#i only have two possible job options and both of them trap me in my parents’ house and my town when i already have a slim to none chance of

[corn-fanfiction]

ARMS TONITE (mark hoffman x reader)

18+ ONLY

CW: dubcon but the most dubious it can possibly be, torture, violence, mark hoffman being his own tw, p in v sex, oral (m + f receiving)



You are fucked. Royally.

You've made some questionable choices in you life. Never did you think doing the right thing would be one of them.

But there you are, hand wrapped firmly around a tape all too familiar looking, and Detective Mark Hoffman standing in the doorway of his office, frozen, staring you down.

You're caught in fight, flight, or freeze. Not that you stand much of a chance with the first two. Especially not when he enters the office, closes the door, locks the door, shuts the blinds, and sighs.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

He steps to you and you shuffle back. "Touch me and I scream."

He chuckles darkly. "For who? It's the middle of the night. No one's here."

You squint at him. "How did you know I was here?"

"I went by your house. You see, I figured you were on to something. I just didn't realize you were this close."

Another step. You grab the letter opener from his desk and point it at him.

"Woah, easy." He raises his hands even though you both know you can't possibly beat him with just this.

You bounce on the balls of your feet before bolting towards the door. Of course, he gets you by the waist and slams you against his desk. You scream out.

"That's right, let it all out."

And you do. He twists your left hand so you involuntarily drop the letter opener. Then he unwraps your fingers to drop the tape. Amidst your yelling he grabs you by your hair and hoists you up against his chest.

"Here's what we're going to do. We're gonna go out to my car and go for a drive. If we happen to see anyone on the way, you're gonna act like it's a normal fucking evening. Anything more and I will kill them. Got it?" You're too scared to respond. He jerks his hold on your hair, pulling against your scalp. "Answer me."

"Y-yes!"

"Good.”

He walks you out of his office and out of the station. In the parking lot, on the way to his car, you pass an officer coming in late. Mark puts a hand on your lower back as a warning.

“Evening, Michaels!”

“Hey Hoffman. What are you two doing here so late?”

“Ah, fixing some paperwork. You?”

“Would you believe me if I said the same thing?”

The two men laugh and you make it to the car without incident. Hoffman opens the passenger door for you and leans in close before you get in.

“Good job. Keep it up and you might just survive.”

But you won’t. You know there’s no chance of you getting out of this.

He starts to drive. You leave the metro of the city and drive through back neighborhoods lined with trees.

“Are you gonna kill me?” You murmur with your head to the cool glass of the window next to you.

“Don’t ask me that.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Sit there.”

So you do. You pick at your nails. Tug the hem of your skirt.

“How long have you known?”

Oh, so you can talk as long as he starts the conversation.

“Um… fifteen minutes?”

“Fine, how long have you suspected?”

“A week.”

“And you just now decided to act on it?”

“Well…I had to decide if I was more afraid of you finding out or you getting away with it.”

“And now we come to the third option.”

What’s the third option, you beg yourself to ask. But you know.

You close your eyes. Deniability. Maybe, if you tell him you don’t know where you are, he’ll let you live. A shot in the dark is still a shot.

“Open your eyes.”

You think, if you disobey, he’ll drop it. Instead, he takes your wrist into a bruising grip.

“Open your eyes or I will pull over right here and shoot you in the fucking head.”

You force your eyes open and watch the trees blur past you.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just get it over with.”

“Jesus. Almost sounds like you wanna die.”

You know to choose your words carefully. One slip of the tongue and you’d end up in a trap anyway for not appreciating life.

“I just wanna die with some dignity if I have to.”

“You’re not really in a position to bargain, are you?”

No. You suppose you’re not.

Darkened streets. Busted lamp posts. You pull up to a warehouse and Mark parks the car. You suddenly feel a grip of cold on the back of your neck and lead in your stomach. They always talk about secondary locations in your criminology classes. With each step you take you are closer to death.

Not that he gives you much of a choice. He senses your trepidation and practically pulls you from the car.

"Don't go dumb on me now, sweetheart."

He says the petname like he's spitting out poison.

"Forgive me for trying to-"

The sting of the slap comes before you realize it even happens. You stumble but his hold on you keeps you from falling. You hold your cheek and glare at him.

"What the fuck?"

He sneers. "Oh now you grow a backbone?"

All you can do is stare at him. Only slightly disheveled from the outburst and fuming. You think back to when you first met him. You were hired onto the force as an intern for your degree. You were bumbling with caseloads. Bumped into him by the water cooler.

"Woah, easy there, sweetheart," he had said. You had looked up into his warm eyes and stared at his full lips like a lovestruck teenager. You were sure he'd noticed. If not then, then each incident afterwards. He had to have known.

Where is that man now?

He pulls you into the warehouse. It's everything movies prepared you for. But as he pulls you even further inside, you begin to notice certain things. Like...bloodstains. Like implements. Hooks. And that's when you realize. He hasn't just brought you to a secondary location. He's brought you to-

"No," you mutter upon realizing and pull against him. "No no no no no."

"Yes," he grumbles. "Finally, you get some sense."

He pulls you to a chair and pushes you to sit. You're in front of a table littered with sketches, loose screws, tools- all the things you don't want to see in front of you. Especially not with Mark walking behind it pensively. You wait as long as you can but his sudden lack of eye contact and him pushing through papers is sending you over the edge.

"Mark-"

"Shut up."

"Mark, what are you doing?"

"Thinking."

Okay, let him think. You look around your room and gather your bearings. Potential escapes. Things close enough to grab.

"You're thinking too."

"Of course I am."

Finally he comes around the table and stands behind you. Hairs stand on end.

"Are you thinking about," hands and thick fingers clamp onto your shoulders. "How you're gonna get out of this? Hm?"

You shudder. You want him off of you.

But also-

No!

"I don't know how I would."

Yes. Play helpless.

"Come on. You can do better than that."

His face grows closer to your head.

"What is it you want, Hoffman?"

You don't expect that much vitriol to come out of you. A hand moves across your back and he faces you again.

"I think," he braces his hands on the arms of the chair. "I want you to beg."

You stare at him dumbfounded. "What?"

"I want you. To beg. For it."

"Beg for what?"

"Your life. Come on, get it together."

He taps your cheek. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as his intentions come clearer into focus.

"I'm not stupid and neither are you. I've seen the way you've looked at me from the first day you started at the precinct. Always the first to step in and help out. Early mornings, late nights. Don’t act like you’ve never thought about it. I have."

You can't stop the words before they escape your mouth. "You have?"

Mark chuckles. He knows he's won.

"That's what I thought. Now, I think you know what comes next."

He straightens and removes his suit jacket.

"Say it."

You swallow and look up at him.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please don't kill me."

He circles back to the table and grabs a knife.

"That's not very convincing."

The knife inspires you.

"Please don't kill me, Mark. Mark-"

"Saying my name so I connect to you. Smart. Unfortunately for you, I can read you like a book. And I know you hate me."

When you fail to respond, he pulls you from the chair and holds you still.

"Try it again."

The knife tip caresses the back of your neck and you shiver.

"Mark, please-"

You gasp when you feel a sharp tug at your skin and you realize he's nicked you. But then, almost as soon as it happens, you feel a flat, hot tongue on the wound. And oh- you moan.

"That's what I thought. You get it now, don't you?"

"Even if I... Did. What's to stop you from just killing me afterwards?"

He faces you. "Wouldn't that just be wasteful?"

He seizes your lips in an angry, passionate kiss with tongue and teeth and you're too surprised to fight.

When he pulls away he pulls his suspenders off.

"Beg."

Your lips are puffed, the smell of his cologne and sweat still lingering on you. What does it take to survive?

"Mark, please don't kill me."

"Again."

He's unbuttoning his shirt.

"Please...Mark..."

He removes his button up to leave him in only a white t-shirt. But you notice there's a blood stain on the hem.

"Eyes up here."

You follow his orders. He grabs you by the chin.

"You fond of this shirt?"

You are, in fact, fond of this shirt. But you can't force the words out. Taking your silence as an answer, Mark takes the knife and cuts your shirt clean in half.

"You're awfully silent."

"Please."

He forces the shirt down your arms and tosses it onto the floor.

"I'm going to tell you how this is gonna work. I'm gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, then I'm gonna fuck your tight cunt, and then we'll see about letting you live, hm?"

Fuck. You don't have much of a choice, do you?

You hesitate a hair too long. He forces you to your knees and you gasp against the pain. He begins undoing his belt.

"You know, I'd always imagined our first time would be so enthusiastic. But I suppose this works, too."

He pulls himself out of his pants, spits on his palm and tugs on his length.

"Whaddya say, sweetheart? We got a deal?"

Like you have any say at all.

You nod. A deal with the devil is better than no deal at all.

"Excellent. Now, let's put that mouth to work."

Okay. You take a breath. You've seen porn, read smut. You understand the basics of the task at hand.

You go in to start but hesitate. Is there really any good way to go about this?

"Aw shit. Don't tell me you've never given head before?"

For whatever reason you find yourself blushing.

"No."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Well, prefect time to learn. Let me help you."

You slowly open your mouth. He grabs his dick and slides it against you tongue. He throws his head back and groans.

"Oh fuck. Okay, close your mouth. Don't even think about using teeth."

You follow his instructions. You think back to what you've seen in incognito tab on your phone. You hollow our your cheeks and move your head. He seems to like that.

"Use your hands."

You grab the base, maybe a little more suddenly than you should, and it's surprisingly helpful. Your work in tandem with your mouth and soon he's bucking into you.

"When I cum, you're gonna swallow. Understand? If you spit even a little I'm gonna start breaking fingers."

You nod and hum in agreement and the vibrations bring him closer to the edge. Suddenly a hand finds the back of your head and presses you firmly against his pelvis. Your hands fly away from his cock to brace against his thighs but his grip is firmer. He's pressing against the back of your throat.

"Don't fight me. You're almost done."

You know it's not true. Perhaps this few minutes of torture, but you know he has much more in store.

You fight against choking and vomiting when he cums with a series of grunts and moans and his semen slides down the back of your throat. The good news is, you don't have to taste it. Very much.

Once he's satisfied with your work he pulls out. You fall to your hands and knees and cough, your throat ragged and your lungs screaming for air. You stomach is begging you to puke but you can't even imagine what'll happen if you do so you deal with it.

"Damn. What a view," Mark muses from above you.

"Fuck you, you pig," you rasp over your shoulder. "You piece of shit. You fucking coward."

"Now you're asking for it." He hoists you up by your waist and tosses you onto the table. Some random sharp tool digs into your shoulder and you scream in pain.

He grabs your hair to the scalp and kisses you again, effectively pinning your head to the table. When he breaks away, he retrieves his handcuffs and places them around your wrists, tightening them to the point that you swear it breaks skin. He connects them somehow to the table so your arms are above your head.

"I think we can do without this," he says, finding the knife again and slicing it through your bra. You turn your head in shame as if this is worse than him forcing you to suck him off. "Don't be shy."

Large hands wrap around your breasts and you squirm- both to try to escape, and to relieve the feeling emerging between your legs. This is normal, you think. Your body isn't betraying you. It's trying to help you.

It gives you an idea. When the deed begins, maybe you can try to imagine it like your late night fantasies. That this is the two of you fucking on the third date, gentle and passionate like you'd dreamed.

He removes your pants and your brain locks when he drives two fingers in you. You wince at the pain, but also bite back a moan at the filling sensation.

"That's just sad, isn't it? You hate me so much and yet you want me so badly."

He withdraws his fingers and wipes the fluid on your lower stomach.

"Alright. I don't want you to hold back. Every moment you feel like screaming, I want you to scream. Got it?"

Your eyes blaze into his. "I hate you."

He smirks. "I know."

He kisses you as he sinks into you and you gasp, then grunt in discomfort. He's bigger than what you're used to. And while your slight arousal is helping, he's certainly not holding back. He bottoms out immediately and sets an almost brutal pace.

The table creaks beneath you and part of you wonders if it'll give out. You hope it does.

"How many times have you thought about this, hm?" he asks, watching your breasts bounce and your face contort in pain. "How many times have you finger fucked yourself to the thought of me?"

Too many, you think. Too many to deny how much you've wanted him. Just not like this.

You escape to what you'd imagined. His bed or yours, slow removal of clothes, him eating you out with those pouting lips, preparing you for intimate sex where you both cum. It helps.

A rough thumb on your clit pulls you right out of it and a jolt of pleasure runs up your spine. Your eyes flash open and a sharp moan escapes you.

"Where do you think you're going, huh? I want you right here."

"Fuck..." you groan. "Stop, stop!"

"What, you don't wanna cum?"

You shake your head fervently as he continues his ministrations.

"I want you- ah! I want you to get it over with!"

"Say it. Beg. 'Mark, I want you to cum in me'."

God, you can't take it. But you also know that'll make it pass quicker.

"Mark..." you can't get the words out. He bites down on a nipple and you scream.

"Beg me for it. I can go like this all night."

"Mark, please cum in me. Please."

His pace quickens and you know he's close. You can even feel yourself growing closer to that peak. Get it over with get it over with get it over with.

"Come on. One more time, sweetheart. Tell me how much you want it."

"Mark, please-"

He releases with a long, almost strained moan. You do your best to block the sensation of him filling you.

He pulls out and you sigh, pressing your face into your arm. Finally. This one torture is over.

Mark notices your relief as you're too tired to conceal it.

"Oh, you think you're done?"

Your body goes cold and he pulls you to the end of the table. Your arms scream in protest against your restraints.

"Mark, please don't-!"

But his mouth is on your swollen cunt before you can even beg him not to. And it doesn't take much for you to unravel completely. He even presses into your clit for good measure.

He trails kisses up your body and nips at your neck before settling next to your ear.

"You're not dying tonight, sweetheart. I think I have use for you yet."

[effervescentdragon]

for @stormxpadme ❤️ youre the best, im keeping that ask with all the options for the future bcs theyre all 👀

"It could be Asfaloth," Charles chimed in absently, and Sebastian clucked his tongue, equally annoyed and endeared.

"Asfaloth is the horse in Lord of the Rings, Charles, for God's sake," he said with much less patience than he usually had. He still couldn't quite supress the smile on his face.

Charles' cheeks were red when he looked up from the huge tome he was perusing. "Ah, yes, I - I took your advice about my bedside reading. I meant to say Ashmedai."

Sebastian froze. "Asmodeus," he breathed out. "Oh, oh, that's - that's brilliant, Charles! It - it fits the MO to a T, attacking sex workers, and wasn't the latest victim a Madame? Fuck, that..." he trailed off, shuffling through his papers for the crime report.

"I didn't think priests could swear," Charles remarked as he started digging through the pile of papers in an effort to help Sebastian.

"Former priest," Sebastian said, and his chest only hurt a little. "I was dismissed from my clerical state, Charles."

Charles said nothing, only pulled a paper out and held it out to Sebastian after skimming it. "Here's the latest report. It says that there was reasonable suspicion that the dismembered woman was the head of a high-class prostitution ring. What do we do now?" he asked.

Sebastian read through the report quickly, thinking about the implications of their hypothesis. He'd confronted Asmodeus once, though not directly, and he knew how to bind him enough so he'd be compelled to answer their questions. But if this was true, if it was really Asmodeus in their realm, then that meant that the lines between the worlds weren't holding the way they were supoosed to. If a Prince of Hell was able to cross them... Sebastian didn't dare think of the implications. They were too horrenduous for him to ponder now, when he had a job to do.

He turned to Charles, who was observing him with those unnaturally green eyes of his.

"Now, we set a trap," Sebastian said, and tried not to let Charles' fully trusting gaze affect him. "Now, we trap the demon, and see what we are dealing with."

-

"Charles, run! Run, now -" he screamed, but it was too late.

The impact hurled him across the room. Before he could even try to catch his breath, the demon pinned him to the wall, making it impossible for him to move even an inch.

"Father Sebastian Vettel," it spoke in a voice made of fumes. "Be it possible that we meet again." It laughed, and Sebastian felt like his ears would start bleeding any moment. "I see your soul still shines bright, as torn as it is by your - oooh." It cackled, then turned to where Charles sat on the floor against the wall, eyes wide and terrified, unable to move.

"Oh, and he is as torn by his lust as you are," the demon said gleefully, and Charles' terrified gaze fell on Sebastian. "What a pair of fools you two are, both so deep in your pathetic human self-loathing to see how much you burn for each other."

Sebastian didn't dare close his eyes, no matter how much he wanted to. It was imperative for him to get Charles out of here somehow.

"Take me," he said through a throat that felt like it was filled with glass shards. "Take me, you know me, you know who I am, and leave him be. He is innocent."

The demon laughed. It was a horrible sound.

"Oh, Father," it said as it moved slowly towards where Charles was. "I am Asmodeus, Prince of Hell. My domain is Lechery and Lust, and you are only human. There is nothing you can do to stop me from taking this piteous realm for my own."

Sebastian knew this was true as the demon spoke it. His binding had failed, he wasn't strong enough, and now the world will pay the price. He only hoped the demon would grant Charles a swift death, though he doubted it. Asmodeus must have felt Sebastian's feelings for Charles and it would find it amusing to prolong Charles' suffering as a sure way to torture Sebastian. Sebastian's love would bring Charles doom anyway, just like Sebastian always knew it would.

He only wished he'd been smarter, and more selfish, and took one of the million chances he'd had to show to Charles how much he meant to Sebastian, if their end was to be a painful death anyway.

Charles coughed. Both Sebastian and Asmodeus turned to him. Charles still looked terrified, but there was something weird about the way he was avoiding looking at them.

"You're wrong," Charles rasped. He must have inhaled as much smoke as Sebastian did. "You see, although Seb may not be strong enough to resist you, I am."

Sebastian gasped when Charles finally lifted his head and looked straight at Sebastian. His emerald eyes were full of regret and sorrow, but more importantly, they glowed.

"Forgive me," he said, and as he did he rose from the floor like nothing was holding him down. Sebastian didn't want to think about it, because he couldn't move, and to resist the power of a Prince of Hell, Charles would have to be... not human.

"Close your eyes, Seb," Charles said, and if it were an order Sebastian would have refused. It wasn't; it was a plea, and so Sebastian obeyed.

The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Charles pull a flaming sword from thin air. The first thing he heard after closing his eyes were Asmodeus' screams of fury and Charles' answering ones in the same, unearthly language.

Sebastian kept his eyes closed, and for the first time in years, he believed as he prayed.

[dollsonmain]

Ok, Son's at school. I didn't realize they're getting out early on Thursday instead of on Friday, so I have a lot less alone time before another long holiday break than I thought.

Ugh. I do honestly like spending time with my Son, but not the noise videos he likes. They hurt. He's good about understanding when I can't take it anymore, though, and will either go in another room or is comfortable with me going down to the basement for a while.

I think maybe we'll listen to some of those records that I found unbearable together over the holiday. I think Son might like those, and while I don't like them, it doesn't mean he's not allowed to.

Still need to get a record cleaning kit.

-

That Guy is pushing both Son and me to get jobs somewhere in town without cars. I'm like, how we get to work????

He usually yells at me that I'm making excuses, then yesterday in the car yelled that he'd drive us, and had already said that.

He never said that.

He said he'd get Son a car once Son got his license, and then Son could take himself to work, and every time I mention how would I get to work he's said I'm making excuses and also said that I'd get the job first and then we'd figure out transportation which is illogical.

Not once did he say he intended to personally drive us to work, at least not until yesterday.

I don't think he means that anyway.

How's he going to do that? He leaves for work at 5 am, and if I don't start until like 9am to 6pm because I'd have to work full time to qualify for insurance which is what this is all about, I mean, I'm not sitting around my workplace for an extra 4-5 hours before my shift especially if I happen to find an office job and the office is closed until work time. That's just not possible in the winter.

Then he has to be home in time to drive Son to work after school but if he's not getting to work himself until 9 or 10 am because he has to drive me, then he's not getting home until 7 or 8 because it's a long commute (1 hr 15 minutes one way) to HIS work, and Son's work would probably be something like 5 to 10pm because he is a teenager in school.

Then he'd be having to go pick me up around 6 pm, and Son at maybe 10pm. They'd get home around 11.

The only other option is that I manage to stumble upon some legitimate work-from-home (I'd rather work outside and interact with people; I've been trapped in this house and isolated for 16 years) or work overnights, but he's vetoed the idea of me working nights because he doesn't want to sleep alone.

Depending on where Son and I would be working we might be able to manage our schedules such that Son goes to work right after school (5pm or so start time, gives him time to come home, shower, get dressed, and leave again) and then I start work when Son's shift is ending so that That Guy makes one trip to town to drop Son off at work, another to pick up Son and drop me off and that would be roughly 9:30 pm to 10:30 pm if we happen to work in the same place or at least nearby each other. He'd get home and get to bed around 11. Then That Guy has to come and get me at 7am which is right after Son gets on the bus (meaning That Guy would have to get up with Son in the morning to make sure he got on the bus because I wouldn't be there), bring me home, and then he might be leaving for work around 8:30 am assuming he did his morning get-ready before leaving to get me. Gets to work at 9:30, works the full shift so off work at 6:30 pm, then gets home at 7:30, though more like 8:30 or even 9 due to rush hour traffic out of the DC Metro area and at that point Son's missed most of his work shift...

It's the same as the insurance thing. He demands it happens then gets in the way of it happening and blames others for it not happening.

What he needs to do to make this work the way he wants it to is get at least one more car that son and I could share or for us to move somewhere the two of us can walk to work.

Either way, it's going to cost him money to not have to spend his money on us and he's short circuiting trying to figure out how to make this all work without him spending any money.

[part2of3]

I need money.

I need lots of money.

I need money for free.

My dad has Alzheimer's and it's getting worse pretty can't be left alone. I can't really do a second job or even overtime at my current job. I can barely handle the 40 hours I'm doing already. My mom also has a number of health issues and I'm helping to take care of both of them. Plus my own issues. Living with IBS makes it hard for me to want to leave the house. I've also got a pinched nerve in the back that makes walking or even standing for long periods of time painful. So again, working more doesn't seem like an option.

My family is drowning in debt. And I keep using my credit cards to help them out of various crisises. But then I can't afford to pay off the cards after I do that. So I'm drowning in debt now to.

Most recently my dad got a hold of my mom's car keys. Within minutes of leaving the house he rear-ended another car. And we didn't have insurance at the time. So it's very likely that the insurance of the other driver could sue us. I don't know what they could possibly take. Neither of my parents are working, they're both on disability which I think is exempt from being sued. We have no assets besides the house. Which has two mortgages against it. And I was told that homes are also typically exempt from being sued. So for lucky, we're too poor to suffer consequences. Plus, he totaled the car. We can't afford repairs. Can't afford another car. I can't afford the extra wear and tear it's going to put on my car driving my family around now that it's all that we have.

But it is endlessly frustrating living in America. Feels like our society is designed to keep you poor. We are constantly bombarded with late fees and overdraft fees and various penalty fees. There was a problem with our mortgage not too long ago and the only way to get back on track was to have what they called a balloon payment every month. Because we couldn't afford the pay them they are now charging us double every month for like 6 months.

I need a shit ton of money.

And whenever I talk like this to other people, whenever I'm just venting, a lot of people say the same things. They say save up. You over time. Find a better paying job. Etc. And I keep saying that the problem isn't that I don't have enough money. The problem is that everything in the world costs too much. Like I just said, late fees and penalty fees and all of that. If I got a better paying job, it would only give me more for other people to take from me.

And what kind of better pay could I even get? Like I just said I can barely leave my house and I can barely stand up. I don't have any special skills or training. I'm already making close to 23 an hour. Which isn't bad. And as far as contract security work goes, I am at the highest paid contract in my area.

I'll say it again, it is exhausting to live in this country. Disheartening. Can't even save enough to leave this country.

Feeling trapped all the time. And I know that a lot of, if not all of my troubles would go away if I just abandoned my parents. I'm not under any kind of legal obligation to look after them. But I also know that if I left, my mom would be dead within a few months. Either from the stress of dealing with my dad by herself, or she'd kill herself. Something she threatens on a regular basis. Or, if she does somehow survive longer than I expect, they'd lose the house from not being able to pay the mortgage. They couldn't afford any of the bills without the little bit of help I offer. I couldn't have that on my conscious.

But it would be nice to have a winning lottery ticket. I'm not even asking for millions here. Just like 20,000 on a scratch off could be enough to get me closer to having my head above water. 20,000 wouldn't even be enough for absolutely everything but it would be a huge help.

I'm just rambling. Just venting. I don't know how anybody does it in America.

[myfirstandlast]

my depression is reaching unsalvageable levels and i don’t know what to do im quite scared and i don’t have anyone around me for protection or support

[fanficimagery]

Guns, Claws & Teeth pt. 2

On the way back from running an errand for your brother, you stop by an auto garage for a tune-up for your car. Once there, you run into a bit of trouble but it's nothing you can't handle. Unfortunately, the humans you've made friends with are dragged into the mess.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Words: 4.1K Author's Note: Violence. Some good 'ol fashion wolf vs. wolf action.

The parking lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive is tense.

Gemma and the men had taken your words seriously, pulling out weapons from their hiding spots and arming themselves. Though they do keep a respectable distance from you as you angrily pace back and forth, texting your brother every now and then.

"So.. werewolves, huh?" Juice wonders. You glance at him, eyes narrowing as you try to determine whether he's actually curious or what.

And seeing that he actually does look curious, even as his brothers nudge him to shut him up, you grin. "Yeah. There's so much you don't know about the supernatural world, man. I'll tell you about it later if I live through this night."

That stops everyone short. "You don't think you're gonna make it?"

"M'not sure," you answer distractedly. "Alphas are more powerful than a beta or omega, but it is possible for them to fall to a less powerful wolf."

"So your family," Gemma says, arms crossed and foot tapping as she stares you down, "was that all bullshit or..?"

"Definitely not bullshit. I just left out a few key details."

"Such as?" She asks.

"Such as the fact that the bitch who targeted my family came from a family of werewolf hunters. They had a code to only hunt wolves who hunted humans, but she defected. She killed all wolves, no matter if they were good or bad, and who better to take out than the one wolf family who was highly respected in the werewolf community."

"And the relationship with your brother? That true too?"

"Yeah. She needed to know the ins and outs of our home, and when a majority of the Hales would be in the same place at the same time. I had family who were human, including the ten month old, and she didn't care. As long as they bore the name Hale, she thought they deserved to die."

"You said your uncle got justice for the family. He kill her?" Opie asks.

You glance at him and give him a nod. "He ripped her throat out. And then my brother ripped his out."

Everyone frowns, but it's Jax who mutters, "What the fuck."

You chuckle, scenting the air real quick to make sure no one is approaching, and then explain. "When they pulled my uncle from the fire, his body had trouble healing. He was basically trapped in his mind, slowly going crazy. Fast forward years later when my sister gets lured back to Beacon Hills and my mostly healed uncle kills his own niece for her alpha power." The men and Gemma all stare at you in shock. "He wanted her alpha power to start his own pack and hunt down those responsible for the fire. So when me and my brother came back, and figured everything out, we let him get his revenge before my brother tore his throat out and became the next Hale alpha."

"So what, you both just picked right back up in the place your family was burned alive?" Jax asks.

"Yes. We rebuilt our home and opened the garage. Those kids I told you about, the ones who work in the garage? My brother gave them the option to take the bite since it was fifty-fifty it would take. A bite from an alpha can either kill you or turn you. It cured Erica of her epilepsy, let Isaac be strong enough to stand up to his father, and gave Boyd a new family. It's our job to protect Beacon Hills and it's people from supernatural threats."

Everyone goes quiet as your words sink in.

Eventually, Juice snorts. "So do you like get furry on the night of the full moon?"

Opie, Jax and Chibs all start to laugh.

"Only those with great power can turn into an actual wolf. I only have a-" Your ears perk up at the sound of slowly approaching vehicles and you tense. You glance over your shoulder, scent the air, and let loose a low growl. "Enough about me. We've got incoming."

"How many?" Jax is immediately at your side as you face the gates.

"Four."

He scoffs. "Easy."

"Four wolves against one wolf and five humans? I don't know, Jax." Two vehicles park outside of the opened gates, but only one man gets off. "Stay behind me," you mumble.

You're not surprised to have these bikers spread out on either side of you, but you are surprised when Gemma joins them. Red eyes flare, which causes an automatic warning growl to reverberate through your throat, and a smirk spreads across the man's lips as he steps under a street lamp. "It appears we've brought claws to a gun fight," the alpha muses. "Let me rectify that real quick."

Three more wolves get off the vehicles, joining their alpha with weapons in hand.

"You don't want to do this," you tell him. "You're gonna start a war you have no hope of winning the moment alpha Hale catches wind of your scent."

"You're trespassing on my land, beta."

"You didn't claim it with the alpha in charge, pup." The alpha's smile falls and you raise an eyebrow at him. "What? Didn't think I could smell the difference," you say. "You're not a born wolf. You're newly bitten and in way over your head. You start this fight right now and alpha Hale's gonna rip your head off."

He stares at you before a cruel smirk forms. "I'll take my chances."

The wolves open fire, causing the humans to duck and take cover before they can fire back. Your instincts are telling you to take cover as well, but you quickly realize they're not firing at you or the humans. They're firing at the shops and vehicles.

The sound of glass shattering has you whirling around and your eyes widen at the sight of the back windshield of your car having been shot out. You face the wolves once more, eyes glowing and teeth elongating as you let out a heart stopping roar of rage.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

You rush forward, meeting one beta head on as the gun fire ceases. You deflect a punch, raising a hand full of claws and slashing the wolf across his torso. Another beta approaches, but you're quick to kick out and catch them in their gut. A gunshot rings out, too close for comfort, and you roar as you feel your right shoulder jerk back upon impact. Someone wraps their arms around you from behind and you're quick to throw your head back, grinning viciously at the snap of bone you hear before dropping and sweeping their feet from underneath them.

The gunfire picks up once more and you feel a searing pain in your thigh, but you ignore it. You take claws across the chest before the beta attacking you takes a bullet to the side of his head, and you glance back at the men you'd gotten to know earlier who are clearly watching your back now. The alpha roars something awful, which makes you flinch, but your focus is still on the other two betas.

More searing pain erupts in your side as you throw yourself at another beta, slashing claws across their throat before falling into a crouch before launching yourself at the third beta. The fight with a third beta is a struggle and you can feel your control slowly slipping. And when you feel yourself losing the upper hand, you growl before sinking your fangs into the side of their throat and ripping out a chunk of flesh.

"BEHIND YOU!"

More gunshots ring out and you whirl around just in time to see the last wolf stumble in surprise at all the gunshots now littering his chest. And in your blood lust, you lunge up and dig your claws into his throat before yanking out his trachea.

As quiet takes over the parking lot, you become aware of your heavy breathing. You're still on high alert as you glance around at the bodies littering the lot and you let loose a warning growl when you hear a pebble skip across asphalt. The five humans freeze, two of them halfheartedly raising guns in your direction.

"Hey, weren't your eyes blue before?"

Those words knock the angry haze from your mind and you blink in confusion at Juice. "What? They are blue."

"Nah, they're red now."

"What?" Your heart stops and you glance around at the bodies littering the ground, bile rising in the back of your throat when you see the then-alpha staring blankly up at the sky. "No, no, no."

"Honey, I don't know what you're freaking out about, but we really need to remove those bullets from you," Gemma says, though she keeps her distance.

You look at her, brow furrowing. "What?"

"You've been shot three times. You need to get those bullets out."

Gemma's words slowly sink in and you glance down at yourself. Sure enough, there's a wound on your right shoulder, your right side, and your left thigh. "Oh."

"So come on. Come join us in the clubhouse while Chibs dig those out for you."

"Y-Yeah. Okay."

You're in a bit of a daze as someone leads you into what they call the clubhouse, then over to a table where everything is swiped off before you're told to lay down.

"Shirt's gonna have to come off, lass."

Without a care, you strip off your shirt which leaves you in just your bra and shorts. Before you lay down, your eyes land on a bar and the liquor shelf behind it. "Can someone grab me a bottle? I don't care what it is, I just need something stronger than beer."

Juice jogs over behind the bar, picking up a random bottle of liquor and running it back to you. You twist off the lid and take a long pull from it, only stopping when Jax puts his hand on the bottle to push it down. "Hey, take it slow."

Your nose wrinkles at the brief burn of alcohol. "Don't need to. I can't get drunk unless it's a special mix." You take another long pull of the liquor before setting the bottle aside, and lay down. "Okay. I'm ready."

Chibs dig into your shoulder first and you can't help the flare of your eyes or the elongation of your teeth. But you don't snarl or glare, instead you grit your fangs and bear it.

The moment the first bullet comes out, Juice is there with a dish towel to press against the wound. You wave him off before he can ruin it. "Don't bother. It's already closing." Everyone freezes and glances at your shoulder wound, and you tiredly smile at their awe. "Perks of being a werewolf. We heal quickly."

As Chibs works on the other two bullets, you dig your phone out of shorts. You unlock it and scroll down to your brother's contact, tapping on it and then placing the phone on speaker before letting it clatter to the table top.

It rings and rings, and then, "What happened?"

"The pack attacked." You grunt as the bullet in your thigh gives Chibs a bit of trouble. "I'm currently laid out on the table as a friend digs out a bullet from my thigh."

"Shit. Did any get away?"

"Only four came- three betas and the alpha. M'not sure if there's more to his pack, but-" You trail off, unsure how to say what you have to next.

"But what, YN?"

"I killed the alpha." Your brother goes quiet and tears slowly fill your eyes. "I didn't mean to, Der. It just happened. I was so caught up in the fight and-"

"We'll figure it out, little sister. Just sit tight. We'll be there soon."

"Okay."

The phone beeps, signifying that Derek's hung up and you sigh. "Are cops going to be an issue?"

"Nah," Jax says. "We have them in our pocket."

Just as Chibs tells you you're all done, numerous sounds of roaring engines fill the air.

"Shit." Jax cusses.

"Don't worry. I'll hold them off," Gemma says. "But they will want an explanation."

You sit up and gratefully accept a shirt Opie holds out for you. "That's fine. So long as they can keep this between us, they can know." The shirt is black with the words SAMCRO stamped across the front and you grip it one hand. "Is there a bathroom I can wash all the blood off in?"

"Yeah. Ope, get her a shower," Jax says.

Opie nods and gestures for you to follow. "Thank you." Staring at Jax once more, you ask, "Do you think some of the boys can get the bodies in the vehicles and park them out back? I'll have my brother get rid of it all later."

"Sure."

You follow Opie further into the clubhouse just as there's a bit of a commotion outside, but you don't pay it any mind. Opie opens the door to what appears to be a dorm room and he points to another door inside. "There's the bathroom. My wife has some leggings here if you want a pair."

"Yes, please."

The tall biker turns towards the dresser, pulling open a drawer and pulling out a pair of dark gray leggings. You flash him a smile as you accept them and then head into the bathroom.

A quick rinse off and some fresh clothes later, you're stepping out into the room where Opie is still waiting. Upon seeing you, he chuckles. "You're so unassuming. If I hadn't seen what you did earlier, I wouldn't believe whatever Gem and Jax are telling the boys outside."

You shift nervously in front of him. "That's what's scary about the supernatural world. You never know who is human and who is not." He hums in agreement. "So, uh, is there a place I can burn my bloody clothes?"

"Yeah. I'll tell a Prospect to get a fire going."

"Thanks. And if you can have someone catalog the damage those assholes did to the garage and club, I'll pay for all damages."

Opie looks at you in surprise. "I'll let Gemma know."

Walking back out into the club, you grab up your bloody shirt and follow Opie. Outside in the lot, it seems like Jax is holding court to a bunch of bikers that are listening intently to everything he's telling them about the fight that took place and werewolves. The scent of bleach assaults your nose, and you watch as one individual pours bleach on the now body-free parking lot and another washes it away with a water hose.

Opie pulls someone aside, murmuring something in his ear, and the man glances at you with wide eyes. He nods and hesitantly makes his way towards you, holding his hands out for your bloodied clothes that you readily hand over. As he scampers off, you glance back up to see several people staring at you.

One individual with a head of curly dark hair and receding hairline scoffs. "She's a werewolf? I don't know what you've been smoking, kid, but werewolves don't-"

You snarl, flashing red eyes and very sharp teeth at him.

Nearly everyone pulls a weapon, but you stand your ground and don't say a word. Instead, you let your supernatural features fade away as Jax yells at his people. "ENOUGH! I didn't tell you about werewolves so you can shoot the one we're on friendly terms with as of right now. YN came here as a client to the garage- nothing more, nothing less. She didn't know she was bringing a fight to the club, but she made damn sure to eliminate the threat. Show her an ounce of respect."

There are several unhappy grumbles, but everyone listens. Weapons are holstered and everyone eyes you warily as Opie leads you to the picnic tables. You sigh, stepping up onto the bench so you can sit on the edge of the table itself. You're surprised as Jax joins you, and Opie and Juice sit near your feet on the bench. The other picnic table is brought in front of the one you're sitting on, and Gemma takes a seat along with Chibs and two other individuals.

"YN, this is Clay and Happy." Jax introduces you to a white-haired man who still looks like he has a lot of fight in him and another individual whose stoic expression unsettles you. Both nod in greeting.

"Hi." You fold your arms in your lap, looking at Gemma head on. "I already told Opie, but since you're here.." She perks up, listening. "If you can have someone catalog the damages to your garage and club, I'll pay for it all."

Jax nudges you. "You don't have to do that."

"I do." You look at him, smiling faintly. "These wolves came because of me, so I'll pay for any and all damages."

Gemma slowly smiles. "Thanks, baby."

"Don't even mention it."

Gemma yells for someone and tells them to start logging the damage and it's worth. Then after they run to get started on the job they were assigned, Chibs looks up at you.

"I got a question for 'ya, lass."

"Shoot."

"Why were 'ya so freaked to have red eyes instead of blue?"

You exhale tiredly. "Because red eyes signify alpha status. No pack can have more than one alpha unless they want to constantly butt heads, which means I'll have to leave my pack and start anew elsewhere."

"I have a question too," Clay suddenly speaks up. "Why tell us all of this? If you creatures are dead set on keeping the secret of your existence, why tell my family?"

It takes you a moment to think about it.

"Have you ever met someone and just instantly clicked with them?" You ask. "Someone you met that you just felt at ease with even though they were a complete stranger?" Clay shrugs. "Well when I met Chibs, Jax, Juice and Gemma, that's exactly how I felt. Like I knew them for years and was reuniting with an old friend."

Jax coos next to you and you immediately nudge him, chuckling as you shake your head at him. Clay has a few more questions for you and, though he's not the one in charge, you feel like you should answer anything they throw at you.

A couple hours later, after all the remnants of a gunfight having taken place have been discarded and beers have been passed around to those sitting around you, three vehicles pull up to the lot. Everyone tenses, but when seeing the Camaro that's nearly identical to yours out front, you tell them it's okay.

"It's my brother." When Derek and the betas get off their vehicles, you're surprised to see Peter trailing after them. You hop off the table to greet your brother, hesitating briefly upon touching him before giving in and hugging him. He chuckles and then you stare at your friends before asking, "Can I?"

After all, you didn't want to trigger your brother's wolf by another alpha getting too close to his betas.

"Of course."

Erica, Isaac and Boyd can immediately tell the difference when you hug them, and you smile faintly when you flash red eyes at them.

"Holy shit," Erica says.

"Yeah." Looking at your brother, you say, "There's two vehicles out back with the bodies. Can they take them far out of the county and stage a scene? I don't wanna bring suspicion to the garage's doorstep."

"What's the scene gonna look like?"

"Shootout and an animal attack." You shrug. "I used claws and teeth, and the humans used guns."

"Okay."

Derek gestures for the betas to do as they're told as Juice tells them where to find the vehicles around back. Boyd mentions he'll follow in one of their cars, and Isaac and Erica jog around the garage to go find the vehicles they need to dispose of.

Left alone with just Derek and Peter, you quickly introduce everyone to each other.

"Hold on," Juice says, frowning. "I thought you said your uncle Peter was dead? That your brother ripped his throat out?"

All gazes dart to Peter and Derek who are only a few feet apart, and Peter chuckles as you roll your eyes. "Uncle Peter has an awful habit of not staying dead. He's a nuisance, but as the Pack Enforcer, he's kind of needed."

"Thank you, darling niece. It's so nice to hear that you only keep me around because of my role in the pack and not because we're family."

"I stopped caring for your well-being the moment we found out you cut Laura, your other darling niece, in half," you deadpan.

Gemma gasps and suddenly the humans are on edge.

From the corner of your eye, you see Happy sit a little straighter at that information as he stares at your uncle. Everyone kind of reshuffles around then so that Peter and Derek are not at anyone's back, and you end up between Jax and Opie once more as they stand close by on either side of you.

"So what's your plan?" Derek asks, arms crossing over his chest.

"I'm not sure." You copy his posture. "I don't want to risk making betas. The bite has a 50/50 chance of taking, and I don't want to risk killing someone."

"You and I both know that it's possible to have a pack with members who are human." His eyes dart to the men standing next to you and you frown. "So long as you bond with these people and treat them as family, they're pack."

"What happens if she doesn't form a pack?" Jax asks.

Derek's gaze darts to him as he answers. "If an alpha remains packless, it'll slowly make them feral to the point they need to be put down."

Every gaze then turns to you and you try not to shrink under their gaze.

"I have a better idea," Peter says. "Why not give the alpha power to another wolf who actually wants it?"

"Yeah? And who would that be?"

Peter smirks as his eyes flare blue, but the moment he takes a step in your direction, Jax and Opie are closing ranks on you and putting you just behind their shoulders. You glance at the backs of both men in surprise, head whipping in the direction of Happy and Juice who now have guns resting casually in their laps.

Peter freezes and scoffs, and Derek smirks. "It seems you might already have that pack of yours without even realizing it." Wide eyes meet the gaze of your brother and he chuckles. "Charming is in need of an alpha now, little sister. And it seems you're a new alpha who unknowingly formed a bond with men permanently attached to the town."

You gape at Derek, your expression not changing as Jax and Opie grin over their shoulders at you. When no one says anything, you sigh. "Does anyone know of a house for rent? I'm gonna need a place to stay while I purchase some land and build a house away from nosy neighbors."

"Juice, get on that," Jax says. "Find a house with a decent landlord and then look for land that can be built on."

"Got it, Prez."

Juice jogs away to get started on his new task and you shake your head at your brother. "Congratulations. Charming and its people are now your responsibility," Derek says. "Problem solved."

Clay clears his throat. "That's pretty much the job of the Sons here. We look out for Charming and the locals."

Derek nods at him. "That's great. But if another pack rolls into town, looking to cause trouble, or a rogue werewolf wanders into town and starts killing people for food, how are you going to take care of that problem? Do you know the signs to look for to determine whether or not it's a supernatural threat?"

Clay frowns. "No."

"Then that's where YN steps in. She's going to be a fountain of knowledge. Tap into it."

"I don't have to be a part of whatever operation you have going on here," you say while gesturing towards the building, "but apparently my wolf has shown interest in these knuckleheads," this time you gesture to Opie and Jax, "and any attack on them is an attack on me. And if a supernatural threat comes to town, you're gonna want me in your corner."

Clay seems to think over that before he subtly nods and tucks Gemma under his arm, accepting whatever may come next. Jax slowly smiles, playfully punching his friend's arm. "Werewolf bodyguard.. sweet."

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

��Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

[harfanfare]

How to win a heart of Floyd Leech?

a/n: Someone requested this; ask got deleted by accident! Hope you will like it, Anon!

Warning!

Once you start walking through the specific points of the guide, your life will be exposed to the presence of Floyd Leech. Interrupting the action at one of the stages may cause many problems; F. Leech categorizes stopping as "boring", which puts the user of this guide in great danger.

The only way out is to get to the very end. Or not to start at all.

You act at your own risk.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ 

1.   Be an easy new target.

To one’s surprise, it is much harder not to catch his attention.

You can easily become another entertaining target of Floyd, mostly by doing silly things or him just considering them as ones.

And to automatically get labelled as “silly”, you just need to fall into one of his traps—he prepares them for someone else, maybe for goldfish, maybe for another person given a sea-inspired nickname, expecting to enjoy watching how familiar face twitches with terror as he jumps into the scene and tightly embraces passing student.

But no. You were the one who showed up in the wrong place and time as Floyd jumped out from his hideout, scaring you half to death. With a strangled yelp, you sharply backed away. After gaining a slight flush on your cheeks, you recognised who you just bumped into and quietly gasped.

However, he was much more bewildered than you were.

He had never encountered somebody who wouldn’t just freeze under his touch. Jumping away, gasping, muttering half-hearted apologies and flushing? That’s new.

That’s also entertaining.

Even after your quickly disappearance from the scene, his gaze somehow inexplicably started returning to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2.   Visit Mostro Lounge often.

“We’re looking for someone who would like to work part-time for Azul~” Floyd said, sliding poster across the table. He popped up in front of you unannounced, having your thoughts return to dark reality.

“Oh,” you replied quietly, packing your things faster. “Good luck with it.”

You got up from your seat, but the thought of letting you go just like that didn’t even cross Floyd’s mind.

“Ehh? Shrimpy, aren’t you going to try?” he asked, frowning. You winced a little at the nickname he called you, not sure how to feel about it. “You know, you won’t work there for free.”

Azul will grant your wish.

You fidgeted a little, questioning your response. You heard—who didn’t?—rumours that Octavinelle leader could fulfil any request for a certain price. Ones were working for it, others were paying, and lasts were trading their request with Azul’s one.

The thought of having anything just by working in some café made you consider the offer again—this time quickier.

“I will go,” you decided.

“Hooray!” Floyd smiled cheerfully, just as if he won some grand prize in the lottery. “But what could Shrimpy possibly wish for, to change your response so drastically~?” he wondered but didn’t get any answer in return.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3.   Be honest.

“Shrimpy...”

You passed Floyd, without sparing him a look. Anyone who has known you for a while would notice that your movements were a bit stiff and creaky.

Once you heard Floyd’s voice, a wave of tiredness struck you as if you didn’t get any sleep last night after working your shift in Mostro Lounge.

There were so many people to serve, so many things to do... and yet, you couldn’t help with anything, still not knowing how everything works, messing up with orders and breaking some plates in process.

Floyd buzzing around you, asking you some random questions (“Shrimpy, have you done it before?”). You answered them quickly, but each of them bumped you out of rhythm, making you forget what you were doing. It also didn’t help that Floyd certainly liked you being disoriented, replying with a shrug and grin on his face at your thundering glances.

So now, after gaining a little trauma from working in Octavinelle’s café, all you could do is ignore Floyd’s presence, silently accusing him of your infamous fiasco.

“Hey, Shrimpy!” he called you again, catching you up. “Are you mad?”

“I am not mad,” you snapped and took an unstable breath. “Look, I just started working, and on my first day I made already so many mistakes—”

“Yeah,” he replied indifferently. “And what with that?”

“...I couldn’t even correctly serve drinks—”

“Oh, stop!” Floyd muffled your mouth with his hand, an annoying look on his face. “I know where it is going. And no, you can’t quit a job, after all my efforts to get you there. It will get boring again!”

“But—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” he corrected his hand on your mouth, now not letting even a sound get through his fingers. “Azul knows that you tried your best. And for these plates you broke, he already added them to your paycheck. You need to practice! Not to give up, Shrimpy!”

You looked up at him, quite stunned by these words. Perhaps he quoted someone from the book or heard someone talking like that...

But it was encouraging. In some way, considering that you couldn’t protest, having your mouth covered. But still, it was encouraging.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4.   Take classes together.

You can have the power of controlling Floyd’s behaviour, making other students’ life easier. Or you two can be a walking disaster.

Turning alchemy lesson into putting random ingredients into a boiler and praying that the mysterious mixture won’t explode.

History classes started being a regular pinching ritual to keep yourself from falling asleep (you are being pinched more, even when you don’t feel sleepy).

In contrast, flying lessons are peaceful. Nor Jade, nor Floyd, nor Azul are fond of these classes. Floyd is much eager to stand both feet on the ground, watching you practice or having you sulking next to him about heights.

However, if you are a calm, shy, or tranquil person, exchanging little notes or drawings will be a little habit of yours. Handing them discreetly under the eye of sir Crewel is quite a challenge, but it also gives satisfaction once the note was given.

Floyd throws away most of your paper conversations, but the ones he really likes, he cherishes them by keeping them with him, stuffed in his pockets. He will be irritated if anyone would like to see what you two were writing about, even if the talk was about new strawberries delivery for the new recipe.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.   Being ticklish or not.

There are two possible scenarios, whether his new, lovely target is ticklish or not.

If is: prepare for being touched a lot. Observing how you quiver with surprise, when he lightly—he especially makes his touch less fierce, knowing very well that tickling isn’t violent—wraps his hands around your waist, making you hold your breath.

He would tickle you a lot, very often making you cry out of laugh and pain that follows sharp writhing and fidgeting, but never that much, to seriously upset you. That’s some luck in such unlucky situation.

If not: he will try to find other weak point. Or will try to make you ticklish—his hands are particularly cold and pressing them to your warm skin, might make you give him a reaction he would enjoy.

Albeit, if you also won’t return any expression even then, he will seriously search for some other weakness. Slightly biting an ear lobe, whispering next to your ear or anything that could make his smile appear, once he made you put him somewhere between “I despise you with each and every cell” and abstract mumbling with the heat on your checks.

Oh, he loves your reactions so much.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6.   Learn all nicknames he gave other people (you will unlock an option to slightly dish other people).

“Oh Lord...” you muttered to yourself, as your gaze followed scribbled list of names that Jade just passed to you. He willingly connected all student’s names with pseudonyms Floyd gave other people and handed the roaster over to you once you helped him with some kitchen cleaning.

“There are so many, right?” Jade replied with a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure you already memorised some of them, being around Floyd that much.”

You nodded mindlessly as you tried to get names into your head. You mouthed them soundlessly one by one, motivated to learn them by the end of the week.

The chuckle that escaped Jade’s lips startled you, and you realised that he still was in the room. Or that you didn’t leave the Lounge even after your shift has already ended.

“My brother surely didn’t exaggerate anything about you,” he said, his tone a bit more buoyant than ever, although you couldn’t be sure as the thick air of mystery still echoed in his voice. “I wonder how it will finally end?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7.   Always share your takoyaki with him.

“What are you hiding, Shrimpy?”

You shuddered at a voice that you did not want to hear at this moment, not for all the world. Unless that the world included a chest filled with takoyaki, which you could give to certain somebody.

You felt that instead of a shashlik of tasty balls, you were holding a knife in your hands, a veritable proof of a crime you had committed. It weighed heavily in your grip, and Floyd's approaching footsteps did not make your situation any better.

It was a time to hide the evidence.

You pushed as much as you could into your mouth and swallowed a few balls without even gnawing them much. You almost choked on them.

“Me? I?” you asked innocently. You sincerely hoped that no sauce or a stray piece of cake was left on your face. “What could I possibly hide?”

"Hmm, hmm~," he drew closer, and you needed all your will gathered, to make yourself stay where you were. Even without looking in the mirror, you knew you were all pale on the face. “With my little eye, I spy something...”

His gaze went down, just to your hands, which you tried to hide behind your back.

Not giving him a clear look at your palms or wooden stick, you turned around on the heel and run with all your might. Your muscles felt somehow stiff as if they also didn’t see a chance to win this race.

Now Floyd was sure you are hiding something, and there is no chance he’ll let it go.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8.   Watch him at his basketball practice.

81:30 for the blue team!

“Floyd once again started playing wild,” Ace breathed with clear regret in his voice. He glanced your way, frowning at you. “It’s your fault. Please come at practices when Floyd is in my team, not otherwise.”

You laughed awkwardly as he walked away.

A moment later, Floyd reached for a bottle with water and a towel you bravely guarded through the whole practice. He smiled wholeheartedly, happy with the win, water, and your presence.

“How did you like the game?” he asked once he changed from PE clothes and you two started heading towards Octavinelle.

“It was really fun!” you admitted, a speck of amusement appeared in Floyd’s eyes. “The red team didn’t have much time to capture a ball before you got hold of it again.”

“Hehe~ I’m glad you liked it,” he said. “I really like to play basketball, even more than ever, when I know that you are watching! That’s why,” he added, sincerity well-heard in his voice, “you need to come even more often!”

You nodded happily.

You just couldn’t mind it, all that accompanying him.

It was... fun.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9.   Dance, dance, dance!

Heels tapped on the floor and the sound of these steps would probably have spread through the room, if not for the jazz music pounding through Mostro Lounge’s speakers.

Floyd pulled you closer, letting a playful smile on his lips stretch even more. You couldn’t help but smile back, before gasping as he spun you around your axis. You lost balance and would fall if not steady grip around your waist, as Floyd leaned on closer to you, making you bend on one leg more and entirely rely on his touch.

Last notes of melody faded, and you still were in that pose, facing each other. With each second, Floyd’s face was changing from some form of amazement to amusement, finally letting you properly stand.

“Ha... When did you learn to dance so smoothly?” you asked smiling in wonder.

“Hehe~ With legs you can dance a lot more than in the sea,” he answered. “On land, it’s super fun~”

You nodded at his words.

Floyd was a wonderful dancer.

But you can’t be sure if being a good dancing partner is the only thing that made you feel all warm and fuzzy because butterflies still didn’t leave your stomach.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10.            “Let’s do something fun!”

“Here is your paycheck,” Azul handed you a white envelope, sealed with a stamp with the Octavinelle logo. “And you, [Name], was also working for some request, right?”

You nodded as you stared at the envelope.

Somehow, knowing how stupid the lingering thought in your mind was, you couldn’t bear to look up. If you would, your gaze would probably ignore all the elegant furniture of the room, even the owner of the room, Azul, just to settle on Floyd.

If you saw anything more than his shoes, that stupid thought would make their way outside, turning plans into action.

And Floyd unknowingly did everything to make them come true.

“Shrimpy,” he cupped your face with his hands, judging by his voice he seemed quite... worried? When he made you look in his olive and gold eyes, you started holding your breath. “Are you okay?”

With that question, your strong will to wish for something expensive or practical was broken.

You started fidgeting more, not knowing how to express your thoughts in words. “I think I have a request... a question for Floyd, rather than for you, Azul...”

Azul nodded at first uncertain and the room has fallen into silence once again until you spoke.

“Well, Floyd,” you turned to him, trying your best not to wander your gaze away from him, “Please, take your time with answering, but I want your response to be, uh, honest.”

You were tripping onto your own words, embarrassment soaring in your body as you started to think that you should’ve kept quiet. But Floyd was patient with your answer, as well as Jade and Azul who observed the situation as if they predicted it before.

“I mean- Okay, just answer the question.” You took an erratic breath. “Would you like to—”

“Sure!” Floyd interrupted you before even hearing the whole question. “I would like to do everything with you.”

You stood there, all confused. But, by Floyd’s expression you knew that he guessed what you wanted to say. Face heating up, you forgot about Azul and Jade, who hid a chuckle by turning his head to the side.

“How fun,” he said as Floyd wrapped his arms around you, as if shielding you from other people in the room.

“I won’t share Shrimpy with you, Jade. Not a chance.”

[artzee-bee]

End of all things [1] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir)

Summary: Y/N had been Chat Noir’s friend and moral support for a long time now. Even though she had magical powers too, she never liked getting involved with akuma attacks, but now, as Hawkmoth’s gotten control of the miraculous of creation, she couldn’t stay indiferent anymore. She had to save her friend and Paris!

Genre: Mostly angst? A little fluff

Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death/dying

A/N: This was requested, but as I was writting it, it got very long and I’ve decided to post it in 2 parts. I’m not gonna post the request just now, so as to not spoil the rest of the story but Part 2 will be coming out on friday!!!

Part 2

~~~

Chat was pacing around the room, waiting for you to be done with your potion. You had heard from your parents that there had been a new akuma attack today, but as the news reported, the two parisian heros took care of the problem in no time. For this reason, Chat’s presence at your house felt unusual. Normally he would stop by when he needed to rant, when he was in need of comfort and reassurance but the fight today went well, so what could possibly be bothering him?

“Ok, I’m done” you said, screwing the cap on the little bottle and placing it on your shelf “Wanna talk?” you asked, to which Chat gave you a shy smile

“Yeah, a little”

You made your way to your bed, motioning for him to follow you. You got under your covers and passed him his favorite plushie, a cat to no one’s surprise

“So what’s up? Is it about the fight today?”

“Well no it’s more like a...personal problem?”

“Oh…”

“Claws out” in a rush of light and electricity, the infamous hero vanished before you, transforming into Adrien Agrest

“Well, what is it?” 

Adrien revealed his identity to you months ago. You first met him as Chat, but when you really got to know each other, he decided you needed to know all of him. Well, he needed you to know all of him.

You listened to him rant until way past midnight. Until you were both too tired to stand up straight, so you laid down in your bed, covers up to your necks, muffled stories told in between yawns. You listened carefully, giving him your full attention. He fidgeted with the collar of the stuffed toy and you used your magic to make 2 hot chocolates. Eventually, everything that needed to be said, was said. You offered Adrien to watch a movie, since that always cheered him up, but he refused

“It’s late and I have a photoshoot early in the morning. My makeup team will be angry with my dark circles anyways, better not make it worse” he joked

Adrien transformed back into Chat and you cast a safety spell on him, which you did every time he left your house late at night. He always teased you about being ‘too protective’, but deep down he found it sweet how much you cared and wanted to know that he would get home in one piece.

“Night Chat” you said, wrapping your arms around the hero

“Good night Y/N!”

The next few days went by quietly. You hadn’t run into Adrien at all, but you texted a bit back and forth. Sunday evening however, things took a toll for the worst. You turned on your tv, ready to catch up with your show when you heard Nadja Chamack’s voice doing the news report

“It seems as though Rena Rouge and Chat Noir are struggling to stay on their feet! They have taken shelter under a fallen bus, leaving Ladybug alone to defeat Hawkmoth'' your pulse skyrocketed. As you watched the screen you could see Chat and Rena off to the side, struggling to catch their breath. Rena seemed to be in pain while Chat was trying to help. Ladybug was using her yoyo the best she could in order to protect herself from the supervillain, who was wielding his cane like a sword over her head. The fight was clearly going in Hawkmoth's favour! You grabbed your jacket and ran out the front door and onto the empty streets of Paris, towards the Eiffel Tower, where the fight was taking place. 

People screamed at you from their balconies to go home, warning you about the fight and the danger you were putting your life in but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how they needed you. Chat needed you! Every late night talk and every inside joke shared between you two replaid in your head like a broken record. Behind Chat’s tough mask, his alter ego of hero and protector, was the fragile figure of Adrien Agreste. The young blonde boy who cried during romantic comedies, who liked to have his hair braided and forgot how to speak when someone complimented him. If you didn’t help, the heros would loose and he would most likely die! Alongside Ladybug and Rena who, even though you didn’t know their real identities, were still young girls. As you ran down the street, you heard kids crying inside one of the homes. You ran past but at the last second you heard Nadia’s voice coming from their tv

“Ladybug was akumatized”

You approached the Eiffel tower from the side, where you could see everything going on. In front of the tower, right next to Hawkmoth, stood Marinette Dupain-Cheng, dressed in a tight, dark red suit, darker than Ladybug’s. Black butterflies replaced the dots of the heroine's suit and the purple butterfly mask of Hawkmoth’s control was shining over her face. Marinette was Ladybug! She did, in fact, get akumatized. On the other side, you saw Rena and Chat, struggling to stay up right. They were obviously in a lot of pain and extremely tired, but Hawkmoth was merely mocking them.

“After all this time” Chat spoke up, but his breaths were shallow and rapid “I thought you’d know one thing about us! We don’t give up without a fight. Never will. Especially not against you” and with that, the two ran at each other.

“It doesn’t have to end like this, you know?” he said “We don’t have to fight to death. I wouldn’t want to have that on my conscience. All you have to do is give me your miraculouses willingly. The town will be safe, you will be safe! It’s the most heroic option you’ve got. You won’t be any good to Paris if you are dead”

You knew this was not just another fight between them. This was it. Either the heros won or everything they’ve worked for would be lost. Hawkmoth would win and get his hands on both miraculous and god knows what kind of destruction that would bring not only upon Paris, but the world. You focused all your energy in one spot in the air, right between where Chat and Hawkmoth were supposed to clash but before they could reach each other, you sent a wave of energy that blew both of them apart, like a bomb. Hawkmoth flew back into the Eiffel tower while Chat hit the pavement with a thud. Confused and certainly disturbed, both of them began looking around for an answer as to what happened when, finally, Hawkmoth’s eyes landed on yours.

“Aha, miss Y/L/N. What a spectacular honor to finally meet you!” you didn’t reply, instead you stood tall, maintaining eye contact

“I know a lot about you. Seen a lot. Felt a lot of your emotions. None of them can compare to the powers I’ll have with the two miraculouses. With Ladybug’s earrings and the guardian under my control, I’d say my mission here is almost over’’

“Y/N get back!’’ Chat screamed but you were too involved now to run. This was your fight too.

“It is time you give up Hawkmoth. Paris is not yours, neither are the miraculouses. We will destroy you, no matter what it takes!”

“Listen to yourself, kid! <<Destroy me>>? The most you can do is pull a rabbit out of your hat…” before he could finish his sentence, you snapped your fingers in his direction and instantly, the ground around beneath Hawkmoth and akumatized Marinette, fractured. From within the cracks, many tangled plants came out, encapsulating the 2 villains. You sprinted towards Chat and Rena, ignoring the signs of struggle coming from the prison of weeds.

 Alongside the two superheros, you hid inside a corner coffee shop, which was now empty.

“Y/N, you need to leave!! You are putting yourself in too much danger!” Rena told you, as she collapsed to the ground from exhaustion

“Stop with that already! I am here and I’m not going anywhere!”

“Yes you are!” Chat looked at you. His voice was calm and yet, his eyes were filled with disappointment “You are not a superhero. This is our job!”

“You need help”

“No we don’t!” Chat had never, in all your years of friendship, raised his voice at you, let alone yell “ You need to stay safe! You could die! Hawkmoth doesn’t care about anything if it helps him get what he wants! I am ready to take that risk. Rena is too” you both turned to the red headed hero, only to see her slowly nod “But I can’t allow you to take it”

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“I don’t want you to die!” he screamed again “I love you and I will never forgive myself if you don’t come out of this alive!”

Before you could say anything, you saw Hawkmoth and his minion, through the cafe window, cutting through the last of the plants and escaping your trap. You grabbed Chat’s arm and pulled him to the floor, from where you could not be seen

“We’re in this together now” you said in a stern voice, looking the blonde kid right in his eyes “Whether you like it or not '' this time, he simply nodded.

You stuffed your hands into the pocket of your jacket and pulled out 3 little bottles, containing a mate, green liquid. You had prepared one for each of the heros, now you’d only need two.

“Here, drink this!” You handed each of them one “Regeneration potion. Should put you back on your feet.” as soon as they finished drinking the brew, you could see color coming back to their faces

“Where’s Marinette’s akuma??” 

“Her necklace” replied Rena “It’s a gift from her kwami”

“Got it. You deal with Hawkmoth. I’ll bring Marinette back!”

Chat and Rena exited through the front door, grabbing Hawkmoth’s attention. He called out to Marinette to attack, but before she could take a single step in your direction, you had snuck up behind her. Using a simple invisibility spell, you managed to exit unnoticed behind the two heros. It finally felt like the fight had truly begun. From the corner of your eye you could see Chat and Rena doging Hawkmoth’s attacks while you, were doing your best to get your hands on the stupid necklace! Even though she couldn’t see you, Marinette seemed to almost always know what your next move was. She would expertly block all your attack and would keep you an arm’s length away at all times. Finally, you had enough and in one swift motion, you pinned her back to your chest, ripping the necklace away. A wave of black and purple took over the both of you and when it vanished, all you were left with was a half unconscious Marinette in your arms. You dropped her to the ground slowly as she was coming back to her senses. You wanted to talk to her but your thoughts were driven away as you heard Chat scream bloody murder.

On the opposite side of the platza, you saw Hawkmoth rip Chat’s ring off his finger, forcing him to detransform. The exhausted figure of Adrien Agreste fell to the ground with a thud. Hawkmoth had, indeed, gotten his hand on both the miraculouses.

[sirikenobi12]

War & the Jedi

This will be a long meta rant, FYI.

The Jedi Order, specifically the Prequel era Jedi Order, gets a lot of hate these days particularly regarding their involvement in the Clone Wars. Accusations are tossed at their feet constantly ranging from corruption all the way up to warmongering. 

Let’s first look at the Oxford English Dictionary definition of these two accusations, shall we?

Corruption - having or showing a willingness to act dishonestly in return for money or personal gain.

Warmonger - a person who encourages or advocates aggression towards other countries or groups.

The definitions of these two words are so very misunderstood when it comes to relation to the Jedi. If the Jedi are truly “corrupt” then where are the examples of their dishonesty for wealth or personal gain? In fact, I’d argue that canon (and Legends) makes a point to show us that it is the Sith who are in it for personal gain, not the Jedi. The Jedi have absolutely NOTHING to gain from this war on a personal level, in fact they are losing members in terrifying numbers.

The Jedi are also not advocating aggression towards the Separatists, in fact what we see instead is the Jedi DEFENDING against the Separatists. I have yet to see in either canon or legends an instance where the Republic forces invade a Separatist planet who doesn’t have an army or some military involvement (i.e. weapon factories). However, time after time we see the Separatists forcing peaceful planets who want nothing to do with them to either bow to their cause or die (i.e. Ryloth, Lurmen planet, Kiros, Mandalore) the Jedi and Republic Troops will then follow the Separatists to these planets, but they try to do what they can to liberate the planet from the Separaist invasion and then they give the planet the OPTION to join the Republic for safety and economic reasons, but they never force them, as is super evident with Mandalore.

Yet people don’t seem to see this and continue to drag the Jedi through the mud. 

Here are the top 5 other “woke” takes I hear - 

Jedi are peacekeepers and should not have gotten involved:

 First things first, let’s look at the definition of Peacekeeper - a soldier, military force, etc., deployed to maintain or restore peace. 

I’d argue by that definition the Jedi were still peacekeepers, it’s true that they weren’t a 3rd party as they normally were before the war, but their position was trying to maintain or restore peace. Peacekeeper is not the same thing as a Pacifist, the Jedi were skilled warriors (training from childhood to wield a lightsaber), the difference is Jedi used their skills for defense not attack which is what we constantly saw throughout the Clone Wars. 

With regards to the idea that Jedi “should not have gotten involved” I ask you then what exactly were they supposed to do instead?

 We see at the beginning of Attack of the Clones that the Jedi are worried things will escalate to war, they have obviously gone to the Chancellor hoping that a diplomatic solution can be presented to avoid bloodshed. Or if that isn’t possible then that the Republic have some way to defend themselves other than relying solely on the Jedi (i.e. an army). The Separatists are the ones pushing them to a breaking point, were the Jedi just supposed to stand back and let innocent people be invaded/killed because they didn’t want to get involved? The Jedi were “Guardians of Peace and Justice” which means it was their duty to help bring about peace in the galaxy while also enacting justice. 

Then after Geonosis (where they lost approx. 187 members mind you) they learned that the Sith are leading the Separatist army - the Jedi are duty bound by their code to fight the Sith, they had no choice but to join the war. 

So, I ask again...what were they supposed to do instead?

2.  Jedi used a slave army for their own purposes:

 Okay, I can (and probably will) write a whole argument based on just this accusation alone. There are so many fallacies I don’t even know where to begin but I’ll try. 

I guess my first question is the same as #1, what were the Jedi supposed to do instead with regards to the Clones? 

Technically speaking the Clones didn’t “belong” to the Jedi, they were “property” of the Republic (as stated by Lama Su in Attack of the Clones). In fact, the Jedi Council not only didn’t know about the order, they had vehemently denied Syfo Dias’ earlier request to raise an army in the first place. The Sith KNEW the Jedi would be against it, this was all part of their plan to trap the Jedi (as was EVERYTHING about the war) - they clouded the Force, they literally deleted Kamino from the Archives so the Jedi wouldn’t discover it until the Sith WANTED them to (i.e. Jango just happened to use a Kamino dart?? Come on people). Yoda even states “blind we are if creation of this clone army we could not see” he fully admits they missed it because the Dark Side was clouding their vision. 

Regardless, the army was created, there was no changing that fact. Had the Jedi not taken command of the army do you think the Clones wouldn’t have had to go to war? Do  you actually believe that the Republic who couldn’t get their citizens to give 2 craps about the war would’ve taken up the mantle and fought instead? Do you think if the Jedi were like “thanks, but we didn’t order this” that the Kamioans would’ve just let the Clones go free? 

The answer you’re looking for is...no. 

So, like absolutely everything about the Clone Wars the Jedi did the best they could with the cards they had been dealt. They chose to lead the army on the front lines, putting themselves in just as much mortal danger as the men they were leading. They even sent a member of the Jedi Council to oversee the creation of future clones/training to ensure they were being treated humanely (something the Kamioans thought was ridiculous). They were the first to tell the clones that they were individuals, they constantly put themselves in front of their men to protect them (i.e. season 7 Obi-Wan deflecting the rocket from blowing up his men). The Jedi did what they could, just because we didn’t see on screen Jedi stopping to grieve every time a clone died did not mean that they didn’t care - real life Generals can’t stop in the middle of a battle to grieve over their fallen soldiers either, so why is it we consider it a moral crime if the Jedi don’t?

Another thing I’ll add is once the Jedi had evidence that the Clones were actually ordered by Dooku, did they immediately stop and say “oh hell no, these flesh droids can’t be trusted, we should just have them decommissioned”?? NO! They defended the Clones, stating that they were good men and should be trusted (and look where that trust got them in the end).

The Jedi were forced/coerced to fight this war as much as the Clones were!! Why are we willing to forgive the Clones, but not the Jedi???

3. Ki-Adi-Mundi killing Geonosians was the same as Anakin’s slaughter at the Tusken camp: 

This is another moment where context is everything because there is a HUGE difference between Ki-Adi-Mundi on Geonosis and Anakin in the Tusken camp. The fact that I have to even spell it out makes me wonder how people can even dress themselves in the morning. 

The Geonosians were an opposing military force, attacking Ki-Adi and his troops. Anakin slaughtered unarmed women and children out of vengeance. 

Now, had Ki-Adi turned to his men and screamed “to the catacombs!” brandishing his lightsaber with a murderous glint in his eyes and proceeded to cut down the unarmed bugs below the battle then you’d have an accurate comparison on your hands and I’d be appalled right there with you.

But, as it stands this is not the same thing...not even close.

4. The Jedi sent children to war: 

So, this is a tougher one and I can even understand the concerns behind it, and I even share some of those concerns. The thing I will say to this is, given what we see throughout Star Wars, what constitutes a “child” seems to be different than our own real world definition. 

Padme, for example, was 14 when she was elected Queen, and she wasn’t even the youngest ever elected. She (and her handmaids) were trained as children to defend themselves and their people both politically and in battle (much like Jedi), but you don’t hear people condemning the people/traditions of Naboo the way we see the Jedi being condemned for theirs.

Jedi children arguably mature faster than your standard person, and with regards to Star Wars there are also species’ age ranges to keep in mind. Grogu for example is still a baby at age 50, could it be possible that Ahsoka at age 14 is on the same maturity level as a human in their early twenties due to her Togruta DNA?? We don’t know, it’s never stated other than Anakin saying something about because of her advanced skills he forgets how young she is. 

Obviously Boba Fett is treated like an adult by other Bounty Hunters - no one even questions when he picks up a job and is placed in charge of a group at age 12 or 13 (and he is placed in an adult prison without anyone questioning it). It could be that by law according to Star Wars that 13 is actually considered an adult. Throughout history (and in many different cultures) 13 was when people were considered to be “coming of age”, So, once again we’re placing our cultural biases onto a fictional space fantasy world without realizing it might not even be an issue in that world.  

But even beyond all of that I ask you again - what else should the Jedi have done? 

Their young Padawans would eventually have to grow into Jedi Knights, even before the war by the time they are teenagers they usually followed their Masters on missions (often very dangerous missions) in order to get real world experience. At the time of the Clone Wars the real world they were living in was one at war. If they hadn’t brought their Padawans onto the battlefield how else would they have learned how to strategize, or how to cope with the emotions of battle? They would’ve been ill prepared if the war had continued on for years and years as it had looked like it was going to do...once again, the Jedi had no real choice in this. 

5. The Jedi lost their way because of the war: 

Did they though?? I’d argue they actually didn’t. We first have to ask ourselves what is a Jedi - well, according to the very first time we hear any type of a description about a Jedi they are introduced as the “Guardians of Peace and Justice for the Republic” I don’t see how the war took that away from them. 

The Oxford definition of Guardian is a defender, protector, or keeper. I fail to see how the Jedi stopped being any of these things because of the war.

Here’s the bottom line, the Jedi’s biggest mistake was that they fell for a plot 1,000 years in the making. The Sith spent over a millenia perfecting/hatching this plan, there was nothing the Jedi could’ve done to prevent the war by the time the trap was sprung. As always, I’m not saying the Jedi were perfect (I hate that I have to always specify that when I argue that the Jedi were good), all I’m saying is they tried to do the most good that they could with the situation they fell into - few groups/characters can claim the same thing.

Everyone seems to forget that the Sith controlled BOTH SIDES to that war, there was nothing - absolutely NOTHING the Jedi could’ve done that would’ve changed or won that war. So, instead they saved as many innocent lives as they could and to me, that’s very Jedi. 

[delimeful]

hold my body down (2)

chapter 2 of this fic!

warnings: arguing, mild violence, cult mentions, mild gore mentions

-

Virgil stared at the man, his mind blank. What?

“That’s-- great?” Roman tried, his voice cracking in the middle with bewilderment. The human beamed, beckoning with his hand. Roman reached out and Virgil slapped his hand back, glowering at him.

“What have I said about accepting help from random friendly men?” he hissed, eyeing the stranger warily. Roman flushed, shoving him slightly, but notably didn’t try to move forward again.

The man-- Patton’s smile didn’t falter, but his hand dropped slightly. Virgil refused to feel bad. For once, he was completely sure that his level of paranoia was necessary for the situation.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Patton said, folding onto his knees to sit on the edge of the bag’s opening. “I can just explain from over here. I would come to sit in the bag with you, but last time I did that I got held hostage and Logan put a ban on interacting with terrified strangers without his direct supervision.”

“That, uh, seems rather fair,” Roman offered, still wildly out of his depth. Virgil rolled his eyes, a hand on the hilt of one of his daggers in case the stranger made any sudden moves.

“Who’s Logan?” He asked, eyes flickering up to what little he could see through the opening.

“Oh, he’s the one who rescued you!” Patton said cheerily. Virgil broke out into a cold sweat immediately.

“Rescued?” Roman echoed in disbelief. “Are you talking about the giant? Because I’m pretty sure he just abducted us against our will.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” Patton insisted, only confirming Virgil’s theory that he was probably brainwashed and/or had Stockholm syndrome. Or both. Or a variety of other, worse options, such as yet another cult member or another giant in disguise.

“Easy, Virgil.” Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Uh-- Patton, was it? If we’re not being… y’know… kidnapped and imprisoned, do you think you could back up so we can get out of the bag?”

“Of course!” Patton answered, popping back to his feet. “I’ll be right out here, take your time! I’m sure the last couple of hours have been rough.”

Virgil tried not to snort. Rough was one word for it. His amusement died a quick death when Roman began moving towards the opening. He latched onto the other man’s arm like a steel trap. “I don’t trust this.”

“You don’t trust anything,” Roman retorted automatically before softening. “It’s okay, I’m just checking to see what’s out there. Won’t even get out of the bag, on my honor.”

Virgil reluctantly followed him, grabbing onto him tightly as though he could keep anything out there from hurting him by yanking him back into the bag.

Roman ducked his head back under the cloth a moment later. “Okay. Bad news, there is absolutely a giant still out there. Good news, he’s all the way over across the room, reading a book. He is steadfastly ignoring both us and Patton, who waved at me.”

“What.” Virgil clutched at his hair. “What is going on?”

“I suspect we’ll have to ask Patton that. If we want answers, we’ll have to go get them,” He said, patting Virgil on the back encouragingly. “Don’t worry, my Dark and Stormy Knight, I’ll keep you safe.”

“My job,” Virgil grumbled, not releasing his grip on Roman’s wrist as he led the way out of the bag.

Everything was huge. He should have expected it, seeing as this was a giant’s home, but it still threw him off. They were on a huge table, in a huge living room, and the giant was indeed across the room with a huge book, pretending like they didn’t exist. From this distance, Virgil could actually take in all of him without feeling like he was going to pass out.

Patton was sitting a few feet away, and beamed at their approach. Virgil barely tore his eyes away from the giant long enough to nod distractedly at him. “Hi again! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re… fine,” Roman said, uncertain. “I think we’d just like to know what’s going on?”

“That’s totally understandable!” Patton replied, sympathetic. “I was pretty jittery after Logan first brought me here, too!”

“Oh, great,” Virgil muttered to Roman. “Serial kidnapper.”

Roman shot him a look before turning back to Patton. “He brought you here? Could I ask… why?”

“The same reason he brought you two here! I was in danger.” Patton glanced over to the giant with a fond smile before leaning in secretively. “To be honest, I think he was even more worried than I was! I was sort of stabbed at the time, though, so I guess that makes sense.”

“How were you ‘sort of stabbed’? You’re either stabbed or you’re not!” griped Virgil, who was possibly feeling more snappish than normal after one of the most stressful experiences of his life.

“My goodness, you were stabbed?” asked Roman, who had always been a sucker for a dramatic tale.

Patton tugged up the edge of his shirt, displaying a nasty-looking scar that curved around his side and stomach. In Virgil’s professional opinion, there was nothing ‘sort-of’ about a wound like that; it had been meant to kill. “Yeah, the people you met in town, they’re a cult! And they wanted to do a blood sacrifice for the monsters in the woods, and I wasn’t exactly well-liked, so…,”

“They stabbed you and left you for dead?” Virgil finished, a bit of anger leaking into his voice despite his determination not to sympathize with this guy.

“But I didn’t die!” Patton waved his hands a bit as though in celebration. “All the monsters in the woods had already been scared off when Logan moved here, and so he was the one who found me and helped me recover!”

Roman glanced over at the giant again, a speculative look in his eye that Virgil absolutely did not approve of. He scowled, his grip on Roman’s wrist tightening slightly.

“Right, and he just did this out of the goodness of his heart?” Virgil snorted dubiously. “I wouldn’t believe that from another human, let alone someone with a literally huge advantage over us. If your story is true, why didn’t the cult try to gut us? For that matter, if he’s not into human sacrifices, why wouldn’t your buddy over there just tell them to stop? Or, y’know, not kidnap us in the first place?”

“Well, hold on--,” Patton tried, but Virgil was on a roll.

“How do we know that this isn’t some elaborate setup? If he has the magical capabilities to heal a mortal wound, then wouldn’t it be easy for him to enchant a captive into believing that he’s just doing what’s best for him? Before, you said there were other people brought here-- what happened to them? Do you even know?”

Across the room, there was a sharp clap as the giant firmly snapped his book shut.

“They left,” Logan said firmly, the first words that they’d heard from him. “And if you continue to harangue my housemate, I will ask you to do the same.”

“Logan,” Patton said, a little exasperated.

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of those huge, dark eyes locked onto him, but he plastered his best snarl on even as he dragged a protesting Roman partially behind him. “We’d be glad to leave, but someone put us on a table ten times our height!”

“Virgil,” Roman tried, but Virgil didn’t have the luxury of not paying attention to the pissed off giant in front of them.

“There’s a staircase down to your left,” the giant informed him coldly, “so if you are intent on watching your companion die from organ combustion, you have my utmost permission to leave.”

Logan!” Patton chided, a lot exasperated. He turned back to them. “He doesn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

“Really?” Virgil snapped, crowding Roman back further. “Because it sure sounds like he just outright threatened to kill us if we leave.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose before rising easily from his chair and reminding them all just how big he truly was. “This is why I let Patton handle the talking. I don’t know why humans always insist on making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Virgil’s heart jumped into his throat as the giant approached, a thousand potential ways they were going to die flashing before his eyes. Behind his back, he flashed Roman a hand sign that meant ‘run for it’, and then released his friend’s wrist to draw one of his knives threateningly.

It was a pointless effort, but he’d known since setting out with his prince that one day he’d die for him.

Sure enough, the giant moved with that same uncanny speed he’d shown in the clearing, and simply grabbed Virgil’s forearm between his fingers as easily as one might scruff a cat, preventing any stabbing.

When Virgil immediately went to grab for another knife with his free hand, he found himself abruptly lifted and maneuvered, and couldn’t help letting out a startled yelp. The giant had essentially flipped him onto his front and settled one hand on his back as a weight, leaving him pinned and the giant firmly out of stabbing range.

More concerning was the fact that he could now see Roman, who hadn’t moved more than a few steps, and not just because he was a stupidly loyal, headstrong idiot. The prince seemed almost dazed, his skin shiny with sweat as he glanced between Virgil and Logan. Something was wrong. “Roman--!”

“You’re beginning to feel it, aren’t you?” Logan said, his cold tone thawing slightly as he looked down at Roman. “The cult of that town has only grown more... inventive with every cruel sacrifice they attempt. Rather than physical injuries, they’ve turned to blood curses, which has made my life exceedingly difficult.”

“Blood-- Blood curses?” Roman managed, looking more pallid by the moment.

The giant set a free hand down, palm up in offering. “I can reduce the effects. If you give me sufficient time, I can unravel the curse entirely, though brewing a countercurse will likely necessitate a drop of your blood.”

“Why go to the trouble?” Roman asked haltingly, meeting Virgil’s frantic gaze for only a moment. “What do you want in return?”

Logan sighed. “If you insist on applying such intentions to my actions, you can call it compensation. It is because of my presence that the cult continues to leave ‘offerings’, and thus your current state is my fault.”

“Then why not just do it?” Roman asked, staring at the offered hand with clear suspicion. Virgil was almost proud.

“Patton has gone to great lengths to teach me manners for interacting with smallfolk,” Logan replied dryly. “The first of which being ‘don’t grab.’”

There was a brief moment of silence as they all looked to Virgil, who was still pinned and sorely wishing he was in biting range of Logan’s hand.

“Manners don’t apply if someone is trying to stab me,” Logan added, a beat late.

Patton waved from where he was half-hidden behind Logan’s arm. “It’s true, my lessons did make an exception for stabbing!”

“Let him up,” Roman requested, his voice lacking its usual bravado. He still appeared concerningly ill. “He won’t stab you, right Virgil?”

Virgil grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath, before sighing and going limp. “All I want is to protect my prince. If you actually mean to help him, I won’t stab you.”

“Now that stabbing is off the table, I’ve gotta say, it’s knife to meet you,” Patton chimed in, his grin audible in his voice.

“Patton, please,” Logan groaned, lifting his hand off Virgil to instead massage his temples in exasperation. “You’re going to disturb our guests.”

“Aw, are you sure? I think my jokes are stabsolutely hilarious!”

Virgil ignored the ridiculous byplay between the two of them to scramble to his feet and hurry to Roman’s side, ignoring the way Logan moved his arm slightly to be between him and Patton. “Roman, are you okay?”

“Are you? You’re the one who just got gently tenderized by Bignoramus over there for the second time today,” Roman countered, matching Virgil’s whisper.

“Fine, stupid question, clearly neither of us are okay. Are we really doing this, though? We could still run.”

“I’m… not sure we can, actually.” Roman’s hand hovered over his chest, face drawn tight with pain. “They definitely did something to me, and I doubt either of us will figure out how to fix it or get aid in time. … Look. This may be my only option, but you don’t have to--”

“Can it, Princey,” Virgil cut in, dragging a hand through Roman’s hair roughly and ignoring his resulting squawk. “Where you go, I go.”

“Even there?” Roman asked, tilting his head toward Logan’s palm somberly.

Virgil looked over to Logan, watching the attentive way he was listening to Patton speak and contributing words of his own. The giant could have done away with any of them at any point, and he hadn’t. That wasn’t enough to really trust him, it could still all be part of some scheme, but... it had to count for something.

If it was the only thing that could help Roman, Virgil could push aside his fear and his anger.

“Even there,” he answered, and led the way onwards.

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[reidyoulikeabook]

B is for Blindfolds

Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).

Word count: 3k

A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!

This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.

The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.

“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.

She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.

On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.

“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.

“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.

She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.

At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.

Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.

Got to behave myself

I will behave myself

Will he be drinking?

That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.

“So, what can I get you?”

***

“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”

Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.

Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.

He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.

“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”

“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.

You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But!”

“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”

Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”

“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”

“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.

You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.

“Balance,” You whisper quietly.

He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.

It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.

It feels comfortable, familiar.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

***

After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.

Trust falls.

Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling. 

“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”

Oh

You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.

Probably reading too much into it

“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.

“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.

“Eidetic memory,” She replies.

There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.

“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”

Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.

“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.

He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”

You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”

“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”

“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”

“You’re betting?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.

“Something like that.”

He grins, “You’ll see.”

He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.

“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.

Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”

It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.

You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”

***

You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you��re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.

With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.

"Spencer!"

"Spencer?!"

Spencer.

You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.

“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”

His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.

The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.

“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.

“What?” You ask.

Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.

Oh.

Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.

He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.

“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.

Fuck.

“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.

Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.

Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.

Fuck.

What did he mean not like this?

***

After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.

You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.

It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.

“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.

“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”

“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.

“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”

***

The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.

You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.

He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”

“Yeah,” You say,

“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”

“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.

He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.

“But it’s different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”

You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.

“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”

You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”

“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.

“Even when you beat me.”

“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“

You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”

“We didn’t.”

"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”

“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.

“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”

“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”

“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”

He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”

“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”

“The song never clarifies that.”

“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”

“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”

He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.

Just wishful thinking

"Caramel,” He settles on.

"Caramel?”

“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”

"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.

You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”

He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”

“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”

“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”

You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”

“The 28th sounds good.”

It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.

“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.

“Me too.”

There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier.  Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.

Ask him what he meant by not like this

No

Ask him

“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.

“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.

His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.

Good job he takes the Metro.

"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.

If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.

“Have a good Christmas, _____.”

---

Next part: C is for Caramel

Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose

(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)

[marimagines]

Night Care | Levi X Reader

Between - Levi x Reader

Genre - Fluff, modern!au

Words - 3,990 [kinda short but its cute :] 

Summary - You give Levi the care he oh so is desperate for and the sleep that his body and mind demand for. along with that care, you finally get a chance to introduce him to a routine that he promises to follow.

Warnings - none [just a little teasing] and just cute Levi :[

A/n - I came up with this while doing my night time routine and I just had to write. It’s just Levi being a soft baby and I’m here for it :( I hope you all like itttt

It was finally one of those nights when you and Levi would spend time together. His immense amount of work would always keep him occupied even when he’d be home sometimes. It had always distracted him from life or he’d have to ignore many things. Levi was one loyal and devoted person in your eyes. To his work but also his loved ones. No matter how busy he’d be, he had always managed to make time to send you a text or call you and if neither of those seemed like the options, he’d send a voice note of him just talking while his mind and body would be busy with work.

You always appreciated his effort that he put so passionately in everything he did. So whenever you went out or whenever you see him, you made sure that he didn’t have to worry about making you upset with his busy schedule. Thankfully, you always managed to make him smile. Well, you didn’t really have to try, Levi was already so soft and in awe with your entire existence. Everything you did left an impact on him and sometimes he’d just sit back and smile to himself by remembering something about you. Like how you smile when you see him, or how you hug him or how you’d act cute or funny. It was just you. He was soft for you and you could sit silently and he would still feel his heart flutter at that sight.

Tonight, Levi finally checked out of work earlier. He had finished everything that was due today and even managed to finish certain tasks before the future deadlines. You greeted him with a smile and he just went for an embrace. His hands resting in your waist and his face buried in your neck. He groans out when you asked about his day and that was enough to know how exhausted he must’ve been.

“I should have a talk with Erwin to let you off the hook and lessen this mountain of work on you,” you say as you place the food on the table for him, a pout settled on your lips. Levi had only chuckled at your words, clearly knowing the sarcastic tone you speak in. It was cute though. He lowkey would want to see you telling off Erwin.

“That’s just how it is, honey,” he replies softly before picking up his utensils. His eyebrows furrow when you stop him but as soon as he sees that you were going to serve him the food, his expressions soften along with his heart. A smile stretches his lips and he whispers a thank you before you both begin to eat.

Throughout dinner, the two of you share details of your day today or you’d share a comfortable silence. Levi wasn’t one to talk much when he ate so you always made sure to divide the silence and talking to a 60-40 ratio. He probably wouldn’t want to talk so much especially after a long day. But that silence was also filled with sweet eye contact or sweet actions like adding more food to each other’s plates or feeding one another every now and then. Once dinner was done, you sort out the dishes and put away the leftovers along with a mini quarrel of an attempt to stop him from washing the dishes. His defense was that you had a long day yet you still cooked so the least he could do was clean it up for you. You both were neat freaks. Your hearts find peace when things are organized and well put together so whenever one of you offers to do a job of cleaning or organizing, you knew to fully trust each other at that. That’s just how it is and you both were content with it.

Levi was busy drying the plates and utensils while you decided to run a warm bath for the two of you. These nights were the most important nights for you two. The nights you just unwind from all the world and just bask in each other’s existence. Even if you don’t talk or end up napping together, just knowing the other is here and near was more than enough to be grateful for these nights. Some nights you’d end up fucking or making love, some nights you’d take a stroll outside and enjoy the scenery and breeze and some nights... you’d both prefer to spend it in the expanse of your apartment. You anticipated these nights the most. Being able to take care of Levi was something you practically live for.

The sound of the faucet opening pops you back into reality and you smile at Levi who was staring at you with a certain glow in his eyes and his toothbrush in his mouth. As he proceeded to cleanse his face with his face wash, you turned off the faucet of the bathtub and move to take off your clothes. You could just feel Levi’s eyes on you as he was rubbing the product unto his smooth face.

Since you were done with your brushing and cleansing already, you slowly lower yourself into the warm bathtub which was now starting to feel and smell heavenly due to the bath salts and a new product you had purchased a few days back. One of your way of escaping the struggles of life was to go shopping not for clothes or shoes, but for things like candles or mists or body care such as shower gels or bath products. Anything that brought you a sense of tranquility in your soul. And whenever you found something you loved, you’d share it with Levi and sometimes even consider adding it to a treatment or package in your beauty salon. Working in the same place as Levi was always fun but your passion and goal had always been to open up your own makeup studio or a beauty salon and thankfully with Levi’s ultimate support and help, you managed to succeed in that goal of yours. Hence why Levi always trusted you whenever you brought him a product for him to wear though he could never keep a certain routine and only stuck to one moisturizer. Regardless, you were amazing at it. You excelled at it and that’s why you are where you are right now. He was proud of you.

Once Levi was done with stripping himself of his clothing too, he carefully joins you in the bathtub that you somehow made it feel so magical. He lets out a relaxed groan as he dips into the water and you giggle at him from behind.

“Don’t you want me behind?” He asks as he was usually the one who’d be behind but tonight you were the one who was leaning against the curve of the rose gold marble bathtub. Your entire apartment was a mixture of soothing colors of black, grey, white and rose gold. By researching and constantly trying to help your husband with his stress, you decided the house to be as minimalistic and sleek as possible. Too much clutter might make him feel suffocated. And due to your researches together, the two of you agreed to the beautifully neutral and minimalistic designed apartment you have right now.

“No,” you reply softly as your palms rest on his shoulders, carefully massaging them. “Tonight is about taking care of you, Mr. Ackerman.” You whisper and leave a kiss on his shoulder and neck. He lets out another groan at the feeling of comfort and leans towards your touch.

Your hands were caressing his body as far as your arms could reach while massaging him and helping him relax. He was quiet for the most part and you didn’t mind that either. Your baths together were sometimes silent like today’s. Levi was the one who would usually be washing you or caressing your body but today you figured it’s time he receives too. He leans back to rest his head between your breasts, and closes his eyes while your hand was teasing his member. He gasps silently when your fingers wrap around his tip and your hand moves up and down but neither of you had any sort of energy to fuck each other tonight and you both knew that. You pause the teasing when he holds your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. He simpers silently, a look of cockiness on his face and starts to speak.

“You’re so tiny,” he remarks softly.

“I’m almost the same height as you,” you retaliate at his words, the audacity this man had to say that to you while he was on the smaller scale too.

“Still taller than you, honey.” He boasts.

“By an inch or two.”

“Tch,” he finally lets out his defeat remark.

“Tch,” you decide to mimic him.

“Tch.”

“Tch.”

“Tch,” he says as a grin dares to paint his face and you feel it.

“Tch,” you giggle out too. Your expression softens when he kisses your hand, the foam transferring from your hands to his face. You giggle once again and move your hands to wipe away the foam quickly before they enter his mouth.

“This smells good, is it new?” He hums out and inhales loudly, trapping the scent inside his nose. It really did smell nice.

“Yep, I got it recently. It’s from BBW’s aromatherapy line. It’s supposed to help you sleep,” you explain softly while Levi was silently gathering the foam in front of him and watching it. You end up smiling at his cute behavior and then it hits you. Does he really notice all these tiny things you do? “I didn’t think you’d notice this.” You whisper.

“What? I do. You enjoy these things and it brings you joy. Of course I’d notice,” he points out. “You leaving our work to achieve your goal was one of the best decision of your life. I saw your energy change. Seeing how this new work of yours makes you happy and express yourself makes me happy.” He adds as his hands play with yours. He was usually short and blunt with words but he could go on forever if it was you he had to compliment or talk to. That’s just how he felt, he trusted you and felt comfortable with you. You sit silently with a pout and kiss the back of his head.

“I love you,” you express yourself, resting your head on his whole happiness fills your heart. Though these three words weren’t enough to describe the fuzzy and warm feeling he manages to leave your soul with.

Once the two of you were done with the bath, you slip into your comfy night clothes; yours a short baby pink satin nightdress that stopped mid thigh and Levi decided to wear his dark grey sweats with his loose white top. You loved him in that outfit; he always looked so welcoming in it.

The two of you did a lot of things in sync but one thing was almost never in sync... your nighttime routine. You always took your time to apply the products on your face and body before you decide to sink into bed and today was no different. You sit on your long two-seater ottoman which you placed in front of your vanity. Even your vanity was organized. One side was dedicated to Levi; which had his body cream, his perfumes, his moisturizer. That was pretty much it but tonight there were some new products there. When you were out buying and looking at skincare products, you figured your husband should need to start his routine properly and picked up some new products to keep him feeling fresh and protected from sunlight, aging, and just keeping him glowing and looking fresh. You look up to see Levi from the mirror’s reflection, plopping down on the bed, his legs hanging from the edge as he grabs his phone to scroll through it. You were silently hoping this new bath foam you got would work and he’d get some sleep. Levi always had trouble sleeping and you were constantly trying this and that to make sure he got more than 2 hours of sleep. With the look of his eyes and eyebags, you knew he was desperate for sleep but he just didn’t know how to lure himself into that state.

“Oh,” he suddenly says and you look back at him through the mirror reflection. He was sitting up now and looking at you. “Erwin gave us a day off tomorrow.” He announces.

“Well, isn’t that nice.” You smile at him as your hands were busy working their routine of applying products on your face and body; knowing exactly what to do. You never skipped your night routine and your hands simply knew by now what to do even when your mind didn’t.

Your eyes were planted on Levi; you just wanted him to come and do his routine but you didn’t want to bother your weary husband. Before you could even say or do anything, Levi gets up from the bed and walks towards you to join you on the bench; as if he heard the thought in your mind. His eyes centered on the new addition on his side and you suddenly realize what he was wondering. A smile creeps on your face when you notice the curiosity in his eyes, like a child who had entered a toy store or a bird who just left its nest and had the entire world to explore. The little glow in his eyes contrasted the furrow of his brows clearly indicated that this man right here was confused to what each of these did. Sure you had told him before but you knew he’d need more than just one push hence why you never stopped bringing him skincare along with yours. Tonight it seemed like the night you could educate him and use your expertise to convince him why he needs to listen to you.

“It’s for you. All of it,” you clarify and a nod comes from him. You chuckle at Levi when he pops open a moisturizer and moves to sniff at it.

“It smells nice,” he adds. “But I just need moisturizer, babe. You didn’t have to get all,” his hand proceeds to make a circle on top of the dresser as he continues, “this.”

“Yes I did,” you defend yourself. “We are turning old. We should take extra care of yourselves, don’t you think?” You get up and move to stand between Levi’s legs to which he automatically spreads them open to give you space. He looks up at you with eyes observing you. You lean against the vanity, your hands wrapping around Levi’s neck. “I will take care of you, Mr Ackerman, so you can get a tip or two.” You say nonchalantly with a smile. Levi ends up chuckling too since he knew your tone was the same tone you use at work. You grab a fluffy hair band that had bear ears on top and move to put it on Levi; pushing his hair back and revealing his flawless skin. Levi sat there glaring at you but you knew from the glow in his eyes that he could care less about it. You start with the routine as you grab a cotton pad and open up the toner bottle. “First of all, you need to apply a toner to bring back the moisture you lost from washing your face.” You explain as you bend over and come closer to his face while your hand moves to pat his face softly with the cotton. Levi’s eyes were on you the entire time you spoke; you didn’t even know if he was shy or if he was listening or why he was even staring but the entire time, his eyes never left your figure or movements. Never missed the product you used or the way his eyes would fall to your lips as you speak. It was almost as if his eyes were stuck on you. You still continue the routine, explaining each step as you go on, giving him tips he should know like to not rub in products aggressively but to pat them in more, or how he should apply them in an upward direction and avoid the downward direction, and you continuously remind him why each product is important. Levi listened intently and carefully, he knew that you knew what you were talking about but he was more in awe with how powerful you looked being in your element. “And lastly,” you twirl open the cap of a night cream. “The night cream.” You apply the cream onto your ring finger and gently apply it on his cheeks, his chin, forehead and then you grin as you put it on his nose, making a ‘boop’ sound, which causes you to earn a smile from him too. He was sitting there quietly the entire time you almost felt like he was a customer at your salon or like a little child, carefully trying their best to focus on your words or in awe with the knowledge you had. You rub and pat in the product and step back when he clears his throat, signaling that he wants to speak.

“How do I know what cream to put at night?” Your lips stretch into another smile as you hear how genuine curiosity wrapped around his tone. He was too cute tonight.

“It says it on the package, dear.” You point at the two creams behind you and move away slightly to let him see it. His eyes finally move away from you and land on the vanity as he silently nods in understanding like a student finally understanding a math problem. You give his face one final pat before you stand up straight and politely grin at him. “And we’re done,” you start to move away before he grabs your hands and kisses them.

“Thank you,” he says as his thumb gently draws circles on top of your hands. “Do you have coupons?” Your eyebrows furrow at his odd and random question and he elaborates more as he realizes that must’ve confused you. “I want to give it to the kids... Connie, Jean, Eren... you know. The kids.” He stumbles on his words when he notices the smile your face had. He was flustered because he knew that you know how soft he is for his team.

You nod silently and giggle. “Yes Levi, I do have coupons. Make sure you give it to the girls too.” You tease him, emphasizing on the word ‘girls’, as you sit down next to him and go through your drawer to look for the coupons. Levi looks from behind you too but then indulges at his new glowy skin as he pats his cheeks the way you had earlier. He suddenly feels proud of you again and a smirk paints his face as his eyes twinkle at the sight that is you. He notices you hadn’t brushed your hair yet so he gets up to stand behind you and pulls you back to make you sit up straight. Your eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror and before you could ask what he was doing, he beats you to it.

“You didn’t braid your hair. I’ll do it for you,” he leans forward to grab your hair brush and softly brushes your hair back and starts braiding it.

“The coupons are in this drawer. Take as many as you like,” you tell him after a while. He nods at your words.

“Will you do this every night?” He asks with a child like tone that wraps your heart with warmth. How could you even say no to him.

“Do what?” You tease him.

“This, my routine.” You knew he was flustered when he starts using small words.

“No,” you watch his lips quickly drop to a pout and a laughter breaks from your lips. “You have to do it too, Levi. We’ll do it side by side so you know the steps.”

“What if I use coupons?” Another laughter bursts out from your chest at how he tried to get this victory. You were pleased to know he liked it though.

“How about this, I’ll do your night routine for you three times a week,” you suggest as your hand raises three fingers and you wait for a response from him.

“Four.” He demands and attempts to negotiate.

“Three.”

“Four. I only use one coupon per week. You do it three times weekly and fourth would be if I use coupon.” He adds a new deal.

Feeling satisfied with the deal, you nod. “Deal.”

Once you were done with the time of sitting in front of the vanity, you both walk back to the bed but then you remember one last step. Body lotion. You bring the bottle to him and earn a “Tch” from him but he applies it regardless by watching you do it. Levi moves his hand to open up your braid too. It was something you always did, you didn’t sleep with your hair tied but you braid it before sleeping only to open it up after a few minutes. It helped your hair not to go crazy when you lay down. It melts your heart knowing how Levi knew even the smallest details of your routine and noticed things you didn’t think he would. You two share a loving smile as you continue to apply lotion together and joke around or tease each other a little. 

“Make sure to take care of your neck too, baby.” You remind him and you both work in sync in rubbing in the lotion onto your arms, chest, legs and neck. You apply your lip balm as usual and Levi shares it with you as you both move closer to perch in the middle of the bed. You two always shared your lip balm for some reason and you never complained nor minded it. To Levi, it made his heart fill up with love sharing your lip balm with you, patting his lips with the surface your lips had grazed over always made him go crazy inside. His excuse to why he did that was that he was too lazy to buy one or open a new one... even after he had confessed to it, he still rarely admitted every time you or someone else teased him about it.

After a while, your bodies were tangled with each other as you lay your head on his chest silently, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and basking in the scent of chamomile that you both bathed in and lotioned your bodies with. The scent bringing about a feeling of calm and sleep which was slowly creeping its way up on both of you. You knew the new aromatherapy you brought was working when you realize how sleepy Levi was getting too. He swiftly changes position as he lays on his side, his arms wrapped around your waist as you both move to the embracing position. He pulls you closer, burying his face on your chest right on top of your breast and under your neck and chin as he sharply inhales and relaxes afterwards. He always seemed to love doing that, especially when he was really exhausted or needed to sleep. You could feel the way his breathing was getting stable and the more you played with his hair and gently scratched his undercut, the more he got pulled into sleep. It was like a spell.

“Goodnight,” he mumbles against your skin after a while and pecks your open skin, pulling you even closer towards him.

“Goodnight baby... it’s time you sleep.” You kiss the top of his head as you both slowly fall into deep sleep together.

[amorevolousfaith]

Chapter 10: Battle

Pairing: Din (Mando) Djarin X Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE!)

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Cannon violence, decapitation, adult language, mentions of kidnapping, Proselytism, Chaotic energy, lots of sexual tension, smut, sexism, consumption of alcohol, talks of polyamory, talks of drugging, fucked traditions, allusions to smut.

Summary: You and the Mandalorian have a complicated history and your future just seems to get more complicated as you go along. No thanks to the strange alien baby you both ended up co-parenting.

The next morning when The child, Din, and I are all awake still silently brainstorming solutions. Cara pops her head through the door, “Everyone is gathered.” she announces, “This should be good.” I sigh while walking out with Mando. I cross my arms and stand off to the side as Din takes the lead. “Bad news, you can’t live here anymore.” He announces, “Dibu e Debu.” I scoff rolling my eyes. “Nice bedside manners.” Cara mutters, “Think you can do better?” Din grunts, “Well she can’t do much worse.” I quip. Din then takes a step back and makes room for Cara in front of the village, “I know this isn’t the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.” Cara explains. “But you took the job,” One of the men chides, “Yes, on the account none of us knew about the armored walker, something YOU so conveniently failed to mention.” I state coldly. The crowd gets into an up rawer and I press a hand to my head, “We have nowhere to go,” Omera cuts in, “Sure you do, this is a big planet. I mean I’ve seen a lot smaller.” Cara argues.

“My grandfather seeded these ponds! It took generations!” A man calls out, “I understand but there is only three of us.” Cara explains. I hum in thought, thinking over the math of this, I’m not exactly sure how many raiders there are, maybe it would be possible, but the walker still poses a very large problem. “No there's not, there’s at least twenty of us!” Another calls out, now there's an idea, I look over to Mando and clear my throat quietly. He looks over and I nod my head in their direction before shrugging my shoulders, Mando doesn’t move and I assume he’s thinking it over like I had. I vaguely listen to Cara continue to bicker with the villagers, but I keep my eyes on Mando who gives me a nod. “You cannot fight that thing!” Cara chides, “Unless, we show them how.” I chime in.

Cara looks over at me and I simply shrug, “I’m not just a babysitter you know.” I smirk. “Come on, Mando where did you set the weapons?” I question, Din kicks off the wall and starts to take the lead, “Anyone willing to fight, follow us.” I chime trailing behind Mando. Din takes us to the front of the village where our few crates of weapons sit from where they were pulled off from the cart when we first arrived. “Now as far as I’m aware we have two problems. The raiders and walker, machines aren’t really my forte, so I’ll volunteer to help lead the attack on the raiders. I assume you and miss Dune will handle the machine?” I question the two. Both Cara and Din nod their head, “Great, that means our job,” I pause to motion to the people, “Is to protect them while they handle it. I’m sure you're all keenly aware how dangerous they are. Miss Dune is a veteran, and I am an experienced fighter. We’re going to teach you how to fight and lay out a ground plan, please listen to us carefully, I’m sure I don’t have to warn you what could happen if you don’t and the plan goes sideways,” I explain sternly.

“There’s nothing on this planet that can damage the legs on that thing,” Cara informs, “Which means we’re building a trap.” I continue. “We’re going to dig real deep right here.” Cara explains pointing to the ponds behind us, “so that when it steps in,” I quip, “It drops.” Cara finishes. “And that’s where we come in.” I chime, “While Miss Dune and Mando deal with it we are going to hold down the fort.” I hum.

“Mando and Miss Dune are going to provoke them out of their camp and bring them to us, we need to be ready. We’re going to need a barricade along these edges,” I inform pointing to the edge of the village. “It needs to be high enough that they can’t get over and strong enough that they can’t get through. This will give us an opportunity to take them out, given that you're not experienced fighters and we want to avoid as much damage as possible. We are going to focus on long range attacks.” I explain. “So, who knows how to shoot?” Mando steps in, the people shuffle awkwardly, as Omera is the only one to raise her hand, “And uh, can anyone throw? Like maybe an axe?” I question, only one man raised his hand. Great looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.

I look at the stack of axes and take one in my hand testing its weight before looking at the line of people. Most of them the woodcutters of the village. “You,” I point to the only man who raised his hand, “Show me how you throw.” I ordered. The man takes an ax from the pile, he takes a remarkably steady position before twisting his arm back and throwing the axe. It lands on the target not in the middle but I’m not looking for perfection. “That's good,” I nod, “Everyone else take note of his form, it’s important, a steady form will give you more force and a steady throw. I’m not expecting any of you to make a killing blow, what I will expect is that you at least wound them when you throw that axe.” I instruct.

I pull one of my blades from my sheath and flip it over to grip it by the blade. “When you get ready to throw your weapon. Do. Not. Hesitate. You won’t be able to throw a straight shot and you may end up hurting yourself, always follow through. Extend your arm all the way out.” I explain, throwing my blade and it lands in the perfect center of the target. “Show me your form.” I demand, the line of people instantly take their form, I walk down the line adjusting feet as I walk, “And relax.” I command. The people stand straight again, “Now position.” I call, all of them falling back into form. There are less mistakes this time, good. By the time everyone is ready to throw their axe, they need very little instruction, their forms are a natural guide to the throwing, the most they need at this point is a little bit of aiming practice.

While my people throw their axes I glance over to Din’s group, letting a low impressed whistle as Omera fires off a dozen shots damn near perfectly. Din’s head turns to me and I give him a firm nod before turning back to my group. “(Y/N)!” He yells, I turn back only to see a red blaze flying right at me, I draw my blade just in time to block it but it still grazes my arm. The villagers gasp as I let out a grunt, “I think you need a new teacher if this is how Mando is teaching.” I joke, the villagers seem to relax when I seem okay. But Din is smarter than that, he strides his way over and gently takes my arm, “You're not fighting.” He demands. I felt a spark of anger in my chest, “Bold of you to assume I’ll listen to you.” I mumble darkly. “You can watch over the kids, make sure they’re safe.” He offers, “If I wanted to be a fucking housewife Mando I would have stayed on my home planet.” I hiss, jerking away and marching to the barn to patch myself up.

By the time Mando and Cara are ready to start the plan my arm is patched and I make sure to avoid Din so he doesn’t make an attempt to convince me not to fight. I lick my lips watching Din and Omera talk softly, a shame he’s not fumbling over his words anymore, it was fun while it lasted. Cara seemed to interrupt them when she came to collect him, wordlessly I watched them make their way over to me. I feel Mando’s eyes on me, despite the fact I can’t see past the helmet. Mando stops walking when they make it to me, looking at me expectantly, I let out a sigh and tilt my head to the side. “Come back alive alright Mando.” I smirk, “Always.” He mumbles, I quirk my eyebrow at him as I notice him quoting me. I don’t get a chance to speak on it as he and Cara start off into the woods.

The sun soon goes down and darkness blankets over the sky, it wasn’t long before I hear an explosion go off and gun fire. “Doesn’t take long for you Mando does it?” I mumble to myself, just as the words left my mouth the armored man comes running out of the woods with Cara on his tail. I keep low as the thumping of the armored walker gets louder and louder. I glare at the ugly thing when it finally comes into sight, anticipation building with every step it takes, “Didu e Debu.” I grunt when it doesn’t take that last step. “Get down!” I hiss to the people around me when a flood light comes on, the people closest listen but two of the men are caught in the light before they can duck down. “Don’t. Move.” I call to them slowly, “Hold your positions!” Cara calls out. However, at her cue the raiders shout their own, I glare through the darkness seeing running shadows charging to us. “At the ready!” I call, “Open fire!” Cara announces.

Just like that the battle started, blasts of red are unleashed as the raiders charge closer to us. “Why isn’t that thing moving!” I growl dodging fire, “We need a new plan!” I call over to Cara and Mando. “I got one!” Cara calls back, I watch as Mando hands her a new weapon. “Then let's go!” I demand getting to my feet, “What the hell are you doing?” Mando snaps, “Being useful.” I hiss before standing. “Come on, I’ll make the way,” I order to Cara, she doesn’t question me as I draw my blades. I spin my blades, testing the weight before charging in, I slice one raider down as he comes at us, before blocking two shots. Cara dives for one of the ponds as I launch myself at another raider, sinking my blades through his armor. Pulling myself up I hiss when I feel something slice into me, I don’t think twice before twisting my blade back and stabbing. I turn my head to look at the raider, scoffing at the sight of the ugly Katoonian gasping from the blade I sunk into his lung.

I go deaf to the gun fire and yells, focusing on sinking my blades into anyone who comes at me, desperate to ignore the throbbing in my side. I swallow thickly as I thrust my blades into yet another raider, as he sinks to the ground as the armorer walker collabs into the pond a few feet away. My eyes go wide as it still fires off one of its guns, I trudge forward swinging my blades down onto the medal, my Beskar steel being stronger cuts the gun off. “Get down!” A modulated voice calls, I don’t get to react when I’m taken by my waist and pushed into a pond. Just as we hit the water the walker blows spewing fire and loose metal.

At the sight of the walker in flames, what's left of the raiders run back into the woods, leaving the village cheering in victory. “Was that the plan?” Mando questions, there’s a beat of silence used to catch our breath, “Something like that.” Cara laughs. “I didn’t expect the water to be this warm,” Cara mumbles, “Oh. That's my fault.” I muse a tad lucidly. “What the hell (y/n)!” Mando chides, “I didn’t take you for the pissing when scared type.” Cara snorts. “It’s not piss.” I hum, “I’m bleeding out.” I quip. I can vaguely see Cara’s eyes go wide. “Osik!” Din curses, a laugh rips from my throat despite the fact it hurts. “I broke my record though!” I cheer delusionaly, “Record of what? Being a moron?” Cara scoffs holding me up as Din climbs out of the water, “Something like that.” I mock as she lifts me up and into Din’s waiting arms. “Don’t be a smartass when you're dying.” Din grunts, “I’m not dying. It ain’t that deep.” I snort, “Uh huh,” he scoffs.

<---- Prev // Masterlist // Next ---->

[starshipsofstarlord]

the age old divine

hela x hecate!reader x agatha harkness / masterlist

summary; the mass of murdered witches draws your attention, shooting down to earth to speculate the scene. two goddesses, and a outcast witch, need i say more? / warnings; death, smut, threesome, biting, blood, threatening, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting

“dead, dead, dead.” the goddess of death herself spoke, as she traipsed through the loitering of witch carcasses. despite her words, her dark eyes showed anything but pity, rather what was bestowed upon her power endorsing pools was amusement. the scene was quite satisfying to her, it was a certainty that she would not be one to complain about the number of bodies.

“say it with a little less stride in your tone, these are my children. they were gifted magic by my hand, and now all that reprise has gone to waste.” you bit verbally at the daughter of odin, looking respectfully down upon the slaughtered. “only one of their own coven could have strung them to her heart so enthrallingly, we have to find the witch.”

“isn’t all this hocus pocus your jurisdiction? there is no we when it comes to reprimanding the order of this nature.” hela responded, brushing her hair back into its tarantula alike webbing. “hurry now, so we can carry on with our reckoning of the realms, earth is rather dirtying my feet with distaste for the humans that loiter pathetically on this planet.”

“oh hush, just because you are your daddy’s number one executioner does not mean that structured by your thoughts, that life is a waste. mortals may not be gifted with long life, nor the representation of elaborate thinking, however there is some beauty to their weak race.” a rustle in the bushes had you snapping your head to the side, focalising on the greenery as a nervous shake prompted the arms.

“there is no beauty to avid weakness.” hela noticed the listener’s location too, though she continued to speak as though it were a regular conversation at one of asgard’s infamous banquets. “nor hiding from those that reign higher in a seam of nature. come out little witch, and show us that digressed face of yours.”

“hela.” thoughtlessly elbowing the executioner, your thoughts drifted to her borderline mistake. the witch could attempt to escape after her whereabouts being called out, though perhaps you should have had more faith in the face of death, for a ragged haired, young woman approached from her hiding spot, seemingly worried for her own safety.

her eyes drifted over the various bodies that she had cast from life, and then they landed on you. instantly she recognised the description that your form visibly upheld, she had heard various tales and stories about you as a child, the mother of the witches.

“agatha harkness.” you knew her name, inside she panicked, it felt as though she were to be punished for her sins. but with one flick of your enchanted wrist, the evidence of her reprisal disappeared, her mother’s corpse turning into nothing more than a wisp drifting through the air. “i suppose it is you that had vanquished your family, may i, the sorceress over all, get an answer to why?”

agatha fumbled her shoulders for a second, as she thought of the best response that she could possibly bestow. she couldn’t say that she had seen the darkhold, nor disobeyed the ways of her coven, that would only make her appear as the villain. “well, are you going to tell me, or am i going to have to take a peak in that chaotic mind of yours?” your tone was harsh, as your demanding eyes bore into her.

from beside you, hela tutted, as she nonchalantly picked at her nails. “aren’t you the one always telling me to have patience?” out of all times, this was when the goddess had to intervene, it seemed as though she herself had no patience to sit there and allow you to carry on. after all, as she had spoken, this was your area, not hers.

“shut it.” the demand provoked the woman that lurched death upon her victims, she was fast to swoon forwards and cast her tough hand upon your jaw. her impending pupils glazed over, washing over with dominance, as her spare hand reached out, shaking her pointer finger at agatha, whom had tried to creep away from the debacle scene.

“not so fast little witch, i want to show you how weak and vulnerable your deity is in my hands. one snap and i could break this pretty neck of hers; and that would be such a shame.” hela hissed, sinking her teeth into your chin, hard enough to cause a puncture mark to render your flesh, with your crimson humanity lightly escaping from the small wound.

the goddess of death threw you upon the ground, as you turned and glared at the witch, who remained frozen at the play that was rolling out before her eyes. hela sunk onto her knees, grasping the crooks of your ankles to pull you closer, straddling you to permit no option of escape.

“i thought that you were smart enough not to talk back to me y/n, but it appears that i, like the ways of my forefathers, was wrong. did all those lessons i introduce you to amount to nothing?” her porcelain hands tore at your white robe, exposing your nudity to the crisp air, that sent ripples of bumps along your immortal skin. “i will bend and break you until you understand. i will rip everything away from you, until you see that your whimsical tricks are nothing in compared to what i am able to do.”

a whine escaped your lips, and agatha’s eyes widened. she shouldn’t be witnessing this, much less standing by as her legendary, tale told idol fumbled beneath a mass of dark seduction, braced to be as barren of clothing as you were the day that you had been birthed as a symbolic presence within the universe.

“get off of me, otherwise i shall inform the hellish mould of the devil’s crown how to defeat you; you and i both know that ragnarok will have you splitting in half like a fallen icicle.” the threat, albeit honest, was half empty, like a cauldron with the incorrect ingredients. hela could only smirk at the predicament that you had adjourned into the compass of.

her suspicious hand slithered down your body like an albino serpent, cradling the mound of your inherited artefact, rubbing her murderous thumb upon your rose, toying cantankerously with the petals, pricking at them like established thorns, drawing a spike in your breath. agatha rubbed her thighs together, trapping her full bottom lip between the jailhouse of her teeth, lightly gnawing upon her own flesh.

“get off of you, or get you off into a climactic example of true ecstasy, that is not accompanied by vengeful curses, nor midnight felines that bring the warning of arising karma?” she asked teasingly, shaking her deviant head as you thrusted your hip against her hand, rubbing the length of your treasure chest upon her thrilling palm.

“don’t be stereotypical hela, otherwise i will make sure you see some entrapment of your own fears; you and i both know that i am well equipped to take a guess at what they are.” hela prowled her top lip up in the stance of a silent snare, quickly disconcerting her attention away from you in your appeasing pose, as she beckoned the bushy haired witness over, grinning contently when the witch silently complied.

“i suppose you’ve never thought that the night would come where you would see your historical figure writhing under the affections of death. touch her, fulfil the one legacy that you bestow upon your enchanted selves, and serve her.” the woman cloaked in a skin of thin armour spoke, glaring frighteningly up at the witch, with a primal infrastructure edging the outside of her feral orbs.

“i, i, what do i do?” agatha wanted to be certain that the thoughts that ceremoniously rushed to her mind. if she were to worship your body with the passion that she had refrained from sharing with any of her coven, then she wanted to be certain that she knew the extents that she was allowed to perform to. a forbade groan sheathed like a revealed dagger from your mouth, as you located your neck in an alternate position so that you could look at your kin.

“eat my cunt harkness, now, before i decide to punish you for your treacherous sins.” within a minute, she scrambled upon the dirt, clawing her way so that she was met with an inspector’s sight. hela untangled herself from her masterful clothing, basking her body in nudity, as she climbed upon her face, sitting on it as you eagerly began to swipe your tongue through her folds, sucking earnestly at her clit.

agatha found that to be her moment, she craned her head down, swiping her fingers through your self accumulated slick, watching with a transparent gaze as your essence coated the pads of her skin. she delved her face closer, inhaling the immoral scent that radiated from your most intimate parts, tracing your lips with her explorative tongue. the witch hummed, as though she had succeeded at a spell, gasping herself as she felt your hand comb down and pull at her messy locks.

hela ground against your face, half suffocating you, just the way that she liked it. you moaned into her pulsating flesh, inserting your primitive tongue inside her, roaming around the dark caves that staved many secrets, feeling how each one perfectly moulded her soul, and made her into the dependant warrior that she was. it was unarguable, she was a difficult person to get along with, but you could feel the impact that her younger years had shaped her; she had been taught to be this version of death.

but ironically, there was much life in her as she made huffs that she often saved for the episodic scenery of the battlefield, huffing her perky chest out as she felt valhalla erupt in her abdomen, urging her to sink onto your tongue, and use you for her own advantage. agatha was admittedly not doing as bad of a job as you had inwardly predicted, she was eager to please, specifically more so, since it were you, hecate that she was intimately tending to.

you moaned up into hela, lurching your bottom half down and further unto agatha’s in inquisitive face, sending ripples of sound up through the raven haired woman’s sly body, stringing more leverage over her, in more ways than one. a shout bellowed from your chest, as you felt tendrils of aura surround the interior of your stomach, poking it to no end, sending you closer to the edge. witches, you’d show this one in particular.

harkness squealed as she felt a heat penetrate her entire being. she was a witch, you were a deity, that was perception enough that there was a range of power between the two of yours abilities. “hecate.” it was the name that her ancestors had taught her, and thus, the woman used it, trying to mush her not so innocent face back into your pussy in attempts to shut her own self up.

it felt as though the bifrost was soaring through her, sending her to another land; hela came onto your face, mumbling incoherent, presumably dominant, words to herself as you used your oral appendage to help clean her up. “by the dead, are you good at that.” it was far from the first time that she had told you that. agatha was on the route to her second orgasm, the bliss that you intuitively blessed her with had rendered her to a first.

she however continued to bring you to the overall whits of your sexual expression, introducing her fingers into your nest, watching euphorically as they entered you, and sunk delightfully through your folds, being swallowed into the spongey abyss. hela dismounted from your face, tracking over to position herself from behind agatha, turning up the ends of her skirt, throwing the supporting material over her ass, grabbing the cheeks as she pressed a bite into one globe.

the goddess sunk her face into the subsequent area that had been indulged in privacy for far too long, stroking up the ways of agatha’s slick cunt, nibbling upon her clit as the maleficent light you bestowed continued working inside of her. shaking your head, a finish line was installed as you raced towards it, surpassing the line as you pushed the simple witch’s face closer to your heat, coating her lips with your personal gold, forcing the pressure within her to explode.

her body shook as a violent flurry, which was surely anything natural, reckoned her body. juices spurted out behind her, coating hela’s torturous tongue as she pulled away, silently comparing her taste to your own. once more, in an instant, hela was robed once more, as she steadied your knees, pulling you up to your trembling feet. “now that is what i would call a divine intervention.” a smirk riddled your lips as you stood, your robe still torn, exposing the curve, and the entirety to your beautiful breasts; agatha felt as though she were in a trance.

you were so perfect, like all the tales had foretold. hela shook her head at your incensed pun, rolling her eyes at your consistent humour. “i liked this one, she was less bold than the others that we have previously visited.” noted the goddess of death, stepping back and dragging you back with her as a beam of light cascaded down through the sky, ripping the pair of you away from your current destination.

once it disappeared, the pair of you were gone; vanished. though evidence of your presence remained, agatha licked her lips, tasting you, as she simultaneously felt the affect that the pair of you had endured upon her between her dampened legs. it was a day that the stray witch would never forget, it was indeed, a memory that would surpass through her mind as she gained control, and thus more power.