K/DA: The Reluctant Writer (Male Reader x Akali)

Lights. Camera. Drama!

The world was nothing more than a red blur. Were you drunker than was responsible? Perhaps. All you knew was that the object of your anger was in front of you. You hit him again. He was a bit pudgy, he hadn't put up that much of a fight. He moved in slow motion while you decimated him with heavy blows. Again and again, you hammered his face. You were on the ground at this point. This was no gentleman's duel, it was a savage beating. Hit him. Hurt him. Make him pay. . . for. . . something? What was it?

The fight had only lasted for a minute or so but you were having trouble rationalizing what had offended you so much. You looked around the room. It was one of the small conference rooms in the hotel. A small white and beige room with a couple of light sources and a six-person foldout table. There was no one else in the room. . . wait. . . yes, there was. Sona. Sona was in the corner. Her eyes were that of sheer terror. She had a small trickle of blood coming from her nose. He did that. That was why you were beating him. Jefferson. You remembered now. He was her manager. He had grabbed her arm. You walked in right as he had slapped her. He called her a bitch.

Yeah. that was right. You had to make him pay. It was the right thing to do. It was the righteous thing to do. But to hell with all of that. It was personal. She was yours. No one was allowed to hurt her.

You pounded him again as he put his hands up to defend himself. He yelled in pain but you didn't hear it, all you heard was the ringing in your ears. It made sense, the blood had rushed from your head, that happened to people when they overexerted themselves when they weren't in good physical shape.

He screamed out as you hit his forehead. you raised your arm to strike again, but you were caught this time. A heavy force pushed against your back and forced you to the ground. The man was built and heavy with darker skin, he was bald with a crooked nose, at least that was what you saw out of the corner of your eye. Hotel security. Yeah, that made sense too. Someone had obviously heard the shouting.

Another man grabbed hold of Jefferson and a shorter woman was over with Sona, telling her it would be alright and attempting to comfort her. Sona couldn't speak. They wouldn't know what she was trying to tell them.

Y/N: She's mute. Can't speak. Get her a pen.

You calmed down and let yourself go limp as the security staff held you. It would be best to let them do their job, resisting would make you look bad. This was all his fault. They would make sure he paid.

After a few minutes, she was given a pen and paper. After a few more minutes, she wrote out what had happened. Twenty minutes later, you were being put into a police car while an officer was reading you your rights.

_______________________________________

Evelynn: Why are we here?

Akali walked past her, balancing on the rail as they made their way through the train yard. The sun had yet to rise and the younger girl had ripped Evelynn from the warm embrace of her sheets. She then had to endure an insufferably cold motorcycle ride that took almost an hour to get here. Evelynn was tired and hungry, and her ass hurt from the bumpy ride. Needless to say, she was less than happy with Akali at the moment.

Akali: Just wait. It's up ahead, I promise it'll be worth the wait.

The rapper did a, completely unnecessary, dramatic flip off of the rail and ran across the dirt and rocks to a decommissioned subway train with a crude blue paint job.  She gestured to it with both hands and her eyes screamed 'ta-da!' forcing Evelynn to quirk an eyebrow in mild irritation.

Evelynn: What is. . . this?

Akali: It's an old train car decommissioned after going off the rails last year. Took bout' a week to find one, they are good with their repairs over here.