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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

“All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

“Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

“Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

“Wow.”

Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

“They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

“Can I please explain?”

You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

“I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

“So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

“God no!”

You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

“You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

“You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

“Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

“That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

“There’s no need.”

“Why won’t you let me explain?”

You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

“Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.

“Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

“My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

“What was it about?”

You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

“Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

“I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

“We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

“Dolphins!”

Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

“It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

“They’re so friendly.”

Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

“Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

“You look like you’ve done it before.”

“Once or twice,” he replied.

You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

“So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

“Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

“We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.

You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

“Cut it out.”

“Did you say something?”

Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

“Nope, nothing.”

He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

“Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

“And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

“I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

“Never.”

“It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

“Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

“What kind of catch do you get out here?”

Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

“What do I do?”

“Reel it in,” Harper said.

The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

“This thing is strong.”

“You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

“Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

“I did it!”

“You did.”

“Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

“Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

“It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

“Yes!”

You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

“Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

“You mean touch it?”

Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

“It was just an adolescent.”

Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

“I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

“I take it fishing is a hobby?”

“When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

“What’s one of your hobbies?”

Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

“You’re artistic?”

“Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

“Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

Chris nodded. “Me too.”

Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

“And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

“What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

“I’ve had tons of practice.”

The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

“Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

“It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

“Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

“Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

“No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

“All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

“Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

“Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

“What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.

Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

“I got you.”

Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

“Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

“Aaah, fuck!”

A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

“Oh god.

Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

“I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

“I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

“Oh my god!”

Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

“He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

“Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

“No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

“If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

“I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

“Ajali!”

Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

“We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

“What does that mean?!”

“It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

“What!”

Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

“This is bad,” Harper added.

“What do we do?”

The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

“We’re gonna tip over!”

Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

“Hang on tight!”

Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

“I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

“What—what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

He spun around looking at Harper.

“I have to get below.”

Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

“I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

“I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

“You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

“Oh my god!”

“Ajali, can you hear me?”

You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

“Ajali. Can you hear me!”

On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

“Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

“Fuck!”

You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

“Ajali!?”

Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

“I’m here.”

You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

“I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

“Try to turn the engine on.”

You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

“This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

“Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

“Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

“Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

“What was that?”

The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

“He—hello?”

The only response you got was the walkie dying.

“Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back. Nothing helped though.

“Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

“I’m gonna die.”

You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

“Ajali!”

As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

“We have to get off this ship.”

“What!”

“The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

“He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s all right, I have you.”

He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

“You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

“What are we gonna do?”

Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

“Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

“I’m scared.”

“I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

“You smell like gas.”

Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

“What’re you doing? Come down!”

“No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

“That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

“I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

“Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

“Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

“I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

“I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

“Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

“Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

“I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

“Go!”

He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

“I’m coming, Angie!”

“Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

“Oh my god, Harper.”

“God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

“What’re we going to do?”

It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#hibiscus kisses fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #slow burn fanfic #vacation fic #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #chris evans au

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever.

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

“Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

“The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

“Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

“You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

“Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

“If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

“No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

“It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

“Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

“Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

“Can you even stand?”

You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

“Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

“I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

“Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

“Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

“No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

“Dude—”

“Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

“You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

“Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

“If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

“By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

“Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

“I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

“I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

“Long as you guys are alive.”

He didn’t respond.

After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

“Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

“A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

“Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

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missinghan · 3 years

Text

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it.

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him?

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums.

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle.

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh.

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes.

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you.

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.”

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record.

The ballroom feels significantly colder now.

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’.

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place.

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two.

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight.

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here.

If he is going to show up at all that is.

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you.

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him.

You’re beautiful.

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical.

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention.

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say?

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.”

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you.

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you.

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up?

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears.

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you.

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud.

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process.

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves.

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart.

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport.

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball.

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year.

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now.

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up.

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time.

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours.

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance.

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire.

It’s perfect. Almost.

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something.

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

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someonedm · 3 years

Text

It was an inconvenience, really. Jane didn't want to be here, and neither did I. She had all her friends to be with, chatting and quacking about things I had nothing to do with. And I had... my alone time, I guess. Sweet, quiet, alone time.

But things didn't go out as planned. Jane got suspended, for being a bitch, and when school said she couldn't go to the field trip, she called her rich parents who got it all sorted out. But room arrangements were already made, which landed her right here, with me.

I suppose we both made the best out of it. She spent her time with her girls, while I had a blast going through social media. But, when bedtime finally arrived, we couldn't avoid it. We have to stay together in the same room.

She steps out of the shower, her wet hair dripping drops of water onto the floor. She turns to me with annoyance. "What are you looking at?"

I hadn't noticed I was staring at her until her remark, and it caught me off by surprise. "Oh. I just-yeah." I got in the shower. "Good thing you are finally washing, don't know if I could sleep with you stinking out the room." She said it so incidentally, not caring about if it'd hurt me or not. The kind of effort someone puts in a "congrats" message in a group chat.

Coming out of the shower, I find her still standing there, looking at her own reflection in the mirror. Seeing me, she swiftly turned to her toothbrush, trying to hide the self-absorbance this entails.

Her eyes, reflecting from the mirror, look tired. Her skin is dotted with little imperfections. Her mouth, which I was so used to see lie on a self-assured smirk, was curved down. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and we could both see her.

Perhaps she was thinking of another insult, perhaps she didn't mind my blank stare, but I noticed her relentlessness as she offered me a moisturizing cream. "You want some?"

"no, thanks."

She went back to her bed silently. She was no longer wearing her popular girl persona. We were both tired and just wanted to sleep.

After finishing my prep up, I too went back to my bed. I stretched my arm into my bag, fishing out a flask. I waved the flask in front of jane. "You want some?"

"Where'd you got this?" She laughed, reaching out her hand to take the flask.

"Stole it from my mom's cabin."

She gave it to me back. "Won't she be pissed at you?"

I gulped some of the scotch. "No way. She must've noticed it was gone as soon as I left. If she cared for me I would have heard from her way too long ago."

"Aaah." She yelped. "Sorry for asking".

"First time?" I asked with a full grin, unable to hide my satisfaction with the situation.

"You think?"

"You goody two shoes got yourself detained recently, so I don't know what to think."

"Hell nah. The first time was eighth grade. My ex's brother organized a party and snuck in booze. They said they would have got me with them, cause I looked a lot older than I was. I think that that sentence was why I took that first glass." She sighed, and I knew she has something weighing on her, but she stopped herself from speaking. "What about you?"

"My mom thinks that my first time was when she gave me, after he- after he- uhhh... yeah. It was a bad night for her, and she couldn't give any shit. I had to act like it was all new to me, as if I hadn't had one of those after other nights. I am not a great actress, but I did have a drunk and tired audience." I looked up to her, and noticed she too had a hard time looking in my eyes. "Forget about me. What about your party? Your ex??" I raised my eyebrows repeatedly, and it got a chuckle out of her.

"I'd rather not talk about him." She smiled, though it was a sad smile. "But since we are discussing firsts... well, me and Tyler. Homecoming party."

"Tyler, huh? never thought he was your type!"

"What do you think my type is?" she asked, intrigued by my statement.

"I thought you liked your boys strong and sassy. The kind of jock smart enough so you won't have to actually tutor him during your 'study sessions'. Not some theater student exchange kid!"

I laughed, but she didn't seem to like it. "Do you really think of me like that? That I'm that basic?"

I looked her in the eyes. Even after knowing how she looked without her makeup, she seemed so tired. The kind of tired that stems from frustration, rather than lack of sleep. Jane cared a lot about how people think of her, even if those people were outcasts like me. "If you want me to be sincere" she nodded. "Yes."

Her soft smile faded. "I guess I should go to sleep, then."

"Wait, I am sorry. Why don't you tell me about Tyler?"

"Okay, but, I can't promise to be awake to finish."

"Consider me an elephant. I am all ears." I gestured with my hands curved, extending my ears.

"He is smart, and funny, and kind - I thought he was kind. He helped me learn for history, and we actually did study, unlike what you were guessing. He said how he missed his friends at home, and I thought it was really sweet. I felt safe with him, that he cared for me. I think he did - I wasn't just a popular girl to achieve. He made it clear, romantic gesture after romantic gesture, and when homecoming came I offered him myself. And it was all great going forward, up until Christmas break. He finally had a chance to go back home and insisted I'd stay home with my family. He ghosted me all that time, including a week after he got back. Then he confronted me. Apparently, he was having a long-distance relationship with whom I thought was his ex, and they had sex when he came back for his visit. Said he loved me but that she won't let him be with me.

So I got a little basic, and invited one of the jocks to have rebound sex in his car. While his girlfriend was over."

I chuckled. "I am sorry. What you went through is terrible. But god damn is that a good way to get back at someone, you magnificent bastard."

"I am glad I am amusing you." I couldn't decipher the look on her face, resting for a split second, before turning back to gossip. "So, who's your first?"

"I had a first- yeah uh I definitely had one."

A malicious smile sneaked onto her face. "No, you didn't."

I held the palm of my hand at the back of my head and looked down in shame. "No, I didn't."

A familiar sense of vanity came from her. "Doesn't matter. Who'd you kissed?"

I wanted to lie, but instead, I hid my face in the palms of my hands, hiding from her glare. "I uh - I hadn't kissed anyone yet."

"Well, that's such a shame! I bet many boys like you. You just don't notice them, that's all."

This comment, coming from her, caught me off by surprise. I had anticipated some sassy, if not outright a bit mean remark. "Really? You think that? Cause you kinda sound like my mom."

I guess I shook her a bit too, cause the sass was quick to come. "I'm sure of it. You know how boys are - they lust after anyone they think they have a chance with."

"Ahh, there it is. Should I take it as a compliment?" I smiled softly. "Cause I'm not hurt."

Her eyes widened for a moment. "No I- I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it like that - Ugh, nevermind." She rubbed her eyes. It was late. "If you want me to, I can help you get any boy you'd like. Who you've got your eyes on?"

I was starting to feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't tell what about this innocent question was so jarring. "I don't know. I never thought about it."

She leaned forward on her bed. "Tell me your type, then, since we already talked about mine."

"You must guess first."

She looked me deep in the eyes, assesing how I looked. She then turned her head to the flask. I imagine she was going through what I've told her, trying to make a sense of me.

"You like shy artsy boys that keep to themselves. You get tired of the enthusiazm of other people, even if it's about things you like, so it's nice having someone who's more quiet, like you. But you also want him to be more emotional than you, cause if it was left up to you, you'd be scared of the relationship falling apart. Did I get it right?"

Her description felt off. It wasn't insulting or arrogant, and I couldn't tell what exactly was incorrect, but it felt wrong.

"I... I don't know." I knew what I wanted to say, and it made me anxious. I could feel the saliva getting stuck in my throat. "I like someone who's sarcastic and witty, and doesn't open up, so when they finally talk earnestly it feels like winning a prize. Someone who cares so much about how other people see them, that they take off their hand crafted mask just for you, and seeing them that way, they are only ever more beautiful."

My gaze drifted away from her as I spoke, and I couldn't bare to see how she had reacted.

"I am tired." Her voice finally broke the silence.

"Me too. I don't want to stop talking to you."

"Me too."

The vision of that flask felt burned in my memory as I thought about reaching out and taking another sip. I couldn't sleep, and perhaps more alcohol in my blood stream meant stopping to think. I couldn't stopped thinking, and it paralized me. Images ran in my mind, thoughts and ideas being intrusive, and I had no help in silencing them.

The steady rhythm of her breath calmed me down, but as I focused on it the intrusive thoughts only grew.

"Hey." Her voice was quite, almost a whisper.

"Can't sleep?" I answered, with the same crooked tone.

"No."

Her breath is still slow and calm, but I can feel my own heart pounding faster. I wonder if she can hear it beat from beyond my skin.

"When you talked about the type of person you like.

You weren't talking about a boy, right?"

I turned my head to face the wall, watching the creaks, trying to make them absorb my thoughts and visions. I knew she would hate me for it, and the thought of being honest made breathing almost impossible.

"No."

I listened the rumble of her bed sheets, and her light steps on the floor, and my squeaking bed as she set on its other edge. Tears filled my eyes and I swallowed the saliva down my throat.

"Was it about me?"

I rose up on my end of the bed, looking at her being the most difficult thing I have ever done. I couldn't see her clearly through my tears, but I knew she was absolutely beautiful.

"Yes."

She reached out her soft hands around the back of my head, leaning closer and kissing me.

I was surprised and uncomfortable but I loved every moment her tender lips touched mine.

I parted away, breathing heavily as I only now felt relieved. I sounded like a wailing baby, and I must have looked like one when I wiped off my tears that continued to come.

She sat there, holding herself. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable... I didn't..."

I braced her as hard as I could. We kissed again, now calm between each other's arms, trading our air between our body and stopping only when we had to. We cherished each other's beauty, finding comfort in each other's eyes.

She laid her head on my lap, and I caressed her hair. "I don't want to leave you."

"Me neither." I leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I want to hold you until dawn. But the bed is too small."

She woke up and went to bed, and it dawned on me how tired I am. As we both lay in our separate cushions, she lends her hand towards mine, and I hold hers.

#writing #creative writing #short story #it took me days to finish this story #love it or else #wlw #wlw story #wlw fluff #lesbian #lesbian story #lesbian fluff #sapphic #sapphic story #gay #queer

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iliumheightnights · 3 years

Text

Baby’s First Spell | Nick Scratch x Male!Morningstar Reader x Harvey Kinkle

Fandom: The chilling adventures of Sabrina Pairing(s): Nick Scratch x Male!Morningstar Reader x Harvey Kinkle Summary: After a spell gone wrong Y/N finds himself turned into a baby and his boyfriends have to act as temporary dads to him...until his actual dad comes. Another cowrite with @inhumanshadows , I always love dad/parental acting stories so this was some great fluff haha. ...

You were reading one of the many spell books that your father had gifted you looking at all the different spells. "Anything interesting?" Harvey asked as he came up behind you.

"Nothing yet. I mean, yes there is, but nothing that catches MY eye you know."

Harvey nodded and Nick walked it. "Oh, we're looking at spells? There must be tons of fun ones in that book the dark lord gave you."

"Yeah. My dad sure does do a good job at giving gifts."

"Oh hey! Look at that, a youth spell. Makes you younger." Harvey pointed out.

"Harvey honey. Does it look like I need to get younger?" You said with some sarcasm.

Harvey shrugged. "I'm just trying to help."

You sigh. "I know you are. Sorry." You keep flipping the pages and huff. "Okay if I have to stare at another spell I will scream."

Nick takes the book away from you and fingers through it. "If it stresses you too much you'll age faster..."

"You just want me to do that age spell don't you?" You ask.

Nick smirks. "Guilty."

Harvey blushes. "You don't even have to go far, just like a couple years."

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine! Hand me the book Scratch."

Nick hands you the book and you recite the age spell. At first nothing happens then you feel as if you're getting smaller. "Is it working?"

"Yeah it's working." The boys answer.

Suddenly there's a small bang and a puff of smoke. When the smoke clears Nick and Harvey stare in shock. The book is on the ground and in your place was a baby.

"Oh praise the dark lord what happened??" Nick shouts.

You struggle and squirm around in your now over sized pile of clothes on the ground, crying.

"W-what happened!?" Harvey asked, staring down at you. "Is that him!?"

Nick was frozen speechless looking at you. "Yes, yes Kinkle I believe that is our boyfriend."

Harvey quickly sprung into action, picking you up and bouncing you in his arms trying to stop your crying. "Sshh, hey y/n. It's okay. It's going to be okay. We're here for you."

Nick came up besides him and gently grabbed your tiny arm. "Yeah, we'll get this figured out. Don't cry."

You're swimming in your shirt, Harvey using it as an impromptu blanket.

"Well?? What do we do?"

"Obviously something went wrong in the spell casting. But I don't know where..."

"Should we call his dad?"

"No!" Nick shouts, oddly enough not making you cry but giggle. "That is the nuclear option as you humans put it. Top priority is getting the little guy some clothes and diapers and food. Let's ask the Spellmans"

Something told Nick that your father might have known something was happening with you. He was the dark lord after all.

Harvey nodded. "Y-yeah. We really gotta make sure to clothe him before he does what babies do."

Nick nodded. "I'm not changing him when it does happen."

Harvey only glared at him causing Nick to put his hands up in surrender.

Nick didn't want to risk teleporting you in your current state so he held you while Harvey drove over to the mortuary.

Sabrina opens the door. "Hi guys... Harvey called saying you needed my aunties- is that a baby?"

"Long story, 'Brina. Where's your aunts?"

"Auntie Z is at the academy and Aunt Hilda is in the kitchen" She says, still confused.

"Thanks." Harvey and Nick don't wait to be invited in before storming past her and head towards the kitchen.

"Hilda! Please we need your help!"

"What's the matter b-is that a baby?" Hilda asked.

"It's Y/N. He accidentally turned himself into a baby and we don't know what to do. First we need to get him in diapers."

You cooed and giggled squirming a bit in Harvey's grasp.

"That's my half brother? Well at least he's a cute baby" Sabrina says walking into the kitchen.

"Sabrina? go get the extra diapers from upstairs. and Ambrose’s old baby clothes." Hilda delegates. "Now, Mr. Scratch? I assume you have the spellbook?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Should we give him a bath?" Harvey asks. "Or feed him first?"

"Feed him. He'll get dirty THEN you can give him a bath." Hilda said, her maternal figure coming out.

"Alright. Yeah sounds good." Harvey said.

Nick was looking nervous. "Can you-um, not tell his father about this?"

Hilda laughs to herself. "It's the Dark Lord my dears... he may very well already know. But I won't directly tell him, I promise. There's some jars of baby food in the fridge, Harvey. Will you be alright if I borrow Nick to look at a potential reversal for the spell?"

Harvey nods.

With that Hilda took Nick away, but not before Nick gave you a small peck on your forehead. "Don't worry dear you'll be okay."

Then Harvey got to work on feeding you. Pulling the baby food from the fridge and grabbing a small spoon he began feeding you. Harvey would be lying if he said he didn't do the whole 'here comes the airplane' stuff on you and it made both of you laugh.

After a bit and lots of baby food not reaching your mouth later, he finished feeding you. "There. See? Not so bad...but we're definitely going to have to get you cleaned now. You're filthy."

Nick and Hilda came back soon both looking rather calm. "Well there's no reversal for it immediately, but the good news is that the spell SHOULD wear off."

"Good how long?" Harvey asked.

Neither spoke. "We-don't know. But we think maybe a week."

Harvey's eyes widened. "A WEEK!? Our boyfriend's going to be a baby for a week?"

Nick smirked. "Well...you always did say you wanted to be a dad."

"True. But you're helping me!" Harvey points out, handing you to Nick. "Starting with a bath."

"Fine! How hard can it be?" Nick says, following Sabrina upstairs to what is technically Y/N's room.

"You three are more than welcome to stay here in Y/N's room. Probably better in case you dears need advice and in case something happens regarding the spell." Hilda says, patting Harvey on the shoulder.

"Thanks Hilda." Harvey says.

Her and Sabrina leave the three in the room. You google and squirm a bit in Harvey's arms getting the boys to smile.

"He IS rather adorable like this. Let's keep him." Nick jokes which causes Harvey to roll his eyes.

"Let's get him in a bath first."

They take you to the bathroom and because the bathtub is too large, they settle for the sink so they don't drown you. Making sure the water wasn't too hot or cold they gently sat you inside. "Alright. You clean him."

"What?" Nick asked. "Why do I have to clean him?"

"Because I fed him so you clean him...dad." Harvey jokes, sending a smirk to Nick.

"You're lucky I love both of you."

Nick got to work on washing you and as he did, the lights flickered on and off.

"Oh no. That's not good."

With another flicker Lucifer showed up in the bathroom. He looked...not pissed but rather amused. "Mr.Scratch, Mr.Kinkle. I'm looking for my son."

The boys say nothing; the silence broken by you splashing around in the sink.

"Looks like the jig is up Nick..." Harvey says.

"Oh it was up from the moment my dear son cast the spell. I am me after all." Lucifer says, pushing past the boys and picking you up, magically drying you off. "Oh my precious boy... what did you do?"

You only giggle and reach out grabbing onto your dad's face. He breaks into a smile before pestering your face with kisses.

"That's my little boy! Oh how I've missed you like this!"

Nick and Harvey are shocked at what they're seeing. They honestly didn't think the dark lord would be so...caring and loving.

Lucifer brought you into his chest and held onto you there. "I hope you don't mind. I think I'll be sticking around so I can have some bonding time with my baby boy." He gave them both a look telling them he would be staying and there were no objections.

Both boys nodded. "Of course sir." Nick said. Harvey was at a loss of words.

Lucifer laughs at them. "Bet you didn't expect to be raising your boyfriend did you boys?"

"No sir... I can honestly say we weren't" Harvey stiffly answers

"Boys relax. I'm not going to kill you or anything. Y/N would make me regret it. Besides, I should thank you. I've missed him like this so I'm grateful."

Lucifer turns back to you and tickles your tummy, walking off with you. "where's the dark prince?? There he is!!"

"Did our boyfriend get kidnapped?" Nick asks

"Well, technically it was by his dad?" Harvey retorts.

The boys walk back downstairs and sit at the table.

"Oh tea?" Hilda asks. "Wait... where's the little one?"

"With Lucifer" Harvey and Nick reply

Hilda nods continuing on like nothing matters. "Told you. You can't hide anything from him."

At the time the boys were having tea. Your dad had put you in a diaper finally and came carrying you back into your room. Sitting on your bed.

"Aw look at you. That's my special little boy. My little dark prince you."

You only giggle and played with his fingers.

"You know I wasn't sure about your boyfriends but they've been taking care of you so that puts them on my good side...for now."

Then you made a face and your dad knew exactly what happened. It happened many times when you were a baby originally. "Aw, someone needs a diaper change. Normally I would do it, but I think this is another test for your lovers."

“Oh boys!” Lucifer cheers descending the steps.

The boys scramble out of their seats.

“Time for a rite of passage for anyone raising a child: the first diaper change.”

Hilda laughs from the kitchen. “Oh my.”

Both boy's faces go pure white. All blood draining from their face.

"Not it!" both of them said at the same time.

Lucifer laughs. "Oh yes you will. You're his boyfriends and if I have to change him, I'll turn you both into his next diapers. I don't think anyone wants that." He smirks at their frightened faces from hearing that.

“And I’ll be here if you have questions. But it’s all very self explanatory.”

The boys grab the new diaper and wipes and head to the nearby bathroom.

Not a minute later Hilda and Lucifer hear.

“Satan in hell where does it all come from???”

Both adults bust out laughing, bent over as the chaos continues.

Not a couple minutes later they can hear a shower running.

Lucifer stood up. "I better make sure everything went smoothly."

Going into the bathroom, he found all three of you in the shower, Nick and Harvey trying to clean themselves up. The bathroom itself looked like it was safe from any mess though.

Lucifer gained a smirk. "I'm guessing it went a little rough?"

“Just a bit...” Harvey laughs.

“Well honestly you boys did about as well as I expected. Which isn’t a bad thing.”

Nick is under the water after handing you to Lucifer. “... how does one baby poop so much??!”

"He's also the dark prince, so he's expected to excel at everything he does Scratch."

Lucifer smirks as he takes in your boyfriend's naked appearances.

Harvey tries to cover himself up but Nick doesn't even bother.

“Well well. My son has good taste. You boys wash up and rest. I’ll go and play with this bundle of joy.” Lucifer leaves the boys.

“Well we see where Y/N’s personality comes from.” Harvey says.

"Careful what you say Kinkle, you'll never know what the dark lord will do to you."

Lucifer smiled from the other room as he heard that. He loved tormenting his son's lovers.

After a while the boys exited the bathroom dressed to find your dad holding a napping you in his arms.

"Aw, I see your done boys."

Lucifer stood up and handed you over to Harvey.

"I have to take care of something so I must leave him in your care for just a bit. Take care of my son or I'll make you suffer."

Both boys nodded and Lucifer was off.

"He's so cute."

"Yeah he is." Nick said, pressing a kiss to Harvey's cheek. "We'll make great dads."

"Bet it'll be better when he's also a dad with us."

...

The week passed rather quickly after that Lucifer returned and made sure to stay the entire time. The boys got used to feeding and changing you when need be while your dad just oggled after you, loving the time with his baby boy. At one point Harvey must have said something to tick off your dad and ended up being turned into your teddy bear for a day, Nick had to beg for him to be turned back but the entire time you just snuggled with the bear.

Eventually the week came to an end. Nick was carrying you to the sink to give you a bath when suddenly you started growing at an alarming rate and ended up your regular age wearing a diaper. You smiled at Nick and peppered a kiss. "Thanks for changing my diapers babe." You joked at him. "Yeah. Wait- you remember everything!?"

"Oh yeah I had my regular mind the entire time. I remember every single bit that happened. Including my dad cooing over me and Harvey being a teddy bear."

Nick huffed. "Unbelievable."

Lucifer and Harvey entered the bathroom, Harvey running to hug his boyfriend while your father rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing baby time is over."

You laughed. "It's alright dad. We can always turn YOU into a baby and see how you like it."

Your father seemed to be considering it too and you laughed before turning back to your boyfriends.

“I love you both so much! And if we ever become dads? We’re gonna rock!!”

The boys nod and kiss you.

“Well glad that you’re back to normal my boy. I shall be off.” Lucifer says, giving you a hug. “Mr. Scratch? Mr.Kinkle? Good job.”

And just like that, Lucifer was gone. You changed into normal clothes and laid in bed with your boyfriends, who passed out as soon as they hit the bed.

The next day you all woke up to the sound of a huff.

Sitting up you saw a rather familiar looking baby on your bed.

"Oh my Satan. Dad this wasn't an invitation for us to watch you!"

Nick and Harvey noped out of there so fast. "Nope, not again! You're watching him this time."

#the chilling adventures of sabrina #harvey kinkle x male reader #nick scratch x male reader #harvey kinkle x male!reader #nick scratch x male!reader #inhumanshadows

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bubsdolan · 3 years

Note

OMG WAIT I MEANT 74 not 17 i’m so sorry

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”, “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

smut masterlist.

“bro, have you heard from y/n? i sent her an email about a couple dates we’ve got coming up but she hasn’t replied,” grayson addressed him brother about the whereabouts of you, their assistant. after not hearing from you for a few hours, he was beginning to worry.

he quite frankly didn’t care about the dates, the overloading schedule or the work you were paid to do, he just needed peacr at mind to know if you were ok. he cared for you more than he liked to admit aloud. some call it love, but you were their assistant and he had to keep it strictly professional for the sake of his business.

“yeah, she phoned in sick. bro, he cheated on her, again,” ethan rolled his eyes at the mention of your boyfriend- well ex boyfriend. a man both twins disapproved of almost immediately after you introduced him to them. they were good judges of character and max, the spawn of satan in grayson’s eyes, failed the test the minute he stepped foot into their home.

grayson took a deeper hatredto max than ethan did. yes he was extremely jealous, but you also deserved to be treated like the queen you were and max certainly did not fit those standards. hell, grayson was starting to question if he even did. you needed him more than ever right now and there he was spamming your inbox with more work you certainly weren’t in the right frame of mind to deal with.

without even responding to his brother, grayson took off in hurry and headed straight to your apartment, blood boiling and body tense. a drive he had driven many a times before but tonight held a completely different meaning. he knew it was wrong, an invasion of privacy , but he was so concerned about you, that he used the key you gave him for emergencies to let himself in. your broken heart was the biggest emergency he could ever imagine. you needed him. he needed you.

“y/n! you in here?” graysons pushes the your front door open with slight force, desperate to see you and comfort you in his arms. his heart broke at the sight of you bundled up on the sofa, surrounded by snotty tissues and empty food wrappers you used to eat your feelings away. you looked a mess, a broken shell of a human, however, you had never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

“angel-”

“gray? what are you doing here.. i saw your emails, i-i promise im not ignoring you, i just-”

“y/n, its ok. ethan told me what happened and i just needed to see if you were alright,” you immediately tried to make yourself look presentable in front of your boss. even though it was no use, to far gone, you always wanted to look the best for grayson- in prayers he would find you as attractive as you found him.

“i know you never liked him always. i guess this is an i told you so?” you tried to lighten the mood like you always did in uncomfortable situations- one thing grayson admired the most about you. you could sense just how pissed grayson was as he stood there with a tense jaw and clenched fists. was it wrong to find him sexy in that moment.

grayson took a seat next to you with caution, his hand subconsciously finding its place on your thigh and rubbing small comforting circles you never knew you needed until today. his touch held more of spark then anything with max during your entire relationship . you felt all your sadness suddenly wash away the minute grayson eyes burned into yours- and that’s when you knew you were in too deep.

the moment is peaceful, grayson laughs at your little joke but would never say the words ‘i told you so’, no matter how much he wanted to. you went though enough misery, he didn’t want to add to that. he wanted to save you from it. so instead, you simply bathed in the attention he was providing, your eyes holding his gaze as you soon felt yourself leaning in closer.

grayson’s body felt a gravitational pull towards you, unable to resist the urgers as he felt your hot breath fan over his face. his lips so close to your own, he could almost taste you. “y/n, i don’t wanna take advantage of you. you just got out of a serious relationship, as much as i want to i-“

“kiss me, grayson. please,” you whisper. pleading with the man of your dreams to take your heart and make it whole again. he made no effort to create a distance between you when he voiced his doubts, and that in turn had you crashing your lips together in a heated, desperate make out.

grayson grew more confident the more you kiss. already addicted to the taste of your lips as he gradually lowers his body down to hover over your own. staring down at you like a kid on christmas opening his most wished for gift. you could sense the uncertainty in his eyes whenever he would pull away and admire you. taking in the moment of finally having you. it warmed your heart at how gentle he was being, how attentive and soft. something you had been deprived off in your previous relationship.

“gray, i want this,” your hands connect around his neck to bring his head down and meet your lips once again. needing him more in the moment, that nothing else in the world truly mattered. in seconds you’re both stripped of your clothes, panting and whimpering with each other as grayson’s hand danced over your thighs. spreading your legs and admiring the glimmering sight of your slick pussy. it was prettier than he had ever imagined.

“i’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”, his words held meaning, all his pent up anger and emotion towards your failed relationship coming out as he does just that. rubbing the tip of throbbing dick around your hole, before slowly pushing in and allowing you to adjust to his size.

he was bigger than max that’s for sure. he had more girth and certainly knew what he was doing when it came to pleasing a lady. grayson hit all the right spots you never knew existsed inside your own body, his penis hitting lengths deep inside you that had your toes curling and nails digging into the delicate skin of his back.

“fuck, gray. faster, faster, ahh,” you throw your head back in utter euphoria. grayson bouncing off your moans and sexual energy as he pulled out briefly to tease you, before thrusting so hard into your folds that it had you jolting into his body. his hands held dominance on your hips, sure to leave bruising and mark his territory.

“you like this huh, mama. i bet he never made you cum, bet he never had you screaming, had you squirting and shaking like the little slut you are.”

this was a completely different and new side to grayson you had ever seen. the way his skin was slapping aggressively against your own, his balls hitting the curve of your arse with each and every thrust. his words- his filthy mouthwateringly pleasurable words had you on the very brink of the best orgasm of your life.

“tell me who’s pussy this belongs to,” grayson growls through gritted teeth. bringing a hand down to slap at the bud of your clit and rub at the sensitive area. it worked wonders in bringing you closer to cream around his dick.

“tell me, y/n or i stop.”

“yours! it’s yours, gray- shit,” you extend your head agasint the couch with a hearty moan. the feeling in your stomach so intense it has your body squirming under him. a fucked out sight he engraved in his memory.

“call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” grayson never intended to go soft in such an intimate moment. he wanted to keep up the dominant act to please you, to show you what you had been missing out on and could very well have at the click of your fingers. but at the way you looked so wrecked from his motions, reacting to his cock and clenching around him, fitting in every inch he had to offer, had him falling in love with you a thousand times over.

“i love you- fuck, i love you, gray,” your confession brings him to a suddent hault. his penis stopping still buried inside your folds as he stared down at you with disbelief. was he dreaming? was this just another figment of his imagine? he was stunned. speechless. motionless.

“i mean it, grayson. i know i-i shouldn’t, but i love you. it’s you, it’s always been you.” overcome with such confidence, you bring your shaky hand up to brush the pad of your thumb against his delicate cheek. melting under him as you witness the biggest and brightest smile you had ever seen on such a beautiful man. a work of art.

the moment couldn’t have been more intimate. your body’s conjoined together, holding each other close and breaking the professional boundaries that were long forgotten. it was you and grayson, how it always should have been and will be till the end of time.

“i love you, baby. more than you’ll ever realise,” grayson leans down to kiss you. a smug feeling knowing he can now whenever he wanted to without reason, he could display his love for you without having to hide his true feelings. he feels your walls pulsating are around him as he made love to you. making him forget all about the life changing moment of your confession and continuing to fuck your tight cunt and show you that you made the right decision in falling in love with grayson dolan.

“now, let me show you what a real man feels like, baby. not gonna stop till i got you squirting around my dick a milliont times. we got some making up to do.”

183 notes · View notes

violetsoju · 3 years

Text

snapshot

miya atsumu · fluff · 1.9k

muse: highlight - not the end

a/n: my ultimate boys are finally back after three and a half years, and my inner fangirl that has been asleep for way too long has been unleashed for the past few days. hence, this impulsive piece. do let me know if you enjoyed it ❤️

It’s time.

After a year or so, there’s finally light at the end of the tunnel. Cherry blossoms are in full bloom again, gracing the pathways with shades of light pink and white.

It’s the beginning of a new year, of new beginnings, of new hopes and dreams. A time of renewal and rebirth. When cherry blossoms are in full bloom, the future is bursting with possibilities.

What better way to start off the new year with something that makes your heart blossom with love and joy?

You’ve been deep in slumber for the past year, so it’s about time to be awaken and open the curtains for the sunlight shine in.

Your planner is inked with colourful notes and doodles, laptop reformatted with an empty recycle bin, camera equipment cleaned and dusted, phone storage deep-cleaned.

It’s hard to not notice the bright smile tugging your lips even without the mandatory cup of morning coffee, greeting everyone in the office like a ray of sunshine. Even your supervisor notices it and is surprised with the increased efficiency of work from your end. Perhaps he’s more surprised with your razor sharp accuracy in clocking out every day, disappearing in a flash once the clock strikes 6.

Your colleagues can’t seem put a finger to the recent change in your behaviour. What’s an afterwork get-together without you and ridiculous tipsy antics? Not even your favourite yakult soju or the summoning of your supervisor could drag your feet to the dinner place.

“Do you have a boyfriend? That’s why you’re so busy recently?” They would ask. Or they would try and wiggle their way by asking “Is there someone waiting at home for you?”

No matter how tactfully they twist and turn their words, they were all futile attempts. Because all they would get was a sickly sweet innocent smile that never met your crescent-shaped eyes, and an automatic response. “Thank you for the invite, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass tonight. Have fun!”

They had their bets that you were wrapped up with your secret little love life, spending nights over at your lover’s place, whispering sweet nothings into the night. “Ah, young love.” They would sigh. “Remember to stay protected!”

Your tight lipped smile fuelled them further instead. Why don’t you say anything, they wonder.

To you, why waste your energy explaining something that is incomprehensible to them and risk having yourself being the centre of gossip? Not that you are already the recent centre of gossip.

Because they won’t understand the surge of excitement flowing through your veins at the ping of notifications popping up on your phone screen during work. They won’t understand the of anticipation for the timer on a video screen to turn zero, whether on the way home or while having dinner. They won’t understand the happiness of late night chats with likeminded people online, sleep washed away while gushing and typing in full caps with each other. They won’t understand the buzz of giddiness with just one post, one picture or one sentence. They won’t understand the little squeal behind a picture or a minute-long video unexpectedly appearing on screen. They won’t understand having the same song or same album on loop for days, weeks, or months. They don’t understand the dilemma of choosing a wallpaper or lockscreen for your phone. They don't understand how by remembering a person or something they have said before drives unimaginable motivation and makes the toughest circumstances bearable and possible to overcome. They won't understand how a person who doesn't know your existence personally can be a source of comfort and happiness.

They won’t understand the real reason why you’re smiling like a fool at your phone.

Maybe if they peered carefully at your phone screen, they would know why.

And it’s not what they had in bet.

Well, they were partly right if you were to be completely honest.

But if you were to place your bets, you’re sure most of them would still be scratching their heads in confusion at the black, gold and white logo.

It may be foreign to them, but you swear that you can see those colours even if you’re blind.

MSBY. The 8 member boy group. Worldwide superstars. The whole damn package. Boys made for the dazzling stage. Boys that deserve the whole world. Boys whose talent knows no limits. Boys that you hold dear to your heart.

Ever since Hinata Shouyou, the youngest of the group had injured his lower back and knee during choreography practice (in which was revealed with a slip of a tongue in a livestream that Bokuto and him were so engrossed with a certain acrobatic move which involved a backflip from a higher ground, they begged their choreographer to add it into their new choreography. Instead of showing a clip of the move, they decided to give it a shot and perform it live spontaneously for everyone, where too much adrenaline and a small slip had him lying in the hospital bed for weeks), the group had collectively come to a conclusion to halt their activities until he was fully recovered and ready to roll. There were no solo activities, solo promotions or unit activities despite the attractive proposals or invitations. Such a waste of talent and time, many said. What is their company thinking? Letting their cash cow go to waste like that. But they tuned out all the crap, and firmly held to their resolve of being together as a group; all for one, and one for all.

“We’ll be back. And we know you all have our backs.” Meian Shuugo, the leader of the pack assured, eyes filled with resolute and confidence.

So after a draught of 456 days to be exact, an oasis finally appeared in the burning desert sands. When the notification titled ‘MSBY is back’ appeared on phone and laptop screens alike, it took a few seconds for everyone to blink and make sure it wasn’t a mirage. But the small tick was unmistakable. Then the whole fandom lost their shit.

This isn’t a drill. MSBY is back. In full swing.

The black jackals are ready to hunt. Their hunger has been supressed long enough. They’ve been starved for too long. They’re out for blood. They’re ready to pounce at any moment. They’re back in the game.

(If you were to be real honest, everyone should have saw this coming after that particular livestream where Bokuto, the renowned king of spoilers, animatedly announced that “We’ll be seeing you guys soon. Like real soon!” with his wide toothy smile, to which Inunaki Shion ferociously slapped him in the back with a cramped broad smile plastered on his face. “In the next livestream, of course! Can’t wait to see you guys soon!” The mom of the group added through gritted teeth. Adriah Tomas choked on his water and sheepishly grinned, while Sakusa Kiyoomi stared ahead unfazed, like this was a daily occurrence.)

Which means it’s time for you to get back to work. Which is also no surprise why you’ve been so occupied these days, having two schedules to work with: your personal schedule and MSBY’s comeback schedule. Which also means, your weekends are MSBY’s weekends.

Fangirling is a job to be taken very, seriously.

Change of word choice for the better. Supporting your idols is a job to be taken very, seriously.

So on a pleasantly warm Saturday afternoon with cherry blossoms petals dancing in the wind, as you try your best to stable yourself on the ground with the huge ass DSLR in your hands, you scan for a specific person among the sea of people ahead. A specific blond, to be exact. But lucky you, because even if you don’t scan for him, he finds his way to your camera lens. Which is why your pictures are one of the most sought after and anticipated of the idol Miya Atsumu, lead dancer of MSBY.

It’s like he has antennas on the top of his head. Despite the flurry of cameras flashing at him, confessions and screams drowning out his surroundings, rapid camera shutters going off like woodpeckers drumming relentlessly on a tree, he somehow, always manages to locate you, to look right into your camera lens, giving you his million dollar smile or infamous grin with small fangs peeking from the sides. The cherry on top? His top-notch fanservice. He never, never fails to give a reaction to you. Be it a small wave, a heart shape with his arms bent over his head, or a flirtatious wink that would combust hearts right on the spot.

You’re beyond grateful for his attentiveness and recognition towards you. It’s not like you’re on his heels. Hitting the shutter button is just a pastime of yours when your schedule allows. In better words, you’re just a random potato popping up occasionally with a camera. Plus, it’s no easy feat to pick a specific person out among a sea of people, especially with tens or hundreds of faces flashing before his eyes in one go.

Truth to be told, you’re thankful for the special attention too, because you get to share the fun and playful side of him with everyone, to light up everyone’s day with pictures of their favourite golden boy. Sharing is caring, and in this big close-knitted family, everyone deserves to be well fed.

However, the good things in life are never free.

Jealousy is a bitch, and bitches need to get well soon. Rumours are born out of wicked tongues, and wicked tongues are born out of the evil fire of envy.

Baseless ridiculous tales circulate among the community. How you’re the daughter of some big-shot of the company or political figure, using, or abusing your privilege connections to gain his favour. How you’re an obsessive fan who has intruded your way into his life, holding his career by the reins out of corrupted love by stalking and threatening him to pose for the camera, your camera specifically if he wants to keep himself and his group safe. How it’s a business relationship between the both of you: you as his private photographer, him paying you to get perfect shots of him to boost his popularity, to outshine his members, to feed his monstrous ego.

But do you care? Of course you don’t.

Because between this jam-packed schedule, this is the only time you get to see your boyfriend in real life, and you want to keep a record of his amazing journey through your lenses. It’s a diary of his growth, the beautiful moments in his life. A diary for him, you and his fans. To also show him that you’re here with him, here for him, no matter what.

And does Miya Atsumu care? Of course he doesn’t.

Because what more can he ask by having the opportunity to see you in flesh, even if it’s just a few seconds amidst his hectic back-to-back schedules. You’re his serotonin, the one that he misses holding in his arms after a long tiring day, the one that keeps him going, the one that he can count on for being there.

Knowing that you’re there at every step of the way makes him take each step with more confidence and pride.

So as Miya Atsumu exits the broadcasting building, he searches for a familiar camera lens among the sea of similar looking cameras shoved in his face. He sweeps his gaze from left to right, and grins when he spots the one he’s looking for.

A face sculpted by the gods with a boyish grin that could lit up the world graces the cameras of many, but only one captures his eyes gleaming with delight head on.

There was a really cute fanart of idol! Atsumu but the artist has closed her twitter account so I can't link it here T_T but if you do have any idol! Atsumu fanarts do send them in hehe

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strawberri-blonde · 3 years

Text

Amortentia - Fred Weasley

Summary: Your classic enemies to lovers.

Warning: Curse words.

Feeling the piece of paper hit your face for what felt like the Millionth time; your tolerance was long worn down. You went to grab your wand but Hermione stopped you by resting her hands into your wrist but it didn’t stop the anger that was filling your soul as you looked over at the Weasley twins. “Y/n, no.” The twins laughed as they saw the glare upon your face.

“Merlin, I’ll gulge your eyes out with my wand, Fred!” The older twin chuckled making George share a laugh as well. Heat filled your face and reached your ears making it feel as if steam was coming out. Hermione saw the anger that resisted in your expression and slowly took your wand from your grip worried for the Weasleys.

“I’d like to see you try sweetheart.” An aggravated squeal left your lips causing the whole class to turn in the direction of the two tables earning the attention of a certain Professor. The twins kept laughing while Hermione nudge you to the front of the class where Professor McGonagall resigned with a stern look.

“If the two of you are done flirting, then it’s time to get back to the lesson.” You instantly felt your cheeks overflow in a deep red while Fred tried to cover his embarrassment with a light smirk but George didn’t fall for his tricks. He bump his shoulder against Fred’s making the boy blush before shoving his brother back somewhat harder. “Boys.”

“Sorry, Professor.” After the Weasleys apologied McGonagall stared them down for one last time before continuing.

Shaking away your insecurities, you grabbed onto the your quill and began to concentrate on today’s lesson while mumbling out, “idiots.”

You clenched your books in your hand as you glided down the halls with ease, your mind was so concentrated on the fact that lunch was going to be served soon that you didn’t notice the human being that you bumped into. “Oh, I’m sorr-”

“Watch it mugblood.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as the insult spewed from the blondes lips. Tears started to form but you wouldn’t dare let that snake see you cry. Before you could respond someone grabbed your shoulders and moved you to stand behind them. “Why don’t you shut your mouth Malfoy before I make sure you can’t speak again.”

Draco let out a laugh making his minions do the same while you looked up at Fred in confusion. Why was he helping you? “What a Weasley, trying to shield a mugblood. Makes sense.” You tensed at the harsh word again, causing the red head to fume. “Your whole family should be qualified as mugblood yourselves I mean-” Draco’s word were literally caught in his throat as Fred stepped forward with his long legs and wrapped his lanky but strong hands around the pure bloods throat.

Your eyes increased in size and worry filled your soul but not for Draco, who was getting his windpipe crushed, but surprisingly for Fred. He could get in so much trouble. When the minions saw the scary expression on his face they ran away too scared to turn up like Draco. “Fred.” You clasped his robes into your hands and tried to yank onto the fabric as hard as you could but the boy was like a rock. “Fred let him go.” What sounded like whimpers left Draco’s mouth as Fred seemed to ignore you completely. “Please.” Hearing your plea, the Weasley turned towards you and looked at your defeated expression and softened his gaze. Letting out a sigh, he dropped the boy to the floor with no hesitation.

“If you ever,” he continued as he bent down to Draco’s level. “Speak to Y/n again. I won’t stop.” Your heart raced at his words and you stood perfectly still as Fred straightened his posture and put a hand behind your back to motion you away from the mess he made. His touch was so gentle that if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t feel it.

As you both turned the corner, you clenched your books towards your chest. “Thank you for that, but I had it covered.” Fred let out a laugh and bumped into you slightly to joke around.

“Oh, I bet, but I really wanted to strangle that swamp arse.” Rolling your eyes you stepped onto the staircase and before you could grab the hand rail, the motion of it moving caused you to fall into his arms. “Darn, Y/n I didn’t figure you the type of girl to fall in a boys arms.” Hearing the cockiness, you pushed off him and took a step up and gripped the rail into your hand. Once the stair was set, you walked up the top and greet the portrait of the singing fat lady. Her silk pink dress flowed as she turned to look at the two of you and her eyes widen. “Pass- bloody, you two are standing beside one another and aren’t arguing?” You blushed whiled Fred laughed out the password.

“Caput Draconis.” With confusion in her painted eyes, she opened the door to the Gryffindor common room. Comfort washed over as you took in the cinnamon scent and saw the warm fire. “Maybe I’ll save you a seat in the dining hall.” You blushed as you looked down at your feet before looking at at the handsome man. “Can’t have anyone ruffling your feathers but me.”

You smirked and nodded your head, “but you huh.”

“Yeah.” Fred stuffed his hands in his pockets to stand a little taller. “But me.”

Ever since that day you and Fred and been a little more civil with one another... Okay, a lot more civil. At first so many people thought you both were joking; that it was some big prank because after all the years of straight arguing all of a sudden you like each other?

You let the huff escape from your lips as you went over the potion you were going to do in Professor Snape’s class but Fred wasn’t doing much help as he stuffed his face with countless of chocolate frogs. Giving the boy a sharp look, Fred laughed at your expression. “What?”

“You’re making a mess.” You closed the spell book while Fred bit off the head of the chocolate figure. “You’re going to get chocolate everywhere.”

A mischievous smirk made its way to the Weasleys face as he turned to you. “Oh you mean like this.” You gasped at he wiped some milk chocolate onto your noise without thinking of the consequences. “Or this.” You mouth closed its gap and instead an ‘are you serious,’ expression took its place as he wiped a line of chocolate on your right cheek. “What about this?” You sighed as he now spread the dark sweetness to your left cheek.

“You done yet.” Fred tilted his head and squinted his eyes and clicked his tongue against his cheek. He lifted his thumb and slowly pressed it on your bottom lip, teasingly sliding it across making your breath get caught in your throat. You both seemed to be in a trance as your eyes never left his and all of his attention was on your lips.

The room grew hot as your hearts race from the need of each other. Slowly you slipped the tip of your tongue out and licked away the sweetness and took his thumb into your warm and wet mouth. Fred had to clench the couch cushions to surpress himself from pouncing on you. The way you swirled your tongue around his thumb sent him in a frenzy. Seeing his eyes darkened from hunger you let him go with a pop. “How should I get the rest off?” Fred went to reach for your waist but the door to the common room opened with Harry, Ron and George coming in. You pushed Fred away from you sending him to the floor and your cheeks were flooded red from embarrassed that you let your hormones take over your mind like that.

The three boys looked at you two in confusion and Ron was the first to speak. “Y/n, why do you have chocolate all over your face and Fred, bloody hell mate. Get off the floor.” Fred sat up with a huff and George started to laugh quickly understand his frustration and you became a blubbering mess.

“Um, I-I um...” you got chocked up and gestured towards your spell book. “We, um... I-I.” And just like that you took off disguarding your supplies and ran up to your room hoping to hide away from embarrassment.

“So Ron told me about last night.” You rolled your eyes as you added ingredients to the spell.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered back checking to make sure Professor Snape wasn’t looking because you really didn’t feel like getting yelled at by him today.

“Um, huh.” Hermione squinted her eyes and let a smirk take over as you pulled away from the spell and reached for your book but then you remembered how you left your book in the common room.

“Past.” Like as if he could read your mind Fred held your book in the air and waved it around making you giggle. You reached out to snatch it but the Weasley lifted it higher making you stick your tongue out to him.

“Freddie, give it.” This was the first time you’ve given him the nickname and it made him almost cave in.

“Come and get it.” You rolled your eyes at his words and looked to make sure Snape wasn’t looking before ever so slowly getting up from your seat to grab your book but right as you were about to snatch it, you stepped on a weak board having it squeak. In a flash Severus Snape turned in your direction having you look like a deer caught in head lights.

“What are you doing Ms. Y/l/n?”

“Um.” You mumbled not liking having everyone’s eyes on you.

“It’s my fault, Professor.” Fred stood up and gestured towards her book. “I took her book and Y/n was just trying to get it back.”

“Why is it?” He questioned stepping closer to the pair. “Every time there’s a noise or argument it’s from you two. Granger.” Hermione snapped her head up giving her attention to the older man. “Switch seats with Mr. Weasley.”

“Um which one sir?” Snape snapped a glare in Fred’s direction.

“Mr. Weasley you will sit in Ms. Granger’s seat and partner with Y/n and you two will learn to exist together and not argue.” Confusion went around the room because everyone took notice as to how great Y/n and Fred have gotten along. I guess Snape didn’t get the memo.

You shyly say back down and waved Hermione bye and internal screamed when Fred took a seat to your right. “Alright, everyone get back to the potion.”

Fred bumped you shoulder and handed you your book to which you took with a smile and opened it to the page you needed. “What are we making anyway?”

Shaking your head, you mumbled out. “Poor Hermione.” You added the last ingredient and began to stir. “It’s Amortentia it spells like whatever you’re attracted to.” You pushed Fred’s chest and laughed. “But with all of your cologne I can’t smell anything.” Fred rolled his eyes playfully and pulled you into him.

“First of all I could say the same Y/n, I mean did you broke the whole bottle on yourself and second, I was in a rush so I couldn’t put my cologne on only my deodorant.”

You two laughed at each other saying how the other is lying when Snape raisies his voice at the two. “You’re smelling each other from the Amortentia you idiots.” And just like that your smiles dropped and you both stared intimately at one another.

“If we weren’t in class right now I’d so kiss you.” Fred widen his eyes then signaled to George. Hermione looked worried as George pulled out some random vile from his robes and poured it into the potion. Green mist sprung loose and this horrible smell filled everyone’s noses. Fred grabbed you’re books along with his with one hand and grabbed your wrist with the other to pull you out the class. You couldn’t stop laughing at Fred pulled you down the halls and he dropped your books to grab your cheeks into his large hands.

As your eyes met, and heavy breathes collided you both smiled widely at one another. You were the first to make your move as you stood on your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him down for the kiss. Fred caresses your skin as he felt your soft plump lips move heavenly against his thin ones. Heat pooled between the two as the kiss deepened. Fred licked the bottom of your lip for entrance and instead of accepting you pulled back with a giggle and grabbed his hands and pulled him behind you guiding him through the halls laughter filling wherever y’all went. Once when two reach the Gryffindor commons rooms laughter did appear once or twice but it was mostly filled with your sounds of passionate love.

#hogwarts imagine #hogwarts #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred and george #fred and goerge weasley #weasley imagine

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professional-bts-simp · 3 years

Text

Ominous

Choi Beomgyu x Reader

Summary: Nothing bad happens when you visit presumably haunted houses on Halloween, absolutely nothing.

Genre: Horror, I guess some angst as well, sprinkle of fluff

Warning: Blood, demons, nightmares, visions from nightmares, screaming, crying

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking side by side, hand in hand you and your boyfriend got closer to the dark house as you started clutching the flashlight in your other hand with each step you took. This was such a bad idea.

Why did you say yes to this?

Why did Beomgyu say yes to this?

There must be something seriously wrong with both of you. Going to the supposedly haunted house on your favourite holiday might just be the stupidest idea you agreed to.

“Ready to go in?” Beomgyu asked you as you two stepped up to the front door of the house.

“Sure, but you know we could just not.” You tried reasoning, “We don’t have to.”

He hummed, “We kind of do. Yeonjun dared us.” You immediately rolled your eyes at that statement. Just because that clown dared you to do something doesn’t mean you have to actually do it. You were never playing Truth or Dare with him again.

“Ugh let’s just get this over with.” You pointed the flashlight at the door, grimacing at the old wood that was rotting away. Your boyfriend however walked up to the door and opened it, albeit with a little more force, and suddenly you were in.

The inside of the room looked like any other haunted house you saw in horror movies. Dusty, dark and ominous. There was old furniture covered in white sheets, but some uncovered and as you stopped at a couch the first thing you thought of was that your aunt has a couch like this, both were very unattractive.

“Hey baby come check this out!” You jogged to where Beomgyu was standing holding a frame with an old looking photo inside it. It was a picture of the previous owners, or so you suspected, but your eyes caught something in the corner. “Look, you see that in the corner?”

You nodded, “I was actually just looking at that,” you took the photo from his hands, Beomgyu walking away from you to another room of the house, “What even is that?” You questioned as you moved the picture up and down, a face showing in the corner whenever you moved it up. “Creepy.” You said putting the frame back down. Turning around your eyes followed the flashlight as you moved it around the hall in search of your boyfriend.

“Beom? Babe?” Your feet seemed to carry you on their own to the direction where you last saw your boyfriend go as the floor creaked under them. Suddenly you turned towards the grand staircase after hearing a thump over there. You tried squinting your eyes to see better while you shined your light towards it. “Hello? Anyone there?”

You now understood the characters in horror movies more when you yourself started walking towards the sound to investigate it. A shiver ran down your spine at the gust of wind that seemed to pass you, carrying your hair with it, yet you saw no open windows anywhere. “Beom if this is you it is not fucking funny!”

”Careful.”

A scream fell past your lips at the voice whispering in your ear, then another scream but this time it was not one from you. You ran to the source of the scream you recognised as Beomgyu’s, getting into the room you desperately called his name, shining the light around the room in search of him. Walking over to what seemed like a cabinet you jumped with yet another scream as your boyfriend jumped out yelling, “BOO!”

You put your arm on your heart to steady it’s fast beating as your ass of a boyfriend laughed at your fear stricken face. “You complete idiot,” you hit his shoulder with the flashlight, “You could have given me a heart attack. You know how worried I got when I heard you scream?”

You were pulled into his arms, relaxing when you felt the warmth from him, “I’m sorry babygirl, but that was part of the bet.”

“Ugh I’m killing Yeonjun when we get back to the dorm.” Putting your head on his shoulder you started breathing normally again, scratching your arms. Taking your hand in his, he led the two of you out of the house and back to the dorm.

“So that thump on the stairs and the voice was you?” You questioned after a few minutes of silent walking.

He looked at you quizzically, “What are you talking about?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “The thump and voice saying ‘careful’, that was you right?”

He stared blankly at you, “Babe I waited in that room the entire time, I didn’t even walk out until you came in.”

You thought it through, if it wasn't you and it wasn’t Beom, then either you experienced a real paranormal activity or he’s teasing you to scare you more. Deciding on the latter option as the correct one you simply laughed and bumped his shoulder with yours.

The 25 minute walk passed quickly and soon you were back in the safety and warmth of TXT's dorm. After punching Yeonjun in both his shoulders, you decided to make some hot cocoa for yourself. Grabbing all the ingredients around the kitchen, and the mug from the cupboard, you started making the cocoa. Placing the mug on the counter you went on to heat up the milk.

Humming you waited for the milk to warm up so you could put the cocoa powder in, except you were cut off from the process by a loud bang which pulled a surprised little scream out of you. Looking towards the source of the bang you found the mug broken on the floor. Many footsteps came towards the direction of the kitchen to see what happened.

"(y/n) everything okay in here?" Soobin's voice spoke first while the rest looked at the mess in front of them. In an instant Beomgyu was next to you and helping you pick up the broken pieces.

You looked at Soobin giving him a short nod, "Yeah, I must've put the mug too close to the edge and it fell off." Throwing away the pieces you pick up another mug, this time keeping a hold on the handle. "Sorry for the mug everyone," you gave them a sheepish smile, scratching your arm.

"It's alright Noona, we have more mugs." Kai waved it off.

"Kai how many times have I told you that you don't have to call me that?"

"Enough for me to remember, but ignore." He laughed, walking to the living room with the others to continue watching the movie.

You felt a hand on your waist, turning to look towards the person you were met with Beomgyu's smile, "Are you sure you're okay?"

You gave him a smile of your own while nodding your head and a kiss on the cheek for good measures. The night continued on with you watching horror movies, you all finished the movies around midnight, opting on going to sleep as they had a packed schedule tomorrow, even if you tried convincing them they should go earlier.

You could’ve sworn the dreams you had were placed there to mess with you even more than you already had been through the night. Images of dark hallways that spun in circles, shadows following you and screams emanating from the end of the hallways were swimming in your dreams, pulling you from sleep.

Opening your eyes after not being able to fall asleep again for who knows how many minutes you slipped from your boyfriend’s arms, scratching your own and looking at his sleeping, peaceful form one more as you left the room to not wake him or any of the members up. Deciding to get a water bottle and turn on the TV to watch something, you got comfortable on the couch, watching until you got tired enough to fall asleep again.

As it seems God wasn’t on your side as you couldn’t even close your eyes without remembering your dream, flashes of the shadows and various other terrifying faces screaming in your face flashed through your eyes, ringing deep in your ears. You dropped the water bottle as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out, eyes tearing when none of it stopped, only getting louder. The ringing in your ears was too much, the high pitched screams that made your skin crawl pulled a choked sob from your throat.

As fast as it came it disappeared, leaving you shaking on the couch expecting the worst, expecting something to happen again but nothing did until you uncovered your ears, seeing red on your palms. With a shaking hand you brought it to your ears, feeling a wet spot and when you looked at your fingers you confirmed what you thought.

Rushing to the bathroom you grabbed a clean cloth, soaking it in water as you cleaned the blood that was dripping from your ears. Tears build up in your eyes once again, falling freely down your cheeks as you cried, in confusion, in fear.

Cleaning your ears and making sure they weren’t bleeding anymore you washed your face from tears and to wake you up more, there was no way you could sleep after what just happened and you weren’t even going to try. Drying your face with a towel you looked at yourself in the mirror only to see another face behind you.

Dark bangs covered its eyes but not enough to not see them, it didn’t even have any eyes! Only holed out sockets that were spilling a dark crimson blood from them, its mouth was pulled into a sinister smile showing off the razor sharp teeth that were hiding beneath.

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?” Its neck cracked painfully to the side, a bone sticking from it. You couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything except watch this thing in the mirror. Gathering some courage you glanced behind you only to be met with an empty space where the thing should have been standing. Confused you turned back to the mirror only to see the creature still standing there, still giving you the same sinister smile.

It started stalking towards you, you desperately looking behind yourself to catch it and back to the mirror as it was moving in closer. A hand was stretched out to you, boney long fingers with sharp nails coming through the mirror to scratch at your cheek.

“Stupid child, you should have never went into the house.” The voice terrified you beyond anything you've seen in horror movies, it opened its mouth, skin around it stretching and breaking until it was opened as large as your head. In one swift motion it clasped its teeth around your head as a scream finally reached from somewhere within you.

The guys woke up when they heard your screams, Beomgyu jumping from his bed to hurry to where you were and they found you on the floor of the bathroom, screaming, crying and thrashing around. Beomgyu was by your side trying to get you to calm down but you wouldn’t let him touch you, screaming whenever you felt a hand on your body. He watched with a heavy heart as you were forced to calm down on your own without being able to hold you close and console you himself.

“Baby are you okay?” Beomgyu asked worriedly.

You looked dead in his eyes before saying, “There was something in the mirror.” A chill went through all five boys, your voice so low and groggy from crying yet so serious at the same time.

Yeonjun’s voice caught your attention as you slowly moved your gaze to his, “What do you mean something was in the mirror? What was?”

You hang your head, your body starting to shake once again. All of them thought you started crying again, until they heard a low laughter coming from you.

Beomgyu grabbed you by your shoulders, “(y/n) baby are you okay?” But the laughter only grew louder.

“Stupid humans,” you jerked your head to look at them, dark crimson blood oozing from your eyes and a menacing smile on your lips, “she’s mine now.”

“Wh-what are you? Leave her alone!” Beom was screaming, tears falling from his eyes. He was shaking the thing’s shoulders because he refused to believe that was still his sweet girlfriend.

“You should watch what house you’re entering next time, Choi Beomgyu.”

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thetravelerwrites · 3 years

Text

Rupert and Sanoh (Lemon)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Kobold/Male Human, Female Half-Elf/Male Tielfling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Tiefling, Elf, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, Kobold, Half-Elf Content Warning: Sex, Rough Sex, Biting, Marking, Group Sex, Dom/Sub, Breath Play Words: 3349

A story with DuMont’s friends, Rupert and Sanoh! Rupert and Sanoh are having sexy fun in a bath when Kharis and DuMont enter the room. Not willing to stop, they try to be stealthy. It doesn't work. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

“Why do wererats always have to live in sewers?” Kharis grumped. “Every time we get contracted to kill rodents of any kind, I just know we’re going to have to go somewhere gross.”

Kharis, DuMont, Rupert, Sanoh, and Norman all pulled themselves out of the sewers of one of the larger towns west of the capitol. People had been going missing, and the mayor of the town realized that the rats in town were multiplying at an incredible rate, even with preventative measures. It was a clear indication that wererats were responsible.

“It wasn’t all that bad,” Sanoh said. “The humidity down there was good for my scales. They’re so itchy.”

“It may have been good for your scales, but it definitely wasn’t good for your clothes,” Kharis remarked. “That stink isn’t coming out. You might as well burn that shit.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sanoh said with a sigh. Her dancer’s outfit, which she always wore regardless of the situation, was torn and it’s bright red hue was now dark brown. “I really liked this one, too.”

Rupert seemed even more miserable that Kharis. “Can we please find a bathhouse? I haven’t been this filthy in years.”

“You’re one to talk, look at poor DuMont!” Kharis said, pointing at her giant lover. DuMont, the mountain of a tiefling that he was, was splattered head to toe in muck and grime and rat guts. His large church-bell bludgeon that he had slung over his shoulder was absolutely caked in blood and gore. “He’s not even complaining!”

“That’s because he doesn’t know how to complain,” Sanoh said. “He takes the phrase ‘roll with the punches’ far too literally.”

“Is that wrong?” DuMont asked, his cavernously deep voice echoing through the city streets, causing many who weren’t already staring at the group to spin in surprise.

“Of course not, love,” Kharis said, patting his arm as he walked on all fours. “I much prefer silent temperance to someone who does nothing but complain.” She looked pointedly at Rupert.

“Norman complains more than I do!” Rupert retorted.

“I haven’t said a word!” Norman protested. “Don’t pick on me because you’re a whiner.”

“Oh, my god, everyone shut up!” Sanoh said, rubbing her forehead. “There’s a bathhouse one block over, so will you all just please stop bitching.”

“I’m not bitching,” DuMont said in an undertone. “But I am hungry.”

“I’ll order you a rack of lamb and a sack of potatoes when we get to the inn, hon,” Kharis said. “Get cleaned up first. You don’t want to eat when you’re that dirty or you’ll get sick.”

“I’ve never been sick.” DuMont countered.

“Even still, you should be clean…er. And I don’t want you to drop pieces of food in the bath, either. It’ll feel like we’re all sitting in a stew.”

“You weirdos can sit in the stew, I’m getting a private bath,” Norman said.

“Why do you do that?” Rupert asked. “You always get your own instead of bathing with us, even though private baths are so much more expensive. It’s no wonder why you never have any money.”

“I’m not trying to get head by a paid companion in front of you lot,” He said sniffily.

“Suit yourself, but I bet that’d be fun to watch,” Kharis said playfully.

Norman snorted. “You would think that, you pervert.”

“You’ve become so shy since we started traveling, Norman,” Kharis said. “You used to be a nice, relatable pervert, just like the rest of us.”

“Maybe being with you people has made me see the error in my ways,” Norman remarked.

“Pssh, there isn’t anything wrong with being a pervert. Besides, I think DuMont balances me out. He can be such a prude sometimes.”

“I imagine being raised by a priest in a church will have that effect on a person,” Sanoh said.

“You are a pervert, Kharis,” DuMont said, as if in agreement with Norman.

“Does me being a pervert bother you?” Kharis asked him, grinning.

He looked at her and cocked his head as he walked, considering her, looking like a massively oversized dog, as he always did when thinking.

“No,” He said eventually.

“See? He likes it.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” He said. His face wasn’t built to smile, but Rupert thought he could hear laughter in his voice, and Rupert grinned.

“We would be the ones to pick brazen, sex-crazed women, wouldn’t be, big guy?” Rupert said, smacking DuMont’s broad shoulder in solidarity.

DuMont grunted in a way that could have been mistaken for a chuckle.

DuMont had been very taciturn since they had met him nearly a year ago, but his personality was slowly beginning to emerge as the five of them spent more time together on the road, doing jobs. Rupert was glad he finally felt comfortable enough with the group to try joking with them.

The bathhouse came into view shortly afterward. It catered to adventuring sorts, so it wasn’t necessarily a high-end place, and the five of them tended to frequent it often. The staff there barely batted an eye at DuMont anymore. The laundresses despised the sight of them, however, since they always arrived splattered with all manner of filth, much of which was hard to wash out.

“Hey, can we get the big tub, please?” Sanoh called out as soon as they entered the place. “We’ll pay extra to reserve the whole thing, though I doubt many people will want to come in after us.”

The woman at the front desk curled up her lip at them as they entered, but said, “Yes, of course. You’re usual packages?”

“Yes,” Norman said. “Private room for me, please. Do you have any companions available?”

“Derek is available.”

“Ugh, no, not him. What about Vincent?”

“Vincent is away visiting family. Connor?”

Norman nodded. “Connor will do. Just make sure he brings the right massage oils this time.”

“That costs extra,” The woman reminded him.

“I’m aware,” Normal said, starting toward the private baths.

“I’m beginning to think Norman is too fancy for us,” Sanoh said. “We can’t afford him.” She walked up to the counter. “Do you have any scale oil?”

“We don’t have any specifically for scales, but there are plenty for skin and hair.”

“Hmm…” Sanoh said. “Give me the hair oil, then. It tends to be thicker. What scents have you got?”

Kharis snorted. “Come on, let’s get these clothes off before they stick to us. She may be at this for a while.”

Dumont and Rupert followed her to one of the larger public baths, one with a door, and closed it behind them. Now that they had been together for a long time, they were less shy about bathing together as they had been. Even DuMont had stopped blushing when he saw them all nude in the same bath.

“Kharis, I’m hungry,” DuMont said insistently. The only time DuMont ever seemed to get grumpy was when he needed a meal.

“Let me at least scrub you down once and we’ll go get some food,” She told him, pushing him into the bath still wearing his loincloth. The robes and towels weren’t nearly large enough to cover him, so they just had taken to washing him in the bath, clothes and all. They usually did him first, drained the bath, and refilled it for the rest of them.

Once Rupert helped Kharis give DuMont a once over, getting him clean enough to go into the tavern, they left to get something to eat and Rupert and Sanoh waited for the tub to be refilled. When that was done, the fresh water was nice and hot, and Sanoh arrived with her purchased oils. They both stripped down and got in with a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, gods, this is nice,” Sanoh said.

“Mmm,” Rupert agreed. “I think this is the first time in a month that my shoulders have relaxed.”

“My scales were starting to get so brittle. Will you get my scale brush and scrub the oils into my back? I can feel them flaking.”

“Sure, just a second,” He said, getting out with a splash and grabbing her back. She had a special boars-hair brush she used to clean and sharpen her scales and horns. Her favorite thing in the world was laying out and letting him groom her tiny body all over. It often got her in a frisky mood.

Sure enough, after only scrubbing her back for fifteen minutes, she started to wiggle in his lap, rutting her hips backward into him. He began to harden immediately. Sanoh seemed to revel in getting him aroused in dangerously public places, but it always caused Rupert anxiety.

“What are you doing?” Rupert said. “Kharis and DuMont will be back any minute.”

“Then let’s be quick,” She said, looking back at him over her shoulder.

She lifted up in the water and slowly sank her swollen lips down onto him. He gripped her hips and groaned, his head falling back, trying to keep his voice down. There really was no arguing when she was in a mood like this. He began to thrust up into her, sloshing the water around them.

She laughed breathlessly. “Good boy.” She thrust back into him as he moved inside her. Before long, he picked her up and lay her over the side of the bath, slamming himself into her hard enough to make her thighs ripple. She began to moan loudly.

“Shh!” He hissed. “You’re going to get us thrown out.”

“But it feels so good,” She whimpered. “Norman has sex in the baths all the time, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t make me gag you,” He said, panting.

“You can try,” She said, laughing, before crying out against the tile. He put his hand over her mouth, but she bit him. He let go, inspecting his hand, and when he found she hadn’t broken the skin, he instead grabbed her throat, squeezing.

“Oh, fuck,” She wheezed, her eyes going glassy. As bossy as she was, she loved it when he was rough and took charge.

“Shut up!” He snarled in her ear. “You started it. Be quiet and take it.”

“I will,” She simpered, and he squeezed harder.

“I said, shut up!” He slammed hard into her, and she squeaked against his grip on her neck, her body trembling in excitement. She came suddenly, gushing down her legs, but he didn’t relent, crushing his body against hers, breathing down her neck and spine, moving at a frenzied pace.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” He said through his gritted teeth. “Stand still, don’t fucking move.”

Before he got the chance, however, he heard the far door open and Kharis’s voice drift through.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, pulling out suddenly and ducking under the water to hide himself. His cock was throbbing with the unfulfilled promise of climax, but there was little he could do about it now. He was just going to have to sit there and suffer in silence.

Until Sanoh sat back down onto him, spearing him inside her, her inner walls still quivering from the orgasm.

“Now what are you doing?!” He asked frantically.

“Just act natural,” She replied in an undertone.

“They’re going to know!”

“Not if you don’t make a big deal about it! Lay your head back and pretend you’re sleeping!

“Sanoh!”

“Just do it!”

Rupert lay his head back against the tile on the edge of the bath with Sanoh in his lap just as Kharis and DuMont re-entered the bathing area, stripping down to join them.

“Well, DuMont cleaned out the tavern, so if you want food, you’re going to have to find a vendor somewhere,” Kharis said.

“Not surprising,” Sanoh said, stealthily riding Rupert’s cock under the water, pretending to be washing her arms to cover the movement.

“What’s with him?” Kharis asked, nodding at Rupert.

“He conked out almost immediately after you left. I’m just keeping his lap warm,” She said smoothly.

Kharis snorted and said, “I wish I could fall asleep as easily as he can. DuMont’s like that too,” She reclined on the large red tiefling. “He can fall asleep mid-sentence.”

“A gift and a curse,” Sanoh said in agreement. She squeezed Rupert’s length with her inner muscles, and it took all his effort not to grunt or move. He dug his fingers into the skin of her hips as a warning. Sanoh snorted. She moved under the pretense of adjusting herself and nearly made Rupert jump out of his skin with how deep she’d push him into her. He couldn’t help but make a small sound.

Kharis noticed. “What are you doing?” She asked Sanoh, her eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about?” Sanoh asked innocently.

Kharis gave Sanoh a sardonic look. “You don’t have to pretend to be asleep anymore, Rupert, I know what’s going on. I’m a pervert, after all.”

Rupert sighed and lifted his head. “The jig is up, I guess. Sanoh, hop off.”

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” Kharis said. “Far be it from me to interrupt your fun.”

“What about DuMont?” Rupert asked skeptically.

“What about him?” Kharis replied, reaching over in the water and placing her hand in DuMont’s lap.

“Wha…” DuMont said, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Having fun,” Kharis said. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“But…” He looked at Sanoh and Rupert.

“They’re already having fun,” Kharis said. “They started before us.”

“They are?” DuMont asked in surprise, squinting at the pair.

As if to answer, Sanoh let Rupert’s organ fall out of her and spun in Rupert’s lap. Now that she didn’t have to worry about stealthing, she rocked on him and moaned.

“Oh,” DuMont replied, and then sucked in his breath when Kharis squeezed him.

“Are you okay with this, buddy?” Rupert asked over Sanoh’s shoulder, though he was beginning to lose speech. “We’ll stop if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sanoh said with a snort.

“We’ll stop if you aren’t comfortable, DuMont,” Rupert repeated, giving Sanoh a warning look. Sanoh rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” DuMont replied, playing with Kharis’s hair and she fondled him under the water.

“See? He’s fine, don’t be such a baby,” Sanoh said, pushing him into her deeper. He grunted and stopped speaking.

Kharis held her breath and ducked her head under water, and DuMont tensed and groaned, his hands balling into fists on the side of the tub. From then on, there was little talk, just moans, grunts, groans, and breathy whimpering.

Kharis came up and went to the edge of the bath, bending over and presenting her rear. DuMont followed her and knelt down, pressing his cock into her and thrusting in hard, pushing her forward and down onto the tile. She laughed breathlessly.

“That looks like fun,” Sanoh said, going over to bend over next to Kharis, wiggling her butt at Rupert and moving her tail out of the way, so he could see her dripping between her legs. Rupert followed DuMont and rammed back into her, thrusting fast and hard.

“Wanna see something really fun?” Sanoh said to Kharis. Kharis nodded, and Sanoh leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.

The reaction was instantaneous. Rupert grabbed Sanoh by the throat again and pulled her up against his body.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, his voice hard and angry. He sped up, fucking her roughly as he held her in place. “You belong to me. Don’t you dare do that again without my permission.”

Sanoh’s face went slack and she nodded, whimpering, completely at his mercy.

DuMont’s reaction was also immediate. He grabbed Kharis up and vaulted out of the bath, throwing her to the floor. He pinned down her arms and legs and put his face inches from hers. He didn’t say anything, but a low, guttural snarl issued from his throat, his brows furrowed as he stared at her with the intensity of a predator looking at prey.

“What’s the matter, big guy?” She said with a grin. “Are you jealous?”

“Mine,” He growled lowly, almost indistinguishable from the threatening, thunderous rumble of his voice.

“Prove it,” She challenged.

He opened his mouth and sank his front canine teeth into her shoulder, drawing blood. He thrust himself back into her without letting go, his jaws locked, and he lifted her off the ground and just railed her.

There was no hope of keeping their voices down now. If they got kicked out, they got kicked out. Sanoh and Kharis screamed, shouted, howled, and swore in pleasure as their lovers used their bodies to climax.

At some point, there was a knock on the door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Go away!” Sanoh and Kharis shouted in unison.

Kharis and Sanoh came several times before the boys were done with them. While Kharis had as much stamina as DuMont did and was just as active, at some point Sanoh’s legs gave out and she simply lay there on the floor in a perpetual orgasm trance as Rupert pumped her full of his warmth and kept going like a machine, finally collapsing on top of her, breathing as if he’d run five miles in a minute.

DuMont was the last to reach his peak, gushing into Kharis, his seed pooching her stomach and dripping out of her, down his legs, and splattering onto the floor. For a solid minute, the room was quiet, safe for a lot of heavy breathing.

Finally, as they all caught their breath, the re-entered the bath to wash each other.

“Kharis, you’re bleeding,” Sanoh said, pointing. There was a very large bite in her shoulder, and it was rather deep.

“Oh,” DuMont said, flustered by worry. “I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, big guy,” She reassured him. “I wanted you to do it. It’s proof.”

“Proof?” He echoed, his brow furrowed.

“That I belong to you,” She said simply. “Help me wash it.”

As rough as DuMont had been, his gentleness in tending the wound was a mirror opposite. Rupert and Sanoh sat cuddled together and watched fondly as DuMont lovingly treated and bandaged Kharis’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, DuMont,” Rupert said. “Sanoh marked me, too.” He turned and showed DuMont a bite on his left shoulder blade. “And Sanoh’s bites can be venomous. I was sick for a week.”

“I said I was sorry,” She said reproachfully. “It was the heat of the moment, I couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He said, hugging her in close and kissing her forehead.

“Does it hurt?” DuMont asked Kharis.

“Not really,” She said. “I’m sure it will tomorrow when the sex high has worn off, but I feel great right now. And it’ll scar up nicely, I think.”

“I’m sorry!” DuMont said, hiding his face.

“Honey, it’s okay!” She said, pulling his hands down. “I like it! It lets everyone who sees it know that I’m yours. Don’t you want people to know that you and I are in love?”

“Well… yes…” He said, frowning.

“There, see? It’s all fine.” She went up and hugged his neck. “Don’t fuss so much. I’m fine.”

He pulled her back and fixed her with a glare. “No kissing other people.”

She grinned at him. “I won’t, I promise. It was just an experiment.” She winked at Sanoh, who stuck her tongue between her teeth as she smirked. “And I’d say it was successful.”

DuMont grumbled. “I didn’t like it.”

She patted his face and kissed his exposed jaw. “I won’t do it again.”

“Okay,” He said, seemingly satisfied, and he pulled her into an embrace, careful of her shoulder.

The wound healed up really quickly, and Kharis took to wearing asymmetrical shirts, so that she could show it off. Most assumed that it was a grievous injury from a wild beast, and Kharis would laugh and say that was partly right.

Sanoh and Rupert didn’t engage in sex around the two of them again, but it was definitely something they kept in the back of their mind. For a rainy day, maybe.

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#D&D Fanfiction #Tiefling #Kobold #Half-Elf

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years

Text

Damsel In Distress

Requested: Can I request 15 from the Angst list with Tommy please? She gets hurt at the betting ship by one of his enemy’s and tries to hide it. Love your Fics!

10 from fluff and 15&18 from angst pleaseee i love your writing

hi! firstly, i absolutely adore your writing! may I please request angst prompts #15 and #18? perhaps the reader being a shelby herself? but either way, I’d accept whatever you seem comfortable with! thank you

Requested by Anonymous & @casualcolorstarfish

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: language, alcohol, violence

A/n: This is based off the episode in season one when the Lees attack the betting shop. It’s not word for word with what everyone said because I’m lazy and didn’t want to go back and watch it. I hope you guys like it because I kinda just wrote this as things came to me so it might not make much sense.

Masterlist

“What the bloody hell happened here?” Tommy’s voice boomed through the betting shop that looked as if a bull had been let loose in it. Paper strewn across the floor, tables, and desks turned over. If John hadn’t called his fucking meeting, none of this would have happened.

The poor employee, who had been left to deal with the mess, grumbled, “The Lees, all of them. Cousins, nephews. Even the bastards.” He rubbed his right temple where a club had left a large goose egg. “They’ve taken anything they can lay their hands on. Four cash boxes.”

Polly turned over a metal bin with the end of her shoe. This is what they got for everything they’d done. It wasn’t right, no, but it seemed to be fair. Revenge comes to those who double-cross, lie, steal, and kill there way to the top.

“They left these,” the man groaned, getting up from where he sat and handed over a pair of cutters that he’d found under a table.

“Wire cutters?” Polly raised a brow as Tommy examed them. “Why would they leave wire cutters?”

Gears clicked into place in her nephew’s mind. “Nobody move.” Fear and panic washed over his face. “I think our friends are playing the game.”

“What game?” Polly, sighed, going to run a finger along a toppled over desk.

“Pol, don’t,” Thomas warned. She brought her hand back to her side at his words. “Don’t touch anything.” He surveyed the room, the war flashing before him in bright colors. They were playing war games now. “Erasmus Lee was in France.”

“Shit.”

“When we gave up ground to the Germans, we’d leave behind booby traps set up with wires,” Tommy stated, remembering a time he helped his comrades leave a booby trap. “Then we’d leave wire cutters. It’s part of the joke,” he let out an angry laugh. “Somewhere in here, there’s a hand grenade.”

“Holy Jesus,” Polly muttered, the shit her nephews got her into.

“Attached to a wire,” he continued. “Don’t move any chairs. Or open any doors.”

While the Shelbys were searching for the grenade, Y/n was halfway home. Stumbling as little as possible, she held her coat tight against her and her hat as low as it could be without falling off. She looked like she’d been through hell, a black bruise on her cheek, a cut under one eye, blood trickling down her leg from a cut she’d earned on a glass. All over, she was covered in black and blue bruises, but that wasn’t going to stop her from reaching the safety of her family’s home.

She had been sitting in the kitchen when the Lees entered the shop, as quiet as a mouse. No one would have known they were there until all hell broke loose. Chairs were smashed, tables turned over, and then they entered the kitchen.

Y/n wasn’t even supposed to be at the shop. She was supposed to go shopping with her sister, but that got canceled and so Y/n decided to drop by and see Tommy. When she realized he wasn’t there, she took a seat at the kitchen table, deciding to wait for his return.

That was a mistake.

One of the Lees, grabbed her after she’d jumped from the table in shock. Pulling her hair, he thought he could get his way with her, but her father didn’t raise no damsel in distress. Y/n was a fighter, coming from a family of boxers, she knew how to through a punch. More than that, adrenaline was pumping like a freight train through her bloodstream, screaming at her to fight.

With her attacker’s arms wrapped around her waist, she reached for a pot on the stove, her fingers grazing over it enough to bring it closer. Fingers wrapped around the handled, she swung at her attacker, hitting him in the head. He toppled to the ground, but he was quickly replaced with another. And when she thought she had the situation under control, another one appeared behind the new one, more behind that one. The Lees clearly had a problem with a woman standing over a man, victorious. And so, she did her best to fight them off, leaving the kitchen a mess.

When they left, Y/n was surrounded by broken glass, bloodied pots, and toppled furniture. Her head was throbbing from where it had been forced into the table by one of the men and all she wanted to do was fall into her mother’s soft arms. She should have stayed to help clean up the mess, but that was all too much for her to process. So, grabbing her hat and coat, Y/n exited the same way she had entered, pretending as if nothing had happened.

Now, nearly home, she believed she’d made the right decision. Tommy would have been furious if he’d found her covered in blood. He kicked himself for letting it happen, but she knew, he would also be angry that she didn’t go home when she couldn’t find him. And then, when he had calmed down a little, she knew he would want nothing but blood from those who thought they could destroy him. Y/n didn’t want that. There had been enough bloodshed, there needed to be peace. But that wouldn’t happen if she’ stuck around.

Thomas Shelby would burn down the world for her.

It was no secret how he felt for her. The burning love that coated everything he touched. There wasn’t a second he wasn’t thinking of her and a moment he wouldn’t do anything for her. It was dangerous, how much he loved her. Y/n wasn’t willing to let that destroy him, not when it could be prevented.

“What happened?” her father’s words were rushed, lifting her chin to get a better look at her face. “Don’t tell me Thomas did this. I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘im!”

Y/n shook her head, wincing when a damp washcloth was pressed onto a cut on her arm. “No, dad. Tommy didn’t do this,” she muttered, taking the cloth from her mother. Trained in nursing, her mother was nurturing and gentle when it came to patching up anyone but her children. Her touches were rough like sandpaper, likely because her kids always tried to worm away from her. “Mum, stop.”

He swore under his breath and went over to the cabinet that held the family’s liquor collected. A large bottle of bourbon was placed on the table, next to his daughter, along with a couple of glass. “If it wasn’t him then who was it?” He questioned while filling the glasses.

“The Lees.”

“Fucking gypsies,” he spat as he shoved a glass of bourbon in Y/n’s hand. “Drink this.”

“Jack!” Her mother scolded him. “We are no better them. Don’t you dare go using their heritage against them.”

Jack grumbled, deciding to take a drink from the glass in front of him than answer. She wasn’t wrong, though. Y/n’s family were considered to be French gypsies with how they lived when they were in their homeland. Both sides born and raised in France, the French people didn’t care, those in the cities, that is. They saw them as dirt and nothing more. People like her family, though the backbone of the country, weren’t wanted where there was work, and many families were forced to move. That’s how her family had ended up in Birmingham.

Finishing off her glass, Y/n placed in front of her just as her mother pulled out a needle and thread. She grabbed the neck of the liquor bottle, pouring the liquid in her glass until the amber liquid spilled over the rim. “Doesn’t matter who did what. I’m not dead, there’s no need for much fuss.”

A few days had passed, but Y/n didn’t feel much better. Body sore and mind cloudy, her mother gave her two options, stay home with her or go with her father while he trained boxers. She chose the latter as it would be more entertaining. If she’d stayed home, she was sure her place would be in the kitchen, mixing a bowl of cake mix. As much as she wanted to enjoy the sweets her mother baked, she didn’t want to help make them.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, holding a newspaper out in front of her, trying to drown out the noise of two men lunging at each other. As entertaining as boxing was, she’d grown up watching it and could think of a hundred other sports that captured her interest more than that.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.”

He found her. She decided not to give him much of a reaction. All she wanted was for him to leave, never seeing her face. Y/n wasn’t sure if she would be able to stand the look on his face when he found out what he caused. “Perhaps people should think of visiting me more, instead of it being the other way around.”

The sound of foot stops hit her ears as he approached her. Against her better judgment, her eyes flickered up, meeting his. Are you hurt?” Voice full of an odd combination of anger and love.

“No.” Y/n glanced back down at her paper.

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?” he questioned sternly, removing the paper from her hands. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing, Tommy. Don’t worry about it.” She stood from her seat, moving past him to go stand next to her father. Tommy was too smart, she knew, to start something in her father’s presence. But she didn’t get the chance to get far when a hand caught her wrist and pulled her against his chest. “Hey!”

“Would you tell me what happened?”

A huff escaped her, giving in once she saw the concern in his eyes. “I was at the betting shop the other day-”

“When the Lees attacked,” he finished his sentence, running a hand down his face. That was the last thing he wanted to happen. “Those fucking bastards! You should have told me!” Y/n rolled her eyes, something the man caught. “What was that for?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you to begin with.”

Tommy was a loss of words once he heard that. He thought that she hadn’t told him because she didn’t trust him or because it was his fault that she was stuck in the middle of all this. But no, it was his anger. Letting out a breath, he did his best to calm down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. “Should’ve taken you with me.”

“Why didn’t you?” Her voice was muffled by his overcoat.

He laughed. “John called a fucking family meeting about marrying a whore.”

“Oh.” The Shelby family meetings were sacred things. Y/n had never been permitted at one but if they were all over matters as such, she doubted she ever wanted to attend.

“You’ll be at the next one.”

Y/n pulled away enough to see his face. “Why’s that, Mr. Shelby?”

Tommy leaned down to capture her lips with his. “Because you’ll be Mrs. Shelby by the next meeting.”

There was silence as her cheeks turned red. The couple had talked about marriage a handful of times, but they had both decided it wasn’t the right time. Tommy wanted to get the family business in order and his demons under control. Y/n had to figure out how to keep her family from killing each other as each of her brother’s had different ideas about what to do with the family’s boxing ring. But those… the could figure them out together.

“Are you… blushing?” Tommy gave her a cheeky grin.

“Oh, stop it.” She hit him playfully before giving him a quick kiss. “You know, you’ll probably have to get in the ring-” She tilted her head over to the ring behind him. “-to win my hand.”

He smiled. “I would do anything to be able to marry you.”

*~~*~~*~~*

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xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years

Text

Young God-Part 1

Summary: Your power isn't even a power its simply words. You can understand people, get into their head and know them better than anyone all willingly on their end. This made you useful to the avengers when villains came and you could understand and fix them. When this is asked to be done to loki you cant help but fall for the god the more you get to know him.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: Swearing, Loki being loki,angst

Notes: Ok lemme just start of saying loki isn't going to be...nice in the beginning of this i got the idea off of joker and harley quinn's relationship and slightly silence of the lambs so do with that what you will now i adore loki so he won't be a dick the whole time just yea someone getting into loki's head? he isn't too chill with that.

You walked down the stairs leading to the dungeon where the god was locked away ready for you to speak to. you heard the mocking laughs and sarcastic remarks made as you passed the cells.” “hey mortal lemme get a taste” he said thrust to you. you flipped him off not looking at him and passing on by. seeing the god laying on the couch reading a book you walked through the boundaries placed stepping before him. Odin had given you a pill, said it would allow you past the wall of an hour and only you. “hello” he said reading his book still. “apologies for my fellow inmates they can be quiet rude” he said with a small smirk.

“ironic coming from a man with the nickname silver tongue” you said sitting down on a chair in front of him. he placed down his book “oh doll there's more to that nickname” he said with a wink. you simply rolled your eyes in response. you had been told loki was like this. “anyways why are you here” he asked sitting up turning to you “did odin send you to make sure im behaving?” he asked with a snarky tone

You made a mental note of his hatred for odin, though from your interactions with the man you slightly understood that. “i'm here to speak to you” is all you said. loki scoffed “you doll are a horrible liar” he said with a smirk. He stood up and walked around you almost scanning you. “what's the real reason your here?” he asked behind you. “truly i am here to talk to you” you repeated with a straight face and shrug. “then talk” he said bending down right in front of your face. his breath ghosting over your face and his long wavy hair falling in his face. “your a god you live for years on end tell me loki, how old are you?” you asked. loki gave a smile before standing “my age? that's what you came for?” he huffed. “ill answer your questions if you answer mine” he said in return

you turned around facing him “i don't answer questions” you said with a shrug “oh come on doctor i know your other patients didn't just comply with your questioning” he said with a smirk. he was always smiling or smirking, never a true smile something to show planning, no not planning, anger? no not anger. hurt? yes thats it hes hurt and hides it with his devilish smile. to throw you off to push you away. make you fear him over wanting to know him.

Now the new question was how did he know you were a doctor. well you may not be an official doctor but you were one of sorts. You had been in college to get a phycology degree until fury swept you up making you work for him. you tilted your head alarming the god you were lost on his accusation. “oh dear as you said i am a god you don't think i could fall for your tricks and lies like the others did you?” he asked walking to you “doll only i make the tricks here” he said holding your jaw. “now we play by my rules” he said with another smile. “stop” you said. his smile widened “stop smiling” you said. you saw a hint of confusion wash over before it was erased with another smirk “why doll?” he asked. “because its a lie” you said. loki's face became serious “you talk of lies yet you wouldn't tell me why your here” he said walking around the room.

“Fine i'm here to evaluate you” you said simply “now will you answer my questions?” you asked. “I have been just not the ones you want the answer to.” he replied. “agree to my terms and ill be more than willing to answer you” he said with a sarcastic smile “i ask the questions not you” you replied. he shrugged laying back down reading his book again. you only had an hour with him so you had no choice but to comply with his rules or you'll get nowhere but you also didn't want the god to think he could just boss you around and throw a fit.

you shrugged picking up your bag walking out of the room. “1,054″ you said blankly. you turned confused “my age” he said still reading. you nodded walking back in “one question” you said sitting down. he smirked still looking at the book but not reading it “well start simple. name?” he asked. “y/n” you replied. “y/n....mmm now y/n why are you here?” he asked sitting up. “to evalu-” you started to say before he cut you off “why are you here?” he asked “were not doing this loki i said one question” you said standing back up. your hour was almost over. “what happened doctor don't like a taste of your own medicine?” he asked with a dark smile. “why do you do that? smile so much?” you asked. “you tell me you said it was a lie which means you've made your own deductions of it so tell me doc why do i smile so much?” he asked tilting his head.

“to make people uncomfortable. they see you smile this mischievous smile a smile that they expect from the god of mischief. you become what people expect of you so they stay away now why you push people you don't know away i'm not quiet sure on but i assume it has something to do with your spite for odin” you said simply. loki gave a wide smile standing up “well well well doc, you are utterly” he said behind you getting close to your ear “wrong” he said simply straightening backup. “now you well i do have so many things to say about you” he said moving in front of you. “you evaluate people thinking you know everything about them so much more than they know themself, from body language to words to the crime they commited. but i my dear am simply a king who deserved a throne and would fight for it” he said sitting back down “hours up doll better leave before your trapped in here” he said looking at you with another smile.

Walking back up you felt unnerved. the god had a weird aura to him like he could read your mind. granted he may actually be able to in which case you need to be more careful about such things. you walked to your room feeling empty and drained. you fell back on the bed rubbing your face. the odinsons had given you your own quarters while you stayed there. there was knock on the door and you groaned “its open” you replied and the door opened revealing yet another god, a kinder one. Thor walked over sitting next to you “how was loki?” he asked. “loki was....exactly how yall described him” you sighed. thor griminced he hoped his brother would behave “did you get anything out of him?” he asked. “just his age which is useless it was more a test to see if he'd comply with me. think he got more out of me than i of him” you said looking up at thor.

“give him time. my brother can be...difficult but your a legend at this so you should do well it may take longer than usual but you'll get it” thor said cheerfully. you gave a small smile. you wanted to believe that you truly did but honestly you weren't sure. “loki sure is a strange guy” you said sitting up “Well he's not a guy hes a god such as i and he was raised by my mother” he said to you.

“get some rest i bet you'll do much better tomorrow” he said with a smile walking out. you sighed and changed, laying bed you felt sleep take over.

you stood in a black room seeing your parents smiling faces “mom? dad? you said with a smile. you started to run to them before blood dripped from there eyes and they slowly faded away. you stepped back feeling empty once again. you heard a chuckle and turned seeing loki laugh and roll his eyes before vanishing too

You awoke with a small scream and your heart racing. you were drenched in sweat and tears streamed down your face. once you calmed you growled launching up from bed and walking down to the dungeon storming past the assholes shouting crude things at you. you stood at loki's cell banging on the wall “hey asshole” you said blatantly. “well hello to you too doll isnt this a shocker” he said with another smile god how you wanted to slap that smile off his face “shut up” you said. loki sat up looking at you “well what can i do for you?” he asked. “your not supposed to have you powers in here” you said with a stern face

loki tilted his head in mock confusion “why i don't” he said voice dripping in sarcastic hurt as if offended by such accusations. “don't lie you bastard! You were in my head i know it you know it so let's just both know it” you yelled at him. His smile widened “ok darling but see i do have one question left unanswered. how did your parents die?” he asked stepping to the glass. “they didn't it was simply a nightmare” you groaned.

“no no see people who dream of the death unprompted feel pain,sadness,fear they try to stop it you well you felt nothing you just...stood there” he said looking down at you. “so how was it they died?” he asked. “if you can get in my head then you sure as shit know” you said looking down at the floor. you really did not want to speak of it.

“of course i do doll but i want to hear you say it” he said leaning on the glass. “i will not play into your game” you said storming off “you still hear it dont you? their screams” he said. “i do” he said after

you turned “pardon?” you asked walking back to him. “have a nice night darling” he said smiling walking back to his couch. “but you said-” you were cut off by the sounds of footsteps “oi you are not to be down here madam” the man said walking to you “oh yes sorry i must have sleep walked” you replied walking upstairs back to your bed.

laying down your head felt as if it was spinning. This was going to be an interesting roller coaster wasn't it.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #MCU #MCU fanfiction #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #tom hiddleston

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Text

Ao3 prompt by strwbrystars : my first is to do another chapter focusing on jake protecting amy in a similar situation as the closet one in this chapter pre-relationship or established.

This turned surprisingly long...

(thanks to @dolston17 for the mafioso names :D)

They’ve made all the wrong decisions right from the start, Amy thinks later, as she’s trying not to hyperventilate, with Jake’s breathing next to her not much slower than her own.

Well, maybe not the very first decision. When the radio crackled on in Jake’s car, asking for an EMT and back up for two beat cops a block down from them, there really was no other option but to turn and drive down to join them. But once they did find them, every decision made after that came straight from the ‘What Not To Do’ part of her training manuals.

_+_

Officer Rogers was sitting on the ground with his back to a wall, his partner Carols squatting in front of him, and he was obviously injured. Amy noticed the trail of blood leading back into the building behind them as they ran up towards the beat cops.

“Two guys. Possibly gang-related. They were fighting over a drug delivery or sale, we’re not sure, and we tried to separate them and question them when the taller guy pulled out a knife and went for Rogers.” Carols informs them straight away while putting pressure on the large wound in his partner’s thigh. “In the fight the other one, probably Italian background, short and stout, managed to unclip my gun - he must’ve known how to work a holster - god, this so - unprofessional, I’m sorry -”

“S’all good.” Jake interrupts him, and Amy wants to interject that no, it’s obviously not good if a criminal manages to take a gun away from a uniformed officer, but the short relief washing over the young, newly instated beat cop at hearing a detective calm him stops her. “Any more info?”

“They ran deeper into this building. We’ve patrolled it before - this is the only exit, so they must still be holeing up inside. They probably thought I was going to follow them, but I carried Rogers out instead so we could radio-”

“Yes, that was absolutely the right decision.” Amy joins in to support him, and it works maybe half as good as Jake’s casual reaction had before. She squats down too, to inspect the wound that Carols is pressing his jacket onto. “The EMTs are on their way, and this doesn’t look like too deep a cut for any lasting damage, even if it hurts like hell, I’d guess. Good, quick reactions, from both of you.”

“Thank you, detective.” is the first thing Rogers says, but Amy barely hears him when she looks up at Jake. He’s staring straight into the building doors, and she definitely, absolutely doesn’t like the look on his face.

“Jake-” She says with both a questioning and warning tone to her voice.

“This is Mancini territory.” He says out of the blue, and she can see his deducting brain working. “If it’s drug-related, and the other guy looked Italian, must be… Chiellini.”

“Chiellini, like Mafia boss Chiellini?!” Carols asks with shock in his voice, and Rogers hisses as he lets the pressure on his wound go for a second. Amy can’t fault him for that moment of surprise.

Roberto Chiellini, one of the two guys Jake’s undercover sting with the Ianuccis hadn’t been able to pin to any crimes, had quickly worked to establish himself as the new family leader of some Brooklyn areas, focussing on heavy drug trafficking for easy profits. They’d had more and more cases and minor arrests coming across their desks lately that mentioned his name in hushed tones, but had still been unable to actually go after him for any of it. Amy knows it’s been costing Jake sleep, but she still hates to see the conclusion he seems to be coming to right now.

“Jake, even if it is, that goon is way to low-level to have any useful info-”

“Stealing a government-issued gun, and assaulting a police officer? We’d have some leverage-”

“We’ll have absolutely nothing if he decides to use that gun-”

Right at that moment, the sound of a gunshot rips through the air, as if she’d predicted it, and silence falls around them for barely a second before Jake unholsters his own gun and starts moving.

“I’m going in there.”

“Jake you are not- Jake- JAKE!”

_+_

She ran after him, of course. He was her partner - she had to be his backup. Backup that could hopefully talk him out of this entirely once she caught up, but still backup. Most of all, though, he was her partner - running gun-first into what was clearly unnecessary danger. She’d be an absolute fool not to go after him.

Even if it did go against the manual.

(She realised a lot of things she was willing to do for Jake went against any manual she’d ever read, but maybe it was too early in their relationship to admit that, even to herself.)

But she has no time to talk some sense into him, or scold him, or really say anything when she rounds the corner of the hallway he’d stopped behind with his gun up, freezing in point for the scenery before her - the ‘tall man’ Carols had described splayed on the floor, with about 70% of his brain blown all over the concrete behind him, the ‘stout Italian’ standing over him with Carol’s gun still smoking from the shot.

Jake’s hands in her periphery, holding his own gun straight up at him. Jake’s hands, shaking.

“Drop the gun, Riva.”

Gianluigi Riva, Amy’s brain supplies even in her frozen state. The other one of the two men that walked free after the Ianucci wedding. The one that very definitely could’ve been arrested for various things after, if he hadn’t been so perfectly elusive.

The one Jake had a picture of stuck to his computer screen at work ever since he came back from that undercover mission.

“Jakey the Jew.” she hears through her freeze in the most hateful, spite-dripping voice she’s ever heard. “Or should that be Detective Peralta, I guess?”

“Drop. The gun. Riva.” Jake repeats through gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t you love that.”

She thinks she sees Jake’s finger actually move for the trigger, but that is before Riva’s attention turns towards her , and suddenly all bets are off. And Riva’s gun is on her.

“That your little bitch, Jakey? The one you whined about?”

“I’m not playing this game. Drop your gun.”

“What a shame if she got caught in the crossfires on your mission, huh?”

“One last warning-”

“Get fucked, pig.”

And then, one strong, big hand against her shoulder, pushing her backwards with force before another gunshot sound.

Another hand, pulling her up, pulling her forward, running, dodging, running, slamming into a wall as they round corners, more gunshots behind them, and shouting, curses, screaming, rage-

They dodge around several more corners as the noises trail further and further behind them, Jake running at a speed she didn’t think he was capable of and pulling her along. There’s a barely visible door she notices before him, and uses her full body weight to drag him towards, opening and slamming it closed behind them so quickly she can only hope that even if Riva had followed them close enough, he didn’t see it.

And then complete silence falls over them in the dark room they find themselves in, safe for their ragged, exhausted breathing. Amy can feel her pulse pumping in her ears, even as Jake nexts to her drops against the wall and slides down, not fully hitting the ground with a quiet ‘Fuck’.

“What the hell, Jake?!” Is the first thing she manages to whisper-shout through the heaving, and maybe she should pick her words more carefully right now.

“Riva.”

“Yeah, I know, but-”

“Ianucci’s torture guy.”

And that certainly shuts up whatever angry rant has been bubbling up in Amy’s throat about following procedure and not running in eyes closed, head first like he always does.

She knows barely anything about Jake’s time undercover, safe for the ‘funny’ stories he’s been willing to share at Shaw’s. Even now, as his girlfriend, there seem to be walls around the subject - for obvious reasons, if she thinks about the many little scars and marks on his skin that her fingers keep trailing over. Some that make his breath hitch when she kisses them. Some that he pulls her hands away from almost on instinct.

“Fuck.” She simply echoes him, and he nods before pressing the back of his hand to his lips, trying to keep from being sick - whether from the unbelievable running they’ve just gone through that is still wrecking his body, or from memories that Riva dredged up, she’s not sure.

She turns to inspect the too dark room instead, trying to gather her bearings as best as she can before her brain can switch into panic mode completely. It’s not as small as other places she’s had to hide in, luckily, so her claustrophobia is yet to rear its ugly head, but it’s not exactly spacious either. She can’t make out much that could be of help, a few shelves that have seen better days, an empty barrel or two in the far corner. A lot of darkness. She can’t exactly retrace their steps through the building, but they must have ended up in a half-basement level, the only light coming from a small set of windows a few metres up the wall.

“Okay.” She manages to level her voice to a normal whisper. “Carols and Rogers must have heard the shots. They definitely called in more back up. All we need to do is stay hidden and wait-”

“They don’t know it’s him. They won’t send much backup.”

“They know two detectives went into a building with an armed criminal and did not come out yet so yes, they will send heavy backup, Jake.”

His voice is still muffled through his hand near his mouth, strained but for something else.

“He was gonna shoot you.”

She doesn’t have much to say to that.

“Because of me.”

She has even less to say to that. Yes, is pretty much all she can think of. Yes, because you ran into a building without backup, without a vest on, without so much as a plan. Yes, because you didn’t think . But given the wavering of his voice, the way he’s still breathing like they’d only just stopped running, the way she could see his hands shake even in the darkness, she’s not going to say any of that, ever. There’s something else on her mind, anyway.

“He recognised me?” She asks as she sinks down to Jake’s level, squat-sitting against the wall. The one you whined about is stuck in her memory, but Jake only shakes his head before dropping it to stare at the ground.

“They- the guys- they kept pushing me to gossip and trash talk about the ‘pigs I left behind’.” He coughs as quietly as he can, and she tenses for a moment trying to listen to any sounds from outside of their room. “I tried with the others but- I just couldn’t say anything bad about you.”

Her hand finds its way into his hair, sweat-sticky on his forehead.

“They picked up on that and kept teasing me about it. Then they started finding hook-ups for me to ‘forget’. I think I got too drunk once and told them to fuck off, or something.”

She scratches over his scalp down to his ear, rubs a soothing circle into his cheek as best as she can.

“I know it was stupid and I put you in danger and we weren’t even- you were with Teddy and I-”

“Hey.” She drops her hand to his upper arm and squeezes for support, wants to say something calming before he spirals, but is met with a quiet hiss and - a wet patch on her hand, the feeling of ripped fabric and skin and blood.

“You were hit?!” She gasps before easing the pressure she was unwittingly putting on his wound.

“Grazed. It’s okay.”

“It’s not, it-it’s-” Her fingers are shaking as she pats around her suit to find something to wrap around his arm to stop the bleeding and comes up empty until she shrugs off her jacket. She won’t ever get the stain out of the light fabric, she thinks for a second as she bandages his arm as best as she can in the dark, but who cares?

Who the fuck cares when he got hit by a bullet that was aimed at her? When he pushed her out of harm's way instead of following protocol and shooting the attacker instead? He could’ve had Riva down and out for the count, he was in perfect position for it, and even gave him ample warning. But he might’ve had her on the ground as well if that’s the option he’d picked.

Something tells her that simply because of that, it was never even an option for him.

Their eyes meet, close enough in the dark to really see each other, and they’re swimming with emotions before Jake’s flinch shut as a distant “Jakeeey~" echoes through the halls they’ve just run through.

“We need to get out of here. We- you don’t know what he’s willing- if he finds us-” Jake is up, all of a sudden, the motion making her sway and almost topple over. He’s scanning the room just like she did earlier when she stands up next to him, and his eyes lock onto the barrels and windows.

“I can give you a leg up high enough to reach the window if we climb that barrel. You’ll fit through it, and get over to Rogers and Carols and see if the backup-”

“And you stay here?” She finally scolds him with a look. “With the man who wants you dead? The one you called ‘torture guy’?”

He’s quiet at that, but she can see on his face that the decision was clearly made in his mind.

“You got any better ideas?”

“Like I said, we wait until backup gets here.”

Almost as if to prove the faults in her argument, another “Jakey boy! Get out here and face me, bitch!” drifts in from outside - closer than it was before, and Jake throws her the most panicked ‘told you’ look she’s ever seen.

“We’re still two against one. He’s emptied half his magazine earlier. If we corner him right, we get the element of surprise in the room as well-” her mind continues to work as her eyes settle on the door- “hug the wall next to the door, and we can disarm him or get him down before he’s even barged in completely.”

Jake seems to want to protest, even as the logical part of his brain is clearly telling him she’s right and that this is the best way to go at it, so he ends up simply nodding before gripping his gun and leaning against the wall next to the door, Amy following him suit on the other side.

They’re staring at each other while the noises outside the room seem to creep ever closer. ‘Come out and plaaay~' almost makes her snort for its ridiculousness if it wasn’t so terrifying, thinking about the things Jake has probably seen this man ‘play’ with.

She tries to calm her mind by focusing on him, instead. On his face in the hazy dark, the curls on his forehead she managed to jostle free earlier, the tense line of his neck, the glare of her beige suit jacket tied around his arm. The way he looks at her, even amidst the panic, amidst all the fear and worry stuck in the room with them.

He pushed her out of Riva’s aim. He dragged her close to him as he ran. He ignored his own injury, offering to lift her up to an escape he wouldn’t be able to make after her. It’s… it’s a lot. After barely two months of a relationship, it’s a lot to take in.

Except she knows - she knows deep down that he would’ve done all of this three months ago, too. Six months ago. Maybe years ago, even.

“We need to switch.” He whispers suddenly, pulling her out of her deep thoughts, and is already stepping over to her before she can ask. She feels his hand on her shoulder, nudging her back to where he’d been standing, and squeezing three times while doing so.

Sometimes she almost hates that squeeze. She knows what it means now, even though they haven’t said those three little words his squeezes represent yet, but in situations like these - it never forebodes anything good.

And she realises what it really means now, too, as she sees the hinges on the door on her side. The door that opens inwards. The door that will completely hide her behind it once it opens, and leave Jake alone in -

It opens before she can say anything, and then things happen way too quickly - there’s noise and shouting and she thinks she hears Jake’s “Down on the floor!” in between Riva’s angry screams and then there’s another gunshot. A single gunshot, and all she can see is the back of the door in front of her, frozen to the spot, unable to run around it and see if- see who-

“Fuck, Amy. Help me pin this fucker!” She hears the next moment and breathes out in relief. Her feet find themselves again as she runs over to where Jake is kneeling on Riva’s back, struggling to hold him down even with the gunshot wound in his thigh. He’s shouting obscenities, screaming and thrashing around, and Amy is so, so tempted to embed a bullet into his other thigh to get him quiet, but she joins Jake’s knees on his back instead, yanks his arms back in a way Jake couldn’t with his injury, and they click the handcuffs around him together at the very moment a team of heavily suited up officers rounds the corner.

_+_

He’s sitting on an uncomfortable chair in a brightly lit, wide open room of the hospital, squeezing her hand that is holding onto him while his other arm is propped up on a table and getting stitched up.

The EMTs that were taking care of Rogers checked him, too, but the injury wasn’t bad enough to warrant a ride in their ambulance with him, so Amy took over the keys for his Mustang and drove him after briefing the backup team and handing over a still cussing Riva to be brought into Holding. She put in a whispered request to be the one questioning him - with Rosa as secondary - to Terry, who was part of the backup team, and only gave her a quick look and then a nod after Riva screamed something about how he ‘shoulda offed that snitch when he had a chance’, watching Jake several feet away from them twitch and turn towards the EMT handling his arm.

The young doctor stitching him up seems suitably impressed by both his badge and his injury, remarking something about ‘bravery’ and ‘sacrifice’ he would usually eat up with glee, but all he’s doing is smile at Amy while his fingers intertwine with hers, squeeze only once before his thumb rubs circles across her hand.

They’re left alone soon enough while the doctor gets his painkillers subscription, and Jake takes the chance to lift Amy’s hand up to his lips and kiss it.

“Jake…” she begins when their hands drop again, and she can tell he’s getting ready for a lecture. “You risked too much back there.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in without backup, and made a lot of wrong decisions, and-”

“No.” She interrupts him, much to his surprise. “I mean, yes, obviously, and I’m glad you see that now, but that’s not what I meant.”

She sighs, deeply, and stares at their still interlocked hands.

“You risked too much for me.”

“Not possible.”

“Jake!” Her eyes dart up again, want to level him with an angry stare, but can’t help but soften when met with the absolute shine in his. “Jake, you got hit because you pushed me, you wanted to bail me out of the room to leave you with even less backup, and then you manoeuvred me into a dead corner to face a Mafioso on your own-”

“Yeah.”

“Why?!”

“Because it would’ve kept you safe.”

“That’s not how police work is supposed to-”

“Am I not supposed to keep my partner safe?”

“Not when it puts you in danger instead!”

“Hm.” He hums and looks at the bandaged up stitches on his arm. “Gotta rework the manual for that, then. Because frankly I don’t give a shit about me when it means helping you.”

“But I do.” She almost whispers, but he still looks back at her immediately, balks at the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I give a shit about you. You think I want to see you shot on the ground? You think I want to run away from a building when I know you’re stuck in there? You think I want to stand behind a door and only hear you get- get-” She bites back a sob and fixes him with a dedicated stare instead, a look on her face that makes his heart clench and dance at the same time. “We’re a team, Jake. In the field and off it. You can’t- you can’t play the hero and leave me behind.”

Her mind jumps back to an empty parking lot, the cold wind rushing over her flushed cheeks as she watches him walk away with his little box of things in his arms, not even waiting for her answer. Maybe not even hoping for one.

He sighs and nods back in the present, squeezes her hand again, twice.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, and she squeezes back once.

She knows they’ll probably be talking about this again in the future. She knows it’ll come up repeatedly until he learns. But she also knows, with a certainty that should maybe scare her after their short time together, why it’ll happen again in the future - because he’ll still be by her side no matter the situation. Because she’ll still be the one thing on his mind, no matter how panicked he is. Because they’ll go through it all together, as a team. As partners.

And deep down, she knows with an equal certainty that if the roles were reversed - she would probably rework the manual herself in her mind, to keep him safe. Would do anything and everything she could, no matter how many protocols it went against, to help him, save him, protect him, make him feel safe and secure.

Right now, she’s glad all it takes for that is a little lean into his direction to kiss him before the doctor comes back, and squeeze his hand three times before letting go and holding onto his face instead to deepen the kiss.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-One: Tread Softly

I’m sure some of you have been looking forward to this chapter. Some truths are starting to come out now :)

I know I put this on every chapter, but if you’re new here, this is a Chishiya x OC/Reader fic, and i’ve put the link to the full fic on AO3 right here.

Enjoy! And thanks so much for reading! You have no idea how much it means to me <3

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

A shiver swept through me, and everything went still. The flames, the tendrils of smoke, the gunfire, they all blurred into nothing, and all that mattered was this very moment.

‘The other day, you asked me for the reason why you’re here,’ he said, ‘but the real reason had nothing to do with your usefulness to the Beach. It was because you were useful to me.’

He spoke as if he were telling a well-rehearsed story, as if he’d predicted this outcome all along. He wasn’t even looking at me, but simply staring off into the smoke.

‘From our first game together, it was obvious you cared too much about others. I was looking for a third person to complete the plan, and after the Tag game, when I brought you to that pharmacy, I knew you were perfect.’

Every word sent a new wave of disappointment washing over me, eventually settling and making way for numbness, as I realised how much he had played me for a fool. And the most devastating part was that I should have seen it coming. After all, he was the one who’d told me my naivety would be the death of me.

‘And after that?’

‘Everything I did after that was all to gain your trust.’ When he finally looked at me, his expression was indifferent. Detached. ‘I was going to send you into the royal suite, just like Arisu.’

The wind shifted, and the cards grazed around our feet, settling once again on the rooftop. An orange glow had lit up the hotel windows, and as the fire spread, it sent embers floating up into the night sky. And in the middle of it all, was the million-dollar question.

‘So why am I still alive?’

‘Because somewhere along the way,’ he said, ‘I changed my mind.’

But... why?

He was speaking in riddles, evading my question like he evaded everything, and quite frankly, I was tired of it. I just wanted out, and to not have to worry about whether he was going to throw me under the bus.

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying I decided against the idea.’ He sighed, his expression darkening almost imperceptibly. ‘I’m not sure exactly when the decision happened. It crept up behind me, without me realizing it.’

I froze.

‘It sort of creeps up behind you, and by the time you realise it’s there, it’s too late. You’re already trapped.’

Those words… they were mine, back from that time in the jewellery store. He knew how I felt, and he was still trying to get into my head and twist me.

My fists clenched. ‘Stop,’ I hissed. ‘Stop trying to play with me like this.’

‘Play with you?’ His eyes shone with amusement. ‘Who says I’m playing with you?’

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, and I squeezed my hands until the fingernails cut sharp crescents into my palms. The flash of pain offered little remedy. The fact that he was toying with me so casually... I didn’t know whether I loved or hated him.

‘You were going to use me for something else then,’ I said. ‘If not for your plan, I would have come pretty handy in a game. A human shield, maybe.’

He laughed, a soft huff of air. ‘The thought did come to mind, but like I said, I decided against it.’

Despite how much I wanted him to leave me alone and let me focus on finishing the game, there was still a part of me that childishly clung onto the hope that he was telling the truth. I despised that part... I wanted to stamp in into the ground until it was buried forever.

‘I can’t....’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t understand.’

For a long moment, he stared at the rooftop in quiet contemplation, and then he spoke. The words were low, slipping out as if they didn’t truly want to be heard, and something inside of me buckled.

‘You’re a train whistle.’

I cried, hard. Even while the wind scattered the cards around our feet, and the gunfire slowly ebbed away, I sobbed into my hands like a child because this was my dream, the vision that I had wanted for myself. Yet here he was, standing before me with his trickster smile and his cruel apathy, trying to steal it from me.

‘I’m sorry.’ I rubbed the tears from my face with the backs of my hands. ‘I just can’t believe you.’

His jaw tightened for a fraction of a second. ‘You can’t believe me, or you don’t?’

‘Both,’ I replied. ‘If you’re telling the truth, you’d have to find a way to prove it. And even then, you’ve lied so much, I just can’t trust anything you say anymore, even if I really want to.’

‘And if I found proof?’

I shook my head. ‘You can’t.’

That was the cold hard reality.

However, there was another reality, one that was surrounding us in swathes of smoke gusting from the windows downstairs. The fire in the hotel was spreading fast, aided by the cold breeze that seeped through the singed holes in the back of my hoodie and sent goosebumps across my skin. Chishiya didn’t seem particularly bothered by the flames. His impassive gaze was focused on the ground, and he seemed preoccupied with something else.

Probably whatever ‘proof’ he’s going to concoct.

‘We should pick these up and go back inside,’ I said, drying my eyes on my sleeve and eyeing the playing cards dotted across the rooftop. ‘We need to find the witch before we all burn alive.’

Chishiya was silent as he helped me collect the cards before the wind carried them off. Once we re-entered the hotel, I could hear his footsteps following behind me, but I didn’t turn. Until the timer on our phones ticked down to zero, we would be allies and nothing more.

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

The halls were empty, and as we made our way to the balcony overlooking the lobby, it became clear why. All of the survivors were gathered here, including Aguni and the militants. Chishiya and I stayed close behind a pillar, remaining hidden on the floor above while watching the scene. The air was stiff as the survivors backed away, crying before the militants who waited with their guns poised.

‘Kill them all,’ Aguni said.

The militants readied themselves, adjusting their grip, all except one who shakily clutched his gun. ‘Jun,’ he said to the man beside him. ‘I can’t... I just can’t do this anymore.’

‘We’ve gone too far to stop,’ Jun replied. ‘There’s no way we can go back to our original lives after killing this many people’

I flinched as Aguni kicked Jun to the ground. ‘You heard me before, right? Anyone who goes against me is a witch.’ His expression turned dark, and he pointed his gun at Jun’s head.

‘Shoot me then!’ Jun cried.

I bit my lip, my fingers tightening around the balcony as Aguni placed his finger on the trigger.

‘That’s enough!’

That voice… he’s alive.

A familiar face appeared from the sidelines, and the crowd parted to make way for Usagi, the girl in the yellow t-shirt from earlier, and a boy I knew to be named Tatta. Between them, they were supporting a heavily injured Arisu. Blood was smeared across his face and clothes, but I was glad to see that he had made it.

I should go down there, I thought. I should be supporting them.

I made a move towards the staircase, only for Chishiya to wrap a hand around my forearm. Glaring, I tried to yank myself free. He only tightened his grip in response and shook his head.

‘Let’s end this game!’ Tatta said, moving back to let his friend stand upright.

Arisu hobbled over to Aguni. ‘I was tied up by you guys the entire time, even before the murder happened. I can’t be the witch, and if none of you guys are the witch, there’s no need to kill me. Please cooperate with me.’

Aguni casually strolled over, then smashed his fist into Arisu’s nose. There was a crunch as he kicked him square in the chest, and Arisu’s body rolled across the floor. I recoiled, turning my head in the direction of the staircase – anything not to have to look at Arisu’s bloodied features. Chishiya’s fingers squeezed.

Once again, Arisu stood up to face Aguni, who advanced like a predator. Before he could swing a punch, Usagi lunged at him. He tossed her aside like a rag doll.

‘I see now,’ she said, scowling from where she lay sprawled on the floor. ‘The reason you attacked Arisu even though he’s the only one with an alibi, it’s because you’re the witch.’

There was a moment where Aguni hesitated. Something unreadable came over his face, then he spoke, confident. ‘That’s right. I’m the witch.’

The room filled with whispers. Several people took a step back, eyeing the guns of the militants and Aguni’s unwavering certainty. There was something about it that didn’t sit right with me. Aguni had more of a reason to kill Arisu and Usagi than he did Momoka. Not to mention Kuina had been guarding outside his room earlier. He had been in there all evening.

‘Why is he lying?’ I whispered to Chishiya.

His mouth tilted knowingly. ‘I have a feeling we’ll find out soon.’

I bet he already knows who the witch is.

I scanned the room, trying to figure it out for myself, but there were so many elements to this puzzle. Aguni wasn’t the witch, that was obvious. He probably murdered Hatter though, and I had a feeling there was more to it than just rising tensions. It was only when he walked towards the militants’ outstretched guns, daring them to shoot him, that the bigger picture started to come together.

He wants to die…

Hatter’s death, he felt guilty for it, and now he wanted to die. Could that mean they had been genuine friends before things at the Beach got out of control? But that still didn’t make Aguni the witch. If this was a Hearts game, the real witch was someone we’d least expect… a solution that would leave us distraught.

Apparently, I wasn’t alone in thinking this, as Arisu yelled, ‘don’t shoot him! Aguni’s not the witch!’ With Usagi’s help, he lifted his head from the ground. ‘This is a Ten of Hearts game. Killing him won’t help you win.’

He’s right, it’s a Hearts game, which means the witch will be hidden in plain sight.

The rules stated that we had to find the witch and burn her body. They never mentioned anything about killing anybody, and the rules never lied.

It’s a solution that that still involves burning a body…

My eyes drifted to Momoka.

‘He has an ulterior motive,’ Arisu continued, struggling to his feet. ‘The one you killed wasn’t Momoka… it was Hatter. I found out after I saw your eyes. They were the same eyes I had after killing my best friends.’ He stumbled into middle of the room until he stood face to face with Aguni. ‘If you had this many firearms, the militants would have gained control a long time ago. In reality, you and hatter were both helping each other. There was no conflict at all. You were best friends with Hatter in reality, right?’

With one subtle twitch, Aguni’s expression gave him away, and he crashed his fist into Arisu’s head. Several people jumped onto his back, but he shook them off easily, picking up Arisu by the scruff and socking him once again in the jaw. It was hard to believe he was still conscious as he writhed on the carpet.

‘Just who is the witch?’ Usagi cried.

‘I know who it is,’ Arisu whispered. He swayed as he got to his feet. Then he pointed across the room, and everyone turned to the body lying there. ‘It’s possible that the witch is Momoka herself.’

I looked at Chishiya who was calm as ever. ‘You knew this already, right?’

He smirked softly. ‘So did you.’

For the tiniest second, there was something else in his expression, something I didn’t have a name for, and some of the pain I felt softened in response. But the moment disappeared, as down below, the room erupted into disorder.

‘What a joke!’ Aguni threw Arisu to the floor yet again. This time, the action sparked something as all the remaining survivors threw themselves at Aguni, swarming in an attempt to subdue him. With gritted teeth, he flung them aside one by one. ‘I’m the witch!’ he yelled. ‘It’s me!’

It was no use. They circled him in a mess of limbs, arms grabbing and pulling desperately. If they could take him down, or at least keep him distracted, there was a chance the game could finally be cleared. But then a new voice broke through the madness, and things took a strange, strange turn down the rabbit hole.

‘Listen up everyone!’ The girl in the yellow t-shirt, Momoka’s best friend, stood unflinching in the middle of the room. ‘I’m the dealer for this game!’

A bright red laser struck the ceiling and pierced her body. She dropped, limp against the floor.

A Dealer?

My mouth fell open in surprise, and at the same time, it all fell into place… the reason why certain games had others playing against us… why they seemed to be designed and run by gamemasters rather than computers. Were the people in this world split into dealers and players?

I glanced at Chishiya finding him equally taken aback. His fingers slackened around my arm, and seeing my opportunity, I pulled away, heading towards the stairs.

The least I can do is help them carry Momoka’s body to the fire.

I didn’t get far. Chishiya’s hand grabbed my hood and dragged me right back. I staggered, trying to get away from him after everything he’d done, only to freeze when he said firmly, ‘not just yet.’

‘Why?’ I hissed. ‘So you can use me as a shield in case they see us?’

He didn’t reply, but the look on his face left no room for discussion. Everything inside me bristled as he kept his hand tight around my wrist. He had no right, no right whatsoever to do this, keeping me here without even telling me why. However, the sting was washed away when I saw Kuina stumble into the room, Ann by her side.

Kuina!

It was such a relief and a joy to see her alive and uninjured, although at the same time I wondered how much she was in on. Did she know that Chishiya had been manipulating me? Was she only friends with me because he had told her to be? She had mentioned once that he was the one who asked her to bring me food that time when we first met. The confusion was tearing me apart; I no longer knew what was real and what was fabricated.

Ann held up the missing knife from the body. ‘The fingerprints on the handle show a reverse grip,’ she said. ‘Momoka killed herself.’

It only meant one thing; she had committed suicide for the sake of starting the game.

Then in that case, they were both ‘dealers’, whatever that means.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this now. Were they forced to participate, or did they choose to create all this mess themselves? If so, why would they want to do something like this? And why would the girl in the yellow t-shirt help Arisu if she was in on the game?

‘FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.’

The acrid scent of burning fabric filled the air, and everyone looked around, trying to pinpoint the source.

The fire!

I had forgotten all about it, and now there was no time to waste standing around like this.

‘We only have minutes left!’ Kuina shouted. ‘We need to get her body onto the fire.’

Several people scrambled to lift Momoka’s body and bring this entire massacre to an end. No more deaths. No more blood. No more betrayal. However, this was just wishful thinking, cut short by gunshots bursting through the lobby. A familiar figure stumbled out through the smoke, and I instinctively took a step back.

Niragi’s alive?!

He’d wrapped his torn shirt around his head, and every inch of his upper body was blistered with glistening red burns. In his hand was a submachine gun, and with an animalistic growl, he unleashed a spray of bullets throughout the room.

Bodies flew back and tumbling to the ground, blood splattering the walls and carpet as people stumbled over one another in a frantic struggle to escape. I saw Arisu and Usagi duck, while others crouched low, covering their heads. Bullets ricocheted off the walls as Niragi aimed wildly in every direction, shooting everything that moved.

And then he looked up.

Even through the charred skin and the tatters of fabric, that familiar glint shone in his eyes when they locked with mine. Teeth bared in unrestrained fury, he raised his gun.

I felt Chishiya’s hands on my shoulders.

It’s just sound and fury…

He fired.

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

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