar with these fandoms but since you’re not gonna be reading this fic anyway, HEAR ME OUT” and spilled the plot twist to them because I was really proud of it. I’ve had some people guess, but even those who are right aren’t entirely right, which is delightful. (I love red herrings and just general misdirection.)

Now. The other one I’ve worked on--just last week, actually--is a fic I haven’t talked much about on tumblr. I’ve mentioned it, but I’ve only posted a tiny piece of it aside from the odd sentence here and there, and that was years back. It’s a collab fic, so I’m not in it alone, and we’re both not the best at working on it so progress is slow, but we’ve got a plan. And eight chapters already organized and split up and more than dozen scenes besides that. (I am not about to let this fic die; I will finish it by myself if I have to. I have invested too much not to.) It’s a Secret Trio fic, tentatively called Fractured. There are some things I deliberately avoided touching on in Whirlwind solely because we’re playing off that particular connection in this fic. Unlike Whirlwind, though, it’s not set in NYC--it’ll be split across Amity Park and Norrisville. (Also, while we might throw in the odd reference to another show--ML included; my fellow writer wrote one in just for me before they’d even seen an episode--it really is just a ST fic, not a SQ fic.) The part I haven’t yet admitted but will now? This is the ‘real’ sequel to Mirrored. (You might’ve seen me say at some point Whirlwind isn’t the real or the official sequel, and this is why.) Which means I am downright delighted when people read that fic and say they’d still be interested in something else, because it gives me an excuse to go back and work on this without feeling guilty about ignoring the WIPs I’m actually posting. But it’s got some worldbuilding in addition to the weaving together of the crossover, with copious amounts of plot and--naturally--misunderstandings, and it has some fun moments (and I don’t just mean fun for me and harrowing for the reader, though there will definitely be that, too; my collab writer is much better at writing humour than I am, and it shows).

fic writing questions | ask away!

#ladylynse #ask game #asks #my writing #thanks!#kaiobeast

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insfiringyou · 4 years ago

Text

BTS girlfriend series - What they would buy the members for Christmas / how they spend the day together

New readers can find out about our headcanon girlfriends for the BTS members here.

To read each member and their girlfriends’ fics in order, follow links below:

RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

Our masterlist of fanfics and original art (including art works of the girls) can be found here

& Our most likely to/preferences/quizzes and fun stuff masterlist can be found here

You may also be interested in our past post for the members on what they would buy their girlfriend for Christmas

Content below the cut

Ji-eun (RM’s girlfriend)

Ji-eun would put a lot of thought into her Christmas presents and is someone who would actually put a lot of importance on the big day itself. As someone with a busy, stressful job, she would allow Christmas to be a time where she, for once, puts everything down and can enjoy spending quality time with those she loves. We also think Christmas would be a time which takes her back to her childhood and reminds her of happier, easier times. While keeping things fairly minimal and classic, she would like decorating a tree and the home a few days prior, especially if Namjoon was with her to help. She would also enjoy the more domestic aspects of cooking the dinner and wrapping presents, which is something she might not usually get time to do at other times of the year.

For a gift, she wouldn’t mind spending quite a lot of money on a thoughtful present for Namjoon but would not go too overboard. It would be more about the gift itself than the money spent, so if she did find something cheaper but which she knew he would like, she would go for that. She would not be afraid to put the time and research into finding something he would love. Gifts would include a timeless but unique watch, art prints or original paintings and coffee table books on art and architecture; something that would look good in the home as well as being informative. As they enjoy travelling together, visiting historical landmarks and museums, she would have a good idea on the type of art or architecture he is interested in, and it would be a bonus if she too enjoyed it, so they could find out more together. She would love cuddling up with him in the evening, both full from their dinner, and reading the book she bought him together with a glass of mulled wine.

Min-seo (Jin’s wife)

Min-seo and Jin would both get very excited about Christmas in the weeks leading up to it. Of all the members they would start their Christmas shopping and decorating the earliest, especially once they become parents. They would love putting together the tree as a family, as well as handmaking some of the decorations. She would find a lot of sentimental value in the baubles they made and would keep them safe every year; reminding them both of their early years as a family. They would cook the dinner together, with Jin most likely taking the lead, and would spend the day seeing to family and friends; finally able to spend some family time together in the evening watching a film or playing with the new toys given to Eun-ju.

Min-seo is most likely to get Jin something personalised, such as a family album or picture frame with photos of them and their daughter, engraved keyrings or a wallet with his name on it along with a special message. She would also buy gifts to him from their daughter. He would definitely have a ‘best dad’ mug lying around the house. Jin would also be most likely to dress as Santa for their daughter while giving her the presents. Min-seo would find it really fun and goofy, but we could imagine baby Eun-ju might be a bit frightened at first, not recognising her dad under the fake beard, and would cry until he lifted it and reassured her.

Jeong-sun (Suga’s wife)

While they would not go overboard, Yoongi and Jeong-sun would make the effort to get in the festive spirit by putting up a tree in the days leading up to Christmas. Neither are particularly artistic or enthusiastic when it comes to decorating, so we could see it looking a bit pathetic and bare; which they would both find hilarious. We think they both would feel that Christmas was more about other people, so they would make the effort to see their family and friends in the morning; going around to those they could to drop off presents.They would also be most thankful if they were invited around to someone else’s for Christmas dinner, such as Min-seo and Jin’s or Nana and Hoseok’s as they wouldn’t have to think about cooking and would appreciate the company for a few hours.

If they weren’t invited anywhere, they would make the dinner together, with Jeong-sun taking on the less arduous tasks of chopping the vegetables and making the stock for gravy. While they would undoubtedly end up making too much food for just the two of them, they would find a lot of unexpected joy in doing something like this together; sipping wine while preparing the food and finding themselves quite giggly and merry by the time it is finished. There might be a small kitchen disaster such as burning the meat or setting a teatowel on fire, but since neither have expectations of having ‘the perfect day’, anything which went wrong would not stress them out. Later in their relationship, it would be more likely that with Jeong-sun as a nurse, she might not be able to have Christmas day off work. In this case, they wouldn’t be against having a less traditional Christmas dinner together in the evening which was easier to make.

While they would buy gifts for each other, neither would go overboard or buy anything too expensive. They are more likely to buy each other something thoughtful and practical, but that they wouldn’t necessarily get themselves. Jeong-sun would leave anything too technical he might need (such as music equipment, headphones etc.) to him, since she wouldn’t know where to start. Instead, she’s likely to get him something for the kitchen he might want but does not have, such as a new rice cooker, or something useful like the thermos travel mug she bought him for his birthday one year. If she was struck on what to get him, a nice, well-reviewed but not overly expensive bottle of single malt scotch would be her go-to gift. She knows he would be grateful and they would like sharing the first glass together in the evening as they curled up on the sofa together, half-watching a Christmas film and chatting about nothing in particular.

Nana (J-Hope’s girlfriend)

As a teacher, Nana would be in the festive mood quite a while before the actual big day, having made cards and ornaments with her class. She would love spending the day with Hoseok, dedicating some time in the morning to phoning or visiting family before preparing the dinner together with her boyfriend. They would be most likely to steer away from the traditional Christmas lunch and instead try out a new recipe. Since they are both toying around with veganism, they would look up the instructions beforehand, enjoying going grocery shopping together in search of the ingredients, and experimenting in the kitchen on the big day. Hoseok would turn into a child again as they exchanged gifts - having hand made each other cards, Christmas ornaments and decorations. Of course, there would also be a lot of decorations made by her pupils, and she would love telling him stories about the kids as they hung each one on their tree. They might also derive from the traditional Christmas tree and decorate a big plant she already had in the apartment. They would also love wreath-making together; having undoubtedly gone to a class at some point in their relationship and making a tradition of doing so again at home together each year. They would view Christmas as a time for loved ones and sharing, so would eagerly invite others over for dinner if they thought it might make the day more special for them.

We think they would make a habit of buying each other a festive-themed flowers as a gift, as Hoseok would love receiving bouquets just as much as Nana, and she would also buy him something practical but unique, such as a vegan-leather satchel, wallet or keyring she bought from a small, local business or seller online. She would also not be against buying him a new shirt or two in bright, bold colours and fun prints, knowing they will always come in useful.

Ara (Jimin’s girlfriend)

Jimin and Ara would put a lot of effort into spending the big day together with their busy schedules and would want everything to be perfect. They would love shopping for decorations and a new tree each year and might have several around their apartment, including a pink, artificial one in the bedroom. They would choose a different theme each year and pick their decorations accordingly. They would also love getting in the mood in the days prior; drinking cocoa, watching Christmas films and hand-making Christmas cards for their friends and family. They would attempt the perfect Christmas dinner together, with them both taking equal responsibility in the preparing and cooking. They would enjoy spending the whole day alone together, with everything very carefully planned and orchestrated, from opening the presents when they wake up, to unwinding in the evening. Because of this, if someone went wrong or did not go according to plan, they could both get quite flustered and upset as they have put so much time, effort and mental energy into the day.

Ara would have a good sense of Jimin’s fashion taste and is likely to pick him a few clothes and accessories as gifts such as a nice designer shirt, a new tie or a warm but fashionable scarf which would go with anything. She would be most likely to also put a lot of effort into wrapping the gifts, selecting the wrapping paper, gift tags and ribbons carefully.

Cassandra (V’s girlfriend)

Taehyung and Cassandra would be most likely to argue over how to spend the big day as they would both have their own Christmas traditions and idea of what makes the perfect day. This would undoubtedly become even more tense once Gabriel is born, as they would need to plan how to give him the best day they could, while also orchestrating the fact they need to agree on a plan. Although they have broken up at the time he is born, Taehyung would want to spend most of the day with them, trying their best to give him a ‘normal family’ Christmas. Cassandra would not object to this, but might need to put her foot down at certain ideas. They are both incredibly stubborn but would reach some kind of agreement or compromise in the end including who should cook and what. Taehyung, regardless, would make himself useful and ensure he brings plenty of food and drink and change and feed Gabriel when Cassandra is busy doing other things.

While Taehyung’s gifts to both Cassandra and Gabriel would always be elaborate and expensive; with a lot of thought and individuality going into what he thinks they would like, we think Cassandra would be less likely to spend a lot of money on Taehyung but still get him something she knows he would love. This would always be the case, even prior to having the baby, as she knows he would always appreciate the thoughtfulness of the gift over the cost. She has the best idea of anyone what his taste in fashion, art and music is, so would be able to buy him something he would really love. Vintage records, antique curios and second-hand but quirky accessories would be among things she would buy him. She would also like to get him something useful but still within his taste, such as a William Morris printed glasses case or artfully designed stationary. Of all the couples, we feel Taeyung and Cassandra are the most comfortable in buying the other something they know they will love.

Young-soon (Jungkook’s girlfriend)

Jungkook and Young-soon would be most likely to enjoy spending Christmas with their families, so would visit both sets of parents during the day and alternate each year who they had Christmas dinner with. They would both help out with the cooking and would prepare a dish or dessert beforehand they could take with them. While they enjoy spending time together as a couple, they would get more out of being part of a bigger family and might even arrange for both sides of the family to meet as one. They would love watching people open their gifts and seeing their reactions. While they would decorate their apartment, they wouldn’t go too extreme as they wouldn’t be spending a lot of time actually at home.

Young-soon would find it quite hard to think of the perfect gift for Jungkook, mostly because his interests are quite vague or something better suited for his band members to buy him. She wouldn’t really know where to start when it came to, for example, getting him a video game he liked as he would game alone. Likewise, music equipment would be best left for Yoongi to gift him as she wouldn’t have the first idea of what would be of good quality. She knows he would love and appreciate her gift either way, so would be more likely to go for something quite traditional that he could wear for date nights or special occasions such as a nice quality tie pin or set of cufflinks. She would ensure to visit a tailors or high-end designer to get the best quality and with the best metals, and would choose something that would last and that he could keep forever.

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

& Our full masterlist of fics and art can be found here

& our most likely to/preferences can be found here

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quicksilversquared · 4 years ago

Text

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 5

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

"Oh my god, you guys, you'll never guess what my mom did for me!" Lila announced as she arrived at the picnic just a little bit on the late side and, other than her phone and a hastily-made Thermos of tea, completely empty-handed. If anyone asked, she would just claim that she had meant to make something, but she had overslept and not been able to start early enough to pull off what she had intended. "It was so sweet of her!"

Heads turned her way, and several of the other girls stepped closer like they were being drawn by a string. Rose was the first to speak up.

"What did she do, Lila?"

"She brought my old phone to a specialist so they could recover some of my old photos off of it- it got destroyed during one of my mission trips to South America and I lost all sorts of data!" Lila practically wilted at the 'memory'. "Thankfully my contacts were backed up in the cloud, but I lost all of my photos! All of those memories, gone! I thought that there was no way to get them back!"

Rose gasped in excitement. "But she got them recovered! That's so great!"

"Some were lost for good- most of them, actually. But I got some back and now they're on my phone and on the cloud, just in case." Lila glanced around. "I don't know if- would anyone like to see them, maybe?"

Rose nodded at once, practically teleporting to Lila's side in her eagerness to see. Alya wasn't far behind, and then Mylène and Nino came behind her. Lila beamed, pulling out her phone and swiping to open up her photos. She had stuck in some landscape photos that she had snagged online to mix it up so that not all of her photos were shots of her and famous people, but obviously the celeb shots were the star of the show.

"Oh, that's Prince Ali!" Rose said happily, half-hanging over Lila's arm to see the phone screen better. "You two definitely look close!"

"Yes, well, we've worked with each other several times," Lila told her. "So of course we're close! I took this picture maybe a year and a half ago? I was at his castle for two weeks while discussing all of the different types of charity work we were doing and ideas for going forward. It was lovely there, really. The beds were so comfortable, and the food was amazing!"

There was a chorus of 'that's so cool!'s and 'you're so lucky!'s. Lila beamed, happy with the attention, and dove into her prepared story, tying in a few of the few of stories that she had told before. More of their classmates gathered around, trying to get a glimpse of her phone. Lila held it up to show the photos off as she went, ever-thoughtful. One story turned into two, then ten, then a dozen as she flipped through the photos. It was a lot- normally she just did one story at a time, peppering them in where they were relevant- but she had been too sick to come up with many stories recently and of course the photos provided a perfect opportunity do a bit of talking.

(Maybe it was a bit too much talking, considering that she was still recovering from her illness and her throat was already sore and she was still feeling a bit faint every so often, but she was on a roll and needed to press her advantage while she had it. These photos were gold, and she needed to milk them for all they were worth.)

"Oh, those shots of you and Ladybug are great!" Alya exclaimed once Lila swiped to the first of the Ladybug pictures. Even though it was just a Ladybug look-alike, Lila had found herself gritting her teeth as she forced herself to cozy up to the sentimonster's side. She hadn't given in to the urge to punch the sentimonster in the face, just as a bit of stress relief, but that had less to do with being nice and more to do with her being worried that she was going to lose control of the sentimonster and have it turn on her. "Those must have been pretty recent, right? Were they on your old phone, too?"

"Ah- no, those were just from yesterday afternoon," Lila fibbed quickly, trying not to cringe. She probably should have held off of putting the Ladybug pictures on her phone- those would always be relevant, she could show them off some other time if she ever hit a lull in attention- but it was too late for that now. Maybe she could get a couple more posters and do another sentimonster session before Hawkmoth took the Miraculous back so that she would have more photo evidence in the future. "She was out on a run and saw me when I was on a walk to try to brainstorm ideas to help the global anti-pollution initiative with Prince Ali. Since we're friends, she decided to drop down and say hi! It was so nice of her."

"She must have been keeping a low profile," Alya commented, leaning in closer. "I didn't get any reports of superhero spottings yesterday, but I know they've been out before without people noticing! Did she help come up with any ideas?"

"No, she wanted to get going again before she got noticed and mobbed," Lila told her. "Which is understandable! She said she would think it over and get back to me if she came up with anything."

Alya nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. I'm sure she'll come up with something, though! Considering how creative she is with Lucky Charms, I bet that she'll think up something cool."

Lila tried not to let her smile get too strained as she faked her enthusiasm. "Yeah! I mean, if it's anything too out there, it might be hard to get people on board, but some out of the box ideas might just be what the world needs!"

"Would you mind sharing those photos on the Ladyblog?" Alya asked eagerly. "I always love adding good pictures of the superheroes, and those are fantastic."

Trying not to smile too obviously, Lila nodded. "Of course! That's fine." Honestly, the more people who saw it, the better. That way, if Ladybug decided to be a brat again and tried to call Lila out, it would be far easier for Lila to claim that they had had a falling out and Ladybug was being an asshole about it and for that to actually be believed. "I'll send the photos to you right away, actually, before I forget."

Alya grinned, whipping out her phone eagerly. "Great! Lemme just- ah, I should probably think of an actual article or something to go along with the photos, huh? Uh- maybe something about how Ladybug isn't just saving the world from evil, but also from pollution? Obviously I'd say that you're the one doing most of the pollution work," she added hastily to Lila. "Or two superheroines- one saving the world from supervillains, the other saving the world from pollution? I like that better! And then I'll just mention the crossover, her helping you come up with ideas and you helping her behind the scenes with akuma attacks sometimes!"

Lila nodded, attaching the photos to an email and sending it off to Alya. "That sounds good! And if you want any more details, just ask!"

"I will, trust me!"

Ten minutes later, Lila's audience started getting restless, clearly done with story time. She wrapped up quickly, claiming that she didn't want to take up everyone's time and monopolize the attention and promising to show off the remainder of the photos at school. Some people stuck around to ask a few questions, but others wandered off. Lila wasn't bothered. After all, the stories would get around eventually.

Eventually, Lila got to step away to peruse the picnic table. She didn't pick anything up since she still wasn't feeling 100% after her earlier dizzy spell, and getting nauseous and barfing would bring her a sort of attention that she didn't want, but it was a nice break from remembering all of her stories and playing her part.

The food spread looked pretty good- though Lila wrinkled her nose at an array of baked goods that had clearly come from Marinette's family's bakery- and she made a note of a few things that she wanted to try later, when she felt better. With one more glance around, Lila stepped away from the table and back towards the rest of her classmates. As she did, she nearly bumped into Marinette. The other girl's eyes narrowed at her but she didn't say anything, opting to simply walk past Lila instead.

Well. That wouldn't do.

"You missed out on seeing my pictures earlier," Lila said, raising her voice just enough that Marinette wouldn't be able to miss it. "Which is a pity, really. There were some really nice ones that my mom recovered off of my old phone. If you wanted, I could still show you a couple."

Marinette snorted. "So you've taken up Photoshop as a hobby, I take it?" she asked dryly. "And I think I'll pass on looking at the photos. If I wanted to see something that wasn't real, I'd go watch an action hero movie. That would at least be enjoyable."

Lila sniffed. "You're just so certain that they're doctored. Do you know how jealous that makes you sound? It's not a very attractive look on you at all."

"Puh-leeze. There was a photo of me and Jagged Stone on the cover of Metal Lord not even a year ago, and I've got actual selfies of me and Clara Nightingale on my phone from when she was doing her music video. I don't need Photoshop." Marinette rolled her eyes, stepping further away from Lila. "Some of us actually have the connections that you pretend to have. If anyone is jealous, it's you."

With that, she turned and left, heading across the park to join Alya and Nino and Adrien. Alya was still hunched over her phone- no doubt hastily getting a rough draft of her article done- but the others were just chatting and relaxing. The fact that Adrien was still clearly on Marinette's side was really annoying, but soon enough he wouldn't be. Not once Lila took some video of the senti-Marinette being a brat. Because it would take video to persuade him, she knew that. Photos wouldn't be enough, not when he was already suspicious of her. She would probably have to wait a week or so to actually show anyone the video, space things out to make them more believable-

Lila's breath caught in her throat as another dizzy spell washed over her. All of a sudden, she wasn't so positive that it was a good idea to come out today. She had just been recovering from a decently long sickness, and then she got up super early and had been pushing herself all day. Yeah, it had been nice to show off her photos right away, but maybe it would have been smarter to wait until Monday. Lila could have ridden out her dizzy spells at home, both the major ones and the smaller ones that had been plaguing her while she showed off her photos.

...maybe she could just sit down and she would be fine?

"Lila! Over here!" Rose called, almost as though she was reading Lila's mind. She waved and patted the bench next to her. "Max was about to start telling us about the changes he made to his game!"

Lila nearly groaned at the thought. Listening to Max meant listening to stats and graphics and coding nonsense that she really couldn't care less about. She avoided it when she could. But it also meant that she wouldn't have to talk, and if she tuned out and missed something and got asked about it, she could just claim that she had gotten lost on all of the technical details.

So really, it was practically perfect.

"What kinds of changes?" Lila asked, walking over and sitting on the fee bit of bench. "New villains?"

Max nodded, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. "That is some of it, yes. Having an ever-expanding cast of characters keeps it interesting and a challenge for those who have already played a lot and know how to defeat their opponents. There were some complaints that there were then too many rounds between the start and the boss villain, so I now have an option for people to select the number of akumas that they want to battle and which akumas they get is randomized. I also have added difficulty levels, for those wanting to deviate from the standard game. After examining the akuma stats, I have identified some that are more or less challenging than average and so the non-normal difficulty selections have a more limited pool of opponents to choose from. I also added Mayura to the game. I considered putting in Pavona, too, but..."

"She could be the boss villain for easy mode," Rose suggested. "Since she's not as good of a fighter as Hawkmoth!"

Max considered that, nodding absently. "Yes, I could see that. I have different coding for different fight levels already, so I could use the one I developed for the lowest akumas."

"The lowest akumas?" Lila asked, incredulous. "She- surely she's better than the lowest akumas, right? When she was out, she wasn't exactly just getting tossed to the side."

There was a long pause. Lila blinked, looking around.

Surely everyone could admit that Pavona wasn't completely useless on the battlefield, right? They had eyes, even if they were ridiculously biased towards the superheroes. There had been times when Pavona had been more than holding her own.

(Well. Times when she hadn't been failing spectacularly, at least, and mostly because the heroes were outnumbered, but she was choosing to ignore that.)

"I mean, I guess she's a better fighter than that giant baby," Alix offered after a long moment. "Not that that's hard, exactly. But as far as game context goes, it doesn't really make sense for the final boss to be as easy or easier than the akumas that came before it."

Max nodded, jotting that down. "That's a good point! I might make her a slight bit more of a threat than she actually is in real life, just for the game's sake. Though she does have the sentimonster thing going for her- maybe I can keep her fight level the same, but just have a couple different sentimonsters that she'll get paired with. That'll be the bit making the boss battle harder."

"That was a good point about how Pavona shouldn't be easier than the akumas in the game, Lila!" Rose chirped, beaming at her. "That'll definitely help improve the game!"

"Yeah, no problem," Lila managed, hoping that she didn't sound like she was talking through gritted teeth. She steadied herself against the table as her vision blurred out again for a moment, her mind going dizzy with it. "I'm always happy to help!"

"I think the problem that I'm facing then is coding so that Pavona and the sentimonster work together," Max said, tapping his pencil against the spine of his notebook. "And the same for the challenge mode, I think. It would have Hawkmoth and Mayura as the final boss, and they would work together. For that, some of the later levels could have randomized akuma-sentimonster pairings!"

"Ooh, good idea!"

"Nice!"

Lila tuned out as the conversation wandered off into more details of the game, improvements that could be made to the akuma powers to make them more flexible and not so fixed. Max eventually wandered off into a discussion- or a monologue, really, even while checked out Lila couldn't help but note that no one else was contributing much anything to the discussion- about coding specifics, and Lila tried not to sigh.

Boring. Boring, boring, boring.

Even after sitting and relaxing for nearly half an hour, Lila still had absolutely no appetite. In fact, the mere thought of eating much anything was making her feel a bit ill, which was a bit concerning.

And yet she found herself staring down at a full plate of food in her lap.

To her own credit, she had tried to get out of eating anything, claiming that she had woken up late and eaten breakfast late and therefore didn't have an appetite, and besides her mom hadn't remembered to buy the things she needed to make something to bring and she would feel bad about taking food when she hadn't brought any. But her classmates had insisted that it was fine, that no one blamed her for not being able to bring anything, and that really, couldn't she eat just a little? So Lila had been pretty much forced to relent and load up her plate.

Maybe she could have let on that she had a bit of lingering nausea from her illness, but she had (for once) not wanted any more attention on her. She had been completely in charge of the narrative earlier, keeping the focus and gossip on what she wanted her classmates to pay attention to, and having the talk about her turn from her celebrity connections to her mysterious illness would be not exactly ideal. An illness could push the focus on her proof to the backs of their minds, easily forgotten about given some time, and she was not about to let a little cold do that.

Lila was made of stronger stuff than that, she knew she was. After all, she was a supervillain. Things weren't going to be easy.

But it was still frustrating that the challenge was coming from something as everyday as a stupid cold.

(She should have just left it at I ate breakfast late and so I'm not very hungry and then maybe she could have gotten away with just taking a little fruit and nothing else. The comment about not having brought anything, in retrospect, made the breakfast thing sound like a flimsy excuse for not eating.)

Hopefully she would feel better again soon. It was just so stupid that she had been feeling so great, and then all of a sudden, she was feeling worse than she had before. Sure, she had been able to milk her cold for all it was worth as far as homework went, but much longer and the teachers wouldn't turn a blind eye to that anymore. And sure, she had gotten out of actually doing anything in gym while she was sick, but she could do that just as easily with a claim that her arthritis was acting up or that she had rolled her ankle the previous day.

(There was also the issue of what she could possibly do if someone brought concerns to their teachers and they insisted on calling Lila's mom. She couldn't let that happen, or else all of her hard work would be for nothing.

Maybe she could spread the lie that her mom was already on top of it and taking her in to the doctor's office for a checkup. If the teachers knew that Mrs. Rossi was already aware of Lila's health problem, then perhaps they would be less inclined to reach out as well.)

"Aren't you hungry, Lila?" Rose asked anxiously, and Lila startled out of her thoughts. She had been staring at her plate without eating anything for too long, clearly. "You've just been pushing your food around and not eating anything."

"Ah, well, I did have a late breakfast," Lila managed, doing her best to make her excuses sound confident, even as another wave of dizziness passed over her. Was it just her imagination, or were they getting more frequent? "I must have eaten more than I thought then, so I'm not very hungry yet. I- maybe I'll just set my plate away to eat later. I just couldn't resist taking some food, it all looked so good."

"Oh, okay," Rose agreed after a moment's pause. "It's too bad we don't have a heating lamp or something to keep the food warm and fresh for you! Some of it won't be as good cold."

Lila flashed her a smile. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm sure it will still be good! And if not- well, the next time we have a picnic, I'll be sure to wake up earlier or not eat as much breakfast."

"We'll have to do this again soon, then!"

Lila smiled and nodded. "That sounds fun! It'll be a good way to keep up with everyone over the summer- well, at least if I'm still in the country and not traveling. I don't know what my mom's plans are yet."

Everyone nodded, letting out little murmurs of understanding.

"Hopefully you'll get to go some cool places!" Mylène piped up. "I mean, I hope you'll be around for part of the summer so that you can go on all of the group activities like picnics and pool trips, but I know how important it is for you to get to travel and meet people who can help out with your charities and environmental work and everything!"

Lila forced another smile in the direction where- well, she could mostly see Mylène between the spots that had momentarily taken over her vision. She blinked, and her vision cleared. "Yeah, it would be nice to get to hang out and be a normal kid for a bit, but I also want to see some of my friends from other places in person again! I've been keeping in touch by email and video call, of course, but it's just not the same."

"The downside to traveling," Mylène agreed. "I've made friends while traveling before- average people, not princes and whatnot- but I never end up staying in touch with them for that long once I leave. Our emails just end up tapering off."

Several of the others nodded in agreement. Lila almost did, too- after all, she always let communications with her former classmates taper off and end after a few months after she had to move or switch schools- before she caught herself.

Right. No talking about her real life experiences, or else people would start picking up on the inconsistencies and the ways that Lila's real life didn't line up with the other stories that she had told.

The conversation slowly turned to the kinds of friendships other people had made while on vacation with their families and how long they kept communicating once they had left, and Lila tuned it out in favor of trying to force down a few bites of food. There were a couple things that weren't overly sweet or spicy that didn't make her stomach want to completely turn itself inside out, so Lila nibbled on them while she pretended to listen to her classmates blather on about completely non-impressive people who they had met.

"Lila, if you aren't hungry yet, you don't have to eat," Rose said suddenly, cutting herself off mid-sentence. She glanced over at the picnic table, then perked up. "Hey, the container I brought my salad in is empty! You could just put your food in that and bring it home to eat later if you wanted!"

"That's so kind of you, Rose!" Lila managed. Ugh, forcing herself to eat anything had clearly been a bad choice. She had thought that she would be able to handle a few bites, but she was feeling more nauseous than ever. She didn't want to let that on, though. She wouldn't. She couldn't distract from her own stories and photos by being ill. "That sounds like a great idea. I don't want the food I took to have to go to waste. I-" she cut herself off as her stomach rolled again.

Maybe talking right now wasn't the best idea.

"Let's go get it, then!" Rose chirped, popping up out of her seat. "And you can grab anything you want to eat later from the table, too, while we're doing that. I know no one's going to mind if you take stuff to go!"

Lila pushed herself to her feet to follow Rose, doing her best to act as though everything was normal as she swung her legs over the bench and started walking. Her vision had almost completely fuzzed out as soon as she got up, but she couldn't let that stop her. It would clear up soon enough, after all. It always had before.

She took one step, then another, then a third, forcing them even and casual. On the fourth, Lila felt herself wobble, suddenly both dizzy and weak.

And on the fifth step, everything went black.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #The Wavering Peahen

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cindersandroses · 4 years ago

Text

Digital Get Down, Chapter 1

AUTHORS: cindersandroses ( losille2000 and cinderella1181)

CHAPTERS: 1/?

PAIRING: Actor!Henry Cavill/ Plus-Sized OFC

GENRE: Romance/Fluff/HUMOR

FIC SUMMARY: When SuperHank met OrcPrincessPeach on the World of Warcraft message boards, it was love at first raid. Now, almost a year later, they’re ready to take the next step and meet in person. Half a world away from each other, both decide to meet in Atlanta for DragonCon, since she was already going to be there for her work as a game designer at Blizzard... never mind that she is a devout nerd. They both have to face the fact that reality is very different from a digital world.

RATING: Mature

AUTHORS NOTES: This idea happened while we were floating around our pool a few days ago. I don’t foresee this being very long, but as always, if you want more, we will write more.

Also on AO3!

Chapter 1

SuperHank: Hey girlie girl, I did it! I got the pass for DragonCon. After almost 10 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days, I’m officially coming to meet you!

OrcPrincessPeach: Yay! Are you sure you can afford it... and the airfare?

SuperHank: Dollface, for you, I would move the oceans and walk to you. I can’t wait. August seems so far away.

OrcPrincessPeach: Be still my beating heart, you sappy romantic. I can’t wait to see you.

SuperHank: Same here. I gotta go raid. I will talk to you later. I’ll text you before I go to sleep. Have a good day at work.

OrcPrincessPeach: I will see you later tonight!

Opal closed the laptop and smiled to herself, trying desperately to keep a squeal of delight from escaping her lips. Nothing ever made her feel as amazing as talking to Hank did, even when it meant little sleep and getting up well before the sun to do it. But Amber, her roommate, would be the first person to yell at her for making too much noise in the morning… especially since it involved Hank, whom Amber did not particularly like for some reason.

Nevermind that he and Amber had never actually talked to each other. And, in fact, Opal had only ever talked to the man herself, too. Well, “talking,” in so much that they called each other, texted each other, and chatted on the World of Warcraft message boards about everything and nothing at all. There was the one time, though, when she had been “talking” with Hank, that she may have gotten too loud during a little early morning (for her, anyway) phone sex.

So maybe Amber did have a point.

Opal’s cheeks heated at the thought, replaying the memory in her head as she pulled on her most adorable red peep-toe pumps. All the boys in her programming pod at Blizzard loved it when she wore them; they always made her feel like she could take on the world. Because, seriously, who was going to mess with a woman wearing sky-high red heels during the day? It was amazing what she could convince her fellow game designer nerds to do when she wore these heels with this outfit.

She smoothed her otherwise fairly normal navy blue sheath dress over her slightly rounded belly and wide hips. These clothes were her armor against the world, much like how her orc character dressed in the game. Opal and her orc both needed the image that they could take on the male-dominated World of game design, when in reality, she could very much be a shrinking violet. Especially when it came to her body.

Hence why she had only shared very, erm, specific photos of her body with Hank, and him with her… in the best light, angle and pose. He had an amazing body, and she, well, she didn’t have an amazing body. It wasn’t terrible, per se. It did the things she needed it to do, but she certainly could have spent more time at the office standing desks or in the employee gym. But her red pumps wouldn’t allow her to do either.

So she just had to hope--and pray--that when he saw her in the harsh light of day that he didn’t run away screaming. Because there certainly had been a few online boyfriends before this who had done just that.

Opal left her room and carefully made her way downstairs to get her bag together for work. Tycho, her rather large ragdoll cat, was laying on the back of the couch, half on the black bag and rubbing his chin on the rigid canvas handle. Clearly, the bag was his now, just like everything else in the house.

“Hey, you better move it, buddy. I gotta get to work so you get good gushy food.” She pointed at him. “Be gone when I get back in here.”

Tycho rumbled a low meow in response and didn’t move.

“Freeloader,” she mused.

She headed into the kitchen with a huge smile returning to her face and butterflies making her slightly queasy. After almost a year, she was finally… finally… going to meet the boy she’d been dating online. Most people would take that as a sign that this was all it would ever be--online and still fairly impersonal. To be fair, though, Hank had planned to come and see her once before, but work had not let him. And it wasn’t like they were on the same continent, normally. They were halfway around the world from each other. But this time, he swore up and down that this was going to be it. They were going to cohabitate in the same hotel suite for a long weekend, and make good on all the very dirty promises they had made each other in the ten months they’d been “together.” Of course, she was well aware that he still may cancel, but for now, she was going to live in her dreamworld.

Amber was already in the kitchen as Opal made it into the room. Her roommate sat bleary-eyed at the kitchen table and stared at her cell phone screen.

“You already made coffee?” Opal asked.

The brunette nodded and motioned her head towards the almost full pot. “Yeah, cause I didn’t have to get up at a stupid time in the morning to talk to my internet boyfriend.”

Opal rolled her eyes. “Amber, it’s not that bad.”

“Really, Opie? What time did you get out of bed this morning?” she asked, her eyebrow peaked.

Opal sighed. “Six.” Amber shook her head. “It’s not normal. How long have you been ‘dating’ this dude?” she asked, emphasizing her point with air quotes and all.

“Almost a year, but he and I are finally meeting. We’re going to meet in Atlanta for DragonCon. It’s a halfway point between us, we figured it would be neutral territory,” Opal explained.

“Is Con really ‘neutral’? You’d live at a con if you could.”

Opal ignored her comment. As far as she was concerned, it was neutral… and certainly big enough to get lost in the crowd if things didn’t go well. She certainly didn’t want to bring him around her house if Amber planned to be there to scare him away.

Opal continued with a light, dreamy sigh. “It’s going to be super exciting. I’m ready to meet Hank. He is a fantastic guy; he is kind, funny, loves his family.”

“Sounds like you’re describing a labrador. Next thing, you’re going to tell me he is loyal and in love with you,” Amber replied, shaking her head. “You can’t be in love with someone you have never met in person.”

Maybe Amber was right, after all. How much could someone truly know a person from what they say alone? It’s merely a facet of who they are. Actions were also huge, and he had not yet proven anything to Opal in that category.

But still, Opal was sure Hank was different. She’d had a lot of online boyfriends throughout her life--her life revolved around the computer, so it was only natural. And comparing all the other examples with her current love interest, this just felt different. Like… it might actually be real.

“You can love their heart, and I adore him. He is pretty great. I’m just hoping he’s the one.” Opal grinned. “We would have an amazing story to tell our kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids.”

Amber pressed her lips together into a terse line and returned to whatever was on her phone. “Well, when this all bursts in your face, Opie, you just come home to me and remember that I love you no matter what.”

Opal smiled. “I know, Amber. You’ll pick up all the pieces. But I don’t think that’s going to happen with him. I don’t know. He’s different.”

“Does he know?” Amber asked, the cup of coffee close to her mouth.

“Um... know what?” Opal asked.

“That you’re not some skinny bimbo?” Amber asked, motioning in her direction. Amber’s eyes scanned her body slowly, critically. “All the people on the internet have this idealized image in their head that the person they’re talking to is Giselle Bundchen, not Ashely Graham or Tess Holliday.”

“They are both gorgeous and many men are in love with them,” Opal defended. “And they’re both married.”

Amber shrugged. “I’m just preparing you for it, if it happens. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

This conversation, though, was hurting her. Hank wasn’t the direct cause of it, just a reason for Amber to start this. She knew Amber had her best interests at heart--no friend wants their friend to get hurt--but the way she achieved her goals, and the words she used, were not nice.

Opal sighed. “Look, he knows I’m fat. He knows I have curves and I’m not a size two. He and I have had several conversations about the fact I’m not some little skinny thing. He said he adores my heart, and he doesn’t care what kind of body it comes in.”

He also said he preferred thick women because he didn’t feel like he was going to break them when things got… athletic. But Amber didn’t need to hear that, either.

“My god, if that isn’t a line,” Amber scoffed.

Opal shrugged. “Amber, stop! Your thinly veiled attempt to fat shame me isn’t going to work. I’m going to go to Atlanta, I’m going to meet him, and I may even sleep with him.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “You won’t have sex with him. You’re a 32-year-old virgin.”

Opal shrugged. “You know, stranger things have happened.” She twisted the top on her thermos. “I’m going to be late for work, I’ll see you later.”

She walked back into the living room, removed the cat from his perch, picked up her bag and headed out the door to work. As she walked the block to the bus stop, she pulled her phone out and put on the playlist Hank had built her. She smiled as the songs began to play, each one having a special meaning to both of them. He was always adding new songs with little notes about why he added them.

These little love notes never failed to make her happy again. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if they ever stopped.

She knew what Amber said shouldn’t bother her as much as it did, but she was self-conscious. Her body had always been something that set her apart and had made her shy when it came to men. Of all the potential dates she’d had with online boyfriends, she had only been on three real dates in her adult life. All of them turned tail and ran once she said she was a virgin. So for those very few that were able to get past the body issue, those three considered her lack of experience to be insurmountable.

Hank didn’t make her feel like that. He didn’t seem to care, or if he did, it wasn’t a deal-breaker. If her lack of experience didn’t do it, there was a very real possibility that her other image issues would be the end of it.

When she arrived at the bus stop and sat down, Opal made the decision to push Amber’s nagging voice out of her head. She wasn’t going to let Amber break her confidence. Hank adored her, for who she was, and that was all that mattered.

She turned her music all the way up to block out the self-doubt and scrolled through her playlist, looking for her favorites. At the bottom of the list, added only a few minutes before, was a new song. Opal giggled and clicked on the song, closing her eyes to listen to the electronic 80s synth and Richard Marx croon, “Right Here Waiting.”

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