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sonasnowdrop · 2 years ago

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Lil Zinel fic cuz I’m beyond bored. Wanna give a warming for self harm, pls read the tags on my posts b4 actually going into em. Especially my fics, anyway, hope y’all enjoy!

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“Healing.”

Zaza laid atop his mattress, shifting and stirring around. The mansion was rather silent tonight. Aside from Lapis’ snores. She slept on a hammock above Zaza’s bed.

Zaza squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn’t help but open them again as the sound of scrapping and scratching filled his ears. He assumed the sound was all in his head, and tried to ignore it.

It was silent for a moment, until the scratching noise returned not even ten minutes later. The boy laid flat on his back, when realizing the noise faded, he yawned, and curled into his blanket in an attempt to fall back asleep.

The cracks and scraps returned, realizing these noises were real. Zaza slowly sat up, feeling rather exhausted, he sleepily blinked away the fog in his vision.

He tapped the back of Lapis’ hammock in an attempt to wake her. She stammered. “I’ll be right back…” Zaza whispered, the blue gem stirred. She was awake whoever, she nodded and turned back around.

The boy checked the time, it was nearly two in the morning. Who could be making such a ruckus at this time of night? Maybe it was Pôgél, he was known for rummaging through the fridge at this hour.

Zaza slid off the bed, slipped on his puffy bunny slippers and made his way to the stair case. He flinched when hearing another crack. It seemed every time he heard it, it sounded more aggressive, no, desperate rather than last time. The boys puffy white brows furrowed, with each step he grew more and more uncomfortable and nervous.

What if it was an intruder? Not like that’d be an issue, since he does have powers after all. But the thought of a stranger in his house made him nervous.

He took more steps forward with a wary and racing mind, though, his thoughts were interrupted once he reached the staircase. There standing in the darkness, only illuminated by the moons light spilling into the windows, was the familiar outline of pink tightly tied up pigtails, and jester clothes. The boy squinted when realizing this was no intruder, it was his friend. She was hunched over and seemed to be crying and…shaking?

Zaza took some steps and called out to his jester buddy.

“Spinel…?” The boy softly called out, so he wouldn’t startled the gem. Zaza was immediately met with a sight that made him slightly tremble.

Spinel quickly whipped her head around, tears streamed down her rosy red cheeks. Her eyes as wide as the space between her and the white haired boy. She looked like a deer caught in a cars headlights. Her entire body trembled and her pigtails were low on her head, she seemed to be holding something shiny very very close to her chest.

Zaza noticed her lips quivering, she looked as if she were going to say something to him, but only small whimpers could escape her throat.

“Spinel, what happened?” Zaza uttered, while slowly approaching the pink gem as to not frighten her, she still quickly stood up and backed away.

Due to her standing in a different spot than before, Zaza was able to see clearly that whatever she was holding so firmly, she didn’t want him to see. Was she ashamed of something? What did she do? Then he noticed, she was also covering her gem.

Zaza swallowed a big lump in his throat and took another step forward, “Spinel, please answer me, I want to know what’s wrong…” the boy said softly, fear filled the spinels sockets as a river fell from her eyes.

By now, all the sleepiness that he was feeling before completely vanished as it was now replaced by worry and fear.

Every time the boy took a step forward, the gem took a step back. Zaza could now see a more panicked expression painted on Spinel, she squeezed whatever object she had tight and didn’t utter a sound. Her eyes darted around.

The boy parted his lips to speak, he was startled to see the gem bolt towards the warp pad in the living room. He stood there in shock, but quickly regained himself and speeded after the jester.

“Spinel, wait!” He shouted, confusion filled his tone. The girl didn’t dare look back, not even a little glance. Her eyes fixated on the glimmering teleportation pad ahead, desperate to escape. But why?

She was nearly there until she was suddenly tackled to the ground by the person she wished so desperately to be away from at the moment. She yelped when Zaza tackled her with full force.

Spinel fell harshly onto her stomach, Zaza laid atop of her.

The gem cried out for him to leave her alone, he ignored her yelps however and immediately went for whatever she was grasping. Which proved to be rather difficult.

She kicked and frantically flailed her arms and legs about, making it very difficult for Zaza to grasp the item she was holding. Zaza firmly held her waist in an attempt to keep her still.

The white haired boy eventually managed to grip her wrist and snatch away whatever she so desperately didn’t want him to see. Once he glanced at the object, his dark skin slightly paled. He held a large kitchen knife, the end of the knife is what frightened him the very most, it had pink glimmering fragments at the end of it. The boys hold around Spinel tightened as he threw the utensil as far away as possible. A loud thud echoed as it hit the mansions walls, then the tiled floors.

Spinel continuously squirmed underneath him, trying to free herself from his weight and hold. “Z-Zaza, let go!” She shouted, the boy released her for a moment, before she could get away he grasped her shoulders and firmly pinned her to the floor on her back.

The alternative boy’s eyes widened in horror, his suspicions being confirmed as he tearfully stared at the jesters chest. Spinel’s gem was covered in scratches and cracks and chipped corners. His grip on her shoulders lightened and she scurried out of his looming shadow.

Zaza rubbed the back of his head before trailing his vision onto Spinel’s mitched matched eyes, which were filled to the brim with tears. She pouted, before turning around and flopping to the floor. Her sobs echoed throughout the mansions halls, Zaza crawled up to her, worry and panic sprayed his face.

The boy placed his hand on her side in a comforting manner. He didn’t say a word, his actions acting more powerful than his words. Until he did finally decide to speak,

“Spinel, p-please,” he stammered, the gem didn’t turn over to face him, but he assumed she was somewhat listening “let me heal your gem before…before it becomes worse.” The boy begged, Spinel didn’t respond, to Zaza’s dismay, she just kept sobbing.

Zaza wore an extremely saddened and worried face, he slid his hand underneath her small form, and lifted her. She immediately pressed herself against the boys chest, and began to weep even more, she gripped his back tightly, and her arms drooped to the floor.

The boy placed one hand onto his poor friend’s back, and the other held the back of her head. He rubbed her back slowly in a comforting manner, he murmured words of reassurance to ease her whimpers.

This continues for about twenty minutes, the boy rocked her back and forth with many reassuring words. The gem eventually calmed down, her cries soon turned into soft sniffles, Zaza sighed in relief and lifted his head from atop hers. He was very focused on fixing Spinel’s cracked gem, but everytime he attempted to pull away and look, she’d squeeze him tighter or cover her gem so he couldn’t see. The boy split his lips,

“Spinel?” He said quietly, she nodded her head, but didn’t speak. The boy continued, “Please, let me heal your gem…I just want to help.” Zaza’s voice trembled, as he begged her to allow him to help. Once again, he was met with silence, the gem beneath him shuffled occasionally. He swallowed the fear forming a lump in his throat as nothing but silence filled the air. He grew more and more nervous, afraid Spinel would never let him fix the damage she caused to herself.

At some point, Spinel shakily pushed herself away from Zaza. They both studied one another’s facial expressions, Zaza looked tired, worried, and scared all at the same time, while Spinel, also looked awfully tired, but also hurt, and weak. She raised her hand up to her damaged gem, the girl traced the cracks she created with her fingers, she picked at it like it were a wound. She seemingly fought the urge to make the cuts even deeper. She couldn’t help but notice Zaza flinch as she clawed at herself.

The boy grasped her wrist, she turned over to him, as he let go the gem could see the concern in his eyes. She couldn’t do it, especially not in front of him.

She swallowed her discomfort and turned to the boy with teary eyes, before she could say anything, Zaza cupped her cheeks and whipped her sorrow away with his thumbs. “Spinel…” the boy sighed, before he could get another word out, the gem interrupted him,

“Okay…” she said, her voice shaking “You can heal it…”

Zaza sighed in relief for a second time, he moved his hands down to her shoulders and thanked her, “I swear I’m gonna help you okay? You’ll never even think about doing this again.” He said in an attempt to reassure his jester friend. The gem couldn’t help but very faintly smile.

Zaza moved downwards, being eye level to Spinel’s gem. She looked away, not being able to bring herself to stare at Zaza as he healed her. The boy held the girls waist to keep her still, and gently pressed his lips onto the center of her gem. Just then, she felt a shock spring from her gem to the rest of her body, and just like that, all the damage she caused to herself was completely gone. Despite being fully healed, Zaza remained fixated on her gem to make sure every crack and scratch was gone. Spinel couldn't help but feel her cheeks heat up under his gaze.

He soon rose and met Spinel’s eyes, she looked away, feeling flushed again as he stared. The two sat there in silence for a minute, at least ten minutes. Spinel was the first to speak, not without looking away from Zaza, she just couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with him.

“I-I’m..so sorry…” the girl stammered, she felt herself choke as her words clumped in her throat. She met Zaza’s gaze, he looked on with a worried smile,

“Don’t be, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. You…you have to tell me about these feelings.” The boy said, holding the troubled soul gently by the shoulders “you scared the absolute daylights out of me.” He sighed, looking down. Spinel felt an overwhelming amount of guilt rush over her for making Zaza worry. She wanted to apologize again, but kept her lips sealed.

“How about you come with me? To my room?” He asked, silently hoping she’d say yes, he was fearful of leaving her alone now, afraid what she might do to herself if alone.

Fortunately, she nodded her head in agreement. The boy sighed, and stood up, he helped his jester companion to her feet. He walked over to the knife he threw earlier and made sure to firmly wash it before accompanying Spinel. Once he did that, he led the pink gem up to his room.

Luckily, Lapis was still in her hammock sleeping, it’d be embarrassing if Lapis came down and witnessed Zaza healing Spinel.

“Cmon’ we both can sleep in my bed. You can watch my phone to help you sleep easier, if you want?” Zaza turned to the jester, she slid onto the bed and nodded. The boy neatly tucked in his friend, and put on some videos for them to both enjoy.

Spinel lies her head on Zaza’s chest, using it as a pillow.

“We can do something fun tomorrow.” Zaza suggested, and put his arm around the girl. The gem in question heated up again at his affection. “that sound good?” The boy asked, Spinel nodded.

Eventually, the gem fell asleep. When the boy noticed, he set his phone on the nightstand, he moved carefully to not wake his friend. After making himself more comfortable, he too fell asleep

#sonawritesstuff #shut up sona #zaza upsidedown #spinel #lapis lazuli #Zaza x spinel #Zinel #Zinel fic #// Sh #// self harm #this was a rewrite of another fic I saw !!#original is in the comments !#this is like more of an experiment thing #it’s still canon to the universe #it’s just a big ol time skip #wanna see if this goes well then I’ll post season 1 of dqftim #late blogging #might delete l8r

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reel-fear · 2 years ago

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For the record I want to revisit Shockwave's Debt's so badly and feel so much motivation for the story parcially bc of this one amazing comment I got posting the first chapter of the first version. Just the fact someone went out of their way to write such a sweet comment dissecting my story makes me want to make the best possible story I can both for them and bc I just hope one day I get more comments like this on my stuff... It's just super sweet and I wanted to share it <3

#ramblez #I don't even know if they read the rewrite or ever saw another one of my fics but this is the thing I read when I need a boost bc god #its so nice...#sorry I've been talkactive lately Im just feeling chatty KJHSDFKGJHSDFKGJHSD

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midnightwind · 2 months ago

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trying to get my Rook origin story in a state to share like shaking a bag of dog treats in front of friends going "you want to beta read my silly fanfic, you want to beta read it so bad, you can't resist looking at it"

#only like One friend has actual series knowledge about DA is the real tragedy #and another is playing the series but like Just started Origins (hi Nikki)#my actual editor friend would need so much context and I don't wanna put that on her #and I'm like so shy otherwise ksdshjdf #I haven't been in an active fandom where I wanted to write in like a decade #even then I didn't share my writing in a way where people could actually find it by going into the tags LMAO #me having One (1) bad fandom experience 12 years ago: sitting in an empty room is better actually #I'm also like this Rook Origin is almost 6k words/12 pages and I think people will find it boring #because it doesn't have any of the companions in it (it does briefly reference Lucanis by title)#and I think the pacing is whack because I wrote it in scattered chunks while doing other parts at the same time #and idk if I'll get to the stuff involving the companions before I fizzle out #so it feels weird to share it before I get it to that point or properly plan out what parts I'm writing #this is why my BG3 fic is like 50 pages of random shit between game events that never saw the light of day #except Nikki got to see the document lmao (hi again)#need to sit down and just do heavy editing even though it means like either cutting a third of it or doing a heavy rewrite #the first like 4 paragraphs feel like a chore to read through which is Not Good #and I don't love how I tried to wrap it up but continuing it to a better conclusion feels like rambling for another 10 pages y'know #anyways hi stream of consciousness losing twitter has brought my curse of gab back here

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goatgoesmbe · 3 days ago

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You're a medic at Taskforce 141.

Except. you're still in medical school, at the final year, and must complete an elective rotation.

You applied for a specialized field elective, which is why you're here.

So expect more stress and sleep deprivation. finals. thesis. reports. all that on top of your work.

No time to care about yourself, messy hair, crumpled uniform worn to sleep, eyebags.

Of course, you work under supervision- a decent man really. He was just doing his job, but it pissed you off how he diminished you sometimes- making you feel like you can't do your job with many stuff on your plate already (which is true I guess, but- come on, you're here for the experience)

Fortunately, there are an odd four that somehow always made your day better.

Like how the Captain stepped in every time your supervisor not acknowledging you.

Or a certain sergeant with a mohawk who for some reason always needed something to patch up. He's probably just wreckless- but you like to think it's because he wanted to see you

Another sergeant- which was the kindest of the bunch. Will sometimes get you a cup of coffee how you like it, even accompany you during lunch- handfeeding you as you are busy studying for finals.

And the lieutenant cared about you in his own way.

Like that one time you were proof-reading your thesis late at night (or early morning) in the rec room..

"Your methodology is weak."

You jumped so hard that your laptop nearly toppled over.

Lieutenant Ghost stood behind you, arms crossed over his broad chest, silent as a ghost as he glanced at your screen, unimpressed.

"What-"

He ignored the question and nodded at your laptop. "You're making assumptions about patient stabilization times. Your sample size is too small. And your survival rate data is incomplete."

You frowned, feeling offended. "Excuse me-?"

Ghost exhaled, the closest thing to a sigh you'd ever heard from him.

He reached over, scrolling through your document with annoying precision, stopping at a paragraph.

"Here. You said field tourniquet applications reduce fatality rates by 60%, but you didn’t specify by mechanism—exsanguination control or delayed shock treatment?"

You stared. Not at the screen. At him.

This man—this cold, intimidating, emotionally-unavailable lieutenant—was critiquing her thesis at one in the morning.

"You… you read this?" You asked, incredulous.

He didn’t look at her. "You left your notes unsecured last week. I glanced through them."

"Glanced? You just ripped apart my entire methodology!"

He finally met your eyes, gaze sharp, unwavering.

"If you’re going to write a thesis based on field medicine, do it right. I won’t have you publishing half-baked conclusions based on incomplete data."

You blinked. Once. Twice.

He straightened, arms still crossed. "Rewrite them all tomorrow, get some sleep, or you’ll make more mistakes."

And just like that, he turned, heading toward the exit.

You called after him. "Lieutenant."

He paused.

"…Thanks," You mumbled with a smile.

He said nothing, but in the dim light, you swore you saw the faintest blush at the high of his cheeks- peeking behind his balaclava. And then he turned to walk away, disappearing into the night.

i like making reader to be miserable but loved, so- because let's be real, we read fics because we're miserable and wanted to be loved

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im-sleepdeprived · 9 months ago

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do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again.

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him. The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away.

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion.

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged.

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad.

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch.

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it.

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved.

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.”

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place.

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her.

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight.

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already.

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything.

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book.

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving.

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though.

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you.

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together.

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more.

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter.

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten.

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge.

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly.

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe.

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response.

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird.

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail.

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay. He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start.

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that.

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away.

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay.

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief.

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again.

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault.

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated.

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this.

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you.

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe.

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit.

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home.

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away.

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer.

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little.

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead.

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face.

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!”

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again.

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him.

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging.

2K notes · View notes

rufflebuttercup · 9 months ago

Text

romance analysis unit | spencer reid

summary: you like spencer. spencer likes you. somehow, you're the only ones on the team who can't see it - and that calls for some BAU intervention.

a/n: i had a bit of an impulsive moment and decided to delete my old blog (vintagecarat) because i wanted a redo, so if you've seen a variation of this fic before, it’s not been stolen - i promise! this is my favourite x reader i've ever written, so i had to rewrite it, of course!

enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day! <3 requests are open!

note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mention of alcohol, mention of canon-typical violence, reader gets hurt, mentions of blood, one bed trope

word count: 5,173

One year, seven months and sixteen days. That's how long it had been since you'd started working at the BAU.

One year, seven months and nine days. That's how long it had been since you'd realized that you had a sickeningly huge crush on Spencer Reid.

It had been a long time since you'd had a crush. The last time had been in elementary school, and you'd been convinced that you were in love with the boy who sat two seats to the left of you in class. He’d gone on to marry your best friend and leave you with a broken heart. In hindsight, though, you were only five.

You'd fallen for people before, and you'd had a string of partners in the past, but it had been such a long time since you'd felt the way you did when you looked at Spencer. Seeing him smile made your heart thud erratically in your chest. Hearing him ramble made you smile in the giddiest and most euphoric way possible. Feeling his fingers brush against yours whenever he handed you your morning coffee made your brain turn to mush and left you unable to form a coherent sentence for at least ten minutes. You were trying your hardest to break that last habit, though.

Your crush on Spencer quickly became a topic that you knew you wanted to keep a secret from the rest of the team. The last thing you needed was all of your progress as the newest team member to be weighed down by a crush that made you blush and giggle like a child.

During a particularly wild night out with the team, though, your plan to keep your crush on Spencer a secret went flying out of the nearest window, along with any shred of dignity you had remaining after drinking one too many shots. It had been a miracle that Spencer hadn't been there at the exact moment the words spouted from your lips. At least you had your drunk self to thank for something, you supposed.

Penelope had been the first one you'd told. Definitely a foolish move on your part, but you were too drunk in the moment to make any logical decisions. Emily and JJ had gone to the bar to get more drinks - "another round of shots", Emily had screamed before dragging JJ away - leaving you and Penelope alone to guard the table in the corner. She was the one who'd brought up the conversation, and naturally, you'd followed along without a care in the world. If there was anything good to come of the situation, then it was the look on Penelope’s face. You wished you’d taken a picture of her expression as the words tumbled from your mouth.

Penelope couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, and once she knew, it was only a matter of time before Emily and JJ knew. She’d screamed so loudly that you’d almost gotten kicked out of the bar for causing a disturbance.

"Place your bets," Emily had shouted over the pounding bass music, slamming a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, "How long until Garcia tells Morgan?"

It barely even took an hour. Emily ended up winning her own bet.

Derek had practically cornered you at your desk the next time he saw you in the bullpen, failing miserably to hide the smirk on his face as he showed you his phone and the babbling, completely unintelligible, texts from Penelope.

With the alcohol out of your system and the devastating hangover a painful memory, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole. Maybe you could quit, or request a transfer, or simply disappear to the other side of the country and become a recluse in the wilderness. Wishful thinking, of course.

From that moment on, you noticed that the rest of the team was messing with you. You didn’t have any proof, but you were sure of it. You’d enter the conference room to find that the only seat remaining was next to Spencer. You’d find yourself paired up with Spencer more often during cases. You and Spencer would frequently be the last two members left in the bullpen at the end of the day.

It wasn't as if you particularly minded. You and Spencer were best friends. You had been from the moment you'd walked into the bullpen on your first day and immediately made a comment about the book he was reading. You were used to being around him more often than not, but it was a lot harder to act as if nothing had changed when you were on edge 90% of the time. You were always wondering if he knew anything about the crush you had on him, or if someone else was about to blurt out the secret that you were trying so desperately hard to keep hidden. You couldn't bring it up because you'd either out yourself or you'd be forced to have a conversation that you were sure would end in rejection.

It was an endless cycle, and you hated it.

You were in the bullpen with Dave, perched on the edge of your desk as he rattled off his famous carbonara recipe. You’d always wanted to be a better cook, and Dave had promised you that he'd teach you, even though he really didn't want you burning his kitchen down to the ground.

“Okay, so, do you add the cheese and the egg together, or separately?”

“You combine the egg first, and then you add the cheese.”

“Oh. Right. So…”

It was at that moment that Derek decided to sidle over to the conversation, perching himself on your desk beside you with an all-too familiar smirk on his face.

“Since when have you been interested in learning how to cook?” he gave you a not-so-subtle nudge.

You shot Derek a glare, “Derek. Don't.”

"Unless you were planning a date for pretty boy over there.”

He nodded his head in Spencer's direction, and you couldn't help but follow his eyes. It was automatic. The sight of Spencer pouring pretty much the entire jar of sugar into his coffee made you smile, but it was definitely an expression you wiped off your face when you heard Derek's laughter.

“I swear to God, Derek…”

“Guys,” JJ interrupted, entering the bullpen with a case file in hand, “We've got a case.”

“Is it bad?”

JJ simply grimaced.

“Of course it is,” you said with a sigh, hopping off your desk. Derek was still failing to hide his laughter beside you, and you swatted at him, “Shut up, Derek.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

It didn’t surprise you at all to see that the seat beside Spencer was the only one available. As you slid into it, you caught Emily smirking at you from across the table, though she was clearly trying to hide it. You shook your head at her, though you couldn’t stop a tiny smile from ghosting over your lips as you focused your attention onto the case file in your hands.

ꨄ︎

It always seemed as though every case at the BAU was worse than the last one.

You’d all been called to a small town in Wyoming after a frantic call from the police department. Three victims had been found in the town’s frozen lake with anchors tied to their ankles to keep them below the surface. A fourth victim had gone missing, and there was no doubt that she’d end up like the others if she wasn’t found. It was a horrifying fact that everybody knew, but nobody wanted to admit.

It was later, almost 11 pm, and you were no closer to solving the case than you had been when you’d first arrived. It was as if the unsub was always three steps ahead of you, and it was frustratingly annoying. You’d spent a good portion of the afternoon scouring through decade old case files. The lead detective was convinced that it was related to a similar case that had happened in the 1990s. You hadn’t found any striking similarities between the two and you were beginning to wonder if there would be any at all. He was clutching at straws, desperately trying to close the case as quickly as possible. You couldn’t fault him for that.

Just as the words on the case file were beginning to blur into one large amalgamation, a gentle hand landed on your shoulder, “Hey,” JJ said, “We’re all heading to the hotel.”

“You go ahead,” you waved dismissively, stifling a yawn, “I’m going to finish looking over these files, and…”

“Hotch’s orders,” she cut you off, “You need a break. We all do.”

You looked to the doors of the precinct and saw the rest of the team ready to leave, muttering amongst themselves in a tired conversation. Aaron raised his eyebrows, almost expectantly, at you.

“Alright,” you didn’t bother trying to hide another yawn, “I’m coming.”

JJ smiled softly at you, almost dragging you to your feet because of how exhausted you were. It didn’t really feel as if your brain was in control of your body as you padded after her. You’d been so caught up in the details of the case that you hadn’t realized how tired you truly were. The sudden rush of air that hit you as you exited the building made you even drowsier.

“You look exhausted,” Spencer chuckled as he helped you into the SUV with a gentle hand on the small of your back that almost made you combust right then and there, "I've seen you tired, but this is another level."

You simply made a little grunt in response. You didn't have enough energy to come up with one of your usual witty comebacks. You clumsily collapsed into your seat, and you leaned your head back against the headrest as your eyes fluttered shut.

It wasn't too long of a drive to the hotel, but that didn't stop you from catching a quick power nap during the brief moment of peace. You couldn't get Spencer out of your head. Or, more specifically, that hand on the small of your back. He'd never touched you like that before. Ever. It was sending your brain spiraling, to be honest.

“We’re here,” Spencer’s voice filtered into your ear as he gently shook your shoulder, “Wake up.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glanced to your left. After a moment, your eyes came back into focus, and it hit you that your head was leaning on Spencer’s shoulder, “Oh,” you quickly sat up, though you almost choked as the seat belt snapped you back against the seat, “Sorry.”

You were so very glad that most of the team weren’t in the same SUV as the two of you because they’d never let you hear the end of it. The only other person was Aaron, and as you caught his eye in the rearview mirror, you could tell that he was trying not to uncharacteristically laugh at you. You did your best to ignore him, which wasn’t exactly easy when your face began to burn with a familiar wave of heat that you’d grown accustomed to.

That chuckle of Spencer’s that you loved so much and made your heart do flip-flops in your chest echoed in your ears, “It’s fine. You clearly needed it. And I do make an excellent pillow.”

You snorted out a laugh, and you gave him a shove as you climbed out of the car beside him, “Shut up.”

The rest of the team were all waiting beside the front desk with their bags as you and Spencer entered. Even though you made sure to look in any other direction, you definitely saw the subtle smirks Derek and Emily were shooting you out of the corner of your eye.

Aaron finished his hushed conversation with the receptionist, and with a curt nod, he moved back over to the rest of the team with key cards in his hand, “They don’t have enough rooms for all of us. Looks like we’re doubling up.”

If Spencer noticed the subtle smirks and side glances from the rest of the team, he never mentioned them.

Instead, he nudged your shoulder, “We’re sharing, right?”

“Of course, we’re sharing. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you took the key card Aaron was holding out to you, and you couldn’t help but notice his lips twitching up into a tiny little-half smirk. You brushed it off, though, “I’m sleeping on the bed nearest the window this time.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer followed you as you made your way to the elevator, “I like sleeping near the window.”

“No. Not happening. You slept near the window last time.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the elevator shot up to your designated floor. Your eyes wandered around the small space, and you found yourself looking anywhere other than at Spencer. You weren’t an anxious person, and it wasn’t as if being alone with Spencer was a new thing to you, but your mind was racing. All because of that one small gesture. His hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and you wished you could because it was making your cheeks burn.

“Even the elevators are fancy,” you muttered, casting a quick glance around the elevator’s plush and yet miniscule interior, “For a small town, they sure do have nice hotels.”

Things really were dire when you started making small talk. You were the type of person who could make a mountain out of a molehill with how much you talked. You almost rivaled Spencer with how much you could babble on. Small talk wasn’t your thing at all.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Hm?”

“You hate small talk,” Spencer said, and you bit back a laugh at that. It was as if you and Spencer were on the same wavelength sometimes, “And you’re picking at the hole in your sweater. You only ever do that when you’ve got something on your mind.”

You immediately glanced down at your hands, dropping them from your sweater as if it burned. You hadn’t even realized you’d been picking at the hole until Spencer mentioned it. You hadn’t even realized that there was a hole at all. Your bottom lip jutted out in a quick pout, “I love this sweater.”

Spencer chuckled at that, “So,” he continued, “You’re clearly nervous about something. And it’s not the case, because cases never make you nervous.”

“Really?” you said, a hint of laughter creeping into your tone, “You’re analyzing me?”

The elevator reached your floor, and the doors opened with a loud ding, “I’m not analyzing,” Spencer stepped out, “I’m simply making an astute observation.”

“Okay, well stop astutely observing me,” you followed after him, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. You know I’d tell you, “ it wasn’t necessarily a lie. Maybe you’d tell him. Eventually.

Spencer glanced back at you briefly as if he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, but he never said anything. Instead, he took the keycard from you and held it against the lock, waiting for the light to turn green before pushing open the door, “Oh.”

“What?” you sidestepped around him, “Oh.”

There was only one bed. Sure, it was a double, but it was still tiny. It was in that moment that you decided perhaps becoming an unsub wouldn’t be a lost cause.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I can sleep on the couch.”

You and Spencer finished your sentences at the same time, and you turned to look at each other. As soon as you locked eyes, you both started to laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch either,” you argued, “It’ll kill your back, Spence. You’re way too tall.”

“It’s not fair on you, though. You’ll…” Spencer was about to argue some more, but he stopped when he saw the look on your face. Spencer couldn’t argue his way out of a wet paper bag - when it came to you, at least.

“Look, Spence. It’s fine,” you dropped your bag onto the couch before he could protest, “There. Easy. No harm done.”

Spencer frowned, but he reluctantly put his own bag on the bed, “Fine. We’re swapping tomorrow night, though,” he told you, almost ordering you, “You’re not sleeping on the couch the entire time we’re here.”

“Deal,” your lips curled up into a smile, and you sat down on the couch, “See. I told you I’d be sleeping near the window.”

Spencer laughed at that.

ꨄ︎

From your space on the couch, you could faintly see the glowing green alarm clock that sat on the bedside table. A strange commodity for a hotel room. It almost looked alien.

2:32 a.m.

You couldn’t sleep. You had a bad enough sleep schedule at the best of times, but the injury on your side was making things worse. It still burned, and if you gently put pressure on the area, you could still feel the deep wound through the layers of bandages.

You were almost three days into the case, and you’d finally had a solid lead. It had taken a lot of digging, but Penelope had discovered the unsub’s hunting ground; an old speakeasy hidden so deep in the town that nobody had been able to trace it. Since you were the closest in victimology, you’d agreed to go undercover to catch the unsub once and for all. All you’d ended up with was a knife embedded deep into your side as the unsub escaped once again.

You’d been in the hospital for hours after that. The knife had gone in so deep that it was close to catching something vital, and the doctors had told you that you were lucky to be alive. You’d spent most of that afternoon in a hospital bed, listening to the monotonous sound of beeping machines. After a concerned lecture from Aaron - he’d told you not to follow the unsub but you hadn’t exactly listened - you were bandaged up and sent on your way.

Spencer had told you to take the bed. He’d almost forced you into it at one point. But you’d seen the way he’d tried to discreetly stretch out his cramp throughout the day, and you were far too stubborn, so you refused his offer and tried to sleep on the couch for the night. It wasn’t working, though.

You huffed in pain, shifting uncomfortably in the hopes of finding a better position to sleep in. Every movement made your bandages rub against the wounded area. You finally thought you found a comfortable enough position and you tried to settle down, but then you felt a dampness seeping through your bandages, and you cursed under your breath.

“No, no, no,” you muttered, pulling your shirt up and surveying your body. Even in the darkness, you could see the dark spot where the blood had begun to soak through, “Goddamnit.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and tip-toed across the room. You didn’t want to wake Spencer, especially not in your current state. You kept a hand tightly pressed against your side as you slowly moved. You didn’t want to get blood on the carpet. The staff seemed lovely, and you didn’t want to ruin their day with your mess. Every single step made you wince as a sharp pain shot straight through your body, and your breaths came out as sharp little puffs of air.

A muffled noise from the bed caught your attention, and you saw Spencer begin to stir. He gently mumbled your name as he sat up and stared at you with bleary eyes, “What are you doing?” he looked you up and down, and then his eyes settled on the blood, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you told him, though you clearly weren’t, “I think the stitches came undone or something. It’s fine,” you tried to wave his worries off, “Go back to sleep.”

Spencer did the opposite. He clambered out of bed and turned on the light, lighting up the room so that you could both see each other clearly. Your heart started to thud a little faster when you saw that the shirt he was wearing to sleep in was a little undone towards the top. You’d never noticed that before.

“You’re not fine,” his eyes were laser focused on the blood as he took a step closer to you, “You’re bleeding.”

“Good observation skills, Spencer,” you laughed a little, though you grunted in pain as it aggravated the injury, “I told you, it’s fine. I’ll redress it, and…” you paused when you saw the look in his eyes. It was a look he’d never given you before, and it stole your breath for a moment.

“Let me see.”

“Spencer...”

“It’s obviously hurting you,” his sentence was almost demanding, and yet there was a soft and concerning tone to his voice, too, “Let me see it.”

You sighed. There was no way you could refuse when he spoke to you with that tone of voice. You gingerly lifted your shirt high enough for him to see it, “It looks worse than it is.”

Spencer gently pulled away the loose bandages and inspected the open wound, his eyes never leaving your body, “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “You’re not redressing it yourself, and you’re certainly not stitching yourself back up.”

You barely had a chance to respond before Spencer had darted into the bathroom, and he came out moments later with a roll of bandages the hospital had given you.

“Here. Sit,” he sat back down on the bed, and he patted the space beside him, “You’ll have to go back to hospital tomorrow. I’ll help you rebandage it for tonight,” his eyes darted between your own eyes and the blood that seemed to be pooling on your side, “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, “Spencer…” there was no point in arguing with him, you knew that, and your wound hurt the longer it was left open, “Fine.”

You sat down beside Spencer, curling your legs up under you as you turned your back to him. Your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, holding it up high enough so that it wasn’t dangling in the way. This wasn’t the first time that Spencer had patched you up after an injury in the field, but this was the first time where you were definitely feeling a little light-headed.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Spencer’s voice was a gentle whisper against your ear. You hadn’t even realized that he was practically leaning his head on your shoulder, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands were so gentle on your skin that it was almost as if he wasn’t even touching you at all. The only indication that he was even helping you was the bandages around your torso since he wrapped them so tightly that they felt like a strangely comforting hug.

“There,” Spencer said, almost proudly, and he gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Done.”

You glanced down at your body before dropping your shirt. The wound didn’t even seem to hurt any more. You became very aware very quickly that Spencer’s hands hadn’t left your hips, “Thank you.”

You shuffled around until you were facing him, and when your eyes locked, it suddenly felt as if time had come to a standstill. That look was back in his eyes; the one that you’d never seen before that made you feel as though you were melting on the inside. You weren’t entirely sure what was racing faster; your heart or your mind.

And suddenly, before you could really comprehend your actions, your lips were on his. Your body acted before your brain could catch up. Your hands tugged slightly on the collar of his shirt as if you were trying to pull him closer to you. The kiss was tender, and yet it was so full of obvious desire. Warmth flooded your entire body as your stomach seemed to explode with swarms of butterflies. This was a moment you’d thought about for a long time, and once your brain caught up, you couldn’t quite comprehend that it was happening.

It may have only been a few seconds, but it felt like hours. You pulled away, and it was only after you saw the startled expression on Spencer’s face and the faint blush that crept up his neck that you realized what you’d done, “Spence…” your mouth opened and closed, but now words came out for a good few seconds, “Spencer. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Your panicked babbling was cut off as Spencer pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Shut up,” he smiled, and he pressed his index fingers where his lips had been moments ago, “Just shut up for a minute.”

If this were any other time, you’d be rather offended that he told you to shut up, and you’d keep talking. In this situation, however, you were happy to keep your mouth shut.

“You didn’t mean to, what? You didn’t mean to kiss me?”

“No. I mean… Yes, but also no, but…”

Spencer raised an eyebrow with a faint smirk, “I thought I told you to shut up.”

You pressed your lips together in a fine line, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, and he took your hands in his own. He squeezed them gently, and his thumbs began tracing soft little circles onto your palms, “You kissed me.”

You were more than ready for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Spencer seemed to notice because his grip on your hands got a little tighter as if he knew you’d go run, “I’m glad you kissed me.”

There was no stopping the surprised squeak that escaped your lips, “What?!”

Spencer chuckled at that, and the pink blush had spread up to his cheeks, “I’m glad you kissed me,” he repeated, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“You… You…” your mouth was hanging open, and your eyes were wide. You must’ve looked like an absolute idiot, “You have…?”

“Of course, I did.”

This conversation was going in an entirely different direction to how you’d assumed it was. You’d never seen Spencer look or talk with so much affection before. Spencer said your name with so much love in his tone that it snapped you out of your shocked state, “I like you.”

For a single moment in time, it felt as if the world had stopped spinning. You simply stared, unable to do much of anything else except feel a sharp tug at your heart, “You… You do…?”

“Are you capable of putting a sentence together, or not?” Spencer laughed, and he interlaced his fingers with yours, “Yes, I do. A lot, actually,” he smiled at you, and there was a hint of teasing, “I might be a genius, but even the dumbest person in the room could figure you out right now.”

You cracked a smile, and your shocked expression gave way to a relieved and delighted one, “I really like you, too.”

“Do you? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Shut up,” you giggled, and you never giggled. You knew this crush was childish, but this was on another level entirely.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you giggle.”

“I’m not giggling.”

“Oh, you absolutely are. You’ve always been a terrible liar,” Spencer grinned at you, and then his lips connected with yours.

The kiss seemed more affectionate than earlier, and a lot more passionate. Your hands wound around his neck, and his hands found a comfortable resting place on your waist. Your lips seemed to perfectly fit together like two puzzle pieces. It could’ve been seconds, or it could’ve been minutes. You weren’t entirely sure how long it had been, but you eventually pulled away from each other, and you were both a little breathless from the intensity. Intense was something you never expected from Spencer. You liked it, though.

You let your forehead rest against Spencer’s, “I hate to ruin the mood and everything, but…” your eyes flitted back and forth to the couch, “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore?”

“Absolutely not,” Spencer pulled you a little closer, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. Especially not now.”

“Good,” you curled into him as he pulled you closer to his side, letting your head rest against his chest with a gentle sigh, “The bed has better company.”

Spencer maneuvered the two of you until you were lying on the bed, and he tucked you that tiny bit closer into him. You’d imagined him hugging you plenty of times, but this felt better than any imagination could. He kissed the top of your head, and he ran a gentle hand up and down your back, “Sure does.”

ꨄ︎

“Penelope Garcia! I’m going to kill you!”

You stormed through the BAU and entered Penelope’s office, slamming the door open with such a bang that it made the walls shudder.

Penelope grinned as she spun around in her chair to face you, “Ah, my sweet angel,” she spoke with a beaming grin on her face, “Do you require my assistance?”

“You little…” you stepped a little closer, but it was hard to look even slightly threatening with a goofy grin on your face that you were trying to hide, “You gave me and Spencer the only room with a single bed?”

“I did no such thing.”

“I spoke to everyone else, Pen. Everyone else had a bed of their own.”

Penelope continued to smirk at you, not even trying to hide her laughter, “It worked, didn’t it? I haven’t seen you as happy as this in weeks.”

You faltered at that. She wasn’t wrong. Ever since you’d gotten back from Wyoming, you’d been happier than anyone had ever seen you. Of course, everyone knew about you and Spencer, and it didn’t take long for the good-natured teasing to pick straight back up, “Yeah. Okay. It worked, but…”

Penelope held up a manicured finger to cut you off, “Besides, my sweet,” she continued, leaning forward in her chair as if she had a secret to tell you, “I was the one who booked the rooms, yes, but I wasn’t the one who handed out the keys, was I?”

Another pause. The words slowly sunk in, and then your mouth dropped open in a mix of shock, humiliation, and a little bit of gratitude, “You… You don’t mean…”

Penelope grinned. She could practically see the gears turning in your head, and it made her laugh, “Oh, I mean exactly what you think I mean, my love.”

“Hotch set us up?!” you didn’t even wait for Penelope’s response. You turned on your heel and marched out of her office, leaving Penelope laughing to herself behind you, “Aaron Hotchner! I’m going to kill you.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader

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hookingminor · 1 year ago

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4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe.

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing.

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other.

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta.

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious.

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you.

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete.

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over.

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

Nico was getting a little desperate.

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects.

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook.

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door.

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room.

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity.

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking.

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid.

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air.

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue.

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted.

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door.

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

+ 1

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you.

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember.

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door.

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him.

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees.

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling.

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life.

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed.

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car.

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

#nhl imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #hockey imagine #fics #my writing #nhl fic #nhl x reader

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ffiahh · 7 months ago

Text

PROJECT PLUTO

Protect and Serve.

Sevika did her duty as knight, a bit too well, perhaps.

Pairings: Knight!Top!Dom!Sevika x Lady!Bottom!Feminine!Fem! Reader

Content Warning: Swearing, unwanted/forced marriage, mention of kidnapping, mention of death, slight description of food, jealously, slight description of blood, attempted assassination. SMUT WARNING: Degradation, dirty talk, size kink (kind of), cocks were mentioned (not real), jealously, scratching/marking, spanking, choking, mentions of overstimulation, biting.

Word Count: 5.7K

☾*:･ﾟ✧. Finally, a full Sevika fic!! Only took nearly a year, pft. As of writing this, I don't really know how to feel about it; I like some bits, but other sections I keep rewriting and it doesn't seem to get better; it feels very rushed. I was going to add hatred toward men in the content warnings, but, you know. This is a chance for me to introduce Angie, if she's popular enough I may write a piece of just her only. (She ATE). If you squint real hard, there's suggestive implications between Reader and Angie. Angie is queen, because I say so. Reader is also a whore, and not shy about it.

SEVIKA only knew two things. To protect and serve. So, when she saw you; in all your gracefulness and powerful elegancy; she did what she knew; protect and serve. Sevika took her job as royal knight seriously, so it was no surprise when the Queen gave her an even better task. She took an oath to protect you; and she did so diligently. Sevika was always there; a stealthy frame lurking around your sweet figure, towering over you as a means to make your presence a little more intimidating. She’d be there when you spend your time in the gardens; she would take stance outside your bedchambers; she would be there for any gown fitting you would attend; and she most certainly didn’t miss any meetings with your potential suitors. Sevika was there when the Council and your parents forced you to marry a man for the ruse of political power. Sevika was everywhere, and you couldn’t complain.

Sevika was standing dutifully by the Queen when she first caught sight of you at a ball. And so, her dark, broody presence simmered down just slightly once she caught sight of your glittering form through the crowd. Her eyes never left you; the way your body danced across the floor, you looked like a ghost with the brightness of your dress and the sparkles in your hair. She admired the way your hair danced alongside you, the way your dress waved and billowed after you. She admired you the way she admired the art of skilful fighting. Sevika stared at you so much; her eyes almost teared up with her subtle wide-eyed stare, so much so she could only hope that the Queen didn’t catch on.

It was no shock for Sevika to see the Queen choosing you as her favourite; you were soft and short, with a bright face and mellow features. The Queen, however was a force to be reckoned with, sharp, angular; standing with an impassive face and an impressive build that even shocked Sevika at first. There are many rumours about the Queen; rumours that paint her as the Devil straight from the Bible; cruel, vicious. Yet, you seemed to hold a certain grace, a softness. It seemed rather odd for you to mingle so closely with the likes of the Queen. You were a pleasant surprise for Sevika and getting a glimpse of you for the first time; was getting the wonderful news of protecting you.

“I request you to protect Lady Estelle’s heiress.” Sevika turned to see Angeliki looking over the ballroom with her steely blue eyes, she looked calm; her breathing was steady, her body looked lax. Sevika knew her boss well enough to understand that moments like these kept Angeliki on edge; her eyes would never stay at one place, she bristled just the smallest amount when a Lady or Duke approached her but most of all; her stature bristled when she saw you interact with another. Angeliki hated it here, yet she stayed for you. Angeliki swallowed thickly. “She is fragile, and I am worried I am not doing enough to protect her.”

Sevika just tipped her head in response, choosing not to say anything. Angeliki knew Sevika wasn’t one for reassuring words, and Angeliki understood that. In the short few years Sevika worked for the Queen; they both found a sense of respect for each other. They both had an unattainable strength and power, and maybe the ability of attracting sweet, pretty things.

You weren’t very shy when your mother introduced you to Sevika, you still felt the thrill of dancing, your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. You were out of breath, but Sevika’s presence tore it out of you; like inhaling hot steam. Sevika was every bit of tall, dark and handsome. She had a presence that made your knees knock, and your eyes flutter. It felt like déjà vu, because you remembered the way you nearly tripped on the steps when you were first introduced to the Queen. It seemed as though you were naturally drawn to women that enjoyed exuding their power.

You weren’t ashamed to seduce Sevika, that same night in fact. Your heart and your core stuttered at the realisation that Sevika was to be your personal knight. You were ecstatic. Just like you were ecstatic to found out the Queen took a liking to you.

You just battered your eyes at her, as you gracefully leaned against the doorframe of your bedchambers. “Could you perhaps… help me with my corset? It’s terribly tight, and we-” You just let out a small, quiet laugh. You stared at Sevika from the corner of your eye, your gaze turning to one of doe-eyed innocence when Sevika caught your subtle stare. “It’s quite embarrassing, really. I told my dresser to not tighten it too much, but-”

Sevika just stared at you, her eyes boring into you soft figure, the way your back arched softly, just pushing the soft mountains of your breasts against the doorframe; she knew not to let her face contort to compliment her feelings, so she stared at you blankly as you rambled. She was admiring you, enjoying the way the corset hugged your curves beautifully, the small intricate beads that fell around the curve of your shoulders. Sevika liked looking at you, she realised. She just merely let the corner of her mouth curl, before she gestures dismissively for you to turn. Sevika caught wind of what you were doing, seeing as your corset strings were already halfway done.

Sevika let out a low chuckle, shaking her head before her fingers took a strong hold of your laces, not wasting another moment to push you into your bedchambers. If it weren’t for the strong hold Sevika had on your laces; you would have stumbled and fell but you could feel your stomach and chest pressing inwards as the corset tightened slightly from Sevika’s heavy tug on your strings. You could feel the cold touch of her metal fingers dragging along your thigh, the soft material of your skirt curling around her metal wrist, while her other hand – which oddly enough – was cold as well; shamelessly tucked themselves away into your undergarments, smirking when there already seemed to a puddle on her fingertips.

“Didn’t take a Lady to be such a whore.”

Your mother was adamant that you marry; you tried to protest but that seemed to speed up the process and before you could even catch your breath; you were already taken to a first meeting with your would-be husband. By the end of the week, Lady Estelle announced the news of your marriage to Angeliki. Nobody knew what the Queen wore on her face, she merely sat on her throne; barely sparing a glance at Lady Estelle before you felt your body straighten when Angeliki turned to you.

“This was your choice?” Angeliki spoke; her voice was steady and calm, but it echoed throughout the throne room. Sevika could see the guards straighten in alarm at the sound of her voice, fumbling to tighten their hold on their weapons or subtly straighten their uniform.

No, not really. You nodded, dipping your head in a slight tilt. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

You were meant to marry your husband; but your eyes kept drifting to the dark figure looming in the corner of the church. Sevika was meant to be working, making sure to keep you safe on such an important day; but her dark eyes always found you; the tightly bound, pink flowers in your hand; the delicate veil as it fell around your face. You were sparkling, you would have been beaming; if not for the hideous truth that you never wanted this marriage. How could Sevika protect you from any danger when it was standing right next to you?

The church held the same air well; thick and potent, maybe it was the eerie silence that followed the end of the organ playing when you stepped on the altar, or it might have been the way Angeliki wouldn’t keep her steely glare off of Lady Estelle. Sevika could feel it from her post, the way her broad shoulders were drawn back, the muscles in her back tightening the more and more officiant rambled on. Sevika felt sorry for the Queen’s advisor; who in her small stature; did everything she could to avoid Angeliki and her cold gaze.

You felt it as well, the officiator may have been the one talking, but you could feel and hear the steady, eery breathing of the Queen behind you; for you it felt as though her body expanded and hunched, almost creating a looming shadow and presence over your smaller stature. Oh, what eery eyes you have.

Sevika was also there at the night of your wedding, standing outside your bedchambers due diligently before any and all sense flew from her head, and not long after; it wasn’t your husband who consummated your marriage; it was her. You had quietly requested that you keep your husband out of your room, and Sevika obliged. She was admiring the way you gracefully undressed to your bridal negligee. It looked stunning on you; the soft fabric settled wonderfully on your curves. Sevika couldn’t keep her hands off you.

“You taste wonderful, My Lady.” You could hardly get a word out when Sevika shamelessly dove back in between your thighs; the tip of her large nose nudging against your swollen clit. You let out a quiet whimper; your thighs trembling in her large hands, when Sevika hummed; the sound so low; it heard and felt like a growl. “And you look absolutely stunning. Like a fairy.”

You tipped your head back, a low breathy moan slipping from your mouth; you squirmed when Sevika pressed herself further into you; the ravenous, needy shake of her head causing her hair to tickle your glittering thighs as another low grunt fell past her mouth. You didn’t hear it, you felt it; the sound vibrating through your core.

Sevika’s eyes ran over your trembling form; soft and delicate. She could see the way your nipples perked through the thin material of your negligee; she loved watching the way the nightgown tightened and hugged your curves. You were sparkling; a soft sheen of sweat along your skin; the glitter of your makeup; dotted across your face. It certainly didn’t help that your nightgown was adorned with sequins and beads, it looked like a shining puddle around your body. You looked every bit of the beautiful bride you were, soft, angelic, twinkling. You were all hers. All of you. Sevika felt a rush of pride at that thought; you married a man, yet you were here; your body open for her.

“Your lousy fucking husband couldn’t do this, could he?” Sevika asks, her dark lips curled in a vicious smirk. Sevika rose up to her full height, the creases of her large palm running over the expanse of your thighs, her thick fingers tightening around the delicate curve of your ankle; her thumb absentmindedly caressing the divot on the heel of your foot. You were too much in a drunken, pleasured haze, you didn’t realise Sevika’s fingers sneaking toward your entrance. “Fuck you like this?”

“I hope you don’t keep using crude language during our most intimate moments,” you scolded, a gasped moan escaping your mouth when Sevika’s thick finger pushed past your ring of muscle, jolting at the delicious burn.

A shiver ran through your body when Sevika chuckled, the dark sound rumbling from her chest and vibrating through her powerful body. “Apologies, my Lady.” Sevika rumbles, sliding the length of her fingers along your inner walls, marvelling at the sight of your entrance greedily taking her thick, calloused digits. Sevika leaned forward to taste the soft skin of your nape, sucking gently; it was almost as if she could taste the sweetness from your perfume, settling on her tongue like a thin mist; you tasted like vanilla and raspberry.

You muffled in a moan, sucking in your bottom lip when Sevika’s mouth wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking harshly until spit ran down the crevice of your breasts and down Sevika’s chin. You cried out when her teeth pulled and nicked your nipple, letting it stretch before letting go with an audible pop. You couldn’t help but flush when you felt the dark, heavy gaze from Sevika’s piercing eyes trace over the curves of your writhing body, a moan catching in your throat when her fingers picked up speed.

“Do you know how pretty you look? Laying like that? With you being so greedy, so greedy. You want more of my fingers, needy girl?” Sevika ground out, the dresser creaking dangerously under her thrusts. “My cock?” Sevika offered, her dark eyebrow arched before she smirked with a light scoff, seeing the way you slightly lifted your hips, a strangled sigh falling past your mouth. “Such a slut. Is that what you want? My cock filling your pussy and stretching you out?”

You cried out, your head falling backwards onto the mirror behind you. You could feel your nails almost break and peel as you clawed at the wood under you, the same way Sevika’s nails dug into your soft skin, keeping you to stay splayed out for her leisure. It was a delicious pain, it made your skin chill with pleasure, goosebumps trailing your skin. Your heart stuttered in your chest when you felt the familiar hold around your throat; Sevika easily guiding you to stand in front of her.

You felt and looked small against Sevika, you realised. You saw the way the rolls on your body almost wilted under Sevika’s wandering hands, your skin was tugged and pulled, the enticing curves of your breasts almost melting into Sevika’s metal palm, the thin barely-there negligee melted against your skin, before Sevika pulled off your body with a disgruntled mumble. Sevika seemed to enjoy it; the way your belly seemed to lift from the strength of her hand and fall with an inviting jiggle. For Sevika, it felt as though she was moulding putty in her hands, soft and inviting and so, so irresistible.

You gasped, your back arching as Sevika dove down; sucking your nipple into her hungry mouth, before trailing her mouth down the underside of your breast. Sevika was aching for a part of you, any part of you, grunting and groaning as she opened her mouth further around your breast. Sevika didn’t let go of your breast for a while, the large curve of her nose resting flush against the underside of your breast. Sevika’s skin was warm, and the tip of her nose was hard; digging into the doughy flesh and skimming across the soft skin.

Sevika’s hand was large as well, the palm heavy as it struck your core; her thick fingers eagerly and quickly finding its way through your folds and in your squelching cunt. It covered your cunt entirely; you could barely see the way your puffy lips wrapped around her fingers, and the way they rolled. Her prosthetic arm was much larger, the metal claws creeping around the curve of your belly before snatching up your disregarded breast, squeezing the tissue.

Sevika urgently ran her mouth up your arm, along the curve of your shoulder, over the pulse points on your neck, delivering half sent kisses on your skin as if she only had a few moments with you. “You are like ice cream. I’ve never fucked someone so soft,” Sevika whispered under your jaw, breathing your scent in deeply before wrapping her lips around your chin. “Look at the way you’re melting in my hands.”

It was embarrassing that Sevika was right; you couldn’t help but buck your hips into Sevika’s hands, letting out a breathy huff when her fingers– for whatever reason – wouldn’t reach the fleshy sponge nestled deep below your belly button. Yes, your skin may as well be considered a sort of dough, or ice cream; the fat in your breasts pooled and sunk through the spaces of Sevika’s metal fingers and over the bones and structure of her cool forearm. Yes, Sevika was right. And, yes, you enjoyed the way Sevika took your body and mind, and completely fucked out any thought from you.

“Bend over,” Sevika’s voice was gruff, desperate, and your gasp that followed was pathetic and rushed, because in a quick moment you found yourself arched over your makeup vanity. The soft globes of your breasts were moulded and shifted to press against the hardwood, and you could feel the way your belly stretched to rest on the surface without pulling your skin too much.

You squirmed, the rough curves and joints of Sevika’s metal fingers scarping across the slopes of your ass, before you let out a hushed gasp when Sevika’s claws dug into your skin, enough to cause a shiver to run through you. “I saw the way you looked at the Queen today. Did you want her cock as well?”

You couldn’t answer, because Sevika’s pointed claws were trailing across your slit. Sevika laughed, her brows drawing in at the amount of slick that painted her bronze fingers, she had half the mind to fuck you with your mechanical hand, but that meant the chance of internal injuries. You felt the vanity creak a little under your weight when Sevika grabbed a fistful of your ass, the metal of her fingers just barely piercing the skin; she didn’t give you a chance to react before you felt the familiar round tip of Sevika’s cock pushing past the ring of muscle.

You tried to squirm, but jumped and gasped when Sevika’s fleshed palm struck your ass, the sound thundering through the otherwise quiet room. You felt the vanity creak again when Sevika pulled your ass apart, revealing your puffy, wet lips. Sevika hummed, low and throaty when she moved her hips slowly, ogling as your lips dragged across the silicone shaft. She could almost feel it, the way your pussy sucked her in, the way it pulsed and quivered as though you were going to cum.

You had nothing to hold onto, your nails scratched against the grooves of the wood, moaning against the dark, red surface and before you could comprehend; your hands flew out to catch the mirror. Sevika’s was always rough, but today – you gasped again, a strangled moan lodged deep within your throat; the silicone cock nestled so snugly, you had no way of escaping. Every roll of your hip, an arch of your back or the way you tried to squeeze your thighs; urged Sevika on more.

You squirmed again and Sevika cupped your waist tightly, using your writhing, pathetic body as leverage to slide into you deeper. The second time you squirmed, and you felt the beautiful, suffocating weight of Sevika’s hand on your back; though it did little to keep you still. The third time and her patience was waning; the wooden surface shook and almost splintered when Sevika smacked her palms against the vanity; from the corner of your tearful, hazy eyes, Sevika’s claws were cutting through the paint, soon enough the wood would start to chip away.

You cried out, biting your lip in effort to keep your sounds muffled. Sevika didn’t bother to; huffs and grunts falling past her mouth over you. At this point the mirror was hitting the wall, and the legs were creaking, the drawers were threatening to open as they clanked and rattled. Were you about to fall? Maybe. Did you care? No. Definitely not. Your vision blurred and your thighs trembled from the onslaught of Sevika’s angry thrusts, and the pleasure that sizzled through you. “Vika-”

“Stop talking. Going to fuck you until your legs give out.” Sevika rasped out, her hips slapping against your reddening ass. You were too far in your daze to realise that Sevika shifted, the vanity creaking with her change in position. You breathed out a low, pleasured laugh, blinking your eyes; feeling the familiar tightness around your throat. Sevika’s metal hand had warmed up at this point, so it didn’t startle you when she held you firmly under your jaw; somehow keeping your body arched and poised.

Plap. Plap. Plap. Plap.

Breathing was difficult now, your heart raced, and your pulse along your neck followed, thumping wildly. You groaned; the sound garbled, whiny and Sevika would have felt it vibrate through her hand, but her metal fingers were incapable of feeling anything. Sevika could hear it though, and see it; the way your eyes fluttered shut and the way your arousal seemed to drip down your thighs. Sevika seemed to go faster once she held you by your throat, the sound of squelching between your legs so loud.

It was humiliating that your orgasm came quickly; you hadn’t realised it until you felt some sort of dam breaking inside of you, causing you to writhe and pant, before you lifted yourself off the vanity, clawing blindly at Sevika’s thigh, feeling the muscles roll and tense as Sevika continued her thrusts. “Keep cumming on my cock. Fuck, you’re such a slut.” Sevika gritted out in your ear, her voice low and throaty, her hands were persistent, her fingers finding their way back to your hips, squeezing the skin, pulling and tugging almost off your bones. You cried out, your fingers clenching the edge of the vanity, your legs – which now were resting on the warm wooden surface – shuddered; goosebumps dusting your skin, and weirdly enough, the pleasure simmering slightly, creeping back up the more Sevika pummelled into you. “We’re going to do this again and you’re going to lay there and take it, you hear me?”

“I do not like your husband.” Angeliki states; her broad arm resting against the back of her chair. She was almost slouching; her legs spread out; the button of her shirt nearly popping and giving you an enticing view of the curves of her breasts. Table etiquette for her was long forgotten; as the Queen she had other pressing matters to stress over. You told her it was because people were far too intimidated to tell her off, but Angeliki believed it was because people were too tired to.

You just smiled sadly at her, buttering a small piece of bread. You delicately take a bite out of it; chewing slowly and swallowing it before you replied. “I don’t want you to feel bad, Your Grace. It’s the Council’s-”

“Yes. Who are they to tell me what I can and cannot do? They have no right.” Angeliki replies. “I will your end marriage. Believe me.” Angeliki’s nose twitches, as though she wanted to curl it in disgust, before her eyes drop to her small cup.

“And how are you going to do that, Your Grace?” You tried to keep your movements minimal, your back still ached, your throat burned slightly, your muscles felt tense and – to put it crudely – your pussy was still sore. You take another bite of your bread, swallowing and lightly grazing your neck, sending a quick glance to Sevika. You squirmed in your seat, wiping the corner of your mouth with your napkin. Angeliki’s stare had always been cold, calculating; it seemed as though she was analysing every bit of your soul and body, but today felt more meticulous. Maybe it was because you wore the guilt of warming the bed of your personal guard, or the fact that you didn’t warm hers last night.

“I suppose a shovel. People have told me I have a very heavy hand; one hit may be enough.”

You wait for her to monotonously tell you it was a joke, but the Queen seems too preoccupied with trying to use a dainty, demitasse spoon in her large fingers. “Your Grace. This may seem out of hand for what I am about to say, but you can’t kill my husband!” You exclaim in a hushed manner, sending a nervous smile to a castle worker who started to clear the table.

“Why not? He is a man.” Angeliki gives the spoon a look of contempt, before she reaches for a larger soup spoon. “All men are good for is to beat and fuck. You cannot do or will do neither to him. So, naturally he must go. Sevika agrees with me, no?”

You sneak a glance at Sevika; who is standing quietly by the wall; you wondered how she kept a straight face in this argument. Sevika merely tips her head; the corners of her mouth curled. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“See?” You don’t argue, knowing the Queen; it was like talking to a wall sometimes, tall, and stubborn. Angeliki carries on, taking a large gulp of her coffee, humming once. “Men are useless. They have horrid temperament, a fragile ego. They are pathetic, ingrates. Why do you think whoever works closely to me are women?”

You let a sigh, folding your hands in your lap. You can feel Sevika’s presence behind you; it was heavy and dark. It almost feels as though she’s closing in on your back. Like last night; when she fucked you in front of the mirror. “Surely, there must be another way.”

“Kidnapping? Your husband is small and dainty, so I can easily drag him or carry him over my shoulder.” Angeliki suggests, she turns to Sevika. “Kidnapping, no?”

Sevika tips her head again, this time her mouth curled further in amusement. “I suppose that is a better idea.”

Angeliki nods approvingly, a low grunt escaping her throat as she reaches up to flick back her short hair, only to find it in the same place by her ears; she didn’t try to fix it again. “I knew I did right by hiring you. A fine choice.”

You shake your head, leaning back on your chair. “You both are impossible. My husband is a Duke, he is in politics-”

“That is why he married into your family?” Angeliki asks, her confused gaze on the small crumpets, turning it over and over in her hands as if to make sure the crumpets were actually that small. Shaking her head as she reaches over to pile more on her plate. “He is not important enough, if he married you for a better title.”

You stay quiet, focusing on finishing the piece of bread that suddenly felt too thick and dry to travel down your throat, you held it between your fingers, squeezing the bread until it melded back into a dough. “I suppose…”

Angeliki hummed, nodding once at your agreement, she swallowed the last of her food, washing it down with a glass of water. “Stay close to me or Sevika for the ball tonight. Your husband has been skittish lately, I do not want you to get hurt.”

You didn’t normally listen when either the Queen or Sevika told you to do something, you liked to see the way their muscles would hunch at the realisation, or the way their eyebrows would draw in slightly. It was fun, and it always ended up with you satisfied one way or the other by the end of the night.

Yet, you were glad you listened today, the tension between your small circle was palpable. You felt it, it made your muscles tense, and your teeth grind. You didn’t give yourself the luxury at ogling at either women’s outfits. You only caught a glimpse of Angeliki’s golden and black suit and the intricate flower patterns on the bronze metal of Sevika’s uniform.

Angeliki drew her shoulders in when your husband approached your table, bowing deeply and dutifully to Angeliki; at that sight: Sevika straightened up, her hand tight around the hilt of her sword. You smiled lightly at him, forcing away the habit of squirming away from him when he leaned in for a performative, polite kiss on the cheek. He wouldn’t dare do anything more in Angeliki’s presence, or Sevika’s for that matter.

Your husband didn’t take a seat until Angeliki gestured toward the chair with a simple gaze toward it. Though the music was playing softly from the corner of the ballroom, it was quiet, you could hear the lazy, calm breathing of the Queen, and the pitiable, panicking breathing of your husband. Sevika shuffled behind you, a slight clearing of her throat as the bronze metal of her uniform clinked against each other. Quiet. Dead silence.

Your husband laughed, the sound rushed and garbled as he swallowed thickly, he waved down a waiter, his smile widening as the waiter closed in on their table, dutifully placing glasses of chilled water in front of each of them. You flickered your eyes to it, it was lemon water, judging by some curled rind sunk at the bottom and a lemon wedge hugging the lip of the glass. “U- ch-chilled lemon water, Your Majesty.”

You were right, but you raised a subtle eyebrow at your husband. He was acting skittish, his eyes kept darting to the glass and back up at Angeliki, he was barely sitting in his seat, his chest pressed so close to the table, you could see the tablecloth sag under his weight.

Angeliki’s gaze was as piercing as ever; the icy circles of her eyes trailing lazily across your husband’s form. She reaches for the glass, her fingers wrapping around it and lifting it slowly to her mouth. Angeliki hums, her stony orbs rising to meet the man across her, blinking once, twice before placing the glass back on the table.

Angeliki arose from her seat, her suit crinkling before she uses her large hands to smooth down the silk velvet fabric. “Follow me.” Angeliki didn’t wait for an answer, or a refusal as she steps down from the table, her large form stalking to the exit of the ballroom. Your husband’s eyes widened slightly, but he scrambled to his full height, smoothing down his own suit before rushing down the steps to follow Angeliki. Sevika followed closely behind, her bulky form closing in on your husband from behind. You stood up as well, your glossed lips slightly apart as you rushed after them. What was going on?

You caught up to them after a few moments, it would have been quicker if not for the sheer weight of your dress. You stood by the doorframe, feeling your body jolt at the chilly night air. You saw Angeliki shrug off her suit jacket; your breath hitching at the way her muscles rolled as she handed the jacket to Sevika. Sevika wasted no moment to douse you in it, ensuring it covered your cold chest and arms, before standing stoically by your side. It was quiet here as well, the only rustle of Angeliki’s sleeves rolling up her forearms and the nervous splutter from your husband.

“Men are always stupid,” Angeliki states simply, her large forearms tensing as she sought herself comfortable, her steps were quiet, heavy as they trailed to your husband. “Poison? In my drink? It seems as though you were arrogant as well, considering you thought I would accept a drink from you.” You tensed, a soft gasp falling from your mouth, when Angeliki snapped her hand forward; her thick, burly fingers seizing around the man’s jaw, squeezing tightly until his lips puckered and his cheeks filled out.

Your husband clawed at Angeliki’s hand, trying his hardest to pull her fingers away, but it only made her hold on, shaking his head as if to scold him. You jumped when he cried out, his eyes almost bulging out of his head as he shook and writhed in Angeliki’s grip, before your eyes snapped to Angeliki when a sickening crack echoed through, and a shrill, panicked cry from your husband.

Angeliki merely blinked, her eyes averting to each of his eyes before they fell to his throat, it was starting to get pink, veins protruding from his skin as he struggled. Your husband managed to carve a few scratches into Angeliki’s skin, and soon enough had grasped enough of her forearm to pull her away. You heart thundered and sunk in your chest when your husband lurched his head forward with a determined cry, suddenly finding courage and smiling lopsidedly in triumphant when Angeliki’s head snapped back, a trickle of blood running from her nose and down her lip.

Angeliki sniffed, her lips curling in a snarl before her head knocked forward in retaliation, once, twice; before spitting the red, almost gelatinous blood onto his face, sending a swift, heavy punch to his throat. Your husband cried out, falling back against the grass as he choked on his blood. Angeliki loomed over him, the muscles under her shirt tensing, letting the weight of her shoe and body press into his groin, pressing harder when your husband flinched. “Do not come near me again, lest I pull the skin from your pathetic body and force you to feed on it. Sevika.” Angeliki commanded, standing to her full height and walking toward you.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide as they zeroed in on Angeliki, her height allowing her to tower over you. You let your eyes run over Angeliki, over her chest that rose and fell, over the way fabric squeezed along her broad shoulders, the deep, angry scratches on her rough forearm and hand, before your eyes snapped to Sevika. “She will not kill him. Merely warn him. He will do well to leave you alone as well.”

You wished you could see Sevika’s body under her uniform, you wanted to see the way her back rippled as she delivered punches toward your husband, the way her abs would tense. You felt foolish, gaping at the two women; you shouldn’t but you did. There was a tight coil in your lower belly, one that threatened to snap once Sevika rose to her full height, her armour clinking as she panted, before your eyes travelled back to Angeliki; who was already staring at you, before she nodded toward the ballroom, urging you forward.

Of course, you obeyed, especially if you were going to feel the prepotent presence of the women behind you.

#fiah: project pluto #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #sevika x reader fluff #sevika headcanon #sevika imagine #sevika x you #sevika smut #angeliki lasko #oc character #oc #my ocs #original character

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cookierunoutofideas · 18 days ago

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Day 2 of "Writing SMC angst until he stops breaking my heart and comes home" (welp)

*voz da Patrícia Lélis expondo Estilista Juliana* Ô, gente, voltei.

Another day, another failure. Lady Luck hates me, as suspected. Anyway, this fic is inspired by this post by @allimili , whose art I love so much QwQ No Beta and I also don't have my glasses so pardon any errors

One-Sided! Shadow Milk Cookie x ex!fem!Reader; Truthless Recluse (Pure Vanilla Cookie?) x fem!Reader

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Love is a very odd thing, Shadow Milk Cookie muses to himself. Despite being the holder of Knowledge itself, not even he can truly explain love and its intricacies. Even after feeling it himself, he still doesn't truly understand it.

Befero he abandoned the duty forced on him by the Witches, he had loved with abandon. He didn't know any better-and yes, he can notice the irnoy. But it hadn't mattered back then because he was in love and he was loved and, despite the growing pit of despair and stress in his heart due to his duties, he had been happy.

Happy to see her smile and to hear her voice. Happy to hold her hand and hug her close. Happy to kiss her lips and breath in her scent. He had been happy by her side, through thick and thin and rain and sun and sickness and health and joy and sadness. They had even dreamed of the future together, promises sealed in between bedsheets and sleepless nights.

But then he finally woke up and saw the Witches for what they were: terrible demons of cruelty, gleefully controlling cookies to their whims, a little pet project to pass the time. Right after, he understood what the other cookies truly are: useless batches of greedy ungrateful dolls, baked with every single one of the Witches' sins just to torment those who dream of a better world.

And so his rebellion started, joined by his four friends.

But she... she simply couldn't see. Or, rather, she didn't want to see. Not that he truly blames her, of course, after all, the Witches made sure no cookie would ever learn of their perversion. All his darling beloved knew was the silly cookies and their insignificant little lives.

She had rejected his changes. Gone were the smile and loving words and warm hugs and longing kisses.

The last glare she gave him when he was sealed in that damned tree was of pure hurt and anger. He swore to himself he'd get out and find her again, bring back her pretty smile and shower her in the love she deserved as he once did. He'd make sure of it, make sure she'd finally understand him and his goals. Everything would go back to happiness.

The next time he saw her, (Y/N) was smiling at Pure Vanilla Cookie the exact same smile she'd once give Shadow Milk Cookie.

For a brief moment, he believed the lie that she somehow knew that he was there, watching over her through the blonde cookie. Only for a brief moment, though, enough time for said blonde cookie to confess his feelings to her.

That was not in te script.

(Y/N) Cookie did have a knack for rewriting stories, though, so he should've expected something someone to be beyond his control. It was one of the reasons he had been so enamored with her in the past.

Still he screamed and cried when she returned Pure Vanilla's confession with one of her own.

His rage was so great even Burning Spice Cookie shut up from the root of the silver tree he was confined. Not that Shadow Milk cared, he didn't care for anything but his plans to destroy that weak little thief who stole not only hsi power but his beloved! And his plans to punish said beloved for her infidelity. Ultimately, he'd forgive her, of course, but she needed to pay before it could happen.

And what better way to do it than to corrupt her precious Pure Vanilla Cookie? Make him become just like Shadow Milk Cookie? Show her that in the end, she is meant to be his.

Except.

Except that when the time comes and he finally has Pure Vanilla Cookie Truthless Recluse drowning in the pit of deceit, (Y/N) Cookie doesn't leave him.

She is saddened, yes, and she frequently pleads that he "fights it" and "remember who he is" and "stop hurting other cookies, Milk, there must be another way", but she does. Not. Leave. She stays with him, takes care of him, gives him kisses and hugs.

And Truthless Recluse is so annoying about it too. Kissing her and hugging her and holding her hands and carrying her and smiling at her in a way he should've forgotten because he is not Pure Vanilla Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie never never n ever ever existed ever! Ever! everevereverever it has always been Shadow Milk Cookie ALWAYS ALWAYS SO WHY?!

WHY?

Why is that copy the one allowed to love her? How can he even love her? How can he love her when he is not Shadow Milk Cookie? How can he still keep enough of his pitiful sense of self to keep on loving (Y/N) Cookie?! IT'S ALL WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG

Shadow Milk Cookie truly doesn't understand love.

Not that he needs to to hate it.

#cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla cookie x reader #truthless recluse #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk x reader #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #pure vanilla cookie #truthless recluse x reader

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sarahsangelicdoll · 2 months ago

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"cindy lou who" - R.C

. . . ⭑.ᐟ Currently playing; cindy lou who by Sabrina Carpenter . . . ↺▐▐ ↻

ᥫ᭡ Summary: You and Rafe broke up about a year ago. You thought you were over it until Rafe got over you and got a new girlfriend.

an: had this idea for awhile and i'm happy i finally wrote it but also not at all proud !, a part of this is unintentionally inspired by @bloodibambiidoll’s ‘buy me presents’ fic, may have a been a bit rushed.. may rewrite for next year.

ᥫ᭡ Content warning: Angsty, jealousy, unnecessary Sofia hate, not too deep, just sad romantic feels, from a jealousy-ridden perspective so cringey, Reader is a bit toxic idk, cringe warning in itself

Merry christmas !!

“I saw you laughing in of his pictures”

You sat on your bed, legs freshly shaven and moisturized. Hair done up in a messy bun and body bundled up in your blankets. The combination of your thick, blue blanket and sweat set you were wearing did a little too much to warm you from the cold. But the warmth was the least of your worries right now. Instead of sleeping like you rightfully should be at two in the morning, you were stalking your ex’s instagram.

His photos were mostly of himself or things he was doing around the island, for example a picture of him and Toppers martini’s that he posted exactly a week ago.

You thought, you were over Rafe, having not thought much of you twos break up almost a year ago, continuously rejecting Rafe when he tried to get back with you. “It would be too awkward now.” “We’re just not good for each other.” “Some people just aren’t meant to be for their own good.” “We’re better off as friends.”, all of these just a portion of the things you would say.

But then, you saw Sofia and Rafe at one of his parties at tannyhill, and ever since the two have always been together. It made your stomach do flips. You were used to Rafe’s world revolving around you, but now it didn’t. Now it revolved around Sofia.

You let out a huff that abruptly stopped when you scrolled down to the next photo. A photo of Sofia, wet, along the property of tannyhill. Laughing. Flash of the camera illuminating her features. Your stomach did jealous flips as you bit your lip, eyebrows instinctively furrowing as you took in the image.

The photo was oddly familiar to one of you, an almost exact replica of a polaroid Rafe took of you and kept in his wallet while you two were together and for a while after you two broke up. You swallowed and sucked in a shaky breath as you took in the photo. She looked utterly ridiculous. Why would she wear a white shirt to the beach? is she stupid? this is the girl Rafe gave you up for?

“Bet you’ll be the one with his ring on your finger”

Your eyes darted down to read the caption. ‘Prettier than a sunset.’ you read. You sucked in another, bitter and jealous breath. Sofia was a pogue, and so were you. It took Rafe four months to post you on his socials and even admit he thought you were pretty. And here he’s been with Sarah for two months and is already posting shit like this on his instagram?

You went to the comments, and to your delight, Topper and the other kooks didn’t like the post nor comment, but they did on yours. Heck you were even friends with them. Because you were welcomed by the kooks, Sofia’s just like a replacement for your absence… yeah, that’s most likely what it is. After all, Sofia is so… unusually similar to you in various different aspects, personality wise.

But your delight was quickly diminished as you saw Sofias comment, ‘where’s my ring if i’m so pretty? 💍’. You couldn’t help but audibly scoff as you read the comment, getting second hand embarrassment. Mouth clenching shut as you saw that Sofias comment was the only one Rafe liked.

“There’s red and green everywhere but i’m so blue”

You bit your cheek as you turned your phone off and looked up at the ceiling. Lit up with red, green and yellowish light reflections due to the mini christmas tree in the corner of your room and the christmas decorations outside.

You let out yet another shaky breath as you thought of the situation, entire gut knotting together and doing flips. You closed your eyes as you felt the tears prickling in your eyes. This shouldn’t be affecting you so bad, not after everything Rafe did and the fact you broke up with him.

You took a deep breath and opened them, a stray tear escaping your eye and following down the curves of your face. You sat up and stared at the tv in your room, playing whatever nonsense. You couldn’t help how you felt deflated and replaced, hell, even confused. You thought you were over Rafe, but you suppose the world had other plans than letting you peacefully move on.

You leaned over, arms reaching out towards your charger that was sat on your bedside table. You plugged your phone in and then rolled onto your side, facing the opposite direction. Snuggling into your blanket as you wiped the wetness of the stray tear away.

“Cindy lou who”

You stared off towards your wall. Your mind playing over all the stories you’ve heard of Sofia.

Hard working, kind, respectful, joyful, ‘loves’ Rafe, makes Rafe happy, caring, innocent, so on and so on. So much like how people describe you. You wondered if it was just hopeful thinking that maybe the only reason Rafe was with Sofia was her similarities to you.

You let out your tenth sigh of the night as you attempted to block out the thoughts and just close your eyes. thinking of anything but Rafe and Sofia. And eventually you fell asleep despite the war raging in your head.

“Maybe he met you somewhere in the desert”

You sat next to Kiara and Sarah in the back of the twinkie, which was driving down a bumpy road. Your hair done up in a messy ponytail and wearing an ugly blue christmas sweater and grey sweatpants. Biting the inside of your cheek as JJ, John B and Pope were debating on the directions of wherever the destination today was.

Sarah glanced down at you, noticing your distant expression, nudging you with her knee as she spoke, “What’s up with you?”

You just groaned, moving your knees up to your chest and placing your head back against the seat. “Nothin’” You murmured as you stared up at the ceiling, before a question crossed your mind.

“How did Rafe meet Sofia?” You asked, genuinely curious as to how they met. You and Rafe met after he got into a fight with his dad and got high as fuck off Cocaine, stumbling into the bar you work at, located just a couple minutes away from tannyhill

“While he was soul searching, he found someone better”

Sarah and Kiara both seemed caught off guard by your question but seemed like they both too got curious.

Sarah sighed and adjusted in her spot, speaking in a sarcastic tone as she threw in her idea. “I mean i’ve heard he’s trying to do some ‘soul searching’ so maybe that’s how they met.” She suggested.

“Maybe,” You said glancing at her before looking back up at the ceiling.

“I heard she’s a bartender,” Kiara responded, her words laced with slight amusement. “Maybe they met after Rafe got high as fuck again.” She chuckled at her own ‘joke’ as she attempted to lighten the mood.

Seriously? she was a bartender too? You didn’t know what to believe anymore. Was Rafe seriously over you or was he just trying to fill your absence?

“Isn’t that ironic,” You commented dryly, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Guess you make him happy like i couldn’t do, cindy lou who”

You were walking down towards ‘Heywards Seafood’, planning on seeing Pope around this time. Today was quite a warmer ‘winter’ day so you didn’t have to worry about dressing too warm. settling on a white tank and jeans.

You grabbed your wallet from your pocket and opened it up, looking to see how much money you have so you could perhaps buy something. Why not support your friend’s father’s business?

You pulled out a ten dollar pill. ‘That should get me a little snack’ you thought to yourself as you slowly made your way closer to the building, just to be stopped in your tracks.

“Seriously? ‘Heywards seafood’?” Rafes voice filled the air as you glanced up and looked around, seeing Rafe making his way over to the building along with Sofia. You sucked in a breath as you quickly moved to hide behind a wall, staying just close enough to hear what was being said.

“Yes,” Sofia started, anyone being able to hear the smile through her words. “They have good stuff. Swear i’ll be quick.” She said, her voice getting louder as she stopped just a couple feet from where you were. You peaked your head out just enough to get a quick peak of what the two were doing, and you immediately regretted it, Sofia leaning in and placing a kiss to Rafes cheek, eliciting a smile from the man. A wide one, one that used to be reserved for you. “Really?” Rafe said light-heartedly, doubting her words before chuckling, “Fine just be quick. I’ll wait out here.” He said, giving Sofia a smile as she giggled. A giggle that made her sound obnoxiously fake.

Sofia turned and entered the building of Heywards seafood, leaving Rafe alone. His smile staying as he watched Sofia disappear into the building, hand coming up to wipe his face as he turned, attempting to hide his smile as he walked a small distance away from the building.

You sucked in a deep breath. Turning to look straight ahead as your heart clenched in your chest. Did Rafe ever act like that when you’d giggle? When you’d leave him alone while you went in the store? Was Sofia really all that?

“With your hair so long, lips so red. Maybe we once met i forget”

You sat on the toilet. Procrastinating your shower as you stalked your ex’s new girlfriend, Sofias, tiktok. Scrolling way back to almost a year ago, around the time you and Rafe met. She didn’t post too much, so there was a sudden timeskip from March to January, and let’s just say it took you off guard.

Sofia had long hair framing her face and a deep red lip combo. You raised a brow ever so slightly in judgement. Long hair didn’t suit her and most definitely not with the red lip.

Despite your critiqued, you couldn’t help the lingering thought in the back of your mind. If Sofia looked like how she did now back then, then would Rafe really even struggle with the break up? Would he have just ran to Sofia? God, you sounded ridiculous and over paranoid, pulling at small flimsy straws, but you couldn’t help it.

But then realization dawned on you, a sense of… odd familiarity washing over you as you took in her appearance. You swore you saw her before, but you couldn’t seem to place the memory. Perhaps you two worked together? Either way, it didn’t matter. You turned your phone off and placed it onto the side of the sank. You desperately needed to get both Rafe and Sofia out of your mind. You were starting to scare yourself with how obsessed you were becoming.

“Scrolling five years back, i’m obsessed”

You sat at some retro fast food place, munching on french fries. Older music filling your ears as you were hunched over your phone, scrolling way, way back on Sofias instagram.

To say you were obsessed was an understatement. But you couldn’t help it, you were desperately searching for anything that’ll tell you why Rafe chose Sofia. Or any sense of closure to feel better about it.

Is this how Rafe felt when the two of you broke up? desperately searching for a reason? no… that wouldn’t make sense… his reasons were right in front of him; trying to kill his sister, killing Peterkin, shooting his sister, melting down the cross.

“Hey,” A voice interrupted your thoughts, looking up you saw Sarah. You quickly turned your phone off as you watched her move to sit in front of you, smile gracing her features. “Hey.” You said, giving her a small smile as you sat upright.

“Breaking my heart ‘tis the season i guess”

“What are you doing here all alone?” Sarah asked curiously as she grabbed the menu and looked over it.

“Nothing, just caught up in thoughts i suppose.” You replied, plopping another french fry in your mouth.

Your words and attitude caused Sarah to glance up from the menu, face tinged with concern before her attention quickly being diverted to outside. She sighed as she pretty much threw the book down and looked away from the mirror. “Oh my god my brother’s here.” She said, tone annoyed and frustrated as she glanced at you.

“Seriously?” You said, looking out the window. Rafes car parked just a couple feet away. You watched as he rounded the front of the car and opened the door, helping Sofia out.

Sofia looked joyful, it made your stomach coil. ‘God i’m petty’ You thought to yourself as you bit your cheek, knowing in the back of your mind that you were being utterly ridiculous. “Wanna leave?” You asked Sarah, turning back to face her. Ignoring how your heart ached in your chest. Sarah just nodded in response as she got up and made way for the back exit, you trailing behind with your french fries and jealousy in-hand.

“With your hair so long, lips so red. if you’re waking up now in his old bed, at his family’s house, just know that you’re just breaking my heart”

You stood outside in the cold, out near the water. Sofia and Rafe yet again stuck in your head.

You wondered what Rafe would think if he knew how much you were hurting. Surely if you went to him he would comfort you? Maybe you two could talk about it? Maybe get back together? Then Sofia can hurt like you are,

No, no, and no. God what’s going on with you? ‘You broke up with Rafe’ You tried to remind yourself. And not only that but all of your friends would absolutely hate you, hell that’s an understatement. And quite frankly, you didn’t want the reputation as a home wrecker. Lastly, as if you’re having a moment of clarity; You don’t want to hurt Sofia, god what did she do besides get with the guy you broke up with.

You groaned as you rubbed your temple, feeling conflicted. Did you love Rafe or did you love the attention? Are you the issue?

“Shit..” You mumbled out as you let out a deep breath and looked back up at the water. this entire situation was shitty and immature. Were you seriously just considering homewrecking?

“‘tis the season i guess”

You wiped down the countertop of the cocktail table. Your hair done up in a messy bun and bartender uniform hugging your figure. You were working tonight and then had the next four days off for Christmas, 23rd to 26th.

You turned your back to the table and threw the towel you used over the sink. Checking the time on your phone, seeing that there was two hours left of your shift. Behind you, two chairs got pulled out and you heard the sound of a woman speaking above the christmas music playing. You could tell just by the sound of the voice that it was some rich, kook snob. “I’ll be right back, just gotta use the washroom. Surprise me.” You heard the woman say. Rolling your eyes as you realized you’ll need to deal with some kook snobs, probably here for business, for the last bit of your shift.

You sighed, tensing slightly as you felt eyes bore into your back. You took a deep breath and then turned around to take the order, at first looking down at your cracked nail before looking up and seeing none other than the man who’s overtaken your mind for the past month, Rafe fucking Cameron.

You sucked in a breath as you saw him. Giving him an awkward smile as you stopped infront of him, space put between you two only by the bar counter. “Hey.” You said, words sounding more cold and bitter than intended, taking Rafe off guard a tad. “What’d you like?”

Rafe rubbed his chin awkwardly as he glanced up at the menu, “I’ll just take a beer and margarita.” He replied, eyes flickering down at you and then to the tv in the corner.

‘He can’t even look at me?’ You thought bitterly as you straightened your posture, “Coming right up.” You said, masking the hurt you were feeling with cold indifference.

You started making the margarita, ignoring Rafes occasional glances to you. God, this was deja vu. Your mind couldn’t help but go back to when you first met Rafe, though he was high and less calm, to put it nicely. You knew Rafe could sense it to.

You grabbed Rafes beer and turned back over to him, putting the two drinks in front of him. “Order up,” You said, tone still indifferent in your ears, bitter in his. Rafe sighed as he rubbed his face and turned his face to you.

“Look can we not do this? it’s almost Christmas, i won’t ‘bug’ you to get back with me anythin’, ok? i have a girlfriend now. Jus’ here for business.” Rafe said genuinely as he looked at you, gauging your reaction as he leaned back in his chair and plopped his hands in his lap.

You sighed as you looked at him, resting your bodyweight onto your right leg as you looked at him, deciding to let go of your bitterness, smiling softly. “Yeah sure,” You said tiredly, tilting your head towards your shoulder. “Just tired, been working all day.” You excused, yawning slightly.

Rafe smile slightly in relief, bringing his hands up to crack them slightly as he visibly relaxed more. “Yeah.. understand that.” He murmured, glancing around the bar. “You the only one working?”

“Yep, just me.” You said, tone fakely ‘amused’ at your situation. “Who’s your girlfriend?” You asked, cocking a brow slightly as you leaned back upright. Acting as though you haven’t been pretty much stalking both Rafe and his girlfriend for the last month.

Rafe seemed a bit shocked at your question though smiled at the chance to talk about his girlfriend some more, causing a whole ass wave, no, not wave, tsunami of jealousy to overcome you as you bit back an eye roll.

“Her names Sofia, she’s also from the cut, and she’s also a bartender, used to work here actually.” Rafe started as he got more comfortable in his chair. Resting his arms along his chest. “She’s super nice, been helping me a lot. I think you two would get along.” He continued, watching as you prepped yourself a drink.

You bit your lip as he spoke about Sofia. You and Sofia? get along? yeah no, never happening.

“Super caring too, kinda making me a tinge more sympathetic.” Rafe continued, chuckling slightly. On and on he went about Sofia, an obnoxious amount. You asked who she is, not for a biography.

You sighed as you finished making yourself a drink, taking a sip of it as you continued listening to Rafe, seemingly unaware of how much Sofia is alike to you. “I care about her a lot y’know?” Rafe said, scratching his cheek slightly.

That, now that, ‘i care about her a lot’, that caused your built-up jealousy to pour out. You smiled, well, a fake smile as you looked at Rafe. “She sure sounds like me, of course you’d ‘care’ for her.” You commented sarcastically and bitterly, a bit more harsh than intended, and out of character.

And as soon as the words left your mouth and Rafes smile fell you regretted it. You bit your lip as you turned away from Rafe, taking another sip of your drink you made specially for you. The woman Rafe was here to do business with coming out from the Washroom, ‘a complete life saver’ you thought to yourself.

Rafe watched your back as you clearly ended the conversation, taken aback by your sudden bluntness as he felt almost guilty and agitated even though he knew he shouldn’t be and that this wasn’t even his fault. He sighed as he sat upright in his seat, the air becoming tense again. “Merry Christmas Y/N.” Rafe said simply as the woman sat down next to him and he diverted his attention to her.

You bit your cheek as you didn’t reply, feeling your breathing quickly quicken in speed. You escaped off into the staff washroom, closing the door behind you and resting your hands onto the sink.

Sofia. God you hated her. You knew it was unfair to hate Sofia just because Rafe moved on, but you did. You also hated Rafe for moving on so easily. In a way he just gave up on you.

But no matter how much you tried to tell yourself you ‘hated’ Rafe, you couldn’t deny how badly your body yearned for his comfort again. His attention, you missed it. You missed when you were the only girl in his life that he cared about it, next to his sisters. You knew it was a toxic mindset, but that’s just what you were used to, and it just changed to suddenly that you didn’t know how to properly react.

“The snow’s gonna fall and the tree’s gonna glisten”

You let out a shaky breath as you wiped the tears that were slowly starting to fall down your cheek. Glancing back up and out the one-way window.

The trees, covered in snow, slowly moving side to side. Christmas lights decorating the white snow that was falling and gradually piling up. The day turning dark with the late hours.

“And i’m gonna puke at the thought of you kissin’ the boy who i love who’s now in love with you”

Just the thought of Rafe and Sofia together made you feel sick with jealousy. So much that you couldn’t help how it slowly bubbled up your throat and exited through your mouth, making it to the toilet just in time as you puked all the green jealousy out. Feeling your stomach physically empty out into the toilet. You gagged as you finally stopped.

You bit your lower lip as your knees went to the ground. Feeling just a tad bit weak, you rested your elbow on the toilet seat and head in your hand, not caring how unsanitary it may be right now.

You chin trembled as you tried hard not to cry, after all you still had a job to do. The taste of puke lingering in the back of your throat.

You sighed as you tried desperately to look for any good in this situation. Perhaps the fact you puked from jealousy and you’re so bothered by everything is a sign that you and Rafe will get a chance again? yeah. That’s a possibility.

“Cindy lou who. told all my friends, they said it can’t be true”

You walked down along the sidewalk with Sarah and Kiara, telling them about the event the previous night. Having finally come clean to them about how you’ve felt about Rafe recently.

“No way Rafe did that, does he ever think?” Kiara commented, disbelief gracing her features as she crossed her arms. “Honestly i don’t even know what you saw in Rafe in the first place.” Kiara added, tone taking on a lighter tone as she glanced towards you. Feeling sympathy for you at your solemn expression.

Sarah spoke next, tone taking on one more of a typical annoyed sibling tone. “I wouldn’t take it to heart Y/N.” Sarah said, enveloping your hand into hers in an attempt at comfort. “Rafe used to be obsessed with you, that wouldn’t just.. abruptly change.” Sarah continued on, face scrunching in confusion at her brother’s behaviour.

“Seriously Y/N, don’t let this affect your Christmas.” Kiara said gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If it means anything i doubt Sofia and Rafe will even stick, Sofia seems like a decent person so she wouldn’t stick with someone like Rafe.” Kiara comforted. ‘Yeah, ‘decent’ person’ you thought to yourself. Biting your lip in frustration. Upset that nobody else saw Sofia the way you did, and that Kiara was right.

“Cindy lou who”

Sarah and Kiara didn’t see the Rafe you did, didn’t see the Rafe who wants to change and has been changing. If Sofia was a decent person she’d also see this and support him, not break up with him. She would do what you should have done. But now it was too late to do that, Rafe found someone who does support him and see him for who he is going to be and working to be, not currently is and is working to not be.

You sighed as you started feeling perhaps the most at peace then you have in a while. Looking at it this way, you couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. You supposed you could say you were having a moment of clarity; If you cared about Rafe, you’ll let him be happy. You won’t be so upset over him moving on, you won’t hate Sofia. Ok what are you saying, liking Sofia will most likely never happen. She’s just too much like you. But, like Sarah said, Rafe can’t just suddenly get over you. If it’s really not meant to be between the two of you, then you wouldn’t feel so jealous. Yeah, you liked the sound of that better. Better than wasting your time being jealous.

You sighed in content, even if it’ll just last for the next couple hours. Deciding to just let the universe flow. And having on odd confidence that Rafe and Sofia will not last. It’s just a matter of time until Rafe comes back running to you. Ok, perhaps you’re the problem.

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aklaustaleteller · 10 months ago

Text

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really.

Word Count - 1.4k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour.

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solxamber · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! I saw your fic(?) On the reader being similar to the white rabbit!

So I had a similar idea but with absolem the caterpillar from Alice in wonderland. With heartslabyul, octavinelle and pomefiore (added on maybe chenya ?). Basically the reader is a 2nd year and is a very cocky person when it comes to things like subjects they get high scores in along with having bad anger issues? This is just an idea I have at the top of my head 😅 I also don't make requests often if that was clear lol.

Thank you if reading my request ! :)

It's been so long since I read Alice in Wonderland but I hope this is what you wanted <3

Absolem! Reader with Heartslabyul, Octavinelle and Pomefiore + Che'nya

Rest of the characters: here

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle Rosehearts had no idea how to handle you. On one hand, you were technically a model student—when you weren’t terrorizing everyone with your arrogance, that is. On the other hand, your cocky attitude made his eye twitch like he was seconds away from writing up a whole new rule just for your ego.

“You may have gotten the highest score in Alchemy,” Riddle said stiffly, his hands clenched behind his back like he was bracing himself for an incoming tidal wave of sass, “but that does not excuse you from following protocol during experiments!"

You leaned back in your chair, all smug grin and half-lidded eyes. “Oh, Riddle, Riddle, Riddle. If I followed your ‘protocol,’ we’d still be stuck trying to figure out how to transmute lead into potatoes.”

His face flushed as red as a rose. “That is not the point!”

“I’m just saying,” you replied with a shrug, “your rules are cute, but some of us prefer actual results.”

There was a long, tension-filled silence. Then, Riddle’s lips twitched, and you could almost hear his brain rewriting Rule 392: No Sassing The Dorm Leader.

Trey Clover

If Trey had a talent, it was the ability to defuse a situation with nothing more than a laid-back smile and a soft-spoken word or two. But when it came to your outbursts, even Trey occasionally had to roll up his sleeves.

“You’re getting pretty fired up over here, huh?” Trey said, folding his arms and giving you that calm, big-brother smile.

You narrowed your eyes. “They just don’t get it, Trey. If they’d actually listen to me, we’d be done with these stupid group projects in half the time.”

Trey hummed, still as placid as ever. “Maybe. Or maybe they just don’t appreciate being called ‘incompetent cabbage heads’ every time they mess up.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t call them that this time.”

“Oh, my mistake. That was last week.” Trey chuckled, grabbing a cupcake from a tray. “Anyway, maybe you should try a new approach. Like, I don’t know... baking?”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Is this another one of your ‘therapy via baked goods’ attempts? Because the last time I tried, Cater put the whole thing on Magicam, and I’m still seeing memes about ‘exploding tarts.’”

Trey just smiled knowingly. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

Cater Diamond

“#MoodSwings, am I right?”

Cater had this incredible (and incredibly annoying) ability to pop up just when you were about to lose it. Today was no different. You were fuming over some insignificant thing someone said in class, and right when you were about to explode, there he was, phone at the ready.

“I swear, if you tag me in another one of your posts—” you started, but he was already snapping pics, duck-lip selfie style.

“Whoa, chill, bestie! It’s not my fault you’ve got that ‘rage extrodinaire’ aesthetic. The followers eat it up. Seriously, you should start a channel. #CaterToYourAnger.”

You glared. “I’d start with a video called ‘How to Get Away with Smashing Cater’s Phone.’”

Cater grinned, absolutely unfazed. “Aww, love you too, cupcake. Just think of all the likes we’d get!”

Ace Trappola

Ace? Oh, Ace lived to rile you up. He thrived on it like a plant soaking in the sun.

“So,” he said, leaning back against the wall with a smug grin, “I heard you were bragging about your Potions grade again. Shocking.”

You glared daggers at him. “I don’t have to brag. The results speak for themselves. Unlike your grades, which are probably hiding in the shadow of your last failed test.”

“Oof, that’s cold. You sure you’re not secretly studying Ice Magic?” Ace shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, all that boasting is just you overcompensating for something. Like, maybe you’re secretly terrible at everything else?”

Your temper flared instantly, and you stepped closer, ready to unleash your wrath. “Say that again, and I’ll show you what happens when—”

“Oh, hold on—Deuce! Hey, Deuce!” Ace shouted, and before you could lay into him, Deuce was running over, looking confused and ready to brawl for no reason.

“Are we fighting? We’re fighting, right?” Deuce asked, fists already up.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Deuce, no one’s fighting.”

“Yet,” Ace muttered with a wink, and you had to resist the urge to scream.

Deuce Spade

Deuce tried. He really did. But no matter how hard he tried to match your fiery personality, he just couldn’t seem to get it quite right.

“You know, I’ve been practicing too,” Deuce said one day, puffing out his chest like he was about to impress you. “I’m getting better at Transfiguration!”

You blinked. “Really? Didn’t you turn someone’s textbook into a chicken by accident last week?”

Deuce’s face turned red. “I-It wasn’t a chicken! It was... okay, maybe it was a chicken, but I’m improving!”

“Sure you are,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I bet your next experiment will turn the whole dorm into a petting zoo.”

Deuce stared at you for a moment, clearly weighing his options. “...That would actually be kinda cool.”

You facepalmed. “Deuce, please.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul wasn’t intimidated by your cockiness. No, in fact, he saw it as something to be... monetized. Because why not take that overblown confidence of yours and turn it into something profitable for the Mostro Lounge?

“You could be quite the business partner,” Azul remarked, smiling slyly from across his desk. “With your top grades and undeniable talent, I’m sure students would pay handsomely for tutoring sessions.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

Azul feigned innocence. “Catch? Why, there’s no catch at all. Just a little... arrangement. I take a modest percentage of the profits, and in return, you gain access to the resources of the Mostro Lounge. Think of it as... a mutually beneficial partnership.”

You tilted your head. “So basically, I do all the work, and you skim off the top?”

Azul’s grin widened. “A shrewd observation, but I prefer the term strategic partnership.”

Jade Leech

Jade, on the other hand, was a master of subtlety. He didn’t confront you head-on like the others did. No, Jade had this unnerving way of quietly watching you, like a predator biding its time.

“Your temper is quite fascinating,” Jade remarked one day, his eerie smile never faltering.

You crossed your arms defensively. “Fascinating how?"

“Oh, just the way it flares up so quickly. It’s almost... predictable.” He tilted his head slightly. “I wonder, how well do you control it in dangerous situations?”

“Why, are you planning to test me or something?” you asked warily, already regretting the question.

Jade chuckled softly. “Oh no, nothing of the sort. I’m merely... observing. You’re quite the specimen, after all.”

You shuddered. “Please stop talking like I’m some kind of lab rat.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd, on the other hand, lived to push your buttons. He loved it when you lost your cool because it meant you were interesting. And Floyd? He thrived on interesting.

“Oi, Shrimpy!” Floyd’s voice echoed across the lounge as he slung an arm around your shoulders. “Heard you got top marks again. Big shot, huh?”

You side-eyed him. “Don’t call me Shrimpy.”

“Awww, but I like it!” he whined, pouting dramatically. “You get all mad when I do it. It’s fun! Do it again! Get mad!”

You groaned. “Why are you like this?”

Floyd grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Why not? It’s more fun to watch you blow a gasket. Maybe I’ll squeeze ya real good next time you freak out.”

You shook him off. “No thanks, I’d rather not have my ribs crushed.”

“Awww, but that’s the best part!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil couldn’t stand your cocky attitude. Mostly because he couldn’t stand anything that was less than perfection—and in his eyes, you were far from it.

“Such arrogance,” Vil remarked, inspecting his reflection in a compact mirror as you ranted about how no one appreciated your brilliance. “It’s one thing to be talented, but it’s another thing entirely to lack grace.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. Like you’ve never been confident in your own abilities.”

Vil snapped the compact shut, finally looking at you with a sharp, withering gaze. “Confidence is one thing. Vulgarity is is another.” He raised an eyebrow, his perfect lips curving in a condescending smile. “And darling, you’re teetering dangerously close to the latter.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’m just saying, if everyone else could keep up with me, maybe I wouldn’t have to be this way.”

Vil waved a hand dismissively. “Keep up with you? I highly doubt that. There’s a fine line between confidence and crudeness, and you’ve trampled right over it in those worn-out boots of yours.”

You glanced down at your boots, scowling. “Hey! My boots are perfectly fine!”

Vil gave you a once-over, a pitying sigh slipping from his lips. “I could recommend a stylist, but I doubt even the best could save you from that attitude of yours."

Rook Hunt

If there was anyone who found your fiery personality endlessly amusing, it was Rook. The man seemed to delight in your temper tantrums, treating them like some kind of grand performance.

“Oh, what a magnifique display of passion!” Rook exclaimed one afternoon, after you’d shouted at some poor first-year for knocking into you. “Your fire burns so brightly, it is a wonder you do not set the very air ablaze!”

You glared at him, still fuming. “I’m not trying to entertain you, Rook.”

“But you do! Oh, you do!” Rook clapped his hands together, his eyes shining with admiration. “To witness such raw emotion—it is truly a gift. You are like a tempest, sweeping all in your path.”

“Pretty sure that’s just a fancy way of saying I’m a walking disaster.”

“Non, non, non!” Rook laughed, shaking his head. “You are a force of nature, one that cannot be tamed! To tame such a spirit would be a crime against beauty itself!”

You blinked at him, unsure whether to be flattered or concerned. “Okay, sure. Whatever makes you happy, Rook.”

Epel Felmier

Epel had mixed feelings about you. On one hand, he admired your guts—your temper was something to be feared, and Epel respected that. On the other hand, you were annoying.

“You know, just ‘cause you’re good at Magic History doesn’t mean you gotta rub it in everyone’s face,” Epel grumbled one day after you’d corrected him in class. “Ain’t nobody here tryin’ to hear that.”

You leaned against the desk, a smug grin on your face. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep up. Maybe if you spent more time studying and less time trying to look tough, you’d have better grades.”

Epel’s face turned red. “I am tough! And if you say somethin’ like that again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

Epel gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. “I’ll... I’ll... kick your butt in PE next time!”

You snorted. “Sure, Epel. Let me know how that goes.”

He muttered something under his breath, probably swearing revenge in the form of some country-style wrestling move, but you were already too busy planning your next academic triumph to care.

Che'nya

Of course, Che’nya didn’t mind your attitude at all. In fact, he found it downright entertaining. He’d pop up at the most inconvenient moments, grinning that mischievous grin of his and waiting for you to lose your cool.

“Nyah~ Why so serious, Y/N?” Che’nya’s voice floated down from seemingly nowhere. “All that steam comin’ outta your ears can’t be good for your health.”

You looked up, scowling as you spotted him lounging in a tree, that trademark grin never leaving his face. “What do you want, Che’nya?”

He tilted his head, blinking innocently. “Just wonderin’ if you were plannin’ to blow a gasket today. I’ve got a front-row seat!"

“Get down here before I make you,” you snapped.

“Oooh, feisty! You know, it’s a good thing you’re not in Wonderland.” He chuckled, disappearing and reappearing right beside you. “You’d fit right in with all the wild tempers down there.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you’d fit right in with the pests.”

Che’nya laughed, not the least bit offended. “Nyah~ You say the sweetest things! See ya around, Hothead.”

And with that, he disappeared again, leaving you to stew in your own frustration. Typical Che’nya.

Masterlist

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nightsmarish · 9 months ago

Note

Hihi!! I saw requests are open and I wanted to send in a request if that’s fine haha. here I go

could I request wolfstar x masc! (or GN but I prefer masc) who goes to school at durmstrang AND hogwarts? like the reader is REALLY good at defense against the dark arts and the reader also has handsome looks as well and both sirius and lupin fall for them?…

sorry if it’s confusing 😭! you can decline this if you’d like but thank you so much !

A/n: I'm not even gonna lie, I am NOT a fan of how this came out amd might rewrite in the future. I just can't finish on another fic it this one wasn't done, I am so so so sorry if this sucks ass.

Poly!wolfstar x masc!reader (Remus lupin x masc!readee x Sirius black) | 800+ words

Tw: reader is hot, possible illusion to smut but not in a cool way

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ

Sirius comes running into the dorm, of which is mostly empty besides Remus.

"Moony-" He pauses, panting from running through the moving staircases, planting himself dramatically onto Remus' bed next to the lycan, "did you see the Durmstrang and Beauxbitons students?"

Remus infact did meet the exchange students. The headmaster of the three schools had come to decide that it would be beneficial to have an exchange program for a few months. Allowing students to learn magic under different teachers and styles, as well as continuing the bond between the schools.

"Yes, I did, why do you ask?" He raises an eyebrow, lowering his book to give his boyfriend his full attention.

"That bloody Durmstrang boy, he's fucking hot." Sirius moves over Remus, sitting on his abs while he lays back on his bed.

"Which one, love, there was 3 of them." Remus looks up at Sirius, who is fiddling with one of the gold studs Remus' in his ears.

"The hot one."

Remus smiles up at his boyfriend, hands moving up under the button up shirt Sirius is wearing for his uniform. "I think they all where rather hot. I think it may be a requirement for attending Durmstrang."

"Well I don't bloody know, he was just fucking hot, babe. Like, dear Merlin he was a looker." Sirius' smile matches Remus' hands moving from his earings to rake through his boyfriends hair. Remus draws little shapes onto Sirius' spine.

"Am I not enough for you anymore? Need another boyfriend already?" Remus leans up, kissing Sirius' neck.

"You are more than enough, I'm just saying he's hot." Sirius chuckles, ducking down to capture Remus' lips.

ᯓ★

Okay, Remus gets it. After Sirius pointed you out the next morning at breakfast, you are bloody hot. Both boys shared Defense Against the Dark Arts, the first class they share (other than breakfast) that they can properly gossip in.

"Okay, okay- yes, he's hot, I get what you mean." Remus puts down his book bag, leaning back in his chair as everyone filters into the room.

"Exactly! He's eye candy, right?" Sirius has one foot on the chair, knee bent, while the other leg is like a normal damn person in a chair.

Before he can respond, someone speaks up, "Hey, sorry, is this seat taken?"

Both boys look to their left. And dear Merlin they were not prepared for you to be there.

"Yeah- sure, of course." Sirius answers for them, Remus opting to stay quite.

You smile and take a seat, dropping your book bag on the floor as you scan the room.

None of you talk much during the lesson, at least not verbally. Remus and Sirius keep discreetly writing notes to one another.

Oh Merlin he's next to me

I see that, love

What am I supposed to do???? I look like a sodding idiot!

You look fine, I promise.

Only fine? Thanks, babe, great to know I only look fine when I am next to him!

You look fucking hot

I don't believe you anymore

Want me to prove it in a supply closet after lunch?

Class is dismissed, so everyone quickly gathers there things, excited to go to lunch and see their friends. The boys share a look, do they talk to you, or be a wimp?

"Hey," Sirius grabs your attention, of which you give him, undivided and it makes it slightly harder for him to breath, "I'm Sirius Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." He offers you his hand, which you shake and give him your name.

"And, I'm Remus Lupin." He adds, not entirely a fan of the first greeting people bit, very awkward about the whole thing.

You send Remus the same smile you sent Sirius and dear fuck they have gotten down bad way to quickly, "Great to meet you two."

"Would you like to sit with us? At lunch." The shorter of the two asks, "Obviously our friends will be there too, it would *just* be us."

"Oh, yeah, sure, that'd be nice, thank you." You follow both of them out the classroom and to the Greathall.

ᯓ★

Are they super sweet? Dear Vulpelara, they very much are. As is their friends. You got to meet Peter, Lily, and James so far.

Though, you've met who you are pretty sure is Sirius little brother a few times in passing but you are not completely sure.

Are you having a harder and harder time keeping up your chill persona? Holy fuck, yes.

They are flirty, smooth, and devastatingly hot.

While Sirius is quick to make a flirty remark, so quick you almost don't notice, or throw in a pet name (gods forbid he calls you "Pretty Boy"). Remus is smooth, subtle, and it's like you're his damn prey.

Like now, you're sitting with the group for dinner a few weeks later, James, Lily, and Peter sit across from you. You learned Lily doesn't always join the boys, but James seems to be very pathetic for her and begs her a lot. While next to you, on your left is Sirius, and on your right is Remus.

Your thighs are touching theirs, and at some point Sirius hooked his foot over yours and you think you lost the function to breath seven minutes ago and.... and this is going to be a long, and painful exchange program.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x male reader #sirius black oneshot #sirius black x remus lupin #sirius black x y/n #sirius black imagine #Sirius black x male reader

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mononijikayu · 5 months ago

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choice — erwin smith.

‘If I were on the verge of death this mission… Y/N, let me face it and rest.’ She could still feel the warmth of his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with a gentleness that belied the harsh reality of their world. She had taken his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly, holding onto him, holding onto the promise she had made. ‘Promise me.’

GENRE: alternate universe - canon divergence;

WARNING/S: manga spoilers chapter 84 (midnight sun), angst, romance, hurt/comfort, canon character death, crying, hurt, sadness, remembering memories, grief, fighting, canon related violence, depiction of implied romantic relationship, depictions of character death, depiction of grief, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of canon character death, depiction of hurt, depiction of blood and injuries mention of memories, mention of relationship, mention of blood and injuries, commander erwin!, scout! reader;

WORD COUNT: 4.6k words

NOTE: i found my erwin fics and decided to rewrite them for publication, so i hope you enjoy them. its a really good one, i think. and it's a rare call back to my time with aot!!! please look forward to me branching out to other stories again. i'll publish something jjk tomorrow too!!! thank you so much for reading, i love you <3

EVERYTHING WAS A BLUR. Levi's hand trembled slightly as he gripped the serum, his fingers curled tightly around the vial, knuckles white from the strain. The tension was palpable in the air, an invisible force pressing down on everyone in the room.

Hanji, their expression torn between determination and desperation, struggled to restrain Mikasa, whose eyes were blazing with fury and anguish. Mikasa strained against her hold, her voice a mix of pleading and anger, begging Levi to make a different choice. Her cries cut through the stillness like shards of glass.

Floch, across the room, had Eren pinned against the wall, his hands gripping Eren's shoulders tightly as if afraid he might bolt or collapse. Eren's gaze was distant, hollow, his body slack against Floch's grip, but his eyes bore the weight of countless decisions, each heavier than the last. His expression was unreadable, lost in a place between determination and resignation.

She stood there, apart from it all, her heart heavy as she watched the scene unfold before her like a cruel play, its lines and actions repeating over and over. The echoes of past decisions, of choices that had led them here, resounded in her mind. She had seen this before — not just once, but a thousand times, in a thousand different ways, and each time it felt like another piece of her soul was being chipped away.

A thousand times of sorrow, a thousand times of pain, of grief that seemed endless.

She wondered if perhaps that was all she

To her left, she saw Bertoldt, the traitor, sprawled on the ground, unconscious. His face was contorted in agony even in his unconscious state, his body broken and torn apart. The lower half of his legs were missing, replaced by grotesque, steaming stumps where flesh met air.

Steam hissed from the wounds, curling upward in thin, wavering wisps, dissipating into the cold air. His betrayal had come at a cost, and now his once formidable Titan form seemed pitiful, a broken shell of what it had been.

A few feet away lay Armin Arlert, the boy — no, the young cadet — who had been burnt alive by flames so fierce they seemed to have etched themselves onto his very bones. His skin was charred, blackened, and blistered, his small frame twisted and fragile, like a crumpled piece of paper.

His bright eyes were closed, his breathing so faint it was almost undetectable, and yet there was a strange calm about him, a finality in his stillness. She felt the echo of his screams in her ears, a phantom pain that gnawed at her insides. The fire had claimed him, scorching through his entire being, leaving behind only a husk of who he once was.

And then… there was him.

Erwin Smith stood beside her, tall and unwavering, his presence like an anchor amidst the chaos. His face was set in that familiar, resolute expression, eyes sharp and determined.

But beneath the surface, she saw the toll this day had taken on him — the weight of all the lives he had led, the burdens of countless decisions, each one chipping away at the man who had carried them all.

The dirt and blood on his skin were like war paint, symbols of a struggle that was not yet over. His breath was steady, but his gaze betrayed the weariness of a man who had pushed beyond his limits.

When it came to injury and blood, you were used to it. When you lay together, the smell too was heavy. And yet, it was all different now. Now that no breath echoed through him. No longer housing a soul, this husk of a shell.

His hand hovered near hers, so close that she could almost feel the tremor in his fingers, the slight hesitation that spoke volumes. He was right there, standing beside her, as he had so many times before. In his presence, she felt the push and pull of conflicting emotions — admiration and anger, faith and doubt.

He was a symbol of everything she had fought for and everything she had lost. She didn’t need to look up to know his expression; she knew it too well, had memorized every line of his face, every flicker in his eyes.

The scene before her was an unending cycle of torment and choice. Her eyes moved between the bodies, the broken figures of the living and the dying. Erwin, Bertoldt, Armin. Each name weighed heavy in her mind, each a testament to the violence and agony that had become their existence.

How many times had she witnessed this? How many times had she stood at this precipice, feeling as if the world was about to shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces?

Erwin’s presence beside her grounded her in that moment of harrowing clarity. For all the sorrow and pain she had known, he had been a constant — a reminder that even in the face of utter hopelessness, someone had to keep moving forward.

"We're giving the serum to Erwin, that is that!" Levi's voice rang out with a ferocity that left no room for argument, cutting through the chaos like a blade. The finality in his tone was unmistakable, a command that brooked no defiance.

Yet, even as he spoke, the young Jaeger cadet, Eren, continued to cry and scream, his voice raw and desperate, pleading with Levi to save his friend. His words were a frantic chorus, a manifestation of the anguish in his heart, but they fell on deaf ears. The redhead, Hange, quickly pulled Eren back, her face a mask of determination mingled with grief.

"Everyone away from here! In this place, we're going to revive Erwin," Levi barked again, trying to maintain his focus, trying to shield his resolve from the relentless tide of emotion that threatened to engulf him.

But then, there was Mikasa Ackerman. The girl with the dark eyes and the fierceness of a storm. She moved with a fluid grace, her muscles coiled like a spring ready to release. She lunged forward, her face contorted in a mixture of anger and heartbreak, her hands reaching out as if to claw back what was slipping away.

For a long time, she had seemed like a machine, all cold steel and sharp edges, but now… now she was anything but emotionless. There was something burning in her eyes — a ferocity that came from the depths of her soul, from a place of profound love and an equally profound loss. She felt as deeply as any of them. Perhaps even deeper. Deeper than Levi, deeper than Hange, perhaps deeper than anyone she had ever known.

And then, everyone left. One by one, the cries and shouts faded into the distance. The decision was made. The line was drawn. The living had been pulled away, leaving only the dying and the few who dared to remain.

But she stayed.

She could not move, could not bring herself to step back into the shadows and let it all fade away. She remained, rooted to the spot, as if by some unseen force, watching as Levi, with deliberate steps, approached Erwin. The tension in the air was thick, and Levi’s gaze was fixed on Erwin, his face a mask of conflicting emotions — determination, regret, sorrow.

Levi halted suddenly, his steps faltering as he noticed her there, kneeling beside Erwin. He hesitated, his brows furrowing. He couldn't read her expression; her face was an enigma, a puzzle that eluded him as much as Erwin's own had so often done. He studied her, but her eyes, her mouth, the set of her jaw — none of it gave him any clue. She seemed as much a mystery as the dying commander beside her, caught between life and death, between decision and indecision.

Without a word, she reached out, her hand brushing gently against Erwin's golden hair. She could feel the dirt and grime that had settled there, the earth that clung to him like a shroud, as if the ground itself sought to claim him before his time.

Her fingers trembled slightly as they moved through the strands, feeling the weight of the dirt, the roughness of the earth that seemed to signify all the burdens he had borne.

Her touch was tender, almost reverent, as if trying to convey a thousand unsaid things, a thousand unvoiced apologies and regrets, all in the delicate brush of her fingers through his hair. There was something sacred in this moment, something that felt like a goodbye that hadn't been spoken, a final connection to a man who had been so much to so many — a leader, a savior, a man with a dream that had carried them all forward. Your...your lover.

Erwin and you had never said anything about it. Labels weren't really what you both were able to say. Permanence was a rarity in your world, after all. A tie to humanity was a bane to the shoulders carrying the weight of the world. And yet....yet both of you know it. Felt it. Knew it.

Levi's gaze never left her, trying to decipher the meaning behind her touch, trying to understand what she was thinking, what she was feeling. But her face remained unreadable, a canvas of calm amidst the storm, as she continued to stroke Erwin's hair, her breath shallow, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat, matching the rhythm of a life that was slipping away.

In this moment, she felt the gravity of the choice they were about to make, the choice Levi was about to make, and she wondered if there was any right answer in a world so torn apart by suffering and sacrifice. The world seemed to narrow down to this single moment, this single touch, and she realized with a sinking feeling that whatever happened next, nothing would ever be the same.

"Y/N," Levi called out, his voice cutting through the stillness as he stopped a few feet away from her, urgency lacing his words. "Get away from him. We're running out of time."

Her eyes didn't leave Erwin's face, but her response was swift and firm, "Don't make the choice for him." She turned her gaze to meet Levi’s, and in her eyes, emotions swirled and collided — fear, sadness, resolve. Emotions that danced just beyond his understanding. "Not this time."

Levi's brows drew together, his frustration evident. "Huh? What do you mean, you brat?" He didn't have time for this, not now, not when every second mattered. He needed her to understand, to see reason.

"You chose for him before," she continued, her voice quieter now but no less forceful. "And he took it to heart. There will be no point in this." Her gaze fell back to Erwin, her hands brushing gently against his skin as if she could soothe him even in this state.

"There is," Levi shot back, his tone blunt and unwavering. "Erwin lives."

She shook her head, and for the first time, he saw the sheen of tears brimming in her eyes. "What for?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, yet it carried the weight of her breaking heart. "Levi, you'll be bringing him back to hell. There is no need for him to… to see it all over again."

"Y/N—" Levi began, his voice faltering slightly.

"I saw it today, Levi," she interrupted, her words almost a scream, yet they came out in a low, choked sob, thick with the grief clawing at her throat. "You freed him, and now you want to cage him again? That's enough, please…"

Levi’s eyes softened, if only for a moment, as he watched her turn back to Erwin, her movements tender and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might shatter what little was left holding her together. He saw the way her hands trembled, the way her lips quivered as if she were on the verge of breaking. “Oi…” he started, but the words died in his throat, replaced by a quiet bewilderment. "You want him to die?"

She closed her eyes, tears spilling over and tracing paths down her cheeks, and when she looked at him again, her expression was raw and open, the pain evident in every line of her face. "

I love him," she replied softly, her voice filled with a sorrow so deep it seemed to echo in the very air around them.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against Erwin's brow in a gentle, final kiss, her hands cradling his head tenderly as if trying to imprint this moment into her soul. If he was alive, he would have smiled at her. His own orbs looking at her face, as though memorizing each and every muscle, each and every expression, each and every moment. But he would never do so ever again.

"I prepared myself for this moment long ago, Levi. That’s why I'm letting him go to rest. As you should."

Levi felt something shift inside him, a familiar ache he had tried so hard to bury now resurfacing with a vengeance. He stared at her, her words sinking in, crashing against his resolve like waves against a crumbling shore. For a moment, he faltered. Her plea echoed in his mind, mingling with the memories of Erwin's countless sacrifices, his relentless drive, his dream that had become a curse. Levi knew that she wasn't asking for Erwin to die; she was begging for him to be free.

He felt his chest tighten, felt the weight of her grief pressing against his own. He had seen so much death, so much loss, but this — this was different. This was a plea from someone who had loved Erwin not just as a leader but as a man, who had seen him not as a symbol or a figurehead but as a human being with fears, dreams, and regrets.

“Y/N…” he whispered, almost helplessly, his hands tightening around the serum as if it could somehow solve everything, make everything right. But nothing was right. Nothing had been right for a long time.

She held Erwin close, her tears falling freely now, soaking into his dirt-streaked hair, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. "Let him rest, Levi," she whispered, a broken prayer against his skin. "Let him go where he doesn't have to fight anymore, where he doesn't have to be a soldier. Let him have peace."

Levi’s hand dropped a fraction, his gaze torn between Erwin’s still face and the woman kneeling beside him, her own spirit breaking right before his eyes. For once, in this world of endless battles, he felt the ground shift beneath him, felt the weight of what it meant to be a human in a world that seemed to forget what humanity meant.

In the silence that followed, he heard the quiet beat of his own heart, heard her quiet sobs, and he wondered if there was ever truly a choice in this place of unending suffering.

Levi looked down at the syringe in his hand, its weight seeming to grow heavier with every passing second. His gaze shifted to Erwin's still face, then to Y/N, her eyes pleading, full of pain and something deeper — something that touched a place in him he rarely let himself feel. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, feeling the full gravity of the decision pressing down on his shoulders, a burden he could scarcely bear.

He made the choice.

His hand moved, quick and certain, not allowing himself to second-guess, to hesitate any longer. He turned away from Erwin, his feet carrying him toward the burned and broken body of the young boy, Armin Arlert. Without a word, Levi injected the serum into Armin's arm, pushing the plunger down, watching the clear liquid disappear into the boy's veins.

There was no turning back now.

He stepped back, and it wasn't long before the transformation began. Armin's body twitched, convulsing violently, his eyes snapping open with a look of wild terror. He gasped, his mouth opening wide as an unearthly scream tore from his throat, a sound that echoed across the broken landscape, a sound that seemed to pierce the very heavens themselves.

His skin crackled and smoked, his limbs flailing as if possessed by some primal force. It was a cry of agony, of rebirth, a sound that spoke of pain and confusion and the violent struggle for life.

"(Y/N)…" The soft murmur caught her attention, pulling her gaze away from the horrific sight of Armin's resurrection. Her heart seized in her chest as she lowered her head, her eyes falling to the parted lips of her dying lover, Erwin Smith.

His voice was barely a whisper, so faint she almost missed it amidst the chaos around them. She was certain he didn't know she was there beside him, even after all these years together, all these battles fought side by side, all these nights spent dreaming of a future that seemed so close and yet so impossibly far away.

"Let's… listen… to my… father's stories again..." Erwin's voice was broken, fragmented, each word a struggle, a final breath barely escaping his lips. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, his body limp in her arms.

Those were his last words — a quiet request from a man who had lived his entire life in search of the truth, a man whose heart had been filled with endless questions and doubts. He wanted to go back, back to those days when things were simpler, back to when he had believed in the stories his father told him, back to when there was still a chance to believe in something more.

She listened, tears streaming down her face, each drop carrying a piece of her breaking heart. She felt his pulse slow beneath her fingertips, felt the warmth begin to fade from his skin. She felt his heartbeat — once strong and steady, the rhythm that had carried him through countless battles — slow to a stop. She could no longer feel it, the silence deafening in her ears.

"You died in my arms, my love." she whispered softly, her voice breaking, her body trembling with the weight of her sorrow. She held him close, cradling his head against her chest, her fingers running through his hair one last time. "Just like you wanted…"

Her words were a quiet lament, a final goodbye. She had known this moment would come, had prepared herself for it, or so she thought. But now, with his lifeless body in her arms, all her preparations felt like dust in the wind.

She had loved him with everything she had, had believed in him, had stood by him even when the world seemed to crumble around them. And now he was gone, leaving her with nothing but a shattered heart and a memory that would never fade.

She held him, her tears falling silently, mingling with the dirt and the blood and the sweat that covered them both. She held him as if by doing so, she could keep him a little longer, keep him from slipping away entirely. She held him because it was all she could do, because in the end, there was nothing left but this — this final act of love, this final goodbye.

Levi stood nearby, silent, watching as she wept, his own heart heavy with the weight of the choices he had made, with the price of their survival. He had chosen life for one, and in doing so, had condemned another to death. He knew there were no right answers, not in this world, not in this hell they lived in. There were only choices, and consequences, and the burden of living with them.

Levi and Hange stood side by side, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in the distance. The young cadet, Armin, devoured the traitor Bertolt with a savage ferocity that seemed almost inhuman. Steam rose from his new, massive form, swirling around him like a shroud. It was a sight both grotesque and tragic — a boy forced into monstrosity, into survival by any means, at the cost of his innocence.

Hange turned away from the chaos, her gaze softening as it fell upon Erwin’s lifeless body. Her fingers reached out, trembling slightly as they brushed over his eyelids, closing them gently, tenderly, as if she could somehow grant him the peace he had never found in life.

Levi turned his gaze to her, watching the grief that etched itself into her features, the quiet sorrow that hung in the air between them. He could see it in her eyes — the mourning for a comrade, for a friend, for a leader whose dream had been left unfulfilled.

"He's gone," Hange whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, each word heavy with emotion. She pursed her lips, struggling to maintain her composure, to keep herself from breaking. Erwin had been their anchor, their constant, and now he was gone.

"Perhaps it's better this way." Levi replied with a soft sigh, his own voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "He won't have to be in his hell anymore."

His eyes flicked back to Erwin's face, still and serene in death, free from the burdens that had weighed him down for so long. He couldn't help but think that maybe, in some small way, Erwin had found the peace he had never known in life.

Nearby, Floch’s brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief. He watched Y/N, still holding Erwin’s lifeless body, her hands running through his hair as if memorizing the feel of each strand.

“Why…” he began, his voice trailing off, unable to grasp why she seemed so calm, so accepting of what had happened.

Y/N's mind drifted back to a moment long ago, a memory that played like a silent film in her mind. Erwin’s voice came to her, clear and steady, even as his body had been failing.

‘If I were on the verge of death this mission… Y/N, let me face it and rest.’

She could still feel the warmth of his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with a gentleness that belied the harsh reality of their world.

She had taken his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly, holding onto him, holding onto the promise she had made. ‘Promise me.

"He wanted to rest." she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers continuing to dance through his hair as if in a trance. Each touch was a farewell, a quiet goodbye to the man she had loved, to the dreams they had once dared to share. "This was his final choice."

‘I promise.’ she had whispered back then, her voice trembling with the weight of what she knew would come. She had made that promise, not understanding then how much it would cost her, how deeply it would cut.

Now, as she held him in her arms, she understood. She had kept her word. She had let him go, had let him find the peace he had sought for so long. It didn’t matter what others thought, what they questioned or doubted.

She knew what he wanted. She had known him better than anyone, had seen him not just as the commander but as the man beneath — the man who had carried a burden too heavy for one person to bear.

Her voice trembled with love and pain as she whispered once more, "You’re free now, Erwin. You’re finally free."

Levi glanced at her, recognizing the truth in her words, the inevitability of what had happened. There was nothing left to say. They had lost so much, sacrificed so much, and yet somehow, they had to keep moving forward, keep fighting, even as their hearts bled for the ones they’d left behind.

The air hung thick with silence, broken only by the distant rumblings of the newly born Titan, a sound that seemed almost distant compared to the weight of their loss. Levi’s eyes lingered on Y/N, her face shadowed with grief but also with a strange sense of serenity, an acceptance of what had come to pass. He could see it in her expression, in the way she cradled Erwin's body with a gentleness that spoke of deep, unwavering love.

Hange's breath hitched as she moved closer to them, her eyes searching Levi’s face for some form of reassurance, for some hint of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. She had seen him make countless choices before, seen him bear the weight of the world on his shoulders, but this… this was different. This was a choice he had never wanted to make.

“Levi…” she began, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think he knew?”

Levi's gaze didn’t leave Y/N. He took a moment before answering, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. “I think he knew.” he said quietly. “I think he knew exactly what he wanted. And he made sure we understood it too, in his own way.”

Hange nodded slowly, understanding, though it didn’t make the pain any less sharp, any less real. She looked at Y/N, seeing how tightly she held onto Erwin, how she seemed to draw strength from his lifeless form, even now.

“He loved you,” Hange whispered, their voice filled with a quiet, knowing sadness. “He really did. You were his reason… for so much.”

Y/N nodded, the tears falling freely now, her heart breaking all over again at the words. “I know.” she replied, her voice catching in her throat. “And that’s why I had to let him go.”

Levi felt a pang in his chest, a rare, raw emotion that he rarely allowed himself to feel. He turned away slightly, trying to hide the tightness in his eyes, the moisture gathering there despite himself. “We should… we should get moving.” he said, his voice gruff, more of an order to himself than to anyone else. “There’s nothing left for us here.”

But Y/N didn’t move. She stayed where she was, holding Erwin close, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her eyes closed as if she were trying to memorize the moment, to imprint it into her soul forever.

“Just a little longer..” she murmured softly, more to herself than to anyone else. “Please… just a little longer.”

Levi hesitated, his heart aching as he watched her. He knew the pain of losing someone, knew it far too well. And yet, he also knew the strength it took to let go, to keep moving forward when everything inside you screamed to stay, to hold on, to never let go.

“We’ll give you that,” Hange said quietly, a soft, understanding smile on their lips despite the tears in their eyes. “Take your time, Y/N. As much as you need.”

Levi nodded, finally turning his back to them, his gaze shifting to the horizon, to the future that lay ahead of them, uncertain and filled with shadows. “We’ll wait.” he added, his voice softer, more human than it had been in a long time. “But not too long.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving Erwin’s face, her heart aching with the knowledge that this was the last time she would see him, the last time she would feel his presence, his warmth, the strength that had always been there, guiding them, leading them, even in their darkest moments.

She leaned down, pressing her lips to his forehead one last time, a final kiss, a final farewell. “I’ll always love you, my love.” she whispered, her voice breaking, her tears falling like rain. “Always… until my last breath.”

And with that, she let him go. She released him from her arms, from the pain of this world, from the burdens that had weighed so heavily on him. She stood slowly, feeling the weight of her grief settle into her bones, a heaviness that she knew would never truly leave her.

Levi and Hange watched, silent, as she rose, as she took a deep breath and turned to face them, her face streaked with tears, but her eyes filled with a quiet, resolute strength.

"Let’s go." she said softly, her voice steady, though her heart was shattered. "We have to regroup now."

Levi nodded, a rare, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. "Yeah."

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