#the sarcasm is seeping out my pores with this one

[biancadoes1]

Interesting that these tags aren’t being removed from Nic’s tagged pics.

Yes, VERY interesting.

It's almost as if she doesn't mind people seeing these things in her tags.

I wonder why she doesn't feel the same way about her "boyfriend"..........

[sim0nril3y]

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!OC Scenario: (setting 2014) A second date might appear to be too much, but deep down Simon knows that he wants more. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, slight mention of smut, canon-typical swearing (I mean, it's Ghost for fuck sake!).

When the idea of a wandered around a lake had been offered you were more than happy to oblige. This time you arrived promptly on time, wearing wellington boots, a thick coat and a warm looking scarf. It was the middle of Winter, at least you knew how to dress appropriately for a walk, Simon thought to himself.

It was an early Sunday morning. Usually at this time Simon would be out for a run, or maybe even down the gym so swapping that out for a woodland walk with a pretty girl wasn’t too hard for him. You seemed happy to follow his lead, it seemed that Simon knew his area better than you did anyway, especially considering your attempt to go off path within the first couple of steps, his strong hand holding your elbow and steering you in the correct direction again.

Part way around you stopped by a shack that sold warm coffees and teas. Simon ignored your pleas to pay and passed over the money. “Lucky girl~” The older woman making the drinks swooned at his chivalrous nature. “The night I met my husband I brought the first round ‘cause he forgot his wallet. It was a load of bollocks if you ask me.” A delicate giggle came from your perfect lips, immediately more personable than Simon could ever be, more engaging asking the older woman questions and showing a true interest.

After receiving your drinks, the walk continued. “You never mentioned what you did for work.” Your gentle voice announced then. His eyes stayed trained on the terrain ahead, watching for any raised tree roots or deep puddles in your path. “I didn’t?” It had been a conscious effort not to mention anything about his work. Simon knew that it was stuck in a difficult place, his job was intimidating but it was concerning not to talk about himself, especially when you had shared so much. “No, you didn’t…” Your voice was measured and reserved, like she was thinking. “What if I try and guess…” Simon’s brows pinched together as he glanced at you.

No. Say no. Keep it separate. It’ll be easier that way. “Please?” “Alright.” Fuck, really? One little plea and he breaks down instantly. Fucking hell. He was in deep here. “Oooh, okay…” You were taking this seriously, he could tell. It actually made him chuckle when you squinted your eyes at him, as if trying to imagine him in different workplaces. “Personal trainer?” You finally decided and a shocked laugh fell from his lips. “A personal trainer? What made you say that?”

“What? What are you talking about? You’re a unit.” You pointed out bluntly. Well, he did go to the gym about as often as a personal trainer. A quiet chuckle slipped from his lips as he shook his head. “I’ll assume that was a compliment.” “Trust me. It is.” Fuck, you so easily flirted with him. It was intoxicating. “Alright, so you’re not a personal trainer… Let me think…” A moment of silence passed. “Rugby player?”

A sharp laugh fell from his throat. “I don’t think I’ve played rugby since I was 14.” Smiling you and took another sip of your coffee. “Football player?” “Oh, yeah, I could’ve played for United but I was too good it was intimidating to everyone else.” He joked, his voice slick with sarcasm. He was actually joking with you. It was playful and you laughed with him. God, this was easy. You made this easy for him. “Kid, it’s nothing to do with sport.”

“Hmm…” A beat of silence fell from between them, even as he refused to look in your direction Simon could feel your eyes lingering on him. “Army?” He tensed. Maybe it was that just obvious. Maybe the stench of war seeped from his pores. Maybe his eyes spoke the trauma and torture he’d seen. “Army.” You confirmed softly when he didn’t decline anything. Simon couldn’t bring himself to say a single word. “We don’t have to talk about it…” His cold heart warmed just a touch then. God, he was thankful to you for not pushing him, you didn’t want to ask any of the stupid questions that people usually pushed at him.

They walked in silence for a while after that. Simon prayed you wouldn’t think any different of him. God, he sounded pathetic. It wasn’t like this could ever work out anyway. Eventually you would get bored and move on. That dark inner monologue shut down the moment he felt your cold fingers wrapping around his pinky. Three of them wrapped around the thick digit. You had taken the opportunity of ceasing the hand hanging by his side. Sneaky, but… innocent. Part of him didn’t like touch but you touch… Yeah, he liked that.

Their walked continued and you chatted away seamlessly about her friends, only just touching on the subject of family, but mostly you filled him in on the artwork you had been working on this week. A cynical side of Simon kept thinking all that rubbish was a waste of time, but a softer side reminded him that you weren’t doing any harm following a dream.

A sudden set of dogs came rushing in their direction, you squealed in surprise kneeling down to pet them as they rushed forward, but Simon quickly yanked you back to your feet, placed a step behind him protectively. “They’re safe!” An owner a good few feet away yelled along with a hearty laugh. Not hesitating you stepped around him and greeted both the dogs happily, cooing over them and causing a fuss. Simon stood aside, holding both drinks and looking tense.

The owner whistled curtly causing them both to shoot off in their direction. A quiet giggle came from you whilst rising up, brushing off your dirty knees and accepting the coffee back from Simon. “You don’t like dogs?” “I don’t like dogs I don’t know.” He corrected simply. “I don’t know. They seemed friendly enough.” Stated with a tiny shrug.

“They seem friendly until they are sinking their teeth into your face because you’re at head height for them…” Simon stated bluntly. Fuck, that was too much. He really shouldn’t have said that. Say something. Save it. “And I happen to like your face without bite marks.” A surprisingly bright smile pressed across your face before quirking your brows and asking softly. “Oh, so you like my face?”

“Walk, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.” He commanded, pressing a hand to your lower back briskly. “Is that a promise…” “Go.”

Their walk came to an end as your arrived back at the carpark. Bloody hell, they had been walking for over two hours. Most of the time you had been chatting, but there had been some really comfortable silence between them. Fuck, this was getting too deep. Two dates in and Simon wanted more, but… but it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t allow you to get closer. He needed this to be the end.

As they approached your car Simon observed it. It was a beat up little banger with a dent in every panel. Pulling your keys from your bag and slowly turned to face him. “Thanks for a nice time…” Your voice soft and delicate, taking a dangerous step in his direction and tilting your head up to turn your intoxicating gaze on him. Bloody fucking hell. How the fuck was he supposed to remain composed? How was he supposed to resist her?

They grew closer. Simon could feel his heart raising in his chest. “Find a boy your own age, for Christ sake.” His whispered just inches from your mouth. He was fighting every fibre in his being not to plead you her to move on from him. “I don’t want them.” Your voice was breathless and bordering on frustrated. “Simon, if you don’t want me just tell me and I’ll go…” That was a stupid idea, he thought.

Like a cornered animal Simon bit back. “Fuckin’ hell. ‘Course I want you.” That was the most honest and blunt that he had been with you in the short time he’d know you. “You have no idea how much that I want you, but… it isn’t as easy as that. I’m not… I can’t give you what you want. Not right away.” Touch and sex and affection. It was a very tricky subject for Simon. It was something he rarely navigated with someone outside of a rare drunk one-night stand. Those felt less messy. Barely even learned their names half the time. “I can wait.” Again, your words interrupted his fuzzy mind and he focused on your face again.

His eyes lingered on you, willing you to continue without wanting to say the words aloud. “Whatever you need. At your pace.” It wasn’t difficult for to sense something different about him. Most men that took you out wanted to bring you back to their flats that night, but Simon had barely wanted to kissed you. It was like you could sense some type of barrier, or a trauma, or just something he simply wasn’t telling you. There was no way that you would judge and you certainly wouldn’t press until he was ready. “You’re not going to scare me off.”

“Fuck…” Muttering under his breath as he leaned in to press his forehead against your own. “I’m just not gonna be able to shake you off, am I?” “Certainly not easily.” Your voice was delicate, bordering on amused before feeling your lips press innocently against his cheek. “When are you free next week?” This time Simon asked the question, ignoring all those voices of doubt and destruction in his mind and following the one that encouraged some type of happiness.

Masterlist | Ask

[cherryxsapphic]

So, I have a request! (If you don’t like this request idea, you don’t have to write it!)

Marilyn x fem!(can be a student or a teacher)reader, where Marilyn is extremely overprotective over reader. R is used to her pritective nature, but it sometimes goes a bit too far, when Marilyn won’t let r hangout w her friends or go out in a certain outfit. Or when someone tries to hit on r, she would immediately come over and wrap her hand around r’s waist.

So basically just overprotective Marilyn, maybe some angst! You can choose how it goes!

Take your time <3

This is for the lovely @m1lflov3rrr I am dreadfully sorry that it took me literal months to even put this out, but I do hope you enjoy!!🍒

Also a special thanks to my pookie bear @h-doodles for helping me with this, I couldn't have done this without you!! 🥰

You were sitting down peacefully in the quad by yourself. Sandwich in hand as you jam out to some music blaring through your earbuds, bobbing your head slightly to the rhythm when you suddenly feel a sharp fingernail aggressively tapping your right shoulder. You jumped slightly at the sudden interruption, whipping your head towards the person in question, setting them with an annoyed look only to soften when you realized it was just Enid, Enid Sinclair, the local colorful werewolf. You take a moment to pause your music and pull out your earbuds, setting them down gently on the table alongside your forgotten sandwich. Spinning your body around the school bench, finally giving the very excited wolf your full attention, looking up at her from your seated position, you give her a sheepish smile before speaking.

“Sorry, Enid! I was so caught up in my music that I didn’t notice you there!”  

"I know, silly! You've been hard to see around these past few weeks, so I just HAD to come over."

"I got busy…" You fight to keep your blush down as you think of what, or more accurately, who exactly got you busy. "My schoolwork has been slipping, so I asked a few teachers for extra work." You say, to cover it up.

Enid nods, understanding. Being a student with academic achievements, she often saw you poring over textbooks in the library OR trailing after your teachers for extra lessons during your free time, orders from your strict parents who monitored your progress over your head. “Well,” she starts, clasping her hands together. “Me and the girls have missed you a lot, so I wondered if you were free tonight?”

Guilt seeps into your bones when you hear the hope in her tone. You have been neglecting your friends and a dark whisper inside your brain–

“I suppose I’ve pestered our teachers enough, and I just finished passing the latest exam, so… I guess I'm free." 

“Yayyy!!!” Enid does a little happy dance before lifting you for a hug. You shouldn’t be surprised by the excitable werewolf’s strength, but you gasp a bit anyway. “We’re going to a party in the woods tonight; you HAVE to come!" 

When she finally puts you down, you sigh and shake your head. “The woods? Enid, you know Weems banned us from going there, right?”

“Don’t worry; the party is located somewhere TOTALLY safe—”

“Hey, girlies!” you stifle a scream when a cold hand suddenly touches your back. “Finally caught us a live one, huh?”

“Haha, hilarious, Tanaka.” your tone dripping with sarcasm as you turn around to give the vampire a playful slap on the hand.

“Don’t start. You’re going to the party, and I’m going to your dorm later to ensure you’re dressed right.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!”

And here you are in your dorm room, contemplating your life choices before sighing, putting on something comfortable, and grabbing your comfort jacket that belongs to Marilyn. You put the coat to your nose and breathe in her wavering scent, wishing you were with her instead of going to this stupid forest party. Falling on your bed, you bend over clumsily, grabbing your shoes off the ground and putting them on as you were just finishing tying your shoes—

Yoko and the FUCKING Scooby gang burst into your room like a pile of rats searching for cheese. 

“Girliepop, you’re not wearing THAT to the party, right?” Yoko asked, looking you up and down.

While holding Mari's jacket, you looked down at your black jeans, red Converse, and a favorite baggy shirt. Then back to Yoko, who opened your closet and rifled through your clothes while Enid talked animatedly to a sulking Wednesday.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Yoko pointedly looks at you and pulls out a short, skimpy dress. You blush as you remember Marilyn telling you it was a dress for her eyes only and that you would never wear it out. “You’re simply holding out on us, omg.”

"Yeah, the party's in the woods, so that's a hard NO on wearing that one!"

"Oh come on, what's the point of having that snack of a body if you aren't gonna use the right wrappers?"

"Listen, my tits spill out in one move in that one, and I'd rather die than return it to the store because of anxiety, so you can just. Pick another one… please?"

Yoko pouts but acquiesces to your pleading. Flipping through some more, she finds a similar-looking skimpy dress, but a little longer than you were confident you'd make out with your dignity half-intact.

"Here."

"Oooh!" Enid moves over, done pestering Wednesday for the moment, and oohs and ahs over the dress before starting again. "Pair it with the heeled boots, and wear tights if you're concerned about the cold."

"I mean. I'm bringing along this jacket, but why heeled boots—”

“Because we said so. Now hop to it.”

Throwing your hands up, you take the new outfit and walk to your bathroom to change. 

The party in the woods was in full swing, the rhythmic beat of music mingling with the laughter and chatter of the gathered crowd. Strings of fairy lights adorned the trees, casting a warm, enchanting glow over the makeshift dance floor. Enid, the excitable werewolf, led the charge in festivities, dragging you into the heart of the celebration.

As the night unfolded, the atmosphere grew electric, the energy contagious. You found yourself dancing with newfound friends, the pulsating music drowning out any lingering doubts. However, the borrowed outfit — a compromise between your comfort and the party's expectations — seemed to attract more attention than you anticipated.

Yoko, the lively vampire, strutted over, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Girl, you're the life of the party! Everyone's talking about that dress!"

You blushed, feeling both flattered and self-conscious. The beats throbbed louder, urging you to lose yourself in the music, and you obliged, dancing away the concerns that nagged at the edges of your mind.

But as the night wore on, a discordant note disrupted the harmony. The distant growls of the creature you encountered earlier echoed through the trees, casting a shadow over the revelry. The carefree atmosphere shifted, and hushed whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Enid, always exuberant, tried to downplay the unease. "Guys, it's probably just some forest critter. Don't let it ruin the party!"

Yet, the anxiety lingered, and a subtle tension threaded its way through the crowd. The music played on, but the once carefree dancing took on a more cautious rhythm.

Suddenly, the distant growls escalated into a deafening roar, and panic rippled through the partygoers. People scattered in all directions, the fairy lights casting eerie shadows as they dashed for cover.

Enid grabbed your arm, eyes wide with fear. "We need to get back to the school—now!"

Chaos ensued as the revelry devolved into a frenzied scramble. The once lively dance floor transformed into a chaotic scene of stumbling figures, their laughter replaced by shouts of panic.

As you ran back toward the safety of Nevermore, you couldn't shake the feeling that the creature's pursuit was closing in. The enchanted woods, once a backdrop for joyous gatherings, now harbored an ominous threat.

The party had taken a turn no one expected, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake. In the midst of the pandemonium, you yearned for the familiar embrace of Marilyn's jacket, a reminder of comfort amid the unforeseen disaster that had unfolded in the enchanted night.

‘I’m going to die. I’m going to fucking die, and it’s MY fault.’ I scream inside my head while I dart left and right through the trees. Protip: do not wear heels when going into the woods. Scratch that. Trust no one except Mari. Everyone is dumb EXCEPT Mari, especially when they say the woods are safe, there is NO monster, and you’re going to have SUCH a good time.

I could’ve enjoyed a nice cuddling session with Mari if I just stayed in bed and waited for her like usual, but no. I had to let myself get guilted and dragged to this party in these stupid heels and dress, and now I’m being chased by a BEAST, and I don’t even have my phone to give Mommy my goodbyes!’ 

The monster roars somewhere closer behind me, and I feel like I will have a HEART ATTACK! But I'll be fine once I get to the school, and look, there's the Hogwarts-looking building right there. So I just keep running. Thinking I'll be okay, my dumbass trips over a branch, and suddenly, I just want to give up. I feel like those dumb girls in those low-budget horror films.

As you scramble to your feet, panic gripping you like a vice, you hear the menacing growls of the pursuing creature drawing near. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you sprint toward the safety of the school building, your heels abandoned in the unforgiving underbrush.

The imposing silhouette of Nevermore looms ahead, a beacon of hope in the darkness. The monster's roars reverberate through the trees, pushing you to run faster, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Just when you think the creature is on the verge of catching you, the school's entrance comes into view. You burst through the doors, heart pounding, and slam them shut behind you, momentarily cutting off the creature's menacing sounds.

Safe within the confines of the school, you lean against the door, catching your breath. The echo of your heartbeats seems to drown out the lingering fear. The school hallway stretches before you, the familiar surroundings offering a stark contrast to the perilous adventure you just survived.

As you compose yourself, you realize that the night took an unexpected turn, and your friends might not have been entirely truthful about the safety of the woods. Thoughts of Marilyn flood your mind, and a profound longing for the comfort of her presence washes over you.

You decide to retreat to the quietude of your dorm room, shedding the borrowed outfit and slipping into the familiar warmth of Marilyn's jacket. The scent provides solace, grounding you in the reality that, despite the night's chaos, you are safe within the walls of Nevermore.

Reflecting on the events, you vow to prioritize your own well-being and not succumb to peer pressure. As you drift into a contemplative state, you can't help but yearn for the simplicity of sharing a peaceful moment with Marilyn, free from the chaos that lurks beyond the safety of Nevermore's embrace. 

To be continued…

Sorry for the lack of Marilyn in this chapter but don't worry there will be more in part 2, if y'all want a part 2 you that is?? 🤭

Tags: @s1nful-sa1nt @sssappling2004 @marilynthornhill @proton-selfships @philip-15 @luucyyyy (and anyone else who wants to be tagged ♡)

[64yrsold]

ACHES 5. sunshower

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (4)

“You live close to the bar,” he noticed, hands tight on the steering wheel. I wished he’d reach over, hold one hand to the inside of my thigh. 

“Yeah,” I clasped my hands together, “Convenient, I suppose.”

“Sure,” he nodded, his hand opening on the wheel as he turned right. “You go there a lot?”

“I guess,” I uncrossed my ankles, and crossed them again. “Not a concerning amount.”

“‘Course not.”

I listened to the low hum of his car. He kept the radio off, which made me focus on the sound of my breathing. 

“Do you live in the city?” I asked, since he asked about where I lived. And I didn’t want to admit that I did go to the bar a concerning amount.

“No, I’m just visiting for a bit.” He looked over his shoulder as he changed lanes. All his stops and starts were smooth, and he never went too fast around corners. The way he drove nearly lulled me to sleep.

“You have family here?” 

“No,” he laughed, then cleared his throat, “No.” He flicked on the heating, adjusting the vent to wash over my stiff hands.

“So you’re gonna disappear on me in a few days?” I joked, hoping he understood my sarcasm.

“This car turns into a pumpkin at midnight,” he shrugged. Then, more seriously, “I’m here a week longer.”

“Well,” I patted his shoulder, “Thanks for giving me one of your evenings.”

“Two,” he corrected, with a shiny smile. 

“That was more of a night, I think,” I returned his smile with a bigger one, squeezing my interlocked fingers back together so I wouldn't reach out for him again.

“Sure was,” he looked at me, winking. My heart rolled over.

We had slept together.

I swallowed, not unhappy, but feeling embarrassed. This was a new fucking low, completely blacking out and sleeping with a stranger in a random hotel room. I could’ve been killed. I could feel all the excitement of the evening seep from my pores, leaving an adrenaline-like emptiness. My pulse battered its way up my neck.

“We’re here,” he parked the car, “Ready?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“So, at that point, I wasn’t even really listening to her,” he rambled, chin resting neatly on his open palm. His fingers tapped his cheek steadily, a metronome which I watched closely, waiting for the seconds to dissipate. “I mean, who says something like that? So I told her–”

“Matty,” I interjected timidly, setting my fork on the pristine napkin, “I think I should go.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he sat up straight, picking up his cup of wine, “Let me take you home.”

“Thank you, but,” I grimaced, clearing my throat. I smoothed the white tablecloth in front of me. “I think… I don’t think it’s working.”

His glass paused on his lips, “You don’t think it’s working?” He blinked slowly, voice distorted from the cup.

“You’re really lovely,” I smiled, and he set his glass down quickly. I sighed, “I just don’t think I’m the girl for you.”

His eyes looked down at his thumbs, which traced the edge of each other slowly. “Why not?” he was quiet, mumbling.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I urged, standing from the table, “It was great getting to know you.”

“Yeah,” he stood, reaching out, then tucking his hand behind his neck, “Yeah, you too.”

“I’m sorry,” I squeaked for a final time, letting my eyes linger on his furrowed brow. My lips formed a goodbye, but I couldn’t manage to speak it aloud. I turned, leaving him in the restaurant alone. My heart was thudding painfully in my chest.

“Wait!” I heard him call, and I stopped on the sidewalk. I didn’t look back, frozen as I heard him run up behind me. “I didn’t sleep with you.”

I turned to face him, his eyes wide with panic.

“Oh.”

“No,” he shook his head forcefully, knocking a few curls loose onto his forehead. “You were drunk. I… I would never.”

“I thought you were drunk too,” I picked at the corner of my thumb, ripping the skin into jagged pieces. “You were drunk when we left the bar.”

“I, um,” he was frantically scraping his hands through his neatly gelled hair, “I just sober up quickly, to be honest.”

“Okay,” I tried to find some sort of courage to tell him I had completely blacked out.

“I don’t know why I fucking winked at you,” he laughed, without humour. “I’m so fucking nervous, I’m trying not to fuck this up.”

“I don’t want to either,” I assured him, noticing his shoulders relax as I spoke. He thumbed at the corner of his mouth, pursing his lips. His hands were busy without a cigarette occupying them.

“I really like you,” he took a careful step forward, slipping a hand behind my elbow. He held it there gingerly, like a hummingbird over a flower. “I got you something.”

“What?” I frowned, “You don’t need to buy me anything.”

He smiled, “Just let me show you first.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket– which I was still wearing– pulling out a small jewelry case. It was sleek and expensive. He looked at me with a star in his iris. “Marry me?”

“Um,” I sputtered, my mouth opening and closing stupidly.

He laughed quietly, “Kidding.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” I sighed, then fell silent as he opened the case. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, simple with small diamond stars dangling at even intervals. “I can’t take that.”

“It might be a bit big,” he fussed, taking the bracelet out of the case, “Give me your arm, sweetheart.”

“I can’t have that,” I traced my fingers over my wrist, shaking my head. The bracelet sparkled like sunshower between his fingers. 

“The diamonds are fake,” he reached for my hand, clasping the bracelet around my cold wrist easily. “Fits perfect.”

“Promise they’re fake.”

“They’re fake.”

“Because if–”

“I want you to have it, please. To remember our first night.” His eyebrows tucked into each other, pleading. 

I didn’t remember our first night. “Okay.”

His hands were still on my wrist, his thumb pressed to the inside of it.

“I can take you home now.”

“Okay.”

His palm moved to cover mine, holding my hand firmly. He pulled me to his car, opening the door for me. When I fastened my seatbelt, he stared down at me, leaning against the roof of the car. I looked up at him, watching his mouth twitch and threaten to speak. He just let his pupils fill his irises, licking his bottom smiling lip. He closed the door.

-> next (6)

[terapsina]

Reasons to watch Nancy Drew (The CW series)

Okay, so. There’s not that much talk about this show. But honestly? its kinda great actually.

Things you should know going in. It’s based on the Nancy Drew mystery novels BUT with a lot of creative liberties being taken. Largest of which is that this is a show that focuses HEAVILY on the supernatural.

But for those of us who LIKE those kinda shows it’s actually, really a fun watch. Be advised, this show LOVES its jump-scares (if there is a creepy corpse on whose eyes the camera focuses on? it will blink; if there is a wide pan shot of the characters from behind some trees? a malevolent spirit is staring at them; a character is in a dark room? there will probably be hands reaching out of walls trying to touch them), and honestly? it delivers on those scares quite effectively.

It’s a bit like... if you crossed Buffy with Veronica Mars, with just a TOUCH of Scooby-Doo.

The show takes place in the small town of Horseshoe Bay. It’s a town full of such charming traditions as knocking buckets of water over the porch at midnight and if it’s filled with blood, you’ll die within the year. And a town legend of infamous Lucy Sable who vanished under mysterious circumstances the night she was named Sea Queen. And the spirit of Aglaeca, who will grant you your wish if you pay her toll.

The main character is Nancy Drew.

And I really do love her. Like, she is a MESS. She’s a prime example of a fixing a mess by making a bigger mess and fixing the bigger mess by going nuclear and fixing the consequences of going nuclear by grasping at straws until it almost works, and then when a thing that she can’t live with happens going nuclear ALL OVER AGAIN.

And she’s got a very powerful puppy dog ‘help me’ face that gets people around her in trouble. Like, I wouldn’t be able to say no to that face either probably.

But she loves her friends so much. Well, as soon as they actually become friends (they start out as a rag-tag group of people thrown into fire together when they all become the prime suspects for murder... as one does). But by the end of the first season? She would, quite literally, bleed for them (plus deal with the world’s MOST UNCOMFORTABLE situation to save their lives).

And speaking of said friends. Lets start with my personal favorite character. George Fan.

She’s got sarcasm and aggravation seeping out of her from her every pore. But she’s also a very complex character who has a lot of underlying motivations for her defense mechanisms. George has three sisters, all younger than her, who she’s basically raised herself and supports financially through her diner, The Claw.

Also I’m absolutely pulled in by the potential for how her character gets developed in the future because there’s a LOT of juicy stuff for the writers to work with.

Also the romance story she’s given in the second half of the first season is really sweet and lets us take a glimpse at her softer side, because she’s actually very vulnerable (which is WHY she needs her defenses).

Then there’s Bess Marvin.

Bess is a member of the Marvin family (a very rich, kinda shady ‘maybe not as much so as the Hudsons (the OTHER super shady rich people) but only maybe’ town family). 

A lot of what her character is about is a bit spoilery. But basically she’s the very gay, very sweet, a bit out of touch character who’s a bit of a kleptomaniac. And makes everything sound more dramatic than it is (except when it’s supernatural drama in which case I think she adds just the right touch of drama).

Next up. Ned Nickerson but everyone calls him Nick.

He’s just... a very nice dude. He’s the one who really quickly goes ride-or-die for people. 

And if I gave characters points for soulful stares I’d DEFINITELY give Nick a solid: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

He’s introduced as the guy Nancy is hooking up with. But he also has a very tragic background story that also includes some spoilers but in the vaguest way possible, lets just say that he’s recently out of jail for something he shouldn’t have been convicted for and coming to Horseshoe Bay for a new start.

The ghosts weren’t exactly part of the plan, but eh, what are you gonna do?

(edit: he's also a case of 'only sane man' between a group of friends who would totally do a home autopsy on a haunted corpse that followed Nancy home from the town morgue)

And finally. Ace.

Bess’s platanchor.

Totally dependable. Down to go along with the most crazy stuff with barely an eyeblink. Basically he’s what you’d get if you crossed Oz with (a less irritating version of) Xander.

---

In essence, I’d recommend Nancy Drew for those who enjoy a quite decent who-done-it mystery but don’t mind it crashing headfirst into a very FUN oh-noes-ghosts-and-monsters-are-real-and-trying-to-kill-us series.

Also, a bit of advice for anyone whose stomach for scary stuff is as weak as mine? Don’t watch it after dark while you’re alone at home. You WILL sleep with your night-light on.

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 1.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings for this chapter: Fellatio, Face Fucking, Cock Worship, Cum Swallowing, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, Daddy Kink

TagList- @ayyyocee​, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner​, @yeonkiminnie​​, @stories1907​​, @ppersonna​​, @brilee64​​, @gooplibrary​​, @vivpurple7​, @xjoonchildx​, @brightwingr5​, @yaniposts22​, @rjsmochii​, @taeslittletiger​, @pjmcth​, @bts-chub​

Sequel to The Bird Cage

"Easy, Kitten." Jimin's voice is ignored by you as you tilt your head to the man sitting in your shared office. Your fingernails dig into the man's cheek and you watch him flinch before smirking. 

"Where's my money?" Your husband leans back in his chair, whisky glass in hand before tilting his head back. "You should answer her before she gets angry."

Yu Kirsoon is a strong, built man that you've turned feeble and weak within seconds. "I-I-" You move his head around like a rag doll before raising an eyebrow.

"You-You what?" You mock through gritted teeth and his shoulders hunch over as you take your hand off of his face before giving it a small, disparaging slap. The office is silent apart from Jeongguk in the corner flipping a knife between his fingers as both him and your husband watch on at the sight in front of them. 

“I don’t know where the money is. I did a drop off without checking for pick up.” His voice is a mere whisper in the large room. You clap your hands in front of his face, he flinches and you lean back against the desk. “You owe me four million dollars. How are you going to repay that when you have not a single brain cell in your meat head.”

Jimin snorts from behind you and you fold your arms. You watch as he bows his head, the branding mark on his neck gnarled and twisted with scars from past fights. “Why doesn’t he go work for the Lees for the time being? So you don’t have to see his face.” Jimin suggests quietly, he has a soft spot for all of his Lions and you know this very well. 

“Oh, no. That won’t do at all.” You mumble before picking up your glass of champagne and taking a sip. “He’ll go work at The Bird Cage. To pay off his debt.” 

You hear Jeongguk clear his throat quietly, “You’ll be a good waiter. Won’t you Kirsoon?” He nods weakly as you stand back up to full height, hands brushing off the wrinkles you’ve made in your Chanel dress. “Yes, madam.”

“That’s a good boy.”

Entering your bedroom, your eyes land on Lion as he sleeps on your pillow. The corners of your lips turn upwards before rolling your head on your shoulders. There was very little time for peace and quiet in this house and you take what you can get, if you’re being honest. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you lean back on your hands. Eyes lazily traipsing over both paintings on the far end of the room before the door opens. “Kitten.”

You glance over at your husband before sitting up straighter. He fixes his tie before carding his fingers through his black hair. He narrows his eyes at you, whisky glass in hand before pointing his index finger at you over the lip. “You can’t just send Lions to do cheap work at The Bird Cage.” 

You roll your eyes before turning your body towards him. “Did he or did he not lose our money FOR the casino?” He sips his whisky, neck veins jutting at the harsh burn before nodding his head.

“Then he will work AT the casino, until I say so.” He scoffs gently before unbuttoning his black suit jacket. “You’re a fucking brat.”

You shrug as he strips off the layer of clothing, laying it over the velvet arm chair before sauntering towards you. “Brats can have fun too.” He snorts, uncuffing his sleeves before straddling you. His hand meets your chest before you’re being shoved back into the bed. “Brats get punished, Kitten.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips before you’re tilting your head. He hums gently before putting both hands on either side of your face and turning you to look up at him. “Kitten, you do everything you can to get under my skin don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” He chuckles to himself before leaning down and kissing you. His plush pink lips warm against your skin as he kisses you with unbridled passion. His tongue licks over the seam of your lips and your hands grasp at his toned arms. He moans gently as your mouth opens for him, whisky laden tongue running over yours before he hears a loud shriek that could only be from his daughter and the noise is barreling right towards the master bedroom. He clicks his teeth before hopping off of you. His eyes stay on the door before the shadows of little feet appear underneath it. He chuckles to himself gently, hand rubbing over your bare thigh as the door creaks open. 

Hawon gasps loudly before smiling at the both of you and you can’t help but giggle as your husband gasps back playfully. “Who’s that? Is that the prettiest princess of them all?!” He calls out cutely to her making her giggle as she sways her body. 

He stands up with a groan before crouching and holding his arms out to her, she runs towards him at full speed and he grunts as he catches her as she jumps up. Her arms wrap around his neck before burying her face into his shirt. “You woke up from your nap? Hmm?” 

She nods, face rubbing over his crisp white shirt before he’s rubbing his hand over her back. “Mommy?” You hum to your daughter as you sit up, fingers combing through your hair. 

“Can I have a little sister now?” Your heart pangs and you clear your throat before standing up. “Why don’t we go find Mirae, hmm?” Jimin whispers quickly to her before kissing your forehead.

You watch as he walks away, lips turning down into a frown before he exits the bedroom. You stare ahead at the paintings on the wall, head tilting as your fingers snag at a knot within your hair. It’s not like you both weren’t trying for another one, you were. Constantly trying actually. But, it just wasn’t as easy as the first two. Hawon was unexpected, Minseok was unexpected and now that you were trying for a third it just wasn’t coming as easily as you’d like. Jimin accuses everything but the both of you for this. To him it was the Im’s fault. They’ve had you both so stressed out lately, after receiving the knowledge that they killed your parents. He says the stress is bad for your womb. Whatever the fuck that means. The casino is another cause for no baby. Stress from making sure the casino runs properly is too much for you to handle and that is why your womb is still empty.

You lay back on the bed as Lion walks over the mattress before laying down on your chest. But, you know the truth. It’s your fault. You’ve slowly found the time between all the stress to hate yourself for it. You see Jimin’s eyes light up after each sexual encounter, like he’s begging you and whatever God to give him another child. You see his body shiver with anticipation if your period is a day late. You see it all. And, you can’t help that you find it discouraging. Because you should give him everything he wants and this one thing is just not coming. 

“Phones.” You throw your phone into the sound proof metal box before looking over at Jeongguk as he stares down at the table. His hair is greasy, heavy bags laden under his doe eyes and you can smell the alcohol seeping from his pores. You raise an eyebrow as he shuts his eyes as if he’s in pain. You put your hand gently on his arm. Before you know it, his hand shoots out grabbing your wrist before twisting it harshly. “Guk!” You whine in pain as he continues to twist it to the left.

Your body moves with his grasp as the joint of your shoulder sends a sharp pain through you. “Jeongguk!” Jimin yells loudly, you could feel the muscles in your arm tensing almost the point of ripping. Your husband cocks his gun before putting the mouth to Jeongguk’s forehead. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He seethes to the younger man as the rest of the guys cock their guns at him.

He lets you out of his grasp and you whine loudly falling back into your chair. “Never touch my wife for as long as you fucking live. What’re you dumb?!” You rub at your shoulder before narrowing your eyes at the youngest. Jeongguk stays silent before opening his eyes, “Sorry.” He mumbles before pulling a bottle of Hennessy out of his hoodie and unscrewing the cap.

Jimin wraps his arm around your waist, hand running over your side before ripping his feral eyes away from the torturer in the room. “You okay, baby?” You roll your shoulder before nodding slightly. 

“I’ll be fine.” He scoffs before massaging at the muscles of your shoulder. “Get out.” He tells Jeongguk who turns his gaze to his boss without an inkling of care in his eyes. 

“Get out? Of where? The meeting? Of life? Where would you like me to ‘get out’ to, boss?” His voice is heavy with sarcasm and you close your eyes as Jimin smacks the metal table before gritting his teeth. “Get out of this fucking room before I kill you.”

Jeongguk shrugs before standing up and shoving the other men’s chairs out of his way. “What the fuck is wrong with him today?” Hoseok mumbles before fixing his chair with a scoff. 

“It’s Lee’s death anniversary.” Yoongi mumbles as he sparks his cigarette. You frown deeply as Jeongguk slams the door shut behind him and you feel your face blanch before looking at your husband. He runs his hands over his face before clearing his throat. “Fuck.”

It took you a while to find him, but you did. He sits at the edge of the garden, legs tucked underneath him as he runs his fingers through the blades of perfectly cut grass. “Hi.” You whisper before sitting down next to him. 

He doesn’t speak, he just stares at the floor. You both sit for a while, his eyes below him and yours on the sun as it begins to set on the horizon. The sky is a pretty salmon color and you find yourself thinking that before Jimin and this life nothing was pretty to you. You don’t know if your presence is comforting or not but you’ve known Jeongguk for a long time now and anything you can do for him you would. 

You could hear the kids screaming inside of the mansion and you tilt your head to look at him as he groans gently. “I’m sorry I hurt you, noona.” His voice is slurred from all of his alcohol intake but you can easily hear the regret. You show him your hand before rubbing his back in comforting circles.

“It hurts.” He mumbles before looking up at the setting sun. His hands rub together before pulling out the bottle of alcohol he had earlier at the meeting. “She’s painted on the back of my eyelids every second of the fucking day and just for once, just today, I wish I didn’t have to see her.”

You nod at his words, not saying anything for fear of speaking out of turn during his time of need. “She is always around, haunting me. In my dreams, in my mind, behind my eyelids. I don’t know what I would do without her but just for today… I wish this guilt wasn’t eating me alive.” You hum in agreement as he hangs his head. 

“I’m sorry Guk.” He spins the cap off the bottle before chuckling to himself, “Jimin is going to fucking flay my ass for gripping you like that. Fuck my life.” His voice ends in a murmur before he’s swigging from the bottle. 

“Kitten!” You hear your husband loud and clear before turning your head. He stands on the balcony of your bedroom, arms folded with narrowed eyes. 

“Come upstairs.” His voice is clipped and Jeongguk grunts gently. He was in trouble and you feel bad for him.

You enter the bedroom quietly, your husband stands shirtless leaning against the balcony door frame. “He hurt you, why would you go and see him when he’s like that?” He chides you before turning around. 

“Because he’s hurting and he needs someone.” Jimin scoffs gently before standing up tall. “You’re to stay away from him until he is sober. Do you hear me?” You hum unamused before he’s raising an eyebrow. 

“Why don’t you ever fucking listen?!” 

“He’s hurting Jimin! He needs someone!” You yell out to your husband as you point your finger towards the closed doors. 

“That someone isn't you! You’re too precious to me! What would happen if you got hurt because he can’t control his emotions?! You’ve seen him! He’s like a ticking time bomb!” You fold your arms before scoffing. “You’ve been his friend since you were younger. Why don’t you go talk to him then?” 

Jimin rubs his hands over his face before walking over to the liquor caddy and pouring himself a glass of whisky. “Because I can’t. You stay away from him until he’s sober. Or else.”

“Or else what?!” He slams down the glass of whisky before turning to you. “Kitten.”

Your feet pad over to him before you’re wrapping him into a hug. He’s projecting, you know your husband well enough for that. He blames himself for the death of Lee, something he has spoken about a few times throughout the years of marriage. He feels guilty. 

Your lips traipse along his jaw, his hands grip at your hips before sighing gently. “Kitten, I’m really not in the mood right now.”

You ignore him, suckling sweet patches onto his collarbones before trailing lower. His gun is discarded onto the liquor caddy by you before your hands find his belt and you undo it silently. You kiss over his chest, taking time to shower the names of you and your two children with love before swiping your tongue over his nipple. He sighs gently before pressing himself flush against the wall. “Kitten. Please.”

You silence him with a playful nip on his nipple before unzipping his pants. “Y/N.” He calls to you quietly, “Let me take care of you.” 

His head lolls back to the wall as his hands run through your hair. “I just have this guilt.” He mumbles to the air as you lick over the plains of his abs. 

“I know.” You whisper gently before pushing down his pants. He grips at your hair as you suck at the skin above the waistband of his briefs. Your fingers find the waistband before tugging them down. He takes in a sharp breath between his teeth as his cock smacks up into his stomach. You hum pleased before getting to your knees. 

You see the sight of him daily and it never gets old. He groans gently, tugging at your hair as you wrap your hand around his long length. The bulbous tip blushed pink with need begins to weep as you pump him slowly. “Oh fuck.” He curses before his eyes flutter shut. 

You lick at the seam of his head, collecting his precum on your tongue before swirling the muscle around him smoothly. He gasps gently and you watch as his thigh muscles shake with unabashed pleasure. “Oh, Kitten. Shit.” 

You take his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to make a vacuum like suction around him. He curses gently as you begin a steady rhythm of fucking his cock into your mouth. He tugs at your hair harder as his ass pushes off of the wall. “Will you let me fuck your throat? Hmm, Kitten?” 

You moan in response as he grips at your head with both of his hands. His jaw tightens before both of your eyes connect. “I love you so much, baby girl.” You whimper as he thrusts gently. 

“I just, fuck, need all this stress to go away.” With every word his cock begins to ram harder into you. Your hands grip at his muscular thighs as his moans get louder. You swallow around him letting his cock go in deeper as your throat muscles clench and lax around him with every thrust. “Oh fuck, you’re such a good little girl letting me fuck your throat like this.” 

The flat of your tongue runs over his shaft and a string of curses leaves your husband's mouth. "Oh Kitten." 

You begin to gag as he fucks your mouth faster, eyes welling up with tears as you hear his groan grow louder. "Fuck, you like that? God, baby you look so hot when you cry for my cock." 

Your manicured fingernails dig into the flesh of his thighs and you can see him shiver visibly. "Oh fuck! Fuck!" 

His cock begins to throb and you will your throat and gag reflex to behave as he tucks his plush bottom lip between his teeth. His gaze is soft as he looks down at you, like you're holding him to the Earth with every thrust. Streams of precum trail down your throat and you moan at the taste that is solely your husband. “Oh, babe. I’m going to cum. Fuck!”

Your hand grabs at his tightening balls, rolling and squeezing them gently. His head smacks into the wall as he gives off a long, slow moan. “That’s it, baby. Fuck! Kitten.” 

He chokes on a gasp before his cock stills, “Oh, fuck I love you.” With that sentence he orgasms, hands pushing down on your head as you sputter around him. Ropes of cum paint your throat. “Swallow and show me.”

You swallow before letting your tongue hang out of your mouth as you pull away. He looks drunk, black hair disheveled as his sideburns slick down to his face with sweat. He gives you a lazy smirk before bending down and kissing your forehead. “You’re very, very good at distracting me, Kitten. Too good.” He mumbles making you giggle. 

He helps you up before rubbing at your reddened knees. You pull his pants back up as he sighs gently. He grabs his whisky glass before wrapping his hand around your wrist and pulling you over to the bed. He sits down on the edge, eyes opening wide as if he was trying to wake himself up. He pats the spot next to him and you sit with him for a moment before he is pulling you into his chest to coddle you. “I thought after the whole Kim Shin business we would find ourselves in an easier spot but everything is building up against.”

You nod against him, hearing his heart rate even out before running your fingers over his chest. You feel the defined pectoral muscles he’s been working hard to keep and you can’t help but look up at him as he sips from his glass of whisky. His Adam’s apple bobs and neck veins appear as he sips the alcohol. Small droplets of sweat run down his honey skin and you wipe at them making him smile. “Are you listening to me, Kitten? Or are you checking out your husband?” He teases before leaning back on his hands.

“Both.” You answer truthfully making him snort. You grab the glass of whisky before chugging the contents and setting it down on the floor. Your leg swings over his waist as you straddle him and his hands begin to caress your thighs. He gives a small chuckle before putting one arm underneath his head as he looks up at you. “Any problems we have, we can fix them together.” You tell him as your fingers begin to run over the plains of his abs. 

“I know, baby. I just…” He exhales loudly before rubbing circles into your skin, “We have this whole Im business now. Unfortunately for their families they’re going to pay for their sins. Jeongguk is turning into a drunken, raging lunatic. Jin and your sister are just… I don’t have fucking words for them-” You giggle before nodding at his statement.

“But there are pluses too. Y’know? Yoongi and Hyunah getting married. Taehyung and Hyejin having their baby boy. Hoseok being a forever single bachelor. Namjoon is another forever bachelor.” You mumble, lifting your fingers to count the good things, Jimin laughs before smacking your thigh gently. 

“I have so many people to protect and it’s getting to me, slowly but surely.” His eyes are filled with distress and you feel your heart clench before laying down on him. He wraps his arms around your waist as you bury your face into his neck. His cologne is wearing off, you find yourself thinking before you’re kissing over the marks you gave him just a few minutes ago. “Anything that happens, we’re a team. We’re Lions. We don’t let things get under our skin so easily.”

He nods before squeezing you tightly, “I just want us to be happy again. We didn’t have any problems before when Shin was in the play room and now that we know the Im’s killed your parents, I feel a storm coming.”

“At least they don’t know that we know.” He licks at his lips before kissing your temple, “At least they don’t know.”

The morning sun is the first thing that rouses you in the morning, before a gigantic boom jolts your body up. Jimin is quick to jump up before he’s grabbing his gun from underneath the pillow and cocking it. 

“Hey Jimin!” He hears Namjoon yell loudly from downstairs and he curses quietly before ripping the door open. Your hand finds the side drawer before you’re pulling out your own pistol you’ve become fond of. Your feet follow after him, hand grabbing at the silk of your nightgown before rapidly descending the stairs. Your husband spares a glance in your direction before smirking. There is nothing hotter to him then seeing a gun in your hands. “What happened?!” He yells as another boom goes off. 

The house shakes on its foundation before settling and you raise an eyebrow as you reach the entryway. “Jeongguk is… losing it.” Namjoon whispers before ushering you both towards the kitchen. 

“Kitten, go upstairs.” You shake your head, following after him quickly as you walk through the sitting room. His jaw tightens before stopping in his tracks, the house shakes once more with a loud crash. “We have two children in this fucking house, go upstairs and watch the babies.”

You hear Jeongguk scream loudly before Namjoon is disappearing into the kitchen. Jimin knocks his forehead to yours before kissing you gently. “Now.”

You sigh gently before nodding, “Good girl.”

Jimin is quick to run down the underground tunnel, face grimacing as the soles of his feet become grimy with dirt. There’s another boom and his ears begin to ring before furrowing his eyebrows. He reaches the double doors of the old distillery and he watches as smoke lazily exits Yoongi’s mouth before drifting up towards the ceiling. “He’s been like this for an hour already.” Yoongi tells his boss.

Jimin peaks in before sighing gently, he watches his friend since childhood light another stick of dynamite before throwing it into an old distiller. His hair is dirty, his moustache and beard beginning to grow. “Guk!” He yells before the boom shakes the floor beneath him. 

“Why didn’t you stop him?!” Jimin calls to the older black haired man who pulls from his cigarette. “I’m getting married soon, I’m not dying for his dumbass. Hyunah would sooner cut my dick off.” Jimin uncocks his gun, before walking into the room. He holds his hands out as he approaches the youngest. 

“Hey, Guk. What’re you doing man?” He doesn’t get a response as Jeongguk holds up the old stick of dynamite. “This shit has been here since the early 1900’s can you believe it still works?”

The youngest sounds absolutely exhausted, voice slurred with both tiredness and alcohol. Jimin holds out his hand before looking up at him as he gets closer. “Give me the dynamite. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Guk chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh. Hyung. If only it was that easy. Look.” He lights the dynamite before dropping it between the both of them. Jimin’s mouth falls open before jumping at Jeongguk and knocking him away from the explosion. “What’re you fucking crazy?!” He screams as he pulls him behind the metal still. 

The dynamite goes off and Jimin buries Jeongguk’s head into his chest as the explosion shakes the room. Clouds of grey smoke wafts through the room before the smell of burning enters everyone's nose. Jimin throws Jeongguk to the floor before putting his knees to his chest. “See. I can’t hurt myself.” 

Jimin grits his teeth before smacking the youngest hard across the face, he groans loudly before his head lolls back. “Again, again.”

The head of the Lions Den yells out in frustration before gripping onto Jeongguk’s black hoodie and shaking him. “You need to stop this! You’re going crazy! I can’t keep you around my kids if you act like this!”

Guk scoffs before shoving Jimin off of him, “I would never hurt the babies. Please.” He mumbles before standing up, “You’re becoming self destructive and a drunk. You need to get yourself in check, Guk. Or you’ll be going into the playroom.” He stiffens before looking down at Jimin who puts his head back to the large metal still. 

“How fucking dare you ever say that to me.” He seethes at his older brother, Jimin shrugs at a loss before putting his hands through his hair. “You better get yourself in check. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself. Next time you do some stupid shit like this, you’re going into the playroom for some hard self reflection.”

Jeongguk shakes his head before laughing, “You can’t leave me alone with her. You can’t.” 

Jimin lifts his head slowly before narrowing his eyes, “Leave you alone with who?”

“Lee. She’s everywhere, all the time.” His hands shake as he fixes his hoodie. Oh, so he was going insane. Jimin puts his head back out of frustration before sighing, “Guk, I need you back by my side! I need you to be my right hand man again. You can’t keep going this way, you’re destroying yourself.” 

Jeongguk purses his lips before pulling a bottle out of his hoodie. “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” He murmurs before walking towards the tunnel. “Take his car keys away!” Jimin yells before standing up, he smacks his forehead into the metal still before clicking his teeth. Things are becoming a downward spiral inside of this fucking house and he needs it to end.

Heels clack on the marble floor of the casino entrance. You take off your sunglasses as the staff welcome you with a bow. You spot Kirsoon in an ill fitting red vest and you sigh gently. “Kirsoon.” You call to him and his head shoots up to look at you.

“Yes Madam.” You curl your index finger before pointing to the spot in front of you. He scurries over and you hold your hand out to Yoongi who raises an eyebrow. He wordlessly reaches around before grabbing his gun and placing it in your hand. Kirsoon visibly shudders before bowing his head to you. You take in his demeanor, scared and large before you’re handing him the gun. “Take off that fucking vest and get behind me.” 

His head raises before he’s smiling. “Yes ma’am.” He grimaces at the red vest before ripping it off, displaying his strength. He steps around you before looking at Yoongi with a twinkle in his eye. Yoongi pats the tall man's arm before lighting a cigarette.

The entrance to the casino was filled with upwards of fifty staff members and you find it hard to keep track of all their faces. “We’re going to have a family meeting.” You tell them before putting your sunglasses in your purse. 

You walk past them, fingers brushing along the brass, ornate bird cages that litter the hallways before entering the casino floors. You casually weave through tables for blackjack, craps, roulette- you name it, you’ve probably got it. Your hand drifts over the green felt of a poker table before you jump up on it and cross your legs. 

You watch the staff file in before folding your arms, eyes scanning over your hard workers before clearing your throat. “We work hard, yes?” You call out to them.

“Yes, ma’am!” You hum pleased at the voracious volume.

“We’ll continue to work hard, yes?” You hum again at their answer before running your fingers over the felt table. “We’ve been open for two months and have made more money than any casino in the entirety of Seoul. Why is that?”

You look around as everyone stays silent before your eyes fall on the familiar girl that resembles a maid you once cared for. 

“Hawon’s sister, Rina. Why is that?” She lifts her head before fixing her ponytail, “Because we work hard?” Her voice is feeble and it makes you smile.

“That’s right, because we work hard and we’re the best at what we do. So to congratulate you all on working so hard, you will all be getting a gift of a raise.” You can see small smiles and determined head nods before you hear Yoongi clear his throat.

“Now that the fun stuff is out of the way, in a month we’re going to be having a Casino Night. One that goes far beyond the hours of our normal days. The theme is Roaring Twenties. There will be special admission for certain guests only. It’ll be like a family gathering.” Some staff open their mouths before nodding and you smile at them before hopping off of the poker table. “Get back to work.” You call to them before walking towards your office.

You sit down at the glass desk before Rina enters with a glass of champagne. You hum in appreciation for her kindness before pointing at the velvet armchair in front of your desk. “Casino...night?” Yoongi asks before lighting a cigarette.

“Oh yes, casino night.” You mumble before grabbing a manilla folder from your top drawer and handing it to Kirsoon, you nod to Rina and he gives her the folder. You sip your champagne before leaning back in your office chair. She opens the folder, eyebrows raised with curiosity. Pictures of the Im’s grace her eyes and Yoongi begins to smirk.

“These are the very special guests that will be coming to Casino Night. Rina will take extra care to provide everything they need. Won’t you, Rina?” She closes the folder before smiling widely. 

“Yes, Madam.”

“Good girl.” She hands the folder back before bowing her head and leaving the office. 

Yoongi jumps into the armchair, legs swinging over the arm before putting his head back. “Why’re we doing this instead of just murdering them in front of their homes?”

You smirk before looking at Kirsoon as he sits down in the second armchair. Your hands fold as you lean your elbows on to the table. “Kirsoon, you know of me, yes?” He nods to you, hands folding in his lap.

“What’s my motto?”

“You get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” You pick up your champagne glass before looking at Yoongi with a wide smile, “Get more flies.”

[sweetuality]

EPILOGUE (pt. 2)

SIMON

Lady Ruth has practically dragged us inside and into our room, "Simon! Baz! Get comfortable and settle in. I'll be downstairs making you boys some snacks."

She patted my arm, "We can all watch Mr. Bean later. Oh! Jamie loves it. He'll be back from work in an hour."

If she could, she would have hopped her way out, but I think her age can't keep up with her energized personality.

She has been like this ever since she believes that her family got reunited. Happy-go-lucky aura seeps out of her like my magic used to from my body. Like sparks from the skin pores.

I think it's something in our family after all.

I always feel like an outsider inside this house. The walls, the furniture, the rug on the floor are too expensive for me to feel a part of it. But Baz seems like he was born here.

He's wearing a three pieces suit (again) today. A shade of grey that gleams silver in the light and a black button-down with the collar buttons open. His shirt color matches his hair and he looks like he's one of the antiques decorated in this room.

He made sure I don't feel left out in his fashion ramp-walk show and dressed me up in his light blue jumper and white trousers with white lace-up shoes. He cast "Like a glove!" on the jumper and now my red wings stand out quite a contract to the rest of my (his) clothes.

"Do you think Lady Salisbury knows who I am actually?" Baz walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist.

I place my own hands on his shoulder. "You mean vampire? No. I don't think so." I don't think Lady Ruth would care though. All she cares about is how much of a gentleman Baz is.

"I meant your boyfriend." He narrows his eyes as if it's my fault he has so many secrets and I should be knowing which of them he is referring to.

I lean in to rub my nose on his cheeks. Smells of cold water. "Maybe? Maybe not?"

"Snow, will you tell her if she ever asks?" He has my tail in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers.

Will I? Probably.

Baz is kind of an award for me. A medal. A treasure. Being with him is good for my status. If I could I would have flaunted him to the entire world.

"I will, babe." I kiss him because I'm a fool and I can't resist him.

SIMON

Baz and Lady Ruth- she wants me to call her "Gran" but I'm still hesitant (maybe one day I will. I just need some time to get used to all this. To believe all this is true.) are still at the living room watching Mr. Bean and I'm at kitchen trying to find a can of cider. Jamie hasn't yet come back home from work, we saved him some egg and cress.

My phone rang in the back of my pocket. (Jamie has gifted me this new phone on my birthday. I'm so not used to this. I miss my old phone, it was fine for me. Just needed to replace the battery.)

"Penny?" I answered the phone.

"Simon Snow Salisbury! Do you even have time for me?" Her voice was half sarcasm and full anger.

Ever since she started dating Shepard, Penny and I have had less time for each other. Is this what people do? Outgrow their friendships?

She went to America with him without telling anybody. I was so mad at her. But then she got mad at me for not telling her about my family. And then we kind of nullified each other's anger.

Shepherd moved in with Penny and now he's a part-time journalist. I think he got enrolled in Penny's uni too but I'm not sure. Professor Bunce loves him and Headmistress Bunce hates him as much. And between all chaos Penny, herself hardly has any time left to catch up with me. I wanted to tell her that, but I don't want to get shouted at.

"I have all the time for you Penny. What's up?" I grab the cider can and walk out of the kitchen. I see Baz looking at me when I walk into the living room and I point him I'll be at our room.

"I was hoping we all could meet. I called Agatha too. She's busy with Niamh and doesn't wanna leave the goats alone. I guess she'll spend her Christmas with her girlfriend. But you two! I'll murder you two if you don't come."

Agatha and Niamh are the talks of the mages now. They both are taking care of the goats and a lot of people think that's what restored the peace at Watford.

Baz can't stop laughing at the irony of how Agatha and I had different preferences.

I took the stairs and walked inside our room, closing the doors behind. The room was dark, with only outside street light coming through the window to illuminate the room faintly.

"Just tell us when and where and we'll come."

I sat on the bed, taking a sip of the cider.

"Tomorrow, at my house. Shep is also going. Dad says he wants to chit-chat with him. Mum is at school so it isn't a worry. Did you know the veil lifted and my aunt visited her again to tell her not to look for her books? I think my mum will look for the books just to provoke her. Circe, I've got so much to tell you. Let's all meet! I've also got something important to announce."

"Don't tell me you're pregnant Penny!" I say, only half-joking. Penny's parents already had her when they were her age. So who knows?

"No, Merlin!" She screams so loud I had to pull away the phone to save my ears. I could hear the distant giggling of Shepard. "Just come tomorrow by the evening okay? You'll find out."

"Sure, Penny." She ends the call and I laugh. I'm happy for her. She found someone who looks at her like she's made of magic. Which is true either way.

I place the cider on the bedside table and plops on the bed. The room makes me feel like an outsider. But it also feels like it's welcoming me. A part of me feels like it missed being here all this time. Sometimes it actually feels like I belong here. Maybe I do.

I close my eyes, feeling sleepy.

Suddenly it's so cold. I shiver, bringing my wings around me to stay warm but it feels like the cold breeze is inside me. Like my blood is freezing up. My wings envelopes me tightly as a response but it feels more claustrophobic than comforting. Turning around in bed I feel my tail whipping around too. It gets so much cold so suddenly that I feel like I'm having all my nerves in my body breakdown. It's hard to open my eyes too. My lips quiver. I can't speak. I'm freezing. I'm solidifying.

"My rosebud boy." The voice echoes within me.

Rosebud boy? Natasha Grimm Pitch?

"My rosebud boy," The voice is crying, "I'm happy you're finally home."

I can't breathe. I can't open my eyes. I'm crying.

"I'm happy you're safe." I can feel the voice. It resonates within me. I had heard it before. "Simon..."

I open my eyes, tears involuntarily rolling down my cheeks. My whole body is frozen solid. And then I see her.

Golden hair and a face I recognize. Lucy. Mom?

Her hands are stretched out to touch my face but I really can't see her hand. It's like she's a streak of light. And within the light, I could hardly see the features of her face that looks so much like mine.

"We were so happy to have you, Simon. You make me so proud." She's not speaking, but I can hear her voice inside my head. My head thumps with each word. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I left you."

She's vanishing. The light is fading. I want to call out. Mom!

"I love you so much," She's leaving. No! "my rosebud boy..."

"Mom!" I found my voice hoarse and scratching down my throat harshly. I think I saw her smiling sadly before the room is back in its darkness. The coldness fades away as abruptly as it came.

But I can't stop shaking. My wings are flapping violently behind me and I'm sure I'll knock something over with my tail. I sit up, curling my knees to my chest to calm down. Mom... Lucy... She had visited me before. She came back...

[katsukiboom]

Hey lovely! I have come bearing a request! A silly one but one I’m kinda surprised I’ve never seen written before. Picture this: dabis s/o walking in and finding dabi and s/o’s cat tangled up and cats claws stuck in dabis staples. How they got like that can be up to you and how things turn out lol. I just think it would be funny. If you want anyway, if not that’s ok too. I hope you are doing well 🖤

you just don’t know how fun it was to write this whole thing though i worry that i overdid it as well - i’m just a sucker for backstory i guess aslkdfhalskdhfa i hope you enjoy it my dude!

Ko-Fi || Commissions

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If someone ever asked you if dating a villain was hard, you’d reply with a resounding ‘yes’, yet it would only be because you were dating one of the laziest, most carefree villains you knew of.

You had found each other by mere luck one late night while you were coming back from work and happened to stop by the convenience store closest to your apartment – turns out he was in sort of good terms with the manager since he always bought a lot of stuff for his friends, something you thought was very weird due to his already strange appearance. You walked in and the bell rang, making both of them turn around to look at you; your gaze was met with intense blue eyes that seemed to burn right through you.

He had said nothing as you did your thing and only tried to talk to you when you were paying your groceries, letting one or two lame pickup lines slip through his thin lips but you only brushed past him. Your mind was busy trying to comprehend how one’s skin could become so scarred and why it seemed like his cheeks would come loose at any given moment and with the wrong movement, being only parched up with many surgical staples. You shuddered at the thought of what could’ve happened to the man, but you tried your best to push the images out of your mind.

Not paying attention to him you said goodbye to the manager and the cashier and quickly resumed your walk home only to hear the automatic doors open and close again, and you prayed that the stranger wasn’t some kind of stalker. You tried to look to the side to see if you could catch a glimpse of your behind to make sure you weren’t being followed, but as you didn’t pay attention to the sidewalk in front of you your body collapsed onto something hard – a lamppost.

You dropped everything on the ground and you fell as well, a soft pain starting to crawl its way up your back as you got on your knees to start picking up your items, but then a dark figure approached you kneeled beside you. It was the stranger from before, which didn’t make you feel anywhere near relieved.

“You should be paying more attention when you’re walking,” he said quietly, his raspy voice almost making you uncomfortable. Without saying anything else he started to pick up the things with you, putting them inside the cloth bag you were using and not attempting to say anything inappropriate again, which greatly surprised you; you had already taken him as the type to be rather unable to keep his mouth shut, but by the looks of it he had only wanted to lend you a hand.

“Why are you following me?”

You blurted out the question and immediately felt dumb – there you went, making assumptions again. A soft laugh escaped his mouth as you looked at each other, his staples faintly glistening under the street lights. “You sound just like a little mouse: terrified and easy to catch,” he muttered with what seemed like a threatening expression, “but I wouldn’t feel that important if I was you, sugar. I just live down the road, two blocks ahead.” You felt offended, yes, but at the same time you were wary – you didn’t know if you could trust this guy and he only gave off creeper vibes, but you decided to trust your gut and stop pressing for answers that didn’t need answers for the time being. As you got up and picked up the bag, you were about to go home when he stood right in front of you. “Does your Highness need to be taken home as well? There are plenty of lamps on the way, you might get attacked again.”

You felt as if the whole guy wasn’t more than a big red flag – you scoffed and walked around him, walking as fast as you could to get away from the man, but something in your mind told you it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

-

You would’ve never guessed how right you were.

After that fatidic encounter, you started to casually run into him a lot more whenever you went out but you were lucky enough to spot him before he could even see you, giving you time to sneak past without being detected. Every time you saw him though, you started to notice he wasn’t really bad looking if you ignored the same clothes, the scars and staples, and you hated to admit it to yourself; the man had tried to flirt with you and followed you that night, yet even if his appearance along with his aura felt threatening you couldn’t bring yourself to be scared of him and even thought about approaching him again only to discard the idea as quickly as it had come.

That was until one day when you had an awful day at work, and you returned crying all the way home until you spotted the already familiar man leaning against the outside of the convenience store you had met him at. You had neither the strength nor the will to even hide yourself from him so you just lowered your head and walked by, hoping he would act as if you weren’t there.

You had no such luck.

“Rough day, huh?” he muttered, a half-smoked cigarette hanging from the corners of his lips. You stopped right in front of him, still looking at the ground – somehow, the air around you felt colder. “You look like shit today.”

And so, you wasted no time on retaliating. “You know what?” you started, all the built-up rage seeping through every pore of your body. “I’ve had to deal with enough bullshit for today to take even more from someone like you – I don’t know you, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want you to talk to me, I don’t understand why I keep seeing you everywhere. You creep me out, and if you think I’ll stand by and just let you do whatever the fuck you want you’re very, very wrong.”

You hadn’t even noticed you were tearing up until your vision became blurry, and you hastily wiped your eyes before looking at him again; you hated that smug expression of his more than anything, but now there was something inherently… handsome about him, and you  couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. He said nothing as he eyed you up and down and then smirked but remained silent as he pushed himself off the wall. You thought he’d approach you but instead he turned around and walked inside the store, leaving you alone in the streets feeling like shit and also embarrassed.

Sighing, you took his place against the cold bricks and slid down until you were sitting hugging your knees tightly against your body, allowing tears to freely flow once more as you buried your face on them. You weren’t sure how much time had passed until you heard the bell and then steps walking towards you, but when someone sat down next to you again you didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “I thought you could need this,” he said quietly, no trace of the usual sarcasm in his voice. Looking up, you saw the man handing you a can of beer and what seemed to be like some sort of candy, and you eyed him suspiciously before taking the items from his hand. “Drink slowly or I’ll really have to take you home.”

You didn’t listen, and that was the first time you had shared something more than words with him.

The following weeks after that encounter you learnt his name was Dabi, a man who was only a few years older than you, and you weren’t truly surprised when he nonchalantly admitted to you he was a villain working for a group called League of Villains. As if that weren’t obvious enough, you told yourself – you had never met them personally but your new acquaintance told you a bit about them: the grumpy, crusty leader, the little girl with weird teeth, a lizard and the man made of black and purple mist. From the sound of it, they wouldn’t be people that would be intimidating to you but the more he told you about them, the more you found yourself being curious about their actions, despite your strong dislike for villainy.

Behind his persona though, you found he acted soft whenever the situation called for it; one night, as you opened the window for him to crawl inside, he noticed you had been crying. When you told him it had been because you had had a nightmare he took off most of his clothes and dragged you back to bed, getting in after you and pulling you against his bare chest. “Just so you don’t feel whatever you were feeling, don’t get your hopes up,” he said as you cuddled closer to him, a few wild hairs getting stuck on his staples. His scarred skin felt rough and hard, just like the shell you knew he had built for himself.

With the same levels of disinterest, you told Dabi you liked him after only a month of knowing each other – you were fairly surprised when he told you he liked you too, and from then on he was at your place more than ever, even coming there after missions or bringing you lunch on weekends. The one thing he openly disliked about your place, he said, was your big tabby cat named Letty; you had never understood his feelings towards her since even if the cat tried to approach him and laid on her back whenever he was around he would just brush her off, ignoring her willingness to let him get closer. “She’s telling you she trusts you,” you would explain but even you didn’t know why she had trusted him so easily.

You did your best to balance maintaining your relationship secret and your public life, as you couldn’t figure out the best way to tell your friends and family that you were, in fact, dating someone who wasn’t their ideal first choice. Deciding to start by letting your two closest friends know about it, you invited them to a small fast food restaurant near your apartment – you guessed it wouldn’t go all too well, as both of them jumped out of their seats as soon as you told them. “Is he forcing you into it?” they questioned. “Does he hurt you? Do you need help?”

“It’s nothing like that,” you explained with calm and a little blush crept up your cheeks as you spoke about him and how you had met, how he seemed to have a soft spot for his friends, how he always took care of you when you needed it and how Letty had trusted him so easily. You wanted nothing more than to feel their support, but you were only met with distant gazes and confused expressions. “You guys… still don’t like it, don’t you?”

“I mean,” one of them started, her voice shaking just enough for you to notice; “it is unexpected. You were always so against them and now you’re dating them no less. I think we need time to come to terms with it, that’s all.”

You came back home that day feeling as down as you could be, almost dragging your feet along the concrete sidewalks until you reached your building. When you got to your door you sighed and put your forehead against the cold wood, trying to make it calm the headache that was starting to grow and appease the unease that reigned in your heart.

That’s when you heard it coming from the inside – a gasp, a shout and a thud, all consecutive sounds that could only meant something was happening. For a moment you doubted whether to open the door or wait to see if Dabi came home to take care of the problem in case it was another villain who had found out about you two, but when his own voice reached you after a brief silence you were puzzled.

“I guess we got to stay like this now,” he said with annoyance. “Stupid cat.”

Opening the door, you were witness to one of the weirdest sights ever – he was sitting on the couch with his arm around your cat. Letty looked at you with pleading eyes and you followed her little leg to see her paw right on Dabi’s cheek, her claws having gotten stuck in two of his staples. She had managed to use enough strength to even open his wounds just a little bit though no blood came out of them, and you now looked straight at him, his bright blue eyes looking back with a mix of worry and a bit of anger. “Dabi, what… what happened?” you asked trying your best not to smile, not quite believing that what you were seeing was real at all. “Are you okay?”

You approached him and kneeled in front of him, looking at the injury a bit closer. “Your damn pet tried to get up on my head and I stopped her. That was all that happened.” He closed his mouth and looked away from you, but even with his scars you could tell he was blushing by the way his eyes averted you. You weren’t sure, however, if it was out of embarrassment or anger. “Could you please get her off me before I turn her into a burnt chicken nugget?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you replied jokingly, but the menacing gaze he gave you reminded you he would have no remorse on doing so. “Okay, no need to get all worked up,” you muttered before you reached out and cupped his free cheek. “These things can happen, you know? It was an accident as well.” Carefully, you pulled Letty away from him and tried your best not to look at the little flap his loose skin was making as you worked. When she was finally free, she ran away and hid under your kitchen table, her eyes and ears alert in case he decided to come after her. He fixed his cheek and then faced you, his

None of you said anything for a moment until you couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out in laughter, and he only looked at you like you were crazy. “What’s the deal with you now?” he asked, now no longer trying to appear threatening but only putting on a serious expression. “Did that entertain you that much?”

He looked so unamused and it only made you laugh further, even when you noticed the cup of water that was now lying on the ground and that you were sure had fallen as he fought against your loving pet. You leaned back on the couch and kept laughing, your earlier worries now beginning to fade away for the time being, but just as you were about to get back up Dabi’s body towered over your own as he kept you locked in place.

You shut your mouth almost immediately; thinking he’d be annoyed with the whole situation you tried to wrap your arms around his neck to bring him down but he pinned them down with a single hand, demonstrating once more his muscles weren’t only for show. “I wonder,” he started, his smoky breath hitting your face and making you gulp and shiver all at once. How he could be this enticing without even trying, you didn’t even know. “Would you be laughing the same way once you can’t walk tomorrow?”

Swallowing whatever words you could’ve said to that, you only managed to get a few weak words through your lips as his face descended to your neck and his tongue gave a long lick. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be, sweetheart.”

[langdxn]

Could you do Michael and spanking kink? Like maybe the reader has been moody and bratty and he's had enough so he punishes her by spanking her? (I'm feeling either Sojourn Michael or Outpost but it's up to you!) 🍭✨

OOFT I feel attacked 🥵🥵🥵 I’m sure this has been done to death with Outpost!Michael but today is a serious missing Outpost day sooo… thank you for the great request anon!

You had been chained up for 3 hours and 43 minutes.

Not that you were counting. There wasn’t much else to do with your hands suspended from the ceiling, wearing nothing but your unflattering grey-assigned cotton underwear.

By the time Langdon’s overpriced boots chinked across the chamber floor, your tolerance meter had burst its limits.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this vision?” He purred behind you, inching his way toward you at an agonisingly slow pace.

“Like you care,” you spat, shaking a restrained wrist in frustration.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” His words dripped like honey most days ever since he arrived at the Outpost, but in this moment they were more like petrol on a house fire.

“Venable caught me touching myself,” you tutted, rolling your eyes at the words rolling off your tongue. You hardly knew Langdon, you hadn’t even been called for your interview with him yet. Divulging your activities that were meant to stay behind closed doors was yet another stab at your self esteem.

“Touching yourself should never be a crime, least of all in here,” he murmured, soft fingertips ghosting over the vicious welts on your shoulders accompanied by a low hiss. “I’m aware of her abuse of power in this Outpost and it will not endure.”

“And what are you gonna do about it, huh?” You sassed. “If she doesn’t get into your precious Sanctuary, once you’re gone from here she’ll murder the lot of us.”

He circled your form and arrived in front of you, cocking his head curiously as he eyed you from head to toe.

“Once I leave here, everybody will be dead and that won’t be Venable’s decision.”

“So leave me to die then, for fuck’s sake,” you cursed, snapping your head away from him.

“You seem… reserved.”

Michael raised a curious hand to cup your cheek, dried tear tracks embossed across your countenance. You snatched your face away with a scowl.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Taken aback, he spun on his heels and returned to circling you, hands clasped studiously behind his back as he consumed your vulnerability with hungry eyes.

The devil on your shoulder persuaded you to sneak a fleeting glance at him, his Victorian elegance seeping through every pore as he swaggered around the room. His flowing coat billowed behind him, his golden curls spilling over his shoulders.

You twitched your legs together to restrain the arousal burning in your core.

“I think now would be a perfect time to conduct your questioning,” his words snapped you out of your daydream with a bump.

“I’m not exactly in the position to answer questions,” you laughed, gesturing toward the heavy shackles digging into your wrists.

“I’d say you aren’t exactly in the position to disobey orders.”

“Then get the fuck on with it, yeah? I’ve got a hot date in half an hour and I haven’t even done my makeup yet.”

Michael chuckled, clearly your sarcasm rinsing like water off a duck’s back. He stopped pacing beside you, holding your gaze with his piercing blue eyes and that oh-so-tantalising burning red eyeshadow accenting his eye sockets.

“Why did you touch yourself?”

“Because I’m an innocent little virgin who’s never been touched,” you lied. Michael raised an eyebrow, reared his hand and smacked a flat palm onto your bare buttock, knocking your legs from beneath you and leaving you dangling from the excruciating restraint of the chains.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” You yanked your hand in the vain hope you could rub the point of impact.

“If you lie, I will know. If you hedge, I will know. If you act like an obstinate brat, I will know. And so will your ass.”

“Go fuck yourself, Langdon,” you shot him a disgusted scowl.

“Now now, Y/N, isn’t that what got you here in the first place?” He chuckled under his breath, stepping toward you until his lips hovered dangerously close to yours. “I’ll ask you again. Why did you touch yourself?”

“Why the hell should I tell you?”

The back of his hand slapped your bare skin again, this time his jagged rings dug searing scratches into your behind.

“Fuck, are you enjoying this or something?”

You bucked your hips in anticipation of the next shock, but it didn’t arrive. Michael dipped his head into your neck, his soft breaths setting your hairs on end.

“Did you touch yourself over me?” He whispered. 

You scoffed, barely containing a sarcastic laugh.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Langdon.”

Smack.

“What the— what makes you think I’m lying?”

“Your panties are grey cotton, Y/N. I didn’t need to think.”

You craned your neck down and saw what he saw. Your panties definitely weren’t an innocent shade of pale grey anymore.

“Okay fine,” you conceded with a huff. “I was thinking about you, you happy now?”

He hummed contentedly.

“You’re the first hot guy I’ve seen in months. I’m stuck in here with Gallant and Andre, Timothy’s got Emily and I’m getting a little desperate.”

You searched his face for a reaction, but he clung to his vacant grin.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He sighed, stepping back to look you up and down again, linking his hands behind his back.

“We’ll continue this conversation at another time, Y/N. Thank you for your spirited participation.”

As he bowed slightly and paced to the exit, you called out.

“Mr— Mr Langdon?”

He turned without a word, fixed smile still in place.

“Thank you.”

“For what, kitten?” He cooed.

“For bringing me here in the first place. The Cooperative never told me why I was taken from my family the day the bombs dropped. One minute, there’s two men in black knocking at my door and the next, they’re bundling me in the back of an SUV. They never told me who saved me, who decided I was worth bringing here in the first place, so I’ve gotta thank somebody.”

A genuine smile crept to the corner of his lips.

“So thank you. Before I die in here, thank you.”

He raised a hand, clicked his fingers and the shackles at your wrists released you instantly, your weakened arms dropping like lead at your sides.

“Trust me, Miss Y/N, you won’t die in here. I won’t allow it.”

[bubblyani]

Lunch Break

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar One Shot

Rating: Mature (18+) 😈🔥

Author’s Note: A steamy Lucifer Smut piece with a fun plot? Here we are. This certainly left me fanning myself with some bonus softness. Enjoy!

The stair railing felt cold in your hand, yet you held on to it firmly, walking down to LUX. Strange, you thought, of how the club when all the floors and furniture were actually visible, contrary to when it was jam packed with the crowds. No matter how many times you stepped in there, it never got old. And the feeling always refreshed you.

Suddenly the loud growl in your stomach made you sigh with frustration.

“Well well well...look who decided to drop by...”

You smiled widely upon hearing that voice, as you caught the sight of the woman at the bar.

“HEYYYY!” you cried with enthusiasm, “The one who I always get lost in ...” you said, warmly extending your arms.

Unimpressed, she shot you a blank stare with a dose of dead silence.

“Maze...get it?” You said, still smiling. Yet, nothing.

Embarrassed, you sighed, “Well I tried” you said, looking down.

Only to hear Mazikeen Smith burst out into laughter.  

Shaking your head, you chuckled, “Yep, real funny what you did there, good one”

Clapping her hands, her laughter continued, “Oh...you should have seen your face” she said, in the midst of her laughter.

“Ah well... at least someone’s happy” you smiled, walking over to the bar as her laughter died down.

“Oh no no...” you quickly refused when Maze placed two glasses on the table, “...no drinks today, I’m on my lunch break...” you said, looking around, fingers tapping with impatience “although do you have something to eat? Or even a good place nearby? I’m starving...”

“Well if you like Tacos then there is one...” Maze replied, pouring into one glass as a result.

“Great...” you nodded, still looking around “by the way, is Lucifer here?”

“No...”

“Oh okay...then would you mind if I go upstairs for a bit?” You said, leaning in, “I left something there and I need to get it back”

“Oh no I meant, he’s not here. But he is upstairs”

“Oh...oh! Uhhh....do you know if he...” your voice grew soft into a whisper, “...has company?”

“I wouldn’t know...I’m not his secretary” Maze replied coolly. You nodded.

“Yeah of course ...” you said, “of course” you repeated, lost in thought.

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

“Lucifer”

Heels clicked as you slowly entered the Penthouse, looking from side to side, cautious as a deer. Though it was midday, heaven knew what plans Lucifer Morningstar had, especially when he was at home. Maybe he had company, perhaps raising the roof with a beautiful woman. Shuddering, you tried to get the image out of your head for it somehow disturbed you.

“I’m not jealous, I’m not jealous” you muttered accidentally to yourself, taking a few steps forward.

“Lucifer!” Your voice grew louder, “Where are you?”

“Over here darling!”

His sudden reply echoed from the other corner.

“Do you want me to wait here?” You cried back, nervous to find him.

“No its perfectly fine...over here Y/N! Come on!”

Strutting over with a straightened back, you entered his bedroom which surprisingly looked neat, leading  you to the bathroom.

“Lucifer? Are you in here-Oh my god!”

“Mentioning Dad is really not necessary...”

Clutching your chest, your jaw dropped the moment you set eyes on Lucifer. Especially when he stepped out mid shower, completely and utterly naked. Steam from the shower surrounded his frame, making his entrance quite dramatic. He stood there with a smile on his face. Lean yet sculpted to perfection, his muscular frame and height was proportionate, generous at all the right places.  

“Y/N...so delighted to see you” he said happily. You looked up, maintaining your eye level with his face.

“Yeah...” you replied, “so am I...” eyes slowly gazing in to the shower. You heard him chuckle low.

“Oh my...”You heard him chuckle low, “Wandering eye, eh?”

“You know it...” sarcasm was evident in your response, “I mean-” you closed your eyes in frustration, taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry I was just...making sure I wasn’t interrupting anything...” you said, pressing your lips, “...with anyone” your voice grew soft with embarrassment.

“Well...the only thing you were interrupting was my steamy shower” he said in a matter of fact tone, which made you chuckle in return. Your chuckle made him smile instantly. It was not rare for him to take silent pride whenever he managed to make you laugh.

“Anyways...” you cleared your throat, “I left one of my bags here, if you can point me to it I’ll be well on my way” you said while putting your hands together pleadingly.

“Of course...” he said, “but let me finish up first...”

“Yeah sure ...” you nodded, about to turn, still keeping your head up high.

“Unless you want to join me for a quick refresher?” He purred, with inviting eyes. This certainly made you laugh out loud.

“HA! yeah right...I’d be down with that...” you laughed, irony seeping with each word you uttered, “Count me in and- wha!”

You cried out in surprise when you felt a tug on the hand. Pulling you over, Lucifer managed to catch you in his arms under the hot running water of the shower cubicle. Playful laughter erupted from him at the succession of his plan.

Fully wet in your work attire, you couldn’t help but sigh at this childish attempt. But then again it was quite hilarious. So you were not exactly mad.

Chuckling, you wiped the water off the closed eyes.

“Not exactly the way I hoped this would happen

 ehehe-” you opened your eyes.

You paused, as you found him staring at you.

He stared with fascination, he stared with intense fascination. So it was no surprise when your cheeks heated up, turning bright red. This was certainly new.

“Uh...Um...” you felt your breathing increase, you felt your heartbeat agree wholeheartedly to it.

Before you could react any further, his face was a mere few centimeters away from you. As if you could count each and every pore in his beautiful face. Before you could even consider it, his hands rested on your shoulders, pushing you up against the shower wall, surprising you with his lips latched on to your very own.

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

The first time Lucifer Morningstar ever kissed you, it was carved in your memory oh so clearly, that you were certain you’ll remember it forever.

New Year’s Eve of last year.

Comfy-at-home would normally be your celebratory mode during this time, but ever since you got to know Lucifer, you decided to try out New Year’s Eve in the midst of the nightlife instead.

You clearly forgot about the tradition of the New Year’s kiss, that it suddenly felt quite awkward to look around for anyone or wait for someone to come over.

So instead of looking desperate, you took matters onto your own hands, jumping up and down, joyfully screaming the countdown, hoping to infect the hype and hope for a better year for everyone.

So it was certainly a unexpected when Lucifer suddenly appeared before you, swooping in to kiss you on the lips, guiding you to the new year in style.

“What was that for?” You asked breathlessly.

“Well I’ve always been curious...” he replied casually, “...you can’t really blame me now, can you?”

You smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

“Happy New Year Lucifer!”

“And a very Happy New Year to you too Y/N”

You were always grateful for that evening. Honored in fact. Not only did he kept you company, but also the fact he was respectful enough to kiss you at an appropriate setting. He helped you, but with a bonus on the side. And you certainly did not complain.

But today, in the shower, it was unexpected.

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

Regardless of the flirty banter you two shared, you never expected him to kiss you, again. Especially not this way, without any purpose. You couldn’t help but wonder as he kept kissing you.

“Lucifer…”

You broke away with great difficulty, for his kisses were simply magnetic. It was just as you remembered, but more passionate. His lips maybe wet from the shower, but the magnetism still remained.

“Mmm..New Year’s Eve…taking a trip down memory lane?”

With the number of passionate encounters he had in his belt, you were pleasantly surprised by him remembering that.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Well...” he hesitated, “New Years Eve seem too far to wait for...”

“No I mean..I thought you were a man of your word”

He raised his eyebrows, “Of course I am” he looked slightly offended, and concerned, “W-What do you mean?”

You inhaled deeply:

“Well..I thought we were gonna shower together...”   you said, “so...why aren’t we showering together?” You asked, a mischievous smile forming in your face.

Eyes widened, Lucifer broke into a low, lustful chuckle.

“Oh you little minx!”

He said, as he backed off, gazing at you with a whole new perspective.

For a split second you enjoyed the fact he searched for an excuse to kiss you. For a slight moment you were reminded of the exciting opportunity that had fallen on your figurative lap. So it was no surprise you decided to allow your playful side come into the light.

Truthfully, it was not often that you got to be in this position with Lucifer Morningstar. This position of him being this keen on you. So why not? The discoveries will be new and the pleasures will be uplifting enough, you both might probably reminisce about it with a laugh over glasses of whiskey one fine day.

Chuckling in response, you pushed yourself off from the tile wall with grace. You were very surprised of the confident aura you were carrying, despite the fact you were completely wet in your clothes.

“Mmm let’s see...”

Turning towards the shower head, you allowed your view to be filled the sight of all the various bottles of shampoo and shower gels and other body care products.

“Damn...look at all this stuff!”

Lucifer however, did not know what exactly you exclaimed for, given the fact he seemed to be quite occupied as he stood behind you, with his hands on your hips.

“Yes ...damn indeed” he replied seductively.  

“These look so European, and expensive. How much did you have to pay to get these shipped here?”

“Don’t remember, don’t care...” he responded in an instant, eyes still on your back, “What I do care is how gorgeous this skirt looks on you ...mmmm”  he chuckled, “Where did you buy this? And can I get you more?” His warm breath landed on your ear while he whispered.

“Oh wow...” you giggled, feeling ticklish, “...honestly I ...ahh...don’t...remember” you heard yourself softly moan for his lips did more than talk, resting them behind your ear, kissing your neck with enthusiasm.

“Well I hope you remember...eventually” he said, against your skin, surprising you as he began to unzip the skirt, pulling the zipper further down enough, making you gasp as it pooled around your heels.

“Ah...correction, it’s not just the skirt that’s gorgeous ” Lucifer added. You smiled to yourself. Hot water flowed down your body like a cascade, directly coming into contact with your bare legs while the shower gel you poured slowly descended into the loofah. But it became quite the difficult task, especially when his hands kept your waist company. Dipping them inside your top, he allowed his fingers to run over your bare stomach that clenched from his touch. His lips on your neck, his fingers on your waist, you squeezed the loofah with much frustration for he had trapped you with pleasure. Your hand clenched tighter the moment you realized his fingers sneakily crawled inside your panties.

“Ah uh!” You gripped his wandering hand, turning back to him, “it’s time to lather up” you said, your smile and tone with equal playfulness.

Your eyes were certainly grateful  for being allowing to witness the perfection of a build Lucifer possessed. And your hands were impatient to explore it with soapy bubbles. Inching closer, you accidentally began to lather his chiseled abs.

“Mmm... let me make myself useful...” he purred, holding on to your now clearly see-through chiffon top. When he began to unbutton it, as each button was set free, you felt more butterflies, but you did not dare show it.

“Oh my Y/N...” he breathed, the moment the top opened to reveal your wet black lace bra, “It’s like you planned to come see me”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself...” you teased, with a mischievous smile. Chuckling, he confidently proceeded to pull it down, but your tensed frame stopped him. You pouted playfully, “Hey...I’m not done with you yet,” you indicated his torso, “I just getting starte- mm”

Shushing you with his lips, Lucifer kissed you with intensity. Upon knowing how his lips broke down your defenses, he easily took advantage, taking your top off.

“Now...As much as I love this on you...I certainly prefer it off...right now” he breathed into your ear, continuing to kiss your neck later on, effectively pulling you close.

“Quite decisive...” you chuckled, lathering his chest as you did, “why am I not surprised? Ahh...” you winced as he bit your earlobe softly. Stretching yourself, you suddenly felt your bra loosen up. And that was when you realized where his hand actually was.

Feeling a bit more adventurous, you managed to switch sides with him, pulling him under the shower. Your plan worked as the running water blocked his view, allowing you to peel the bra off with ease.

When he finally wiped his eyes, taking one step forward, his eyes saw nothing but you standing there, topless in just your lace panties and heels.

“My! It was certainly just as I imagined”

Quite frankly you had a hard time believing all that he said until now. And it was even far more difficult to comprehend his lustful gaze was on you, and how it didn’t leave.

“And you are certainly full of surprises today” you said, casually bending down to remove your wet panties, “Will you help me over here?”

“Oh? Oh...”

The reality was not what he expected when you handed him the loofah instead of your panties.

“No matter...” he said, “I’m an optimist” he added, licking his lips.

Your hands seemed to be stuck on to his muscular build, washing off the soapy lather. Pumping the loofah,  Lucifer extended it towards your own thirst filled body. Where would he start from? You wondered.

“Here...” he said, as he started rubbing the loofah on your neck, “it’ looks quite dirty...”

“Mmmm...” you hummed, “I highly doubt that...ah!”

“Stay still Y/N” he sounded stern, but he was enjoying it, you could tell. Biting your lower lip, you complied. The loofah was thorough with his guidance, moving over to your collarbones, and then to your arms. Eagerly you lifted your arms up the moment he was finished with them, conveniently moving over to your breasts. Stomach clenched again with frustration, you felt the region between your thighs tighten when you badly wished it was his hands doing the work instead. And the fact you could not help but admire his handsomeness never got old.

However, your suppressed moans escaped your lips to your dismay.

“Alright, front all done...” he said, loofah ending up on your stomach, “turn around it’s time for the bac-”

“ You sure you’re done?” You blurted out to your own surprise. Your body simply couldn’t take it, for it was being  teased.

Handing the loofah to you, Lucifer held your hand tightly.

“Y/N...I don’t do this often with you but...” he began,

“Oh no...not that ...”

“What is that you truly desire, right now?”

Suddenly all sounds around you muted and you could hear nothing but your own thoughts, and the loudest one was what you said out loud:

“I want you...to take me..right now....ah shit!”

Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you looked down. It seems that your body and mind certainly did acted out to confess their innermost desire.

“Sorry ...that was far fetched” you said meekly.

“Well don’t be...” Lucifer said, pulling your chin up to face him,

“ cause that just correlated with mine ...perfectly...”

Completely fazed by what you just heard, you looked at him with utter shock. You were also happy, overjoyed the fact Lucifer Morningstar was attracted to you this way.

And in turn, of course you felt more aroused.

Tossing the loofah aside, this time you took the leap, stretching yourself up to kiss him. Chuckling in to the kiss with a victorious feeling, Lucifer moved you to the shower head, allowing it to wash all the lather away. Your prayers were answers as he finally placed one palm on your left breast, cupping your left butt cheek with the other.

Given his freedom to explore as he wished, he certainly wasn’t joking of his mutual desire. His hand was generous, and worked with much focus. Palm running over, you inhaled into the kiss as his thumb encircled the nipple, pulling it lightly afterwards. No other way to release your frustrations, your thighs could do nothing but press themselves together.

Breaking away, his eyes caught the sight of your struggle downstairs, inciting a low chuckle of his pleasure.

“Oh darling...” he said, against your lips as he held  you by the waist, “let me...take care of that”

Bending his knees, you held his hair as his lips attacked your stomach with fierce kisses, sending you into a whimsy, because as those lips traveled down, you knew what would become.

“No!” You exclaimed, pulling him up by the shoulders with desperation, “You shouldn’t...get your knees ...” you said to his surprised face. As much as you wanted to deny this, you were even more tempted to sink to the floor yourself. You were more tempted to tend to the evident erection his body had adorned. To taste his need, to satisfy it.

Except, your shoulders were pulled back up.

Cupping your face with one hand, Lucifer looked into your eyes with intensity.

“...and neither should you..”

You gasped, when you felt his other hand suddenly cup the region between your thighs. Involuntarily, your hand grabbed onto his manhood in response.

If this were to be done standing, so be it.

And so two hands began a conversation, with the language of aroused genitalia. Lucifer’s fingers gained familiarity with your heat quite easily, massaging the inner folds. Your own hand was also occupied, for his shaft certainly showed off its endowment as you fondled it, moving your grip up and down, savoring it as it was finally in your possession. Looking up at him, your lips parted with a moan the moment he inserted two digits inside your slit, working his way on you. It was quite the activity, watching each other as you pleasured one another, under the showers that can be described hotter than hell. A part of you wanted to make flirty remarks during, but your body didn’t give you the energy nor the satisfaction to multitask any further.

Weakened by his fingers, you leaned against him.

“Fuck!” You breathed, eyes still on him, “I’m close...” as your thumb ran over his tip.

Suddenly, his expression turned a bit more serious than before, which surprised you even more when he stopped, fingers retracting out of you instantly.

“Sorry love...” he said, turning off the water, “...but shower time is definitely over”

Eyes widened, you looked back at the shower head, which suddenly lost its water flow.

“What do you mean- Oh!”

Lucifer’s passionate kisses attacked you as you turned back. Releasing his now very erect shaft, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck, kisses deepening quicker than expected once again.

Lifting you up with much ease, your legs were wrapped tightly around him as he stepped out of the cubicle, carefully moving over to the bedroom.

Two wet bodies fell on the mattress, ruining the clean sheets but it didn’t matter to anyone. Spreading your legs wide, Lucifer climbed on top of you, coming in between them. Pinning your hands over your head with one hand, his forehead pressed against yours while he slowly inserted himself in you. You cried out in pure pleasure, for you couldn’t believe how it went in so smooth, how he fitted in you so well, how you felt so alive. Seemingly aroused by your reaction, he kissed your neck, leaving hickeys there as he began to move. Hickeys turned to kisses again, traveling down to your collarbone. It then travelled over to the cleavage line, around the lines of your breasts, licking the water off your soft skin. You moaned as he did not forget to enclose his mouth over your yet hardened nipples, suckling them harder and longer. Simultaneously the stubble in his cheeks grazing over your skin sent massive goosebumps.

“Lucifer I-Ahh!”

Crying his name out loud certainly did nothing, but beckon his lips over to yours, kissing you yet again. And you did not complain about it. Not one bit. If eternity was to be spent with your lips against his, you won’t bat an eyelid. Entwining his fingers with yours, his speed increased, his kisses deepened.

And the same was to be said of your levels of pleasure.

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

“You know...I really wish I could wear one of your suits to work, but I’m also  pretty sure people are gonna ask questions”

You said, as you stood in front of the piano, watching Lucifer play it with feeling.

His suggestive raised eyebrows clearly showed he did not mind you actually trying.

Groaning in frustration, you walked up to him, “But seriously though, my clothes are drenched ...and there’s no time to dry them off...” you said, wearing one of his silk bathrobes, “Plus...my lunch time is almost over and I’m fucking starving”

“Now more than ever eh?” Lucifer winked with a flashy smile. Shaking your head, you chuckled. He was not wrong. Sex with Lucifer was simply incredible. And the fact it happened unexpectedly made it even more intense.Your mind was made up, he was the best you ever had. Hands down.

“If I admit it, will you solve everything, pretty please?” You said, leaning against the piano, which made him stop playing.

“Oh come now Y/N...”he said, getting up, “if it makes you feel better...I ordered you some lunch. It’ll be here soon..”

Your jaw dropped with surprise.

“Really?” Your enthusiasm was akin to a happy child, “Aww... thanks Lucifer” you said, holding his hand involuntarily, touched by his sweet gesture.

“You’re very welcome darling” he said, holding yours back tightly,

“But in all seriousness...” he added, “Why don’t you play Hooky?”

You scoffed with even more surprise.

What is going on today?

“What? Me? hooky?” You said“But I’ve-”

“Never done that before? I know ...I can tell...” he said with a teasing look “so...why not today?” He asked with gusto.

“Uhhh...” you hesitated, “I don’t know man...”

“Come on now! We can watch some tv, maybe even do some cuddling like those sappy couples do during...” he said, as he sat on the couch , tapping the spot next to him invitingly. What’s going on with him? You wondered.

“Uh..fine ...” you sighed, grabbing your phone from your bag before you finally sat next to him. Lucifer watched with excitement as you dialed the number, placing the phone on your ear.

“Hey Lin...Hi...I’m sorry but uh...” you pressed your lips, “I’ll have to take a half day today. I’m not feeling so good ...yeah ...” you nodded, “No no! I’ll be fine by tomorrow, no biggie! okay...thanks. Yeah bye!”

Hanging up, you looked at your enabler, who grinned widely.

“Happy?”

He chuckled with a nod, “Oh Overjoyed... actually”

“Well don’t be ...” you said, crossing your legs while sticking out your tongue, “The devil made me do it”

“Yes...” Lucifer said, with a proud look, “Yes I did”

Shaking your head, you shoved his usual silly metaphors away.

Minutes went by, and Lucifer watched you with fascination as you enthusiastically clapped by the sight of cartoons on television. Which made it easier for him to casually wrap his arm around you during, bringing you close.

As surprised as you were, it was nothing compared to all that you experienced today. His arms brought you warmth, it honestly felt fantastic to be in his arms. To be held this way.

“You know what?” You began, “this does feel nice”

Turning your head to him, you pressed your nose against his neck, inhaling the scent.

“You seriously have some really dope shower gel tho”

Lucifer smiled, “Only the best for Lucifer Morningstar”

You smiled back. When he looked at you with a quizzical expression, you realized you’ve been staring at him for long, too long in fact.

Clearing your throat, you looked back over to the tv.

“What?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Nothing...” you replied , with a soft smile.

Suddenly, you felt strange. An overwhelming sense of warmth engulfed you whole. You felt it just by looking at his face, just because you were there with him.

Suddenly he felt more precious to you than ever before.

“You’re a good guy Lucifer...” you found yourself say, “...at least to me”

Leaning in, you gave him a kiss on his stubbled cheek. This kiss definitely surprised him more, given the expression he wore.

The ding of the elevator made both your heads turn, for the doors opened, revealing a lanky young man with some bags.

“Delivery for Mr. Morningstar”

“Ah your lunch...splendid” Lucifer got up in an instant. With your hands on the sofa, you watched him walk over to the man with a greeting and some cash in hand. And you could not help but watch it with a smile.

Showing off the bags of takeout, Lucifer Morningstar took a bow as you clapped in appreciation.

“Congratulations!” You said, “This has definitely been the best lunch break ever!”

——————————————————

Check My LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[toomanyf4ndoms7]

Things learned about Raiden in intro dialogues part 2: Injustice boogaloo.

There probably won’t be as much for this one since there are a few recycled lines.

Without further ado, let us begin!

Vs Sub Zero:

He believes That their Kombat brought them to this universe.

Vs Swamp Thing:

He wants Swamp thing to aid in the realms protection and ,when he is declined, warns him that they must fight together or he will die alone.

Vs Cyborg:

He isn’t very knowledgeable about the universe he’s in but believes that vengeance has hardened Cyborgs heart.

He seeks allies against Shinnok.

Vs Catwoman:

He wonders why He and her must fight.

HE IS FREE OF MORTAL TEMPTATION (sorry, I just love that line so much)

He swears he will return what she has stolen.

Vs Flash:

He thinks Barry has stolen lightning from the Elder Gods.

He makes clear that He wants allies not minions.

Vs Green Lantern:

He still has visions of the og timeline and has mentioned this to Hal.

Vs Harley Quinn:

Remarks that in all the realms He has never seen anyone like her.

Is not a sorcerer/Wizard.

Vs Batman:

He warns him that his life as Batman darkens his soul and that he would spend eternity in the netherrealm if he continues.

Offers him the aid of the White Lotus.

Vs Red Hood:

Warns him that the Lazarus pit corrupts the realms life force.

Notes that Jason’s sarcasm only hides his despair.

Vs Superman:

He once respected Superman after they fought together in mk vs dc but that changed after seeing him in this realm

Vs The Joker:

He describes Jokers evil as seeping from every pore.

Knows that not even the Elder Gods can heal Jokers mind.

Vs Atrocitus:

Sees Atrocitus as a beast.

Admits to him that the pain of Liu Kangs loss still haunts him.

Vs Gorilla Grodd:

He sees him as a dirty beast.

Threatens to drop Grodds head at the end of his throne.

Vs Cheetah:

Notices that Cheetahs power comes from divine hands.

Vs Deadshot:

Shows off his wit by telling deadshot his gun skills don’t match those of Erron Black.

Calls him a dishonourable assassin.

Vs Poison Ivy:

Tells her that she has stolen the Greens power.

Would rather banish her to the netherrealm than receive a kiss from her.

Vs Starfire:

She reminds Him of Queen Sindel.

Describes her heart as “Pure as the Jinsei.”

Vs Black Manta:

Sees Manta as irredeemable.

Is aware of the effects of lightning has on water.

Vs Supergirl:

Sees her untapped potential.

Vs Green Arrow

After Ollie says he has the power of love Raiden remarks that he will be a worthy opponent. I’m guessing that was sarcasm but either way it’s entertaining.

Vs Doctor Fate:

Mainly recycled lines.

Vs Blue Beetle:

Apparently the Elder Gods want Raiden to bring Beetle to Earthrealm.

Vs Firestorm:

Believes the Shaolin would welcome them.

Vs Aquaman:

He remarks that It is unwise to fight the God Of Thunder.

Knows Aquamans real name.

Vs Black Canary:

Notes that her wisdom is worthy of the Shaolin.

She also reminds Him of Queen Sindel.

Vs Darkseid:

He Realises that Darkseids evil threatens all realms and swears to end it.

Vs Wonder Woman:

Recycled lines again.

Vs Black Adam:

Comments on Adams Hubris being his undoing.

Vs Captain Cold:

Responds to Snarts blunt threat of punching Him in the face with extreme Doubts.

Vs Robin:

Calls out Damian on bringing Bruce only sorrow by leaving.

Has only known Damian for four seconds and is already tired of his bragging.

Vs Scarecrow:

Recycled lines yet again.

Vs Bane:

Has knowledge of Kano apparently recruiting Bane into the Black Dragon. He vows to not allow the Clan to corrupt the world.

Vs Braniac:

Vows to return the worlds Braniac has “collected.”

Vs Raiden:

Wonders if the fight between them is Shinnoks doing.

Raiden mainly has five different types of intro dialogue:

I am the God Of Thunder and this isn’t a boast it’s a fact.

What Elder God did you anger to make your realm become like this?

You remind me of people back home.

I miss My friends.

I need your help, you in?

Part one here

[real-fakedoors]

under leaves so green - CHPT 9 - Miraculous Ladybug

After the Dupain-Cheng family purchases a flower shop around the block from the Agreste mansion, Chat Noir frequents the spot in search of company from the manager-but-not-really Marinette. Beneath the mask, Adrien starts to struggle with how cute she looks in that green apron. (AKA: the not-really flower shop AU where basically everything is the same, but Marinette is extra stressed by her job and Adrien tries to be supportive)

Crossposted on AO3 and FF.net

Chapter 9: The Hummingbird Flower

In which, Adrien and Marinette are both very excited for their date, and Chat Noir decides he can't wait until tomorrow to see her.

We apologize: your regularly scheduled Marichat programming has been interrupted by a surprise guest appearance.

Marinette had never enjoyed her work so completely.

Sure, it was hard and laborious as ever, but she could practically feel the happiness seeping into her pores with the light of the sun. Every breath came easy, every customer seemed pleasant, each order was seamless, and all of her plants smiled brightly back at her. Her brash Banks’ roses were a magnet of attention, lustrous rubies beneath a cloudless sky. Subtly even seemed a quiet grace in the form of her painter’s paradise of hydrangeas or by her terracotta beheld boxwoods. Within, Marinette’s heart was a hummingbird, and the greenhouse seeped with the lush overgrowth of peaceful fullness.

It felt like she had forgotten how to frown.

Her phone had been buzzing all day, and Adrien’s name was a frequent one that came across the screen. In fairness, he hadn’t been the one to text her originally; their group text was blowing up with Alya’s planning, only to be derailed almost immediately by Nino and Adrien. As it happened, Marinette didn’t a bit. Heck, her phone could fall into a bag of topsoil and be crushed by the delivery truck, and she was certain her mood still would not be hampered.

With respect to the conversation, Marinette wasn’t able to contribute much. She was constantly busy with the demands of her job, but she appreciated that her friends didn’t fault her for her radio silence. It was simple and nice, to peek at the screen occasionally when a customer headed out the door or between restocking the shelves. Alya had been the one to initiate the four-way chat today by sending a picture of the Louve from the street - why she was around that part of town, Marinette hadn’t a clue - and pushing the La Nuit des musées idea onto all of them, but since then the conversation had degraded to mostly dumb humor and well-meaning goading between the boys.

Alya was by no means absent, though. She and Nino poked plenty of fun at the both of them for their date plans tomorrow night. Adrien had been quick to try to shut it down (for what he said was Marinette’s sake, to not make her feel uncomfortable) but they were persistent. Still, through dodging plentiful innuendos and frequent sarcasm, Marinette thought Adrien seemed rather excited to talk about it.

Proud, even.

That thought sent her running towards the back with rose-tinted cheeks more times than she was willing to admit.

The reporter-to-be eventually looped them back to a proper topic, about spending that Saturday night at the La Nuit des musées. It was an annual event in Paris that only happened one night of the year where all of the big museums remained open from dusk ‘til dawn. There was a modest upfront charge for a wristband that allowed unlimited access to all of the participating venues. Any of the Paris museums worth their salt were included on the list, so it would have felt foolish if she were to not go: the Louvre, Musée d'Orsay, the Centre Pompidou, the Arts and Metiers Museum, the Decorative Arts Museum, and the Palais de la Découverte were all possibilities.

Marinette was excited by the prospect of attending, although that would be with a post-date Adrien... so the possibilities for what that night might turn into was like dividing by zero. At least until Tuesday passed, Marinette could whip between gooseflesh and stomach cramps at the possibilities for Saturday night quicker than she could sew a seam.

Between watering planters and wrapping bouquets, Marinette noticed an uncharacteristically serious text from Adrien directed towards a tag-team of Alya and Nino insisting he give them a firm answer on La Nuit.

Adrien (1:56 PM):

Um, idk if I can. I want to, but Nathalie says there’s something on my schedule I don’t think I can get out of.

And now that it was on her mind, she did recall Adrien saying he wasn’t going to be available on Saturday. It explained why he kept getting off-topic, probably trying to avoid disappointing everyone. Marinette couldn’t blame him for that, even if she was saddened to think on it. She would probably still attend if Alya and Nino wanted to, since it was a one-night-opportunity, but she would definitely skip out on the reception and deal with the minor annoyance of third-wheeling.

After another thirty minutes, Marinette ate her lunch in the back office while going over her next purchase order. Tikki played the part of sympathetic audience.

“Ugh, these prices… How’s a girl supposed to eat?” She said, taking an entirely ironic bit from the lunch Maman had prepared for her. It was some sort of curried potatoes and rice creation.

Tikki frowned and settled into her shoulder, nibbling on her favorite variety of macron.

“Well, at least the need to order plenty means you’re doing good business, right?”

Marinette sighed and retrieved the “company” checkbook (it was just her parents, linked to the business account with their bank) and wrote out a figure with so many 0’s she actually had to double-check to make sure she hadn’t made an error.

“Yeah, I suppose… Maybe it’s a seasonal thing, but all of this?” Marinette pointed down at the catalog, finger tracing plastic planters and floral wire. “It’s annoying that they would inflate the price of necessities because they know we need them.”

Tikki giggled and adjusted her weight on Marinette’s shoulder. “Maybe Hawkmoth akumatized the factory workers. If there’s no flowers left in the city, what will draw ladybugs to Paris?”

The girl shook her head and chuckled. “Why didn’t I see it before? The answer was so obvious, Tikki!”

They shared a laugh and Marinette took another bite of her food, sealing the envelope and writing down the purchasing figure in the books. Hopefully this was the just the height of seasonal pricing, because they were barely breaking even with these sort of margins.

Just as she finished her food and took a long drink from a water bottle, the bell at the front chimed. Marinette could only check the messages on her phone and couldn’t get much utility from the device otherwise during business hours, so she opted to leave it with Tikki who could pass the time watching videos.

Marinette wiped her hands quickly on her apron and walked through the front of the store. A young gentleman, well-dressed and a few years her senior, had walked in looking very nervous. He eyed an assortment of bouquets wearily, and Marinette had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Mo would get a kick out of this.

If a man came to the store alone, Mo had warned her of three things.

“When M&M is at its end, when I go, you’ll need to be wary on your own! ...Yes, Marinette, I just rhymed, you can stop laughing now. I am but a poet who doesn’t even know it!”

Even in present day, Marinette rolled her eyes. Typical Mo.

“Young men - and nay, even some young women - will need your help with these purchases. They know nothing of the language of flowers, and they’ll be so blindsided by romance they won’t have the forethought to study up before coming to the store. If they are not purchasing for an apology or a date, then they may have a lustful eye for the unsuspecting female clerk, working the store alone. Don’t be afraid to use those muscles of yours to kick some sense into them, if you have to.”

Mo said he had an eye for that type, which Marinette frankly found to be a little ridiculous, but he would always insist on “helping” those clients so they might not make some sort of unwanted advance on her. It was actually very sweet how protective the old man had been, but she usually though he had a tendency for the dramatic.

Grinning, the bluenette strode across the counter and called his attention. “Bonjour. Can I help you?”

His face was conventionally handsome, a strong jaw with some dark five o’clock shadow that made him look a bit more mature. Glasses and brown eyes, darting and anxious, looked up at Marinette’s greeting.

“Oh, bonjour, Mlle. Um... actually, yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m not sure...” The customer turned his attention back towards the wide variety of bouquets Marinette had prepared, and she felt a little smug at having just finished restocking. It was a bit impressive to look at, especially for someone like this.

Marinette nodded and placed a hand at her hip, joining his study of the display. “Rather you did something wrong, or you’re aiming for a date. Right?”

There was a pause, and the man laughed in relief. “Wow, you’re good. Yeah, I… I’m trying to ‘impress’ someone.”

Marinette nodded, tapping her chin and keeping her eyes forward. That narrowed the possible list of appropriate bouquets, although it depended on what type of impression he was hoping to make.

“Well, if it’s a date,” Marinette mused, taking a step towards a cacophony of crimson, scarlet and ruby red buds that were easy to admire. “You might consider something classic. Roses are popular, of course, but…”

She gestured to another, softer and slightly fuller arrangement. “If you want something a little different, Hummingbird flowers are always a reliable, pretty pick.”

Marinette brushed the star shaped petals of the palest pink with her fingers, a delicate bunch accented by Baby’s Breath and White Diamond Limonium.

Roses were cheap to grow and they could sell them at a high mark-up, just by way of the demand. Fiscally, it probably would have made better sense to stick to upselling the former recommendation, but Marinette just will herself to make a sale based off money alone. There was soul within each stem, and some blossoms simply needed additional advertisement for people to appreciate their personalities.

“Hummingbirds?” The man croaked, and Marinette just nodded patiently.

“No, Hummingbird flowers. They’re technically called bouvardia. They’re simple, reall-- ”

The bell at the door interrupted her, so she quickly called a greeting before continuing.

“Bonjour! Just a moment, please! Sorry, but yes - bouvardia are really simple to care for, and they will keep for weeks. Just pop them in any vase and change the water every few days. They’re supposed to represent enthusiasm, and they have a…”

Her voice fizzled out, because a ringing in her ears didn’t stop. The bell was going off continuously, and it had picked up a rhythm.

Marinette turned to face the door, having caught a child playing with the bell to elicit such a sound before, but it turned out the chime was coming from someone much less predictable than a child.

“C-Chat Noir! Bonjour,” Marinette bowed her head, surprised to see him, and the customer turned with wide eyes.

Clasping his hands together, the young man bounced on his toes. “Wow! I-it’s… you! I’m a huge fan!”

The black cat, always one for a show, performed a theatrical bow while his tail swished around the middle aisle. “Ah, it’s always a pleasure to meet a fan! And in the most charming spot in all of Paris, no less.”

The gentleman beside Marinette practically floated over to Chat, and he vigorously took the heroes hand and shook. “I hate to ask - I’m sure you get this all the time, but could I get a selfie with you? My boyfriend wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t show him a photo!”

“Of course,” Chat accepted the man’s phone and they leaned in for a picture. “I actually happen to photograph rather well.”

Just after they snapped the shot, Chat caught Marinette’s eye, and the smug blond had the nerve to wink. Out of reflex, her head fell back on her shoulders, and she had to keep herself from hissing at him in annoyance.

“Yes, hello, Chat Noir. If you’re here for a purchase, I’d be happy to help you once I’m finished with this gentleman.”

“W-What?” The man clutched his phone to his chest, hugging the device like it was a lifeline. “No, please! Chat Noir, you go first. My thing isn’t important, it can wait!”

Chat Noir shook his head and smiled. As he opened his mouth to speak, however, the bell to the door rang again and Marinette thought seriously about throwing her hands up and quitting.

She fixed her face into a smile, certain that it was not convincing, and faced the door. “Bonjo-- …?”

There was no one there. Had the person stepped in and left immediately? It… had had happened before, though it struck her as odd.

Whatever the case, she could not complain. Chat’s presence alone certain to bring a tide of business crashing down Courtier St., so she needed to wrap things up.

Marinette stepped firmly towards the center of the store and gestured to young man who had begun texting furiously into his phone. “I’m sorry, sir, but I insist. Chat Noir is a hero of Paris, but in this store, he’s also a customer. You were here first, and I’ll assist him once we’ve made a choice for you.”

Behind the young man’s glasses, he blinked repeatedly and looked between the hero and Marinette like she had just started speaking Yiddish. It wasn’t until Chat nodded him to go that she was able to finish the sale, and thankfully, it had been quick thereafter. He seemed so starstruck that Marinette didn’t even have the chance to finish her explanation of Hummingbird flowers before he hastily accepted and passed her a shiny credit card.

“Wow, who would’ve thought? I’m here for flowers and bam! Chat Noir. This is such an amazing day!” He whispered across the counter to Marinette, who just smiled politely and passed him his receipt and requested a signature.

It really shouldn’t have struck her as a a surprise, as Chat Noir came frequently, but Marinette had gotten used to seeing him in the evening after the past week. Him coming here during the day while she drowned in work seemed comparatively frustrating, but Marinette kept her voice kind all the way until the man left the store (only after he stopped to shake Chat Noir’s hand two more times, of course).

Even so, Marinette had nothing but positivity to offer today, grinning at the alley cat who had folded his hands neatly behind his back.

“Hi, Marinette.” Chat said once they were alone, and she raised a brow at him. The cat must’ve hit his head or was actively hiding something, because the look he was giving her was filled with unusual admiration.

“Hello, minou,” Marinette smiled as she returned to the counter. Chat respectfully remained on the other side, though he did walk rather close behind her.

Sticking her tongue out, Marinette broke through his intense stare when they both laughed. “What brings you by today?”

“Ah, right meow? I was simply in the neighborhood and thought you might want some company of the kitten variety.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, and Marinette just slapped a palm into her face.

With a good-humored sigh, she picked up some papers and began to make a few notes. “I’m so flattered, Chat, you have no idea. How could I ever thank you?”

“Oh I’ve got a few ideas, Puur-incess. Especially now that I know you sneak boys into your room.” His voice was riddled with suggestiveness, but it was clearly sarcastic. Marinette just shook her head and giggled.

Chat seemed to notice her exuberance and commented, “Well, isn’t your cat-titude just meow-valous today? Even my puns seem ineffective!”

Marinette just exhaled brightly and met his gaze. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I happen to be in a very great mood.”

“Oh? Do tell!” The black-suited hero leaned his elbows on the counter, coming closer in interest.

Her face flushed, but she did not look away. “Well, that friend I was telling you about… They came back, and…”

She stopped mid-sentence, interrupted yet again by the ever-present bell that called her attention, and Chat straightened when she glanced over his shoulder.

There was no one there.

“Again?” Marinette pursed her lips in annoyance, walking around the counter and coming to the door.

Chat stayed a pace behind her, watching her examination of the doorknob. “Is something wrong?”

“I think there’s something broken… with the… um…”

Marinette’s voice trailed off, but not, for once, due to lack of the right words or a sputtering confidence. Instead, her attention had been caught by some unusual activity beyond the glass walls. Instead of a typical flow of passing couples, groups of friends, or parents and their children, the predictable midday ambiance of Paris had been unsettled.

“Something’s happening,” Marinette whispered, voice suddenly urgent. Chat scowled and moved right up to the window, standing so close she could feel the smooth exterior of his suit as he looked into the road.

Indeed, people were no longer passing along peacefully, a steady tide of leisure down the sidewalks. No, the current had picked up, and a wind was blowing ever East, loud and panicked. People were screaming, and running, and clutching their loved ones.

Chat clenched his jaw. “An akuma.”

Marinette tried for a playful smirk. “I suppose it was inevitable, wasn’t it?”

He pursed his lips, and the witty joke that Marinette expected didn’t come. Instead, Chat Noir turned to her and put a hand on each of her shoulders.

“Go hide, Princess.” The sharpness of his tone surprised her. “Please.”

“Umm…” she felt his hands squeeze her slightly. “O-okay, Chat Noir. Be careful.”

The promise of her safety must have been enough to undo whatever had rattled him, because his smile turned huge and he stepped away, bowing low.

“But of course, I’m paw-sitive things will be just f-el-ine.”

Marinette rolled her eyes while the cat hopped away, the only force of nature moving against the clamor of people fleeing the source of danger.

Wistful, Marinette watched him go, worried again. Was he okay?

“Marinette!” Tikki chimed, flying a few inches in front of her. At what point her kwami had come to the front of the store, the girl had no idea. “Aren’t we going?”

“O-oh, right!” She nodded seriously. “Let me go out the back…”

As quickly as she could manage, Marinette locked the front door and ran through the exit on the southern side of the building. Thankfully, everyone in this part of town had already fled or found refuge indoors, so it seemed safe enough to transform.

Marinette met eyes with her kwami, and the two shared a fierce nod. “Tikki, spots on!”

In a flash, a strength flowered from her core as red spandex fit to her like a second skin. Clarity and focus settled in her mind with ease, and with a contented sigh, Ladybug stepped out into the courtyard.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Ladybug said, mostly to get herself to get in the right headspace for a fight. It’s been weeks, and taking to the rooftops with her yo-yo in hand felt invigorating.

Back-tracking slightly so no one might see her depart directly from the flower shop, she ultimately headed towards the center of town. Ladybug made quick work of a few miles when the magical device in her outstretched hand began to buzz.

Finding a building to stop upon, Ladybug flipped open the screen, listening for disturbances or ambushes all the while.

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug nodded severely in greeting into the screen. The black cat grinned sheepishly, and she had to stop herself from laughing.

“Do I even want to know why you’re soaking wet?”

“Well, you see Bugaboo, it all started this morning when I -- “

“Mon chaton,” Ladybug said pointedly, raising her eyebrows at him. He shook himself off slightly like a drenched animal, and his hair seemed puffier as a result.

He kept his grin just as wide. “I’m afraid things are a bit fishy down by City Hall.”

“Fishy?”

Chat shrugged. “You’ll see. I’ll keep ‘em distracted for you, Bugaboo.” He sang her nickname and blew her a kiss.

Ladybug merely shook her head, flipping the screen closed. “That cat, sometimes…”

Setting a course towards her partner’s location, the heroine moved as a flash of red along the Parisian skyline. The roads were quiet in their vacancy, and it was always one of the worst parts of battling an akuma. People abandoned the streets and sucked the life from the city itself; it sounded of death and reminded her of absence, neither of which were conditions she yearned after.

Once City Hall was in sight, Ladybug quickly came to understand Chat’s meaning. The nearer she moved to the scene, the more that awful, odorous waves reeking of fish wafted to meet her. Even as a civilian, Ladybug was not the biggest fan of seafood, and this wasn’t the smell of a roasted salmon or freshly prepared sushi. It smelled like of salt and seawater, musky and dark and totally unpleasant. Vaguely, she recalled someone telling her once that olfactory experiences are more poignant than any other sensory memory; Ladybug could only hope that was hyperbolic, because this smell would surely haunt her forever.

“What the…” Ladybug muttered, covering her mouth and nose, trying in vain trying to block some of the oceanic air from making her dizzy. At the cusp of a large building looking over the city square, she looked down into the streets to find a torrent of… money? Coins, bills, and currency of every kind spilled into the streets, so high it covered some smaller buildings entirely. It was like a flood of cash sprang from City Hall and was rushing down the streets, a broken dam that began to submerge the city beneath the weight of wealth.

Baffled, Ladybug wondered aloud (through a compressed, nasally voice). “What kind of akuma is this?”

“Beats me,” answered a familiar call. She turned and spotted Chat Noir, retracting his baton and finding his footing. By the looks of it, he must have just vaulted to the top of the building himself.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was fishy, mon chaton… ugh, this is terrible.” Ladybug replied, scowling and scanning the world below in vain, searching for some source of the chaos.

“Really?” He seemed amused. “Maybe it’s the whole, cat-like-instincts thing, but I think it’s actually rather nice.”

“Bleh,” Ladybug stuck her tongue out, and her partner snickered at her expense.

Stretching his arms, Chat moved to the buildings’ edge and crouched down. The streets were still filling with money, a sea of metal and paper growing taller in the center of the square and spreading further down each side street.

“Looks like we don’t have anytime to waste, unless we want to be sleeping with the fishies,” he commented, almost sounding annoyed. Ladybug sighed, and they met eyes. She gave the cat an approving smile.

“Well, kitty, this seems like your specialty. It looks like it’s all centralized around City Hall, so we best start there.” Chat’s ears perked, and Ladybug’s grinned widened. “Shall we go akuma fishing?”

Chat stood and spun in a fluid movement, facing her after a full rotation and bowing. “It would be a pleasure, Bugaboo.”

Leading the way, Ladybug swung her yo-yo far and aimed high, not particularly interested in falling into the flood of currency - the smell seemed to come from the rising tides, and frankly, she was glad to have nothing to do with it. The catching wind while she leapt closer to the building actually helped to wick some of the odor from the air surrounding her face, but when she landed deftly on the roof of the building, it grew even worse. The gentle thud of Chat Noir landed beside her, and his voice was immediately alarmed.

“L-Ladybug! Are you okay?” He gripped her shoulders. “Why are you crying?”

She groaned and patted his hold, using the knuckles of her other hand to brush away the sudden tears.

“I’m just fine, thank you for the concern Chat. It’s the smell, my eyes are just watering. Ugh.” Setting her jaw, she tried to indicate finality with her tone, and thankfully Chat Noir drew back.

“Hmm,” Chat tapped his chin and walked to study some of the skylight windows. “If you don’t think you’ll be able to breathe, don’t be afraid to fall back, okay? Maybe we can draw the akuma out away from the, uh,” he paused, looking over the side of the building at the growing pile of cash. “Ocean?”

Ladybug huffed and squared her shoulders. “You might be right, but let’s see if we can’t figure out what’s going on first.” She had to blink through some latent wetness while investigating the glass beside Chat Noir.

“It doesn’t look like there’s - oh, well,” Chat was about to state the obvious - that there wasn’t anyone inside - but his claim would have become immediately false. The door to the mayor’s office burst open, and so far as they could see, all of the inner sanctums of the building remained entirely vacant of money.

Stepping out from the office and cackling wildly, a larger-than-life man stepped through the doorway (just barely fitting) and dragged a large net behind him. In some weird way, Ladybug was reminded of Santa Claus, but only if the jolly man of Christmas carols had jaundice and turned mad.

The man sported a bright, almost insultingly yellow, coat with matching hat and boots that covered almost his entire body. A few inches between the bottom of the coat and the top of the boots exposed gray tattered clothes beneath, and even the man’s face was largely obscured by a bushy grey-white beard. Striking against the his drab appearance, his eyes were gruesome - one, large and blown from glass, matched by a scar from lid to cheek, and the other was gray as an overcast sky. What little of his face was visible and not disfigured appeared papery and tough, and he must have been getting up there in age.

Thrown over his shoulder, adding to the illusion of a deranged Kristopher Kringle, the man gripped a net at least double his size. Large and black woven wire crossed over itself into what must have been some sort of fisherman’s net; it was the only part of his get-up that seemed a clear candidate for the akuma to hide.

Ladybug grimaced when she realized the net was not empty.

“He’s got the mayor,” Chat commented, almost as casually as if he were remarking on the weather. With a glance over the streets, Ladybug noted the rising rate of the strange paper and metal sea, and snapped her fingers.

“Ah. The treasury is in this building. That’s probably where the money is coming from, and I think it’s below ground.”

Chat nodded, already understanding her meaning.

“I’ll stop the flood,” he offered.

She smiled. “And I’ll try to get the net away from ol’ greybeard.”

With a quick nod, she watched Chat dive from the building into the “water” with surprising grace. The sound of his body hitting a conglomerate of metal, however, did not sound at all pleasant.

“It probably doesn’t tread like water,” Ladybug yelled down to him through cupped hands. She giggled as Chat massaged his backside, more crawling than swimming towards the bit of the entrance that was still visible.

He called back to her. “That would have been helpful about 10 seconds ago!”

Allowing herself a little laugh, the red heroine readjusted her shoulders and faced the window again. The akumatized victim was shouting something nonsensical to the mayor, who was quivering under the net. She needed to act quickly before things escalated into some sort of hostage situation.

The windows on the roof did not have any visible locking mechanisms, so Ladybug shrugged and kicked through the glass, leaping to the marble tiles effortlessly.

“Let him go!” She demanded as the yellow-coated man turned to face her, and much to her surprise, he dragged the mayor’s weight with his turn.

The moment of recognition came too slow, though, and Mayor Bourgeois slammed into her and knocked her back into a pillar.

“Ladybug!” He cried, seemingly uninjured though he had just been used as a weapon.

Groaning, she blinked a few times and tried to ignore the several tender spots where rock had met her back muscles, and took another, more prepared stance across the hall outside the mayor’s office.

A different approach, she held her yo-yo at the ready. “What do you want?”

“Fair trade in the state of France!” He shouted automatically, adjusting the net at his shoulder. “And I, the Pêcheur, ain’t going to let some bug get in the way of what the hardworkin’ people of France deserve!”

Ladybug dropped and rolled away from the swing of the net she knew was coming, the threat evident behind his words. Not a moment too soon, as a loud crunching sound left a crater against the wall where she had just been standing. Maybe the net wasn’t hiding the akuma after all? It seemed really careless to swing around the object she needed to destroy so recklessly.

“The people of France don’t want violence, Fisherman, I can assure you that.” Ladybug replied calmly, standing and gripping her yo-yo. If not the net, than what?

The hat? Maybe… It still didn’t feel right, though.

“Oh I don’t know,” he said, cackling and swinging the mayor like a ragdoll. Ladybug winced, glad whatever magic kept Mayor Bourgeois in the net equally seemed to stop him from getting hurt. Still, he was a civilian, so she needed to get him out of here as quickly as possible. With a hasty scan of her surroundings, Ladybug noticed an elevator at one end of the hall.

“The people of France welcomed a revolution filled with violence, or did you forget, Little Miss?”

Backpedaling down the length of the corridor, Ladybug tried to keep Pêcheur far enough away that he would have to release his net to swing it at her, but near enough that he kept in pursuit. Just a little further…

“That’s true, but times have changed, Fisherman!” Ladybug took a threatening posture with her weapon in one hand, her other hand seeking the elevator button. “You can’t expect the people of Paris to--”

She stopped when the lift behind her dinged lightly, and she reared back with her yo-yo ready to send it spiraling around his ankles. In retaliation, Pêcheur roared furiously and whipped his net around, swinging it at her with barbaric force.

Perfect.

Like pretending to throw a dog a bone, she kept a close hold on her yo-yo, leaping over the net as it swept at her. Instead, she flung the trusty weapon at the man’s forearm that had a hold on the mayor. With a cry of pain, he dropped the net just in front of the elevator, and gravity did the rest.

She fell to the earth just inches in front of Mayor Bourgeois and quickly dragged him backwards before the elevator closed.

An angry wallop could be heard against the metal doors, but she had been just fast enough to complete the getaway. Immediately, Ladybug began to unravel a whimpering Mayor Bourgeois.

“Mayor! Are you alright?”

He was shaking, but appeared unharmed. “Y-yes, Ladybug. Thank you! I feel t-terrible about this…”

Ladybug noted a pleasant beep above their heads; they entered on the third floor, and she had her sights on the basement.

“Do you know what happened? Who is Pêcheur?”

Mayor Bourgeois made a face. “Well, he’s a fisherman.”

“... Yes, thank you, Mayor. And?” It was difficult to keep the irritation from her voice as she lifted the last bit of net above his head.

Another beep.

One more floor.

“He came to my office with a proposed bill to reduce the state tariffs on exporting fish, but that is something politically way above my head. I’m just a mayor! When I refused to bring his concern to my compatriots at the Assemblée nationale, he screamed about earning his livelihood at sea and stormed from my office.” The man completed his explanation as Ladybug helped him stand. Once he was steady, she reared an arm high in the air and used her foot as a counterbalance, tearing the net wide.

No butterflies here.

As if on cue, the final ding sounded in time with Ladybug’s sigh and the doors opened.

The horrible, repugnant scent of dead fish flared in her throat, and the mayor covered his mouth to stop from throwing up. A small influx of money spilled around their ankles, but it wasn’t surging as it once had.

“Why, there you are Bugaboo,” Chat called nonchalantly straight across from them, using his bodyweight to keep a large bank-style safe closed. It was clearly giving under the stress of compounding currency within, but his barricade had stayed the madness temporarily.

He shifted when a particularly horrendous metal creaking sound went off behind him. It was clear the door was going to give soon.

“I hate to be a burden, but purr-haps you could lend this poor cat a hand?”

Ladybug helped the mayor wade through the mess to the stairs, and thankfully Chat had mostly cleared a path on his way inside. “Mayor, find any room to hide it. It’s too dangerous in the streets with all of this in the way,” she gestured at the mess at their feet. He quickly nodded and thanked her again before sputtering and slipping his way up the stairs.

In a flash, Ladybug flew across the remainder of the room and, with their  combined strength, managed to better stabilize the door.

“Okay, minou, got any ideas? Where’s the money even coming from?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” he said, the strain clear in his voice. “It doesn’t seem to be coming from anywhere. It’s just seeping through the ceiling in there. Like rain, almost.”

“Rain?” Ladybug glanced down. “And you were wet earlier, weren’t you?”

Chat scowled. “It wasn’t my fault, I was helping someone in a car that got turned over and some people running by were soaking wet.”

She frowned, brow drawn together as she looked at her feet. “Maybe this isn’t just like water. Maybe it is water, Chat. That explains why its able to sort of swish and move on its own, and there’s no way he could have an endless supply --”

The cat yelped as the door started to give a bit, and he hastily replied. “Yes, sure, great - your logic is amazing and you’re amazing, blah blah, but maybe we should get out of here?”

“Ugh,” Ladybug groaned, exerting even more force as the door started to buckle. “We need a plan first. If one of us lets go, the metal won’t hold.”

Ears perked, Chat Noir turned to her with a grin. “Wait a meow-ment! I have an idea! Just hold the door for one second, and um..well, actually...” His smile flickered and faded.

“Well?!” Ladybug shook her head, eyes bulging. “What are you waiting for? What is it!?”

“Umm, you’ll have to, uh, spread your… legs” he muttered. Frankly, she didn’t care about boundaries and all that - Chat clearly was not understanding the urgency of the situation.

“Okay! Okay, sure, just do whatever you have to!”

Chat frowned at her for a moment, as if surprised she trusted him so completely, but his focus came back with another groan of the metal.

His tone was hard. “Okay, hold the door.”

Under her breath, Ladybug muttered a quick retort through grit teeth. “Yeah, like I have much of a choice.”

Chat Noir moved directly in front of her, crouched down and drew his weight back. “Cataclysm!”

He aimed a hand, miasmatic and deadly, at the spot where the metal barrier met the ground, just between her feet, and the floor began to quake.

With his other arm, Chat wrapped a deft hand around her waist and extended his baton forward into the metal, just as the hinges began to snap, and drove them back into the elevator.

He smashed the button closed the moment they were inside. The door dented under the crushing weight of coins, but they were unscathed.

Ladybug heaved for air, crisp and sharp against her windpipe as they stood in the strangely quiet elevator. Beside her, Chat rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

“S-Sorry, that was close.” He glanced at their feet, noticing some netting caught in the small collection of coins and paper below. “I take it the akuma wasn’t in the net?”

Still breathless from exertion, she merely shook her head and glanced up at Chat. The moment they met eyes, his ring beeped twice.

“Ah…” he pressed his lips together and eyed his right hand in annoyance. “Well, any ideas?”

“I think…” she began, looking at the ceiling. “I think the guy isn’t going to leave the building. At some point, he’ll demand our miraculous, and we’re already here. More importantly, he said he wants to change the laws, I guess.”

Chat Noir snorted and ran a hand down his face. “They have like, petitions for that, right? Did getting akumatized seem like the most logical solution?”

His ring beeped again.

Ladybug was only half-listening, and she lifted herself up using the wall to support her weight, pushing through the latch in the ceiling. He didn’t need directions to know they were going up, the long way.

Once situated in the dark vertical tunnel, she squinted upwards and addressed Chat’s earlier question. “Yes, but, this man felt wronged, or cheated from what I gathered. He called himself the Pêcheur. The Mayor refused to help him… and he was talking about ‘the hardworking French people’. The smell, the ‘ocean’ of money, his outfit...”

A little more quietly, Chat reached the same conclusion she had earlier. “Ahh… A fisherman who wanted to improve wages or something to that effect, wronged by the Bourgeois. Literally, probably.”

She nodded, to which Chat added, “But what is he hoping to do?”

Another beep.

Ladybug just shook her head as she unsheathed her yo-yo, spinning it before grappling to the floor she had last seen him. “I have no idea, but we’ve got to stop it before things get more out of control. Your ‘second basement’ bought us some time, but Paris is going to flood if we don’t do something.

“It’s almost like the city is under-funded, am I right, Bugaboo?”

Chat had his baton ready, but Ladybug lifted a hand to stop him.

“You should stay here, you’re about to detransform. I’ll go after Pêcheur, and you recharge. Okay?”

She could tell, even in the low-light, his ears drooped slightly. The hard truth came in the form of his final beep, warning them of only sixty more seconds until he would revert to civilian form.

“I’ve got some food on me, so I’ll be able to catch up with you soon.” Chat offered, and Ladybug gave him a quick two-fingered salute.

“Bug out for now, mon chaton.”

--

The sound of hastily typing thumbs and a gorging kwami were the only things to break the silence for several minutes.

It was a little unnerving, sitting cross-legged at the bottom of a dark elevator shaft, waiting patiently for time to catch up to need. It was some sort of poetic pseudo-marketplace dealing in minutes and cheese, patience and fortune. Still, the quiet was peaceful, but it stirred a fear in his stomach.

Was Ladybug okay?

And another, newer worry found dominion beside that familiar fear.

Was Marinette okay?

Digitally speaking, things had spiraled out of control. Providing live updates to the Ladyblog, Alya was wading the sea (and probably earning herself some serious bruises along the way) while Nino had texted the group in clear panic, trying to get her to move inside or at least seek higher ground.

Marinette had not messaged any of them, which was disconcerting.

Adrien pulled up the blog in spite of himself, knowing his compliance was sort of encouraging Alya’s dangerous behavior, but it was an undeniably useful source of information when away from the throes of the fight.

The livestream was turning from selfie mode to photoview, and he cringed at the quick glimpse of Alya sauntering waist-deep towards the center of the city.

“Alright Ladybloggers, looks like there’s a change of scenery going on. Ladybug just appeared outside the building, and by the looks of it, no Chat Noir in sight.”

Scowling, Adrien and Plagg met eyes.

“The man calling himself Pêcheur,” Alya continued, oblivious to mutual annoyance of her audience in the elevator shaft. “Seems to be able to manipulate money, and he’s using the change to -- whoooaa,” Alya wavered and nearly dropped her camera, and the broadcast jostled disorientingly.

“We are in deep water now, folks, and that’s not a Chat Noir signature pun,” she shouted, and true to her word, the semi-calm mountains of cash had turned back to a freshet of angry ocean, literal water pouring into the city streets and sweeping Alya out and away with the deluge. His “second basement” must have bottomed out.

Adrien’s heart went out to Nino; at least Marinette had enough sense to stay inside.

“Okay folks, we need to seek higher ground. We couldn’t get close enough to hear the akuma’s threats, but there’s no denying one thing: he can control the water, and it can change to… well, change, apparently, by his whim. Stay safe everyone!”

She stopped the livestream, and Adrien couldn’t decide if it was appropriate to laugh or sigh. The girl was about as brave as Ladybug herself, but without the supersuit. In another life, she would have made a great superhero.

“Alright kid,” Plagg chewed his last piece of camambert and swallowed. “I’m ready when you are!”

Adrien stood quickly, his gaze fierce.

“Plagg, claws out!”

As easily as breathing, black leather encased his right arm and branched to his left, down his torso and hugging his body. Running a hand across his hair, familiar ears fit to his blond tresses and Chat Noir shook the familiar resurgence of power through his muscles.

“Round two.” He declared quietly, readying his baton to vault through the building, after Ladybug and the akuma.

Chat managed to trace after without issue, following the sounds of battle raging above his head. A clear hole had shattered a glass window, and the jagged edges offered droplets of water near the middle of the hallway. Unable to cling against their own gravity, the droplets turned to metal with a tiny shing each time another drop loosened and hit the marble floors.

Hmm. So LB and Alya were right. He turns water to money.

“But where is he even getting the water?” Chat wondered aloud, glaring at the ceiling.

A rush of red flew backwards across his line of sight, propelled by a gush of liquid that sounded hard and metallic upon impact.

He watched the Fisherman saunter forward, after what had clearly been an injured Ladybug. Chat waited just until the man crossed over the opening before vaulting himself on the roof.

“Hey now!” Chat taunted, twirling his baton upon landing. “Don’t you know that fish keep their money at the riverbank, Mounseir Pêcheur?”

Grinning, he paused to leap away from a second crashing wave of bills, rolling and landing on one knee. “C’mon, if you’re a Fisherman, surely you can catch me?”

Another rush of money snapped in his direction from over the side of the building, near enough that Chat felt the light tickle of passing air besides his ear.

The more Chat baited, the more the man fumed and rage, and the blond hero rather enjoyed watching the Fisherman’s face turn red beneath his yellow suit. It was clear, unbridled fury, and it was turning him reckless.

“Why are so crabby, anyways?” Chat mewled in time with the rising tides, the sound rapturous as metal smashed into concrete and plaster walls. Coins rained from above with the jostling movements, flying upwards only to smack against the top of his head. Chat hissed, more in annoyance than in pain.

Still, the Fisherman looked too ensorcelled to do much else than storm senselessly after the black cat. Not a single intelligible word passed through the man’s cracked lips, and of course, Chat Noir was never one to pass up a joke.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

In a furious roar, Pêcheur raised his arms high in the air and the sea moved with him, punching a hole straight through the roof with brute force.

Chat barely managed to backflip away from the assault, but it seemed Pêcheur had been hoping for that. He had driven Chat rather close to the edge of City Hall’s rooftop, and the hero barely managed to stay upright, thanking Plagg for his enhanced reflexes. Below, choppy tides and dangerous currents called up to him in a manmade monsoon.

“Heh, well, looks like you, uh, caught me?” Chat shrugged, and blessed be, Ladybug had regained her wits and he watched as the string of her yo-yo snaked around the Fisherman’s ankle just as he reared up for another attack.

A fierce shout garnered Chat’s attention while the man went sprawling.

“The akuma are the papers in his coat! It’s in his front pocket!”

Nimbly, Chat prowled forward and rolled the man over with his foot, ducking down to follow Ladybug’s directive. As he did, a massive shadow cast along the roof at his back, winking the sun out of existence. His ears were pitched to two sounds: one, of rustling paper and rising winds, and the other, a voice.

“Chat Noir! Look out!”

He had only time to cover his face before much more than just the sun was eclipsed - his whole body was smashed by waves of pain. Every muscle twisted and flared against sharp edges of coins and paper, crushing him beneath sheer weight alone. It was like getting smacked by a metal mallet, over every inch of his body, all at once.

“Lucky Charm!”

Oh thank god, Chat thought through grit teeth. It was disorienting, a rush of sensations that were fueled mostly by discomfort, shoving and dragging by invisible hands. The force of the hit had knocked him clean off the roof, and it was clear that the man was trying to drown him in a sea of greed.

A much different, sudden flare of pain made Chat wince, but this was neither a compression of coin or the twisting of substance pelting into his body again and again. It wasn’t the same light paper cuts that marked his cheeks and nose. This was tight and sharp, like someone was trying to pop his shoulder out of place.

Before he knew what was up from down, Chat Noir was airborne again.

He blinked several times, even more confused by his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was he had been freed of his alloy-bound tomb. The world was inverted, the fringe that usually rested along his face hanging down and away from his forehead, brushing into his sort-of-but-not-really cat ears. A definitely upside down and cute red heroine frowned at him- or was she grinning? - and raised an eyebrow in bemused appraisal.

“Hello, mon chaton,” teased Ladybug. “Can I borrow your baton?”

“Oh I suppose, it’s not like I’m using it, given that I’m just hanging around,” he grinned, though not without clenching his jaw through some of the latent soreness from his earlier battery. Chat reached for the trusted tool at his lower back and offered it to her.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and accepted his baton, only to let him go and crumple on the roof of what he figured to be a tall neighboring building. She had rigged some sort of pulley to bring him out of the crushing sea with her yo-yo and a large antenna. In her other hand, she held a comically huge polka-dot cutout of the mayor.

By now, the “water” had completely covered most of the square, and City Hall was immersed.

“Hmm, and where did our fishy friend go?” Chat asked as he rubbed the strain from his arms and shoulders.

Beside him, Ladybug pursed her lips while tieing one end of his baton and her yo-yo together, keeping the disc of her weapon dangling from the end. “He’s under the, uh, money somewhere. But I thought we might go back to our original plan.”

Chat watched her movements with interest, and Ladybug tested out his baton, extending it slowly.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

She smiled widely. “I thought we could try akuma fishing.”

And with no problem at all, she cast out their weapons into a makeshift fishing pole, far into the square with the cut-out of the mayor secured to one end. Her yo-yo stuck out above the choppy waves, a red sinker in the middle of a brown, silver and bronze mess of wealth.

Several seconds passed of silence, and Chat eventually offered, “Just like that?”

“Yep. Now we wait,” Ladybug offered simply, and Chat frowned when her earrings beeped.

“You sure about this?” He crossed his arms nervously, eyes scanning a jingling ocean.

That caused her to laugh, and it was a bubbly, infectious sound. Chat smiled.

“Of course, mon chaton. My lucky charm has never failed us before.”

“Well,” he shuffled his feet before deciding to sit down onto the roof beside her, boots almost grazing the top of the bristling body of money below. “I guess that’s true. This was a strange akuma, LB.”

After a pause, Ladybug replied. “Yes. It definitely was. I feel bad for the old man, he really seemed to just want a better life for himself and other fishermen.”

Another beep.

“I don’t think anyone can fault him that,” Chat responded, and they both fell quiet and watched the chaos start to calm. He must be close and spotted the bait.

Ladybug was going to change back in just another few minutes, and still the akuma hadn’t appeared. Even if they did manage to defeat it in time, it was sort of a shame. It had been awhile since he’d seen his partner, and Chat admittedly missed her company. Ladybug was one of his best friends, and… well, given the nature of their relationship, he felt like he should tell her about his recent interest in someone else. It’s not like it mattered really, but he loved Ladybug in the sort of way you would only with someone you’ve nearly died for, and who has nearly died for you.

With the recent luck he’s had as Adrien, Chat felt it was the sort of good news he could share with her and that she might want to know about. Even if he wouldn’t be able to refer to Marinette by name, it was something so new and pure that made him happy it was almost like lying to not talk about her. A lie of omission, almost.

Again, Ladybug’s earrings beeped, and Chat fidgeted uncomfortably.  “So… how are you?”

She blinked down at him, brow drawn together. “What?”

Rubbing his neck, Chat clarified. “Well, you know, it’s been a little while and…”

A horrible grinding sound caused them both to jump, and Chat sprang to his feet while Ladybug returned her focus forward. The baton was starting to bend under a sudden weight, and a swishing release of Ladybug’s “line” began zipping loudly over the water.

“This is it!” She said, but the sudden intensity of Pêcheur’s grip at the other end was starting to pull her over the building’s edge. Without a second thought, Chat situated himself behind her and wrapped his arms around the baton as well, using their combined strength and weight to doubleback against the line, and he cringed at the sound of beeping just beneath his head.

“Ladybug! You only two minutes left!” He managed, grinding his molars.

“It’s okay. I’ve got this,” she spoke confidently, and quick tug his baton began to retract in, dragging the akuma’s weight along with it.

Of course, just as Ladybug said, the rest was simple. Pêcheur’s body had gotten tied up in the wire of her yo-yo, unable to escape though he thrashed like a fish just caught from the ocean. Quicker than they ever had before, Chat leapt up, snatched the akuma and threw it down to his partner, and she quickly ripped the papers to shreds.

Ladybug bid the luminescent, glowing akuma farewell, and stayed only long enough to offer Chat her fist.

“Pound it!” She smiled before, in perfect Ladybug fashion, bugging out in the other direction.

Sighing contently, he watched her go from the rooftops, looking down into the center of Paris with satisfaction. Another successful battle, and Chat watched as the people began to return to their wares, ducking out from buildings hesitantly.

With some gentle reassurances, Chat helped escort the akumatized victim to the medical professionals, and he caught the tailend of a conversation between the man and Mayor Bourgeois.

“I really do apologize, Monseiur Naser. I’ll at least see if I can take it to my colleagues, but I do not know how much power I will have.”

“T-thank you, Mayor. I appreciate you even trying to make a change.”

Chat sighed and removed himself as politely as possible from the crowds, trying to disengage from the probes about Ladybug’s whereabouts or his take on the recent dry spell of akumas. Of course, he did his best to answer vaguely but kindly, and thanks to Ladybug’s power any of the pain or soreness from his body had been wicked away.

Paris had been defended, but that didn’t mean he felt his job was done. Chat still had someone waiting for him, halfway across town, but what had been intended as a short break between shooting for the new Gabriel ad had been totally sucked up in the attack. Once again, responsibility got in the way of seeing Marinette, and it had only been so fleeting. Chat did not want to jeopardize the recent headway he had made with his relationship with his father, so he was resigned to return to his civilian life.

Chat Noir took to the sky and his feet only touched the tops of buildings long enough to propel him into the air again, preferring the open wind to the chains of gravity that would return him to himself soon.

Carefully, he slipped into an alley behind the studio he was expected in and spoke three familiar words.

“Plagg, claws in.”

Adrien held his palms out carefully, and his black kwami settled himself comfortably against his chosen’s fingers. Unfortunately, Adrien had only brought cheese enough for one detransformation, and Plagg knew as much.

Grumbling, the kwami curled in on himself, much like the creature that gave Chat Noir his namesake. “If ya can gets me something with some cheese in it, I’ll forgive you... this time.”

Adrien smiled. “There’s a snack table in the back. It’s not camembert, but I’m pretty sure they have some cheeses.”

At that, Plagg mustered enough energy to float into the front pocket of Adrien’s jacket, urging him on towards the dressing rooms.

Adrien stopped in the middle of the hallway, spotting some floral arrangement with a flower he actually recognized. It was part of one of the “sets” for the shoot, he assumed, as it was complex and larger than life. This had been the first time he had been able to utilize Marinette’s lessons in all things floral outside of the shop, and the recognition caused his heart to skip a beat.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, and Plagg certainly did not understand why Adrien felt the urge to stop in the middle of his Holy Grail quest with cheese at the helm, but in a quick motion the blond had his phone in his hands and was snapping a picture of the flowers.

Adrien (3:01 PM):

I’m at a shoot today. I saw these and I thought of you. :)

The only disappointing thing was that he knew it wasn’t a Dupain-Cheng product - those were easy to spot. With each delivery he had seen Marinette prepare, rather as Chat Noir or as Adrien, he always noticed the tag she would attached to the outside somewhere with care; a handwritten note thanking each customer for their business.

“I’m dying, Adrien,” Plagg called dramatically, turning over inside his jacket. “I’ll never be able to help you fight another akuma again, or sneak into your girlfriend’s room late at night.”

Hastily, the teen shoved his phone back in his jeans and made a beeline for the snack table, shoving enough cheese into his jacket to satiate a fully grown human.

Adrien took off his coat in the dressing room and left Plagg to his disturbing feasting rituals, staying only long enough to grab his phone and take it out to the set with him.

Marinette (3:08 PM):

What a coincidence!! I just sold some of those earlier today! They’re (bouvardia) Hummingbird flowers. Sorta like those latanas you sold the other day. :D

Marinette (3:08 PM)

Although Mme. Kleinstein probably would’ve bought anything from you with those freakin puns.

He grinned, walking down the hall. Adrien wasted no time writing back, stopping just shy of the shooting area so he could finish his message.

Adrien (3:09 PM):

That was the best sale the store has ever made and you know it! I gtg, we’re about to start again - but I thought they were pretty and knew you would appreciate them.

“Aye! There you are!” The photographer called, snapping her fingers aggressively halfway across the room.

“S-Sorry,” Adrien stammered as he slipped his phone into his jeans, but the woman simply glared suspiciously before turning her attention back to fixing her camera.

Around the studio, clusters of people moved around in preparation. Set designers, wardrobe, make-up, photographers and aids, Nathalie, magazine editors and people with clipboards all fluttered about, busying themselves with this-or-that. You wouldn’t even know the whole city hadn’t been under siege not twenty minutes ago.

Adrien hadn’t much time to think about it before he was swept up in the din, being shuffled back into his next outfit and having hands poking and prodding around his body. It felt annoyingly like the sensation of getting smashed by a tidal wave of change, just a little less sharp.

Still, he was thankful that most of his shots today were ones requiring happy poses. With recent events, that posture came naturally and his smile felt less forced. The photographers commented on his unusually but refreshingly chipper attitude, and he could only blush when Nathalie mentioned off-handedly that he had a date tomorrow night.

It was true, and it’s not like he was ashamed of it.

Between shots, different people would whisper to him about it, and he tried to just brush it off with the same answer.

“I’m excited! Just a little nervous.”

For whatever reason, it turned out that had been the wrong thing for Adrien to say. Several of the adults took his honesty as an opportunity to grant him all sorts of unsolicited advice and to offer tips from their wide experiences dating.

Adrien knew most of these people moderately well - business acquaintances, he would probably label them. Some were comfortable enough to be on a first-name basis, but it wasn’t without an arm’s-length of familiarity between them, so discussing something so personal with people like this was… strange, definitely. But more than that, it was nice. Everyone was clearly excited for him, asking all sorts of questions about Marinette and their plans, how they met and how he asked her out. The photographer, Lila, audibly “aww’d” when he told her about her employment as (practical) sole proprietor of the flower shop.

By the time the next break came, an hour had passed and Adrien felt like he had just finished having the most bizzare group therapy session imaginable. Between the overwhelming positivity of the people around the studio and their decidedly bizarre interest in his love life, he strode to his dressing room to check on Plagg when another model spotted him.

“Oh, hi, Macey.” Adrien stopped and nodded politely. She was a brunette with a dark complexion, taller than his father probably, and he knew she was about five years older than he was. They had done dozens of shoots together for the Gabriel line, and she tended to treat him like a younger brother. While Macey wasn’t quite a friend, she was at least always polite and easy to talk to.

“So A,” she said, hand at her hip. “Tell me about Marinette.”

A rush of blood flooded his cheeks, and the woman laughed. She gestured for them to continue down the hall, which gave him a chance to clear his throat.

“Well, she’s in my class at school - I’m not sure how much you heard out there…?”

She brushed him off. “I want to hear it all again. From the top.”

The explanation felt practically rehearsed after talking to so many people about Marinette recently, so it only took a few minutes to re-explain his friendship and admiration for the dark-haired miracle in his life.

They were standing outside Adrien’s dressing room by the time Adrien finished.

“So you like her. Marinette.”

“Um,” Adrien blinked. Had she even been listening? Wasn’t that much obvious? “Yes. A-a lot, actually.”

“As in, maybe-one-day-a-serious-relationship?”

He nodded firmly, omitting the comment that popped into his head about the possibility they might already be in a relationship if not for his own obliviousness.

Lowering her voice, Macey glanced down the hall.

“Well, then, I’m really happy for you, A. Really.” She smiled, as Adrien was clearly confused. “But take it from me - be careful with the press, especially early on. I lost a lot of good guys to the stress brought on by the paparazzi.”

Ah. Right. That… actually made a lot of sense.

“I guess I didn’t really think about that, I’m just so used to it...” He admitted, tapping his chin.

Macey closed her eyes and nodded, satirically serious. “The burden of fame, my friend. I know it’ll be fine, but I couldn’t not say something. It really sucks if a story gets out of hand, you know?”

Adrien thanked her, and Macey left him to his room. As he entered, he found Plagg snoozing beneath his jacket, so Adrien looked around for his cellphone.

Crap.

He left it in his jeans, which were still over in wardrobe.

Sighing, he sat at the mirror and considered Macey’s advice. It was reminiscent of a rumor that had gotten out about him and Marinette once, and in retrospect, it was funny to think about it now. Someone had taken a photo of them at the park beside her house, under rather embarrassing circumstances if he recalled correctly, and the photo went viral with claims of a secret relationship. At the time, Marinette had taken the gossip in stride and insisted it wasn’t an issue, and like most tabloid fodder, it died out rather quickly since no one in the Agreste circle acknowledged the photos.

A photo or two was innocent enough, so they had no problem dismissing the public speculation surrounding their friendship. But now? If he and Marinette continued to spend more time together (a thought which made him grin in spite of himself), the winds would likely stir the rumor mill all over again.

The irony of all of this was not lost on him.

Adrien had grown up under the constant scrutiny associated with fame, bulbs flashing and shouts commandeering his attention just walking down the sidewalk. The press knew no boundaries, demanding answers on anything and everything ranging from French politics, to the disappearance of his mother, to his take on Chat Noir and Ladybug. Incidentally, when he first wore his miraculous, admiring fans had already been second nature at that point.

Would Marinette be okay with the publicity?

…Maybe?

She was sort of shy, but fierce when she wanted to be. It’s not like you had to be an extrovert to deal with photographers - look at his father, for example.

Still, Adrien didn’t want to upset her or make her uncomfortable. Especially as he’s gotten older and come to, um, understand romance in a more adult context, he could imagine plenty of horrible headlines that could really start them off on unfortunate footing. It’s not like footing was something something Marinette was exactly known for...

“Plagg - I got a question for you.” Adrien pondered, glancing over at the clock. They’ll need him again in another five minutes.

“Adrien, I swear to the stars,” his kwami mumbled. “If Paris isn’t on fire, I’ll cataclysm you.”

The teen smirked, though took a few steps back for good measure. “Can you even do that?”

“Do you really want to find out?” Plagg replied darkly, but lifted his head and met his stare with a half-lidded glare.

“Nope.” Adrien help up his hands. “Actually, I think I just figured out my answer. Go back to sleep, grumpy.”

His kwami did not need telling twice, and his head lowered beneath Adrien’s jacket again. Tiny snores came almost immediately.

Rolling his eyes, Adrien headed out the door and made his way back to the front of the studio. Despite Plagg’s bad attitude, he actually had answered Adrien’s question. All he had to do was ask for the kwami’s attention, and Plagg’s reaction was answer enough to know how the conversation would go.

Why not just do the same thing with Marinette? Not everything had to be a riddle or require a complicated plan. Adrien respected her too much to make assumptions on what she might feel.

By the time he was in front of the camera again, Adrien’s mood was bright again. Some of the set workers still occasionally whispered questions to him about Marinette, which made him blush more than once (each time, the photographer or makeup artist would yell in annoyance. Red cheeks were good for a winter ad, not one with floral backdrops). Aside from those interruptions, the remainder of the shoot passed without issue.

They were all dismissed just a bit few minutes after six, but by the time Adrien had finished changing and washing his face, he wasn’t in the car until quarter-til seven. Sinking comfortably into the seat, he finally sought out his phone. He had fifteen texts from the group chat, and from a separate, private conversation.

Marinette (3:11 PM):

Thanks for sharing, that was really sweet. And np - good luck!

You would think he would be tired of smiling after a photoshoot, but then, he was also lucky enough to have something to look forward to afterwards.

Thinking through a response, Adrien studied the streets as the car rolled by. Vermillion streaks of maroon velvet had begun to explode across the sky, rippling outwards against a swirling miasma of night that began to overtake Paris. Softening, the day was mending beneath the horizon as night came to reign again. It was both dark and luminous, all at once, reminding him of Marinette’s hair as it bounced down the sidewalk.

No, wait.

That was just her, walking home.

“Oh!” He blurted, shooting upright.

Nathalie jumped, and she turned to him sharply. “What is it? Are you alright?”

Adrien blushed, still staring at the window. They were stopped at a light, so Marinette just floated off towards the bakery, towards her home.

“Umm…” He glanced at Nathalie, who was staring at him with hard eyes, and his bodyguard, who was completely not reacting at all.

“Y-yes, I’m fine! It’s just, Marinette is right outside. Could we offer her a ride home?”

The two in the front met eyes, his father’s secretary pursing her lips, and they both glanced at the time on the dash.

“...Pull over,” Nathalie commanded, and the driver did just that at the first chance.

Adrien hastily thanked them and practically flung himself onto the sidewalk, running to catch up with her.

“Marinette! Mari!” Adrien called, speeding past a few alarmed pedestrians. Perhaps she had been examining her cellphone from within her purse, because her pigtails shot up at the call of her name, and she turned around.

“H-hey!” He greeted, stopping and panting in front of her from the sudden sprint. Marinette blinked, nonplussed, and shook her head.

“Adrien? What are you…?” She clasped her bag shut, but smiled as she spoke his name.

He tried to smile back, still slightly bent forward from his exertion. “I was just driving home from the photoshoot… we were stopped at the light,” he jerked over his thumb in the general direction of the car, and Marinette peered over his shoulder. “And I saw you walking. Did you just get out of work?”

Marinette covered her mouth to laugh lightly, and nodded. “Yes, and earlier than I hoped. That akuma scared away a lot of my customers.”

“Oh. Sure.” He rubbed his hands together anxiously, not sure what to say to that.

Silence came thereafter, but it wasn’t awkward. Marinette was just radiant, both physically and by way of her presence alone. She seemed to diffuse happiness into the air itself, and Adrien drank it all in.

It was almost too much when her cheeks turned pink.

Adrien cleared his throat and gestured behind him. “Did you want a ride home? We could take you.”

Marinette’s mouth fell open slightly, surprised. “O-oh, really? I would… I would love that, actually, if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

He laughed and started to guide them back to the car. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re the only one who attracts trouble, after all.”

Adrien leaned down and grabbed the door, opening it for her. Marinette scrunched her nose, always acting sort of flustered when he would try to behave chivalrously.

Quietly, before stepping in, her blue eyes sparkled. “Should I start calling you trouble, then?”

Marinette closed the door for herself, smiling proudly at what was probably his stunned expression. He was still working through the joke by the time she was buckled in, and he had to scramble around street-side to get in, blushing and grinning at her all the while.

Beside the goofy glimpses they shared on the way back to the bakery, sticking their tongues out or winking dramatically, trying to fight the urge to laugh, the actual conversation remained perfectly cordial. Marinette asked Nathalie how she was doing, and apologized for her mother’s insistence the other day (Adrien guessed she heard it all second-hand from Sabine and Tom once she got home), and she and Adrien spoke about their days.

Well, besides the whole turning into Chat Noir and protecting Paris for almost two hours. He decided to leave that part out.

Towards the end of the ride, Marinette began to bounce lightly against the lush seats, brightening as she retrieved her cell phone. “Your text was really nice, b-by the way. I love Bouvardia, they’re the flower of enthusiasm!”

“I’m glad,” Adrien responded with a smile “I like how enthusiastic you get when you talk about all flowers, so this is like, enthusiasm about enthusiasm.”

“Meta-enthusiasm,” Marinette closed her eyes and nodded solemnly, peeking through a lid and catching his eye. They both grinned and snickered quietly.

“Yeah,” he said with a small, contented sigh as he gazed at the streets. They were very near to her house now. “I always think of you when I see flowers anymore. I hope that’s not weird,”

he tagged on the last part hastily, hoping she didn’t see the color fill his cheeks.

“The shop is like, one of my favorite places in the city.”

Marinette’s smile reached her eyes, and she too was looking out the window. The lights of street lamps that hit her face in a sort of constant flutter. It made her look almost angelic.

“Mine, too,” she commented, voice soft.

They pulled to a stop just outside of the bakery, and he could see Tom inside with a broom, sweeping the front of the store.

“Well…” Marinette said, rubbing her hands on her jeans. She looked nervous, which only made her even more adorable.

Adrien turned to her and tried for some confidence, very aware of the adults in the car and her father fifteen feet away in the building. “I’ll see you tomorrow, after you get off of work?”

Ducking her head, Marinette nodded vigoriously and started to get out the door. She paused halfway through and looked back inside the car.

“Thank you, Adrien, for taking me home. And thank you, Mme. Sancouer and, um, Adrien’s driver.”

“You’re welcome,” Nathalie said, keeping her eyes forward.

Adrien scooted down the seat slightly, leaning towards her. If only he could tell her how beautiful she looked right now, hair framing her face and eyes wide, turned up in kindness.

“Can I... call you again tonight?” He managed shyly.

Adrien lost a bit of his will power when she beamed at him, causing her freckles dancing under the light of the moon. He reached for her hand resting on the open door and, as gently as he could, kissed her knuckles. Glancing up, Adrien hoped the action spoke the word he was too embarrassed to say aloud.

Please?

Her own gaze looked only surprised, but if he didn’t know better, her skin had darkened from the gesture. A tiny bit smug, Adrien thought she looked much less offended than when Monseiur Delcair kissed her hand a week ago.

“I- I, yes. Yes.” She nodded and gave his fingers a light squeeze before pulling away. “I would like you very much. I-I mean, I would like that very much! I’m, I’ll… uh, see you!” Quickly, she waved and tagged on a squeaky “‘Bye!”

The door closed firmly and he watched her scurry up to the door, nearly colliding with the frame on her way inside.

Night proper had settled across Paris, dark and enigmatic, yet the city of love had never seemed so bright. Adrien felt like he was dreaming already, and he when he arrived home after mercifully little questioning from Nathalie, he had never wanted to sleep so readily. The next day, he would take Marinette on their first date, and the hours could not pass fast enough.

[yeosangs-horizon]

Company (Changkyun x Reader) 

Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1.8k

The time on my watch said 9:40 PM, almost time to close this damn coffee shop and get on with my night. I looked outside the foggy streets, anticipating anybody that would come in that this time of night. 

The jazz music blasted softly in the depths of the shop as I leaned and rested my hand on my mandible, contemplating thoughts and ideas through my brain. I didn’t even take note when the soft jingle of the bell on the door rang as a tall brown haired man with soft facial features stepped in. I looked up and shook my head as my subconscious thoughts faded away once more.

I gazed up, my eyes meeting his soft mocha pupils as I set off a fake grin, keeping my appearance with the social ‘norm’. “What can I get started up for you?” I asked, doing my regular duties as a barista. “Just one iced caramel macchiato please,” he spoke with his low toned voice throughout the quiet cafe. I nodded as I took the cash that he had for his order. “So what brings you here in this time of night?” I asked, wondering why such a good looking man would be up and about in this time of night and weather. “Oh just wandering about the city, y’know…” he trailed off. “Oh! My name is Changkyun but you can just call me IM for short, it’s my name for my rapping career,” he spoke gleefully. I smirked a bit, making small talk with him. “Well nice to meet you IM, my name would be (Y/N), but for future reference I like Changkyun better,” I answered swiftly as I poured the iced drink into the cup.

I handed the cold drink to him as I leaned back on the counter, waiting for him to leave so I could close the shop. It was one of those days where I had to finish alone because the rest of my coworkers decided that they had family emergencies to tend to. As soon as I looked up, I saw his slim figure leaning in on one of the soft bean bag chairs that we had set up in our lobby. I let out a small sigh and walked to the register to warn him about our closing time, after all, I didn’t want to be stuck at the shop until an hour after I stopped getting paid, a broke college kid like me didn’t have time to be wasting. 

“Changkyun, y’know we close in about 5 minutes right?” I asked with a hint of tired sarcasm in my tone, just to imbibe the knowledge into his mind. “Yeah, I know, but it’s only just be so if you need to tend to your duties of closing I can watch the shop for a bit for you,” he offered, not giving any explanation as to why he would not leave.

“Or you could just leave?” I chimed in, hoping to not sound so rude. “Sorry if I offended you, I just-- really don’t have the time to be attracting more customers in last minute,” I complained as I gazed at him again. His soft brown locks mixed in with his pale skin, he sure was something. “I mean if you insist, I only came here, looking for somebody to talk with, I’m somewhat new to the city,” he confessed. So he was only looking for company… “Don’t you have anybody else to chat with, or did you really move here alone?” I inquired, wondering more about his situation as seconds ticked away.

I wouldn’t mind sacrificing my beautiful sleep to him either. “Yep, I’m all alone, but with my minimal skills that I have I’ve done this quite a few times, with moving to different cities and a couple of countries as well,” he explained while gazing at me. I felt the urge to get closer to him and a spark of sympathy and adoration for Changkyun. I stripped off my apron and went to sit to the spot next to him as he placed his finished drink down. “I really like it in this city as of right now though, the hotel I’m staying at is pretty up to speed with the latest technology I’d say,” he rambled on. 

“W-wait, you’re staying at a hotel? For how long? Isn’t that expensive?” I bombarded him with questions at that point. “It’s honestly for the best, I’m going to be here for half a year so they gave me a pretty good discount, I figured that renting would be too much of a hassle since all these people ever want here is money and a long contract,” he spoke diligently. “And if I haven’t mentioned before, I’m here because of my career as a photographer but an underground rapper, I’m almost known internationally, been at this for 3 years now persay,” he reminisced. I was in awe by his courageousness. “That’s surely a talent right there,” I mumbled, feeling a wave of drowsiness come over me. I felt his arm snake around my shoulders as I sat there.

I glanced up at the clock, 10:20 PM. Well shit, I guess I’m getting little to no sleep tonight. I shot up in a panic as my cheeks flushed pink. “I should probably clean and get ready to go now. I mean, if you’d really like to you could stay until I finish… How far away is your hotel anyway?” I asked as I rushed behind the counter to sweep and tidy up the place. “I walked here which took about 2 hours since I must’ve stumbled off my original path, so I’d say about 4 miles down that way,” he pointed down the dark misty street. I felt a pang in my heart as a smile arose to my face. “If you’d like… you can stay with me, my apartment is just down a couple blocks and I know my neighbourhood is relatively safe since I really don’t want you walking back in this hour,” I offered, with hesitation.

 I felt his eyes land on my being as he answered. “I mean-- if you’re seriously offering then sure, I wouldn’t mind staying with someone as hardworking and gorgeous as you,” he flirted. “Well then, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind rapping for me either, that’s a part of the deal now,” I laughed half jokingly. He shrugged and replied, “If you want me to,”.

As soon as I put back my tools and materials in the right place, I shut all the lights off which startled Changkyun. I gazed back at him as I made my way towards the door. “Ready to go?” I asked as I swung my bag over my left shoulder. He nodded and let out a small yawn whilst trotting to the door frame. “Fuck… I forgot my jacket at home,” I yelped as the piercing cold wind shattered my pores. I then felt the warmth from Changkyun’s arms enveloping around my body. I let out the faintest smile as he pressed his warm cheeks onto mine. “I don’t get cold easily, I don’t mind repaying you in affection either,” he chuckled. I quickly locked the door behind me and shoved the key in the depths of my drawstring bag. 

As I turned towards the main road to my apartment, I felt Changkyun’s arm snake around my torso. I leaned into his warmth as we trudged through the mist back to my apartment. In this moment, I realized that I didn’t want to let go, no, it felt as if I’ve known him for ages. I felt our hands get closer as we grasped each other for warmth and soon our fingers intertwine in a loving gesture. His soft white hoodie gave me warmth as my shuddering hands soon was filled with life again. Hand in hand I led him up the stairs to my apartment door. I fumbled around in my bag until I managed to get ahold of my keys.

I bursted into the living space, feeling the warmth of my apartment seeping into my skin. I practically slammed the door behind me shut as Changkyun fell on the couch, exhausted and also freezing. “So welcome to my small apartment, as a broke college student I can’t offer you much except for my company and some hot water as of right now,” I chuckled. He turned his neck to gaze at me and let out a genuine smile. 

“I don’t mind, your company is just perfect and enough right now.” I turned my head towards my room, the only room in my apartment not to mention. “You can come in y’know, it’s much cozier in here,” I mentioned. Changkyun shuffled into my bedroom, where I had a simple aesthetic pastel layout with a couch draped in a baby blue covering. “You can spend the night there if you’d like,” I offered. He accepted the offer as he laid his entire being on the couch. The way his locks draped over his relaxing face made me smile, he looked so comfortable. He seemed unbelievably exhausted, even after his coffee. I didn’t notice myself running my fingers through his locks and the small smile that seeped through his resting face.

“Whoops,” I whispered to myself but as I went to back away, I felt a strong arm claw me back into his grasp. I had no choice but to lay down next to the man I practically just met. It felt right, as if it was some sort of destiny that I didn’t believe in or something along those lines. I inhaled his sweet scent and rested my head right next to his. The shallow breathing with his warm arms tangled around my torso was enough to drive my beating heart crazy. I sank deeper into his grasp as he fell into REM sleep. I rested my eyes as I felt my body sinking into his cozyness.

I felt the rays of sunshine hit my arm, making my limb warmer than the rest of my body. I almost jolted awake when but calmed my mind down when I remembered the events that occurred the night before. I sank my head into his shoulder once again as Changkyun remained still with a small grin on his face, happy from what had occurred I guessed. I shifted my weight and he started to move. “Morning beautiful, how was your sleep?” he swooned, acting as if he’d done this a million times.

 I shrugged, “Very comfortable I’d say, you?” I inquired while stretching my arms out. “It was sweet, I liked it,” he confessed softly. I felt his hands intertwine with mine again as he gently kissed me on the cheek. “I guess I should go out looking for company more often hmm, not that I will ever again after this experience,” he chuckled. “Well yeah, I’m probably the best there is,” I boasted with sarcasm. I felt his weight shift onto me as we fell on the couch again, laughing as if we were long time friends and lovers. “(Y/N), you’re really something y’know, thanks for the night, now you don’t mind if I stay here for another 6 months right?”

[merlotetmos]

The Stone Files: Chapter 2

Here it is, finally! I finally found inspiration this week and finished up the chapter. Just a quick reminder that this isn’t edited. It’s all complete first draft right now. ABOUT THE STONE FILES

CHAPTER ONE

I burst through the double doors of the police department with two minutes to spare, legs pumping as fast as they would go. Sweat rolled down my neck to my back and soaked my tank top.

  I dashed around the lines of cubical and made a bee line for the stairs. Thankfully, the office was mostly empty as third shift changed to first. Few rookie officer wondered about their daily tasks.

“Where’s the fire?” A tall brunette asked, snickering as I ran by.

Ignored her as I reached the door leading to the staircase. I jerked the door handle left and pushed it open. It slammed hard against the back wall and I dashed through, taking the stairs two at a time.

The basement was darker and somewhat cooler than upstairs, but not by much. The staircase ended onto a long hallway that seemed to spiral on forever. Dark, wooden doors darted the halls every now and then but I ran past them at full speed until I hit another set of double doors  and pushed them open, coming to a full stop right inside. The room was open, wide and at least two stories tall, but filled to the broom with tables and lab equipment splayed out every where. One table sat in the middle of the room, clear of any clutter except for a stack of files piled on top that held all of our next case files.  Soni, Zack and Court were all ready gathered around, whispering quietly and sipping their morning coffee when I stumbled in.

“I’m here!” I shouted between gasps of air, doubling over as I fought to catch my breath. “Hot damn,” I heard Soni say, “I’ve never seen you run that fast before.”

“I usually try not to,” I breathed, finally straightening up as air reached my lungs. 

I blinked twice, looking around the small office/lab we called home. I leaned against the small slab of cement that was the table, my vision blurring as I attempted to catch my breath. For a moment, I allowed the heat to go to my head and I half hoped I was dreaming and would wake up back in my apartment, tucked safely in my satin sheets. Truth was, I never slept in that bed. My nights all most always ended up at the desk by the window.

“How do I look?” I asked, straightening up.

“Like you need a damn fine cup of coffee,” Soni replied with a chuckle, “Sadly all we have is Gava Port.” She passed me a small cup of coffee that still had steam poring from it.

“Guys, it’s time,” Zack said, looking up from his watch.

I took  the cup and a deep breath, breathing in the caffinated beverage, “Here goes nothing,” I mumbled shaking my head. I started back to toward the stairs, but the team started off toward Soni’s lab.

“We’re meeting down here?” I asked, following after them.

“You seriously need to read your email,” Court shook her head at me, “We’re meeting in the Spare room.”

I paused, long enough to send her a confused frown as we passed by Zack’s chaos of lab equipment into Soni’s forensic’s lab. This room was much more open, though even darker than the lab. Only a small amount of tools and an empty table set in the middle of the room. A small desk set in the back. Metal doors concealed dead bodies still being exhumed. Much like the lab, the lights flickered, barely lighting the place to see. Strings of white lights wrapped around the ceiling to add a soft lighting source, that’d been Zack’s idea and it worked well, even in Soni’s office.

The spare room, however, was not as nicely lit and as we walked in, dim and flickering florescent lighting greeted us. Few beams of sun filtered in through open windows, but still didn’t offer enough lighting to see much.

I did, however, manage to make out the four figures all ready standing in the middle of the room chatting quietly.

“’bout damn time,” Chief Mayberry snapped.

I bit back a response, reminding myself that we needed his approval to keep UCU running.

“What’s this about, Chief?” I asked in my best, well-mannered voice, I took a long sip of coffee, waiting for his response and for the bitter taste of black coffee to wash over the sarcasm demanding to seep out.

The Chief rolled his eyes, “This is Nate Remington and his team of investigators. They’re from Florida and looking into a string of crimes that might link here.  You’re going to be helping them out-” He paused, stomping up to meet me so we stood black steel-toed boot to black steel-toed boot,  finger wagging in my face as he spoke, “And not a damn soul is to know about it. Understood?”

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[ineffablywriting]

waking up sober

one: the beginning 

Savannah Harper, 22.

Self assured psych student.

She’s nonchalant, sarcastic, and her biggest achievement to date is being able to down five jagerbombs in less than 30 seconds.

-

Harry Styles, 23.

Overachieving law student.

He’s never faced a problem that couldn’t be fixed with a little help from his Russian friend - vodka.

a story of late nights, unorthodox household plants, and a trip to Vegas that changes everything

UNI AU co-written with @faux-styles

“Ok will you please stay still? I need to bloody think,” Harry groaned, staring down at the paper clasped between his fingers as if they held the answer.

“What do you even need to think about? It’s pretty obvious what’s written on the paper there,” Savannah rolled her eyes shifting in her seat. “And I’m sorry if I can’t sit still. I need to use the loo but someone won’t let me out.”

“I’m thinking about the legal matters of it all. I need to call a lawyer,” he muttered, completely disregarding Savannah’s bladder issues.  

“How are you going to call a lawyer if you’re 35,000 feet up in the air, Harry?” she deadpanned.

“Thanks for pointing that out, by the way. Thanks so much for that,” the sarcasm rolled quick and swift off Harry’s tongue. Apparently he became rather sarcastic in moments of hysteria.  

Savannah laughed. “Come here, you should take the window seat. Maybe it’ll calm you down,” she teased.

“One, I’m not completely daft. I know you’re trying to get me to let you out into the aisle. Two, you’re absolutely not funny and three, will you please stop mucking about, this is a serious matter,” Harry implored, even as the stiffness in his shoulders melted away slightly as he turned to glance at her.

“You know, I can’t be serious about something that’s been signed by Elvis. I mean look at that, he swirled the ‘E’ and everything,” she leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snorted at the signature. “Not even the Queen’s that fancy.”

“I’m somewhat sure that’s not true, Sav,” Harry commented, momentarily distracted. “I reckon the Queen would have more class than Elvis.”

“Ok, but Elvis is the King of Rock n Roll,” she pointed out matter of factly.

“And she’s the bloody Queen of England. Also, she’s still alive.”

“Semantics,” Savannah waved him off.

“I’m so done with you,” he shook his head, frustration seeping from every pore on his body. “Like, I’m actually done with you.”

“Don’t be so rude, Harry. You’re ruining this entire trip,” Savannah stated, giving him a disapproving glare. “Now budge up so I can use the loo.”

“My dad’s going to kill me,” Harry whined, turning to once again stare at the damning piece of paper clutched between his fingers and once again ignoring Savannah.

“Bloody hell,” she sighed. “It’s probably not even legally binding. Just calm down and wait until we land before having a breakdown. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

“Savannah, I don’t think you understand the fact that this is a legal document which means this will be on my file forever,” Harry tried to explain. “My dad is actually going to murder me. I can see the lecture already coming - what will people think, Harry. You’re going to be a lawyer. Our reputation is on the line,” he mimicked in what Savannah thought was meant to be an impression of his dad.

“Just don’t tell him,” she shrugged. “You’re acting like you’ve committed a felony. Relax, Styles, it’s not like you’re going to jail for this.”

“That’s not the point!” he exclaimed, scrunching up the already crumbled piece of paper between his fingers, even more.

“That’s not the point,” Savannah mocked, in a startlingly accurate Harry impersonation.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, and I’m not going to stop bothering you until you let me out,” she crossed her arms smugly.

Harry sighed in defeat, his shoulder slumping with exhaustion as he gave up. “Fine, but can you bring me a drink when you come back?” he asked, rubbing the side of his head to try and ease the growing headache.

Savannah huffed, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing up. “First, you keep me captive and now you’re demanding things. I see where this is going.”

“Sod off,” Harry scoffed defensively.

“With pleasure,” she smiled sweetly, pushing her way past Harry. She slipped her right hand into the pouch of the seat in front of him as she passed, carefully pulling out his small vial of sleeping pills and slipping them into her pocket. “Be right back.”

Harry snorted, once again turning back to his newfound obsession with the document before him. Savannah scoffed as she walked away.

It didn’t take her long to return, a cup of water clamped tightly between her fingers. “Here you go, you wanker,” she shoved the cup towards him as she pushed her way back to her seat.

“No need to be so bloody rude about it,” Harry glared at her, moving his gangly legs back to allow her room to pass by.

Savannah didn’t reply, opting to simply glance at him from the corner of her eye as he chugged down his drink.

He frowned a little once he was done, staring at the plastic cup strangely.

“Everything alright?” she asked him casually, picking at her fingernails.

“Water tasted a little strange,” he mused.

“Oh, yeah,” Sav said, as if she’d just remembered to warn him. “I forgot to tell you, I slipped in a couple of your pills,” she shrugged.

“You did what?” Harry hissed, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“You were going to give yourself premature greys,” she defended herself. “And I couldn’t in good conscience sit by and not do anything about it.”

“You drugged me,” Harry said, sounding thoroughly stunned. “You actually drugged me,” he repeated.

“It was for the greater good,” she explained, before muttering under her breath, “I can’t believe they’re taking so long to work.”

“And I can’t believe you drugged me,” he said once again, apparently having heard her.

“You’ll thank me when the flight’s over,” she said confidently, seeming entirely unfazed by the glare Harry was shooting at her.

“The only thing I’m going to be thanking you with, is a law suit,” he hissed, but Savannah was able to note the faint slurring of his words and perked up slightly.

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” she pat his hand gently where it was resting between them.

“I hate you,” Harry said in defeat, his eyes beginning to droop as sleep fought to overtake him. “How many bloody drugs did you give me?”

“Uh, like three?” Savannah posed it as a question. “It said take a maximum of three.”

“Once I’m conscious enough again,” Harry murmured, eyes closing. “We’re going to have a very serious conversation about this.”

“Just go to sleep, Harry. God knows you need it,” Savannah sighed, using the airplane supplied blankets to cover him.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” he sighed, and not for the first time Savannah felt a sympathetic tugging on her heart as sleep overtook him and she was left to her own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Savannah agreed with a sigh, letting all pretenses of perkiness drop as she stared at him with worry instead. “Me neither.”

-

*four months ago*

Savannah Harper liked to consider herself independent enough that she didn’t need a man in her life to keep her happy. And a year and a half ago, she was convinced that no man in the whole of England could ever change that, could ever make her lose control of herself enough to let someone in. She didn’t think that she’d ever fall for anyone enough that she’d make them such a significant part of her life - significant enough that she’d move in with them and consider her chances at a happily ever after.

Savannah hadn’t wanted a boyfriend, she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. And it had all been going well for her, too, until one day it wasn’t and she found herself falling for a boy.

And, unsurprisingly to her, it didn’t end very well.

A sudden turn of events had left her just out of an eighteen-month-long relationship with some guy from her psych lecture, and with the one thing that she didn’t think would ever happen to her - a broken heart. However, Savannah being Savannah meant she had been intent on keeping her life as normal as she possibly could, despite what had happened. She was fine, she told herself constantly - the phrase alone becoming a mantra of sorts. But being fine came with a price - and in her case it had been her two overly worried best friends waiting for her to have a breakdown.

“You’re going to have to talk about it at some point, Sav,” Alexa said softly, trying not to startle her. “It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

“You should know that better than any of us,” Reyna added, sidling up to Alexa. “Being the future psychologist and all.”

Savannah glared at them, shrugging Alexa’s arm off her shoulder and moving away from the kitchen counter with her cup of tea clasped firmly in her hands. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and she really believed she was.

“No you’re bloody well not,” Reyna crossed her arms across her chest, staring Savannah down. “It’s been, what, three weeks?” she asked rhetorically. “And you’re sitting around in Lex’s flat acting fine while drinking your damn tea and eating two minute noodles straight from the box for breakfast, lunch and dinner. This isn’t healthy!”

“Rey,” Lex warned. “Go easy on her.”

“No,” Reyna glared. “She needs to hear this.”

“What do you expect me to do?!” Savannah exploded, spinning around to face her friends. “He’s been screwing around with other girls, I’m not going to be upset over someone who clearly doesn’t care about me! I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me have a breakdown.”

Reyna’s expression softened. “We’re not him, Sav,” she said quietly.

“You don’t have to pretend to be fine with us,” Alexa added. “You know that.”

“I know,” Sav’s shoulder’s slumped with exhaustion. “I know. But I really am fine. If I wasn’t I’d tell you guys,” she promised. “But I really do feel fine right now, and I don’t want to burden you guys with something so unimportant. Rey, you never even liked Cam. And you warned me against him,” she looked at Alexa. “I just didn’t listen.”

“Bloody hell, you muppet,” Reyna rolled her eyes, crossing the room to engulf her in a hug, Alexa following suit. “You won’t be burdening us. It’s our job to shit talk exes with you.”

“We’re your friends, Sav,” Alexa nodded along. “You’re supposed to ignore us and then come to us if things go wrong. It’s called friendship.”

“Would you like me to spell it out for you?” Reyna joked. “F-R-I-E-N-”

She was interrupted as Savannah shoved her away. “Twat,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“There we are! There’s that smile,” Alexa cooed at her, pinching her cheeks the way you would to a toddler.

“I hate you guys.”

Reyna snorted. “No, you don’t.”

“You don’t even come close to hating us,” Alexa agreed. Savannah pursed her lips, trying to fight off another smile and ultimately failing.  

“I know what we could do,” she said, a thought popping into her head. “To convince you guys that I really am fine.”

“What?” Reyna asked warily, suddenly nervous of what Savannah had conjured in her mind.

“There’s a new club opening up in Mayfair tonight and I got on the guest list. Think it would clear my mind if we went,” she said innocently enough that her friends would have no choice but to agree.

Reyna and Alexa exchanged looks, they still weren’t convinced she was fine and were worried about what she’d do if she were to get drunk in a public place after bottling everything up for three entire weeks. At home, they could monitor how much alcohol Savannah consumed - but at a club, there was no way to tell how much she drank, or what she would do.

“First off,” Reyna began. “How the heck did you end up on the guest list? And secondly, are you sure that’s a good-?” she tried to continue, only to get elbowed in the stomach by Alexa.

“Ignore Reyna. I think it sounds like a great idea,” Lex grinned, ignoring her friend’s glare. It was worth it, however, to see Savannah grin back at them, an excited gleam in her eyes.

-

When they arrived, the club was dank and the music too loud. The dance floor was a sweaty cocoon of hundreds of people all moving to the DJ’s beat, unknowingly heightening the already suffocating atmosphere. And yet despite all this, Savannah Harper found that she was having the time of her life.

In fact, with each shot of alcohol that made its way down her throat and the warmth of several people grinding up against her, thoughts about Cameron and his infidelity began to seep from her mind — which was exactly what she wanted. All she could focus on was the heavy beat of the music and the slight burn of alcohol on the back of her throat.

Savannah thought this was probably the best idea she’d had in years, and wished her friends would join her. They had no idea what they were missing. But Reyna and Alexa simply watched on worriedly as their friend drunkenly swayed to the music as yet another body joined her - handing her another drink.

“I’m getting another drink!” Reyna called over the loud music, catching Alexa’s eye and waving her empty glass.

“I’ll stay here and watch Sav,” she yelled back giving Reyna the ok to leave for the bar. “Shit,” she muttered glancing back out at the crowd, which had become rather Savannah-less. “I take my eyes off you for two minutes,” Alexa muttered, heading in the direction of the pulsing dance floor.

But Savannah was nowhere to be seen. She’d disappeared into the crowd, essentially leaving everything behind her. All her worries had flown through the window the moment she had downed her eighth drink, and suddenly nothing seemed all that important - except maybe finding some more alcohol. Everything had started to blur together, and she could feel herself swaying to the beat as it vibrated through her every nerve. She felt like she was floating.

Everything in her mind was blank, so when random hands found their place on her hips, she didn’t even think twice about it. She didn’t really think twice about anything that happened after, really. She forgot all about the past few weeks, and about her friends who were searching the club frantically for her as she gripped the tall stranger’s hand and left the club with him.

For one night, she decided to forget who she was, and that’s exactly what she did. She snuffed out any lingering doubts floating in her mind by taking one final shot, before she stumbled out of the club and into the back of an Uber with the equally intoxicated stranger.

-

When Savannah woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and in a bed that was not her own, she just knew that she was going to be in trouble. She had no clue where she was, how she had gotten there, nor how she was going to get home. She didn’t even know where her phone was.

“Shit,” she muttered bringing her hand up to her face and rubbing the lingering sleep from her eyes. “Shit,” she repeated noting the outline under the sheets of a naked guy beside her. A guy whose name she couldn’t remember even if her life depended on it. “Shit,” she cursed again.

“Shut up,” grumbled the voice beside her and Savannah froze realising she’d woken him up. She held her breath, waiting for him to put the pieces together.

Lying there, she counted the seconds in her head—which wasn't all that hard to do seeing as her head was pounding along to them.  Her eyes took on the shape of saucers as the guy began to move, shamelessly staring as the muscles in his back rippled. She averted her eyes when she realised that he had turned around to face her.

“Shit,” he echoed Savannah’s exclamations as he slowly sat up, careful to keep the white bed sheet covering his privates. The two stared at one another in awkward silence, both waiting for the other to be the first to instigate the much-needed, albeit extremely awkward, conversation they were undoubtedly going to have.

“I don’t remember your name,” Savannah broke the silence rather bluntly. The awkward atmosphere was making her skin crawl and all she wanted to do was to get out of there. “Sorry,” she apologised afterwards, knowing her words had sounded standoffish and that her tone was rather rude. “I was planning to leave earlier, I just don’t remember… much.”

“It’s Harry,” he grinned at her, trying to hold back a chuckle. “And it’s ok, seeing as I can’t seem to remember your name either. Sally or something right?”

“Savannah.”

“Right! Savannah,” Harry clicked his finger repeating her name. “Well, Savannah, seeing as you’re still here, do you think you could fill me in on what happened last night?”

She wasn’t sure if his question took on an accusatory tone, almost as if he was blaming her, or if she was imagining things. Regardless, this caused Savannah to raise her eyebrows, as if daring him continue with that train of thought.

“I was hoping you could tell me the same thing,” she said, carefully crossing her arms across her chest and making sure to keep her half of the bed sheet covering her decency. She didn’t want this Harry person to get anymore eyefuls of her body than he’d probably already seen last night.

“I’m assuming we shagged,” Harry shrugged like it was a natural occurrence—which, from the sight of him, probably was. God, what if he had an STI?

“From our state of dress—”

“More like undress,” Harry muttered, cutting her off. “And god, can you get any more formal,” he commented - Savannah chose to ignore him.

“From our state of dress, and the fact that this room smells like sex and cheap cologne, I’d say that’s a solid assumption,” she rolled her eyes, letting sarcasm seep into her last few words.

“Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Whose cologne are you calling cheap?”

“Yours, obviously,” she tried to raise a brow and from the amused quirk to Harry’s lips she knew she’d failed.

“Whatever,” he sighed, flopping onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. “I can’t remember anything and I don’t think you can either, so I’m going to have a shower and you're going to leave,” Harry said, grabbing what seemed to be a pair of boxers off the floor and pulling them up his legs, keeping his back to Savannah.

It wasn't exactly an unwelcome sight, she mused, watching as his body moved to do his brain’s bidding. But she had more pressing matters to address right now.

“You’re right, I don’t remember anything,” Savannah agreed. “Like whether we used a condom or not?” she probed and watching carefully, she was rewarded with the tensing of Harry’s shirtless form.

“Shit,” Harry cursed. “Are you on the pill?” he spun around, panic clearly obvious on his face.

“Yes, but—”

“Thank god,” Harry let out a breath in relief.

“You do realise the pill is only about 92% accurate,” Savannah told him dryly, making him once again freeze up. She hadn’t been sure whether to be thankful that Reyna had told her the nifty pill-fact at the time, but now she was sending her friend a silent thanks. “And anyway, that’s not why I asked. There’s the more pressing matter of whether or not you’re carrying around an STI,” she spoke casually even though she was nervous; more so about Harry’s reaction than his answer.

True to her thoughts, Harry glared at her. “I’m clean.”

“If you say so, mate,” Savannah teased, although from the look of absolute fury on Harry’s face, she thought it was safe to assume he was telling the truth.

“If anyone here has one, it’s probably you,” Harry shot back, standing up from the bed and moving around to stand in front of Savannah, who also jumped up to stand, not liking the way Harry was towering over her. Even at her full height however, she was still a head shorter than him.

“And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, glaring up at him as green clashed with green.

“It means that you basically threw yourself at me last night,” Harry smirked, though she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it.

“Oh really? And how could you possibly know that if you don’t remember anything that happened?” she challenged.

Harry shrugged, “Since you can’t remember what happened either, you can’t prove it didn't happen,” he shot back cheekily.

Savannah stared up at the infuriating boy before her, “You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I had sex with you.”

“I mean, you came back with me - it is my house. What does this say about you?” he grinned, obviously thinking he had won.

“It tells me that I make bad decisions when I’m drunk. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to get dressed and get out and away from you, wanker.”  

“No need for wanking today,” Harry chuckled to himself as he walked over to an adjoining door that Savannah assumed led to a bathroom.

“Ugh,” she scoffed at him, leaning over to pick up her discarded bra. “I repeat... you’re disgusting.”

“If you say so!” he laughed shutting the door and allowing Savannah the small amount of privacy she needed to slip on her bra. She abandoned the search for her knickers after a couple of minutes - she couldn’t seem to locate them anywhere - but she knew that she couldn’t walk out of this apartment wearing nothing.

Glancing around the room, her eyes zeroed in on the dresser directly opposite the bed and Savannah contemplated making a not-so-wise decision. “Screw it,” she muttered marching over and carefully pulling the first drawer open - coming across nothing particularly useful.

The next few drawers revealed nothing but socks and t-shirts and she felt herself growing frustrated before she finally pulled open a drawer that revealed an entire collection of neatly folded boxers and briefs in every single colour imaginable - “c’mon, who the hell wears mustard boxers?” she grumbled to herself.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she chose a plain black pair with the tags still on and quickly pulled them on - it was either that or go commando - before stealing a quick glance around the bedroom to check if she’d left anything behind. Satisfied with her work, she headed out the door and into a corridor that opened up into a kitchen not quite as pristine as the bedroom had been last night. Huh, Savannah thought, snippets of the night flitting through her mind, bringing with them feelings she’d never quite been privy to before.

Choosing to push those disturbing thoughts aside, Savannah spotted a coffee machine sat innocently on the counter next to the sink. Almost as if she had been struck by a baseball bat, her hangover came back in full force - a dull throbbing pain at the back of her head that threatened to tear its way out of her skull. Walking - or rather -  stumbling over to the front door without any coffee in her system simply seemed like an impossible feat now.

“Sod it,” she muttered pulling the dress she’d only just grabbed off the couch over her head and leaving it hitched around her hips, she made a beeline over to the coffeepot. She decided that even though she risked spending more time in the presence of a one night stand she didn’t fancy being around, a large, steaming cup of coffee would be well worth it in the end.

The noises that came along with the opening and closing of cupboards in search for coffee really weren’t helping Savannah’s headache, and with every crash and clang of pots and pans bumping against one another, she felt her frustration rising and her patience weaning.

“Where the bloody hell is the coffee? Does he drink anything other than tea?” she cursed, ducking her head into one of the lower cupboards in desperation.  

“The coffee’s in the top right cupboard,” came a very entertained voice.

Savannah swore as her already pounding head bumped against the marble counter in her haste to turn around. Rubbing her temples, she looked over to see Harry with only a towel wrapped around his waist and an amused smile on his face as he eyed Savannah’s attire.

“I didn’t peg you as a thief,” he observed, nodding towards her lower body.

“I didn't peg you as the type to read erotica,” she shot back, eyeing the Sylvia Day book she’d just spotted lying open against a fruit bowl beside her, before reaching up into the top cupboard and grabbing the coffee out.

“Not mine,” he replied, pulling out two mugs from a cupboard beside Savannah as she brewed the two of them some coffee.

“Right...”

“It’s not,” Harry insisted.

“I don’t care,” she retorted.

“It’s my mate’s girlfriend’s,” he explained anyway.

“I really don’t care, Harvey,” Savannah purposefully used the wrong name.

“It’s Harry,” he corrected, and by the tone of his voice, she could tell it had grated on his nerves.

“I still don’t care.”

“Bloody hell, my hangover’s getting worse,” he complained.

“Aw, did Harvey have too much to drink last night?” she cooed at him.

Muttering under his breath, Harry left the kitchen and disappeared from sight as he turned the corner that led to his bedroom.

Despite knowing that it was pointless, Savannah hoped he wouldn't return until she was out of his flat. Much to her despair, he walked back out moments later - still shirtless, this time wearing a pair of low hanging sweatpants on his hips that just drew all of Savannah’s attention to the deep V-lines leading downwards. She looked away quickly before he got the chance to catch her ogling.  

Just as he entered the kitchen space, the chime on the coffee machine indicated it was ready. So, without wasting a second, Savannah poured herself a cup of the steaming black beverage, instantly taking a massive slurp and burning her tongue in the process. She didn’t mind. Instead she rather welcomed the slight pain on her tongue as it briefly distracted her from the headache that was still hammering around her head.

“Oi, where’s mine?” Harry’s grating voice brought her back down to earth, and when she turned to glance at him, he had a surprisingly adorable pout on his lips. This only seemed to frustrate Savannah.

“It’s your house, pour it for yourself,” she shrugged.

His pout deepening, Harry fixed himself a cup of the coffee.

“Well, I’m done,” Savannah dropped her cup into the already overflowing sink. She glanced down at herself and blushed a little, knowing how much of a mess she probably was.

Pulling down the dress so that it wasn’t hitched so high up around her hips, she turned to Harry and opened her mouth a couple of times before settling on a simple, “goodbye.”.

“Uh, see ya around,” came Harry’s distracted reply, his thoughts occupied as he nursed his mug thoughtfully.

“Probably not,” Savannah quipped, though the words didn’t come out as rudely as she’d intended.

AN: helloooooo, it’s been well over a year and we are super duper sorry for the ridiculous wait, but it’s finally hereeeeee!! Chapter one of WUS has fnally been posted. Please let us know what you think by sending us a message, whether you’d like to see it on any other social media platforms (wattpad? AO3?)? and what you expect in the next few chapters! 

Hope you guys enjoy it!!! 

xo Lola and Faye

[bellamymfblake]

So I just finished watching season one of Teen Wolf (yes in literally one day I hate myself) and I haven’t watched it since it aired.

But anyways, MY GOD. Two episodes in I felt all my teenage angst seeping out and all my love for Sterek seeping out of my pores.

I didn’t realize that I literally DONT like Lydia s1 at all? I don’t remember her being so damn annoying. I know I come to love her soon tho bc I literally don’t remember not liking her character lol

Always love me some Stiles and found myself laughing out loud at his sarcasm like I did when I first watched.

I don’t like Allison at all, I’m sorry but she’s too annoying. “I’m not strong I have to be stronger but I can’t because I’m so weak but if I train I’ll be strong but what if something happens and I’m still to weak but it’ll be fine bc I’m strong, but also....I’m too weak” that’s my impersonation of her character lol

I LOVE LOVE LOVE Danny ❤️ and always will lol

** also just like I did back then, I HATE when people call Stiles “stiles Stilinski” it makes no sense to me lol**

I love them 🥺❤️

Also side note, season 2 is about the Kanima which wasn’t my fave season so I’m reluctant to watch lol