#If she gets a black ring of charm resistance I swear to god
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Ace. Queen.
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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?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag List:
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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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[Image Description: a banner for the Across the Bay Crossover Fics You Didn’t See Coming fest, featuring beach signs on a tropical island, reading “Cardiff by the Sea”, the name of the fest, “authors”, “torchwood” (partially obscured), and “one shots” (partially obscured), and a warning sign where Myfanwy chases a swimmer]
ACROSS THE BAY: CROSSOVER FICS YOU DIDN’T SEE COMING MASTERPOST
Thank you everyone for submitting your crossover and fusion fic recommendations. Below are all submissions and some of our favorites!
Is it Insensitive for Me to Say by aliciajazmin (EstherJohnTosh | complete | 2441 | T)
Toshiko Sato and Esther Drummond absolutely will make fun of their boyfriend for deciding to attend an audition, while also attending said audition with him.
Crossover With: The Outer Worlds
Golden Apples and Norse Gods (Or How Ianto Got His Groove Back) by blackkat (JackIanto | complete | 1592 | G)
Ianto finds himself back from the dead and, apparently, in the position to double-cross a power-crazed Norse god intent on conquering the Earth by taking out a team of superheroes. Must be a Tuesday.
Crossover With: Avengers/MCU
The Magic of Torchwood by Bella the Strange (JackIanto, IantoJohn, JackOther, Non-Torchwood Ships | wip | 546,512 | T)
The Torchwood team have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Set between Adam and Reset. Rated T because of Jack Harkness, swearing, mature themes, slash etc… it’s Torchwood!
Crossover With: Harry Potter
Welcome to Torchwood by Jackdaw818 (Gen | complete | 1601 | T)
A strange creature behind the Ralphs, a break-in at the Museum of Forbidden Technologies, and visitors in Night Vale. Overall, a slightly unordinary day for Cecil Gershwin Palmer
Crossover With: Welcome to Night Vale
Torchwait for iiiiit by lady-demacabre (Gen | complete | 3k | K+)
When Shawn and Gus are called in on a case for an eccentric collector of alien objects, they get more than what they bargained for. One shot, Psych oriented.
Crossover With: Psych
Theme and Variations by nemo_baker (JackIanto, GwenRhys, OwenKatie | 5817 | T)
Time Agent Jack Harkness is sent back in time to solve the mystery of a mysterious train bombing. The problem is, he only has eight minutes to do it.
Written for Reel Torchwood screening 8 on Livejournal. Movie Prompt: Source Code (2011)
Crossover With: Source Code
Day Tripper by Croquemboucheballpit (Gement) (JackBessie the Third Doctor’s Car, Bessie the Third Doctor’s CarLightening McQueen (past) | complete | 2360 | M)
Bessie’s like any other companion: far from home, more than she appears, and always up for an adventure.
And Jack Harkness really will seduce anything that moves.
Crossover With: Pixar’s Cars
An American Volunteer by That_one_kid (SteveBucky, BuckyJackSteve | Complete | 4395 | T)
What if Captain Jack Harkness met Steve & Bucky during the war? What if he ran into them again, present day?
AKA
Captain Jack Harkness and his mission to seduce the two gorgeous, capable soldiers who keep running into him.
Crossover With: Captain America/MCU
Statement #0041708 - Future Sight by Jackdaw816 (Gen | complete | 1690 | T)
Statement of Lisa Hallett regarding a peculiar mirror found at a car boot sale
Crossover With: The Magnus Archives
(Un)Welcome Aboard by Jaune_Chat (Jack | Complete | 4,154 | T)
To make ends meet, Mal listens to a suggestion from Inara than he rent out the other shuttle. She has the perfect candidate, a charming Companion named Jack…
Crossover With: Firefly
Death and the Definitely-Not-A Maiden by Odsbodkins (JackIanto | Complete | 3,6K | PG-13)
When Jack dies, Death is there to meet him. Every time.
Written in 2008 for the Doctor Who Crossover Ficathon. Takes in Torchwood to end S2, Doctor Who to end S3, Discworld to Soul Music.
Crossover With: Discworld
Remarkable by snowwhiteliar ( JackIanto, IantoLisa | Complete | 20.971 | PG-13)
Summary: Once upon a time, in a small village in a distant province of a peaceful kingdom, there lived a boy called Ianto
Crossover With: Fairy Tales
Got That Friday Feeling Again by NancyBrown (OwenOther, JackIanto, GwenRhys, GwenOwen | Complete | 18.3K | R)
HELP HELP HELP HELP
I AM TRAPPED IN A TIME BUBBLE
The magic marker all over the nice chintz wallpaper bled and smeared as Owen wrote in increasingly desperate lettering across the walls. Ls and Ps dragged down, wiggly at the end or drawn out in slashed strokes.
He ignored the pounding on the door frame. He’d shoved the wardrobe in front, which always kept Jack out for twenty three and a half minutes. He ignored the sweat and tears and snot dripping down his face, down his mouth. He ignored the high-pitched singing from his own throat, “If you want my future, forget my past,” chanted over and over.
HELP
Crossover With: Groundhog Day
Back, and Back, and Back a Little More (Future Optional) (JackIanto, JennyVastra | Complete | 32591 | M)
Accidentally shot into the past by a time-travelling car, Ianto has to fix his own mistakes or he won't have a future to go back to.
Crossover With: Back to the Future
Truth, Justice by NancyBrown (SupermanOwen | complete | 414 | M)
The green shit does not work. Warnings: dubcon (AMTDI)
Crossover With: Justice League Unlimited/DCAU/Superman
Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodies, or, A Humourous Interlude Between Epics by copperbadge (Gen | complete | 749 | T)
Ianto neglected to introduce himself as he informed the senior staff that Atlantis was now under the jurisdiction of Torchwood, whatever Torchwood is.
Crossover With: Stargate Atlantis
Never Have I Ever by st_aurafina (JackIanto, JackDoctor (past/implied), PepperTony (implied) | complete | 1714 | T)
Written for the prompt Ianto, Donna and Pepper end up at a secretaries'/assistants' conference and have a conversation about their bosses.
Crossover With: Ironman/MCU
Beware the Sparkles by elisi (JackIanto, JackEdwardBella | complete | 4793 | T)
It's terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after. Oh and Jack has sex with sparkly vampires.
Crossover With: Twilight
The Death Note Discovery by KaibaGirl007 (JackIanto | complete | 18,992 | T)
“You’ve clearly just got a notebook belonging to some geek, a rather sick geek I’ll give you that, who likes to keep note of people’s deaths.” - Will the team resist the urge to use the Death Note or will one of them give into temptation?
Crossover With: Death Note
A Confluence of Personalities by galaxysoup (JackIanto | complete | 4839 | T)
Conner Kent’s body might be dead, but his soul has apparently decided to take the scenic route.
Crossover With: DC Comics/Young Justice Comics
Imposters Among Us by gwendolyncooper (JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 9117 | M)
The Torchwood team (+Rhys) are out for a night of fun when they end up on a spaceship with no power, no info, and no crew. Known only as THE SKELD, the team tries to fix the ship and figure out what happened to its previous occupants.
But something out there is killing them.
Something that may be someone they know.
Crossover With: Among Us
Traitors (Among Us) by princessoftheworlds (JackIanto | complete | 440 | G)
In a happy future, the team plays Among Us, and Ianto suffers.
Crossover With: Among US
Tagline: I saw the VIDEO. Got the CALL? What Next??? by BricklingGhost (TeamGwenee) (JackIanto, JackSamara | complete | 2424 | Not Rated)
'Tagline: I saw the VIDEO. Got the CALL? What Next???
Bollocks. That’s just a myth. Some git showing off and claiming to be the one person alive who Samara doesn’t bump off. He’ll be boasting that he’s been chosen to kill Voldemort next.'
When another unsuspecting victim falls foul of the cursed tape, he is pointed towards Captain Jack Harkness as his only hope for salvation.
Crossover With: The Ring
(My God, He Just) Came and Went by Brokenpitchpipe (SteveBucky | complete | 1591 | M)
It starts on a cold, snowy September night in 1916, on the day Winifred Barnes walks to Doris Lindow’s house to see her new telephone and catches the eye of a handsome young man on the other side of the street. He tips his hat as she sees him, and she flushes scarlet and nods in return.
And nine months later, a little baby boy screams his way into the world.
But that’s not when it starts. Not really.
Crossover With: Captain America/MCU
Beast Inside by Flamingbluepanda (JackIanto, OwenTosh, GwenRhys | complete | 26934 | M)
"Argue with anything else, but don’t argue with your own nature.” - Phillip Pullman
Inside us all, there is an animal that expresses our soul. How would the world change were those animals outside?
Crossover With: His Dark Materials
Rifts and Robots by Paycheckgurl (JackIanto | complete | 3021 | G)
Jack and Ianto’s date at the movies is interrupted by two robots with no theater etiquette.
Crossover With: Mystery Science Theater 3000
The Jack and Ianto Show by Paycheckgurl (JackIanto | WIP | 7392 | T)
Jack and Ianto are a regular couple, living a quiet life, and trying to fit into the quaint Village of West Castle. Sure they're keeping the secret that Jack is an immortal time traveler from the future, with a fantastical machine called a vortex manipulator that can manipulate time and space around them, but they have much more pressing concerns. Such as strict bosses and nosy neighbors. Everything is perfect, a dream come true.
And Jack is going to keep it that way.
Please Stand By...
Crossover With: WandaVision
Mutually Assured Uncooperation by princessoftheworlds (JackIanto, OwenTosh, MarthaMickey, FitzSimmons, LincolnDaisy (past) | complete | 31547 | T)
Aliens, time-travelling, resurrections. These are all experiences familiar to not just one but two top-secret organizations that have a hard time keeping a low-profile. Figures that they would encounter each other eventually.
Or: the five times that SHIELD and Torchwood had an encounter that neither were pleased with, and the one time they had to work together when two of their own were taken.
Or: There's Kree running amok in Cardiff, including a murdered one, and Torchwood is on the case, but so is SHIELD. Also, don't forget the memory-manipulating aliens there too!
Crossover With: Agents of Shield/MCU
all i know is (infatuations) by princessoftheworlds (JackIanto, JackJohn, OwenTosh, LisaIanto | complete | 439 | T)
Seventh-year Slytherin Ianto Jones handles a break up, getting a boyfriend, terrible emotional misunderstandings with his best friend Jack Harkness, being miserable, and reconciliation. (Not precisely in that order.)
Crossover With: Harry Potter
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Day 94
Cassian Andor/Reader
Turns out I can’t finish things, but I can start them. And the wonderful @yours-truly-r can finish things. It’s only short, but it’s something. and who knows, one day i might go back and add more. ty my lovely co-author xx
Cassian Andor is well known in the resistance. Not always by that name, but generally by reputation. His success on missions is becoming legendary in certain circles, and in others… well… there’s not a whorehouse this side of the galaxy that doesn’t have some story of him.
He is, however, more of a serial monogamist than anything. Those stories stem more from cocky assholes using his names for their own benefit than the actual cocky asshole said names belong to.
If you’re lucky enough to end up in Cassian’s bed, you’re there for at least a week. At most? Well, three months is the record. Ninety three days of horizontal companionship and the inability to sit comfortably in public. Not from his handiwork alone - though it played a part - but the stares, the whispers, the bets on when exactly his eyes would wander to someone else and his interest would drift… they’d make even the most stoic of bedfellows uncomfortable in the mess hall, the corridors, the command centre… everywhere except his quarters.
His interest never stayed. His eyes wandered around rooms as much as his hands would wander across skin, his bed never empty but never permanently filled.
It’s why the whispers are especially loud this morning. It’s day ninety four. And he’s still got his arm around your waist at breakfast, staring at you with those deep dark eyes, nodding along to whatever your sleep deprived mind can think to say. His lips quirked upward in what some would call a lovesick expression. But he’s Cassian Andor! And that’s impossible.
It’ll probably happen today.
He’s just being sweet so the poor thing’s heart doesn’t break, they reason.
But then it’s day ninety five with that look in his eyes and that charming smile on his face. Then ninety six, ninety seven…
The bets really ramp up at day 100, and by day 152, the women and men of the world weep. Because she heard it! The technician for his A-Wing swears by it. Captain Cassian Andor was holding you in his arms, kissing your cheeks soft and whispering festian to you, and then she heard it “Caraya, I will always come back to you, I love you.”
No one believes it at first but then more and more people come forward.
“I heard it” “Me too!” “So did I”
People speculate. Oh God, You have something terminal. Maybe you’re blackmailing him? Brain trauma on the latest mission.
Day 275.5
One lucky bastard from Battle Strategies won on his off bet. Credits beyond comprehension. Because on day 275, at noon, Cassian and his lover walk into the dining room and there - right there! - a black, festian metal ring on your left hand.
Because after all, everyone who goes serial gets caught eventually.
#cassian andor#cassian andor/reader#cassian andor x reader#star wars fanfiction#rogue one fanfiction#cassian andor fanfiction#stuffiwrote
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Physical Fatality Part 3- A Night to Remember
18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader
Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.
If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf
This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni
Warnings for graphic descriptions of unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (receiving), creampie, and minor dom/sub themes
Masterlist
Let no one say Bakugo doesn’t make good on his promises.
You wore a black gown that hugged your figure perfectly and a matching black mask. The dress had been designed specifically with you in mind with silver detailing spiraling throughout. The designer had said she chose it because of the way silver would wind up and branch out along your arms when you used your quirk. “I’m not sure how else to incorporate telekinesis in a dress so I hope this is enough,” the small owl-eyed woman had fretted. “It’s perfect,” you had assured her, and now, as you stepped onto the red carpet with Bakugo on one arm and Midoriya the other, you were proving your assertion correct. The press had, of course, immediately picked up on the lack of an engagement ring on your hand and the lack of a fiancé on your arm but you ignored any and all questions about your engagement as you otherwise charmed the press. Then the minute you all were safely inside the hotel the event was hosted at, you and Bakugo had exchanged mischievous looks before making a beeline to the bar. It had taken Midoriya at least twenty minutes to coax you both from the hotel bar to the main banquet hall and by then you already had a pretty good buzz going. That of course didn’t stop your quest to get blitzed on the agency’s credit, however, as the two of you simply switched from the cocktails downstairs to drinking the complimentary champagne like it was water.
“Kacchan, (y/n)-Chan, please, slow down,” Midoriya fusses. “I didn’t think he’d actually fuss the whole time,” you confess to Bakugo. You’re taking the glass of champagne currently in your hand slower. As much as you’d talked about being the opposite of respectable you don’t want to tip over into sloppy territory. You and Katsuki are a little too friendly and a little too loud and that, in your opinion, is the sweet spot. “Tried to warn you. Go hang with your girlfriend Deku we’re fine,” Bakugo insists. “Are you guys fine though? You know this is technically a work event,” Midoriya chides. “If they didn’t want us to get at least a little drunk they shouldn’t have offered free champagne,” you point out. “We’ll be fine dumbass, go hang with your girl and we’ll stay here and be responsibly drunk,” Bakugo insists. Midoriya looks between the two of you multiple times before casting a look back over his shoulder where he can see Uraraka, Iida, and Yaoyorozu all talking. “We’ll even let you be the one to take us home! Promise!” you add on. Midoriya casts one last skeptical look before breaking. “Ugh, fine. But I’m serious guys! You better stay right here,” Midoriya finally relents. You and Bakugo both give him a mock salute before he finally relaxes and goes to join Uraraka. “Hey Katsuki?” you suddenly pipe up. “What?” “I just realized something.” “What did you realize?” “I’m pretty sure since Monoma and I broke up I’m technically fucking homeless right now.” It’s not funny but the two of you crack up anyway.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Tokoyami groans as he trails behind Hawks, who is on the lookout for Mirko. “Even Dark Shadow thinks this is a horrible plan,” he insists. “Dark shadow does not think this is a horrible plan. Don’t put words in his mouth to prove a point,” Hawks says rolling his eyes. “I’m not, look,” Tokoyami insists. Hawks sighs and turns to face his friend. As the now very familiar black form emerges from Tokoyami’s torso, Hawks is 90% sure he’s about to be proven correct. In reality it’s a very good thing Hawks doesn’t gamble. Dark Shadow had promptly agreed with Tokoyami and it had only made the other man even more smug. “Whatever, I’m still going to find her,” Hawks huffs. “Why are you so insistent?” Tokoyami questions him. “She’s the love of my life! I’m sure of it!” “Oh my god you finally snapped.” “Fuck off.” “She is not the love of your life and even if she was she wants nothing to do with you now!” “You just don’t understand. I have to fight for her back.” “Would you tell her your real name?”
The last question makes Hawks stop in his tracks and whirl around back to this friend. “What are you on about now?” he asks. “If she’s the love of your life would you let her touch your wings and would you tell her your real name and if you had to choose between her and work would you choose her?” Tokoyami presses. Hawks opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He wants to say yes. He wants to stick it to his friend and tell him he would indeed let himself be vulnerable with Mirko because she’s the love of his life so there! But Keigo has always hated lying and he knows the answer is no to all of the above. So he opts instead to say “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” “I give up. When Mirko inevitably slaps you or this otherwise blows up in your face at least try not to let it happen in front of paparazzi. Endeavor is very proud we’ve been bad headline free this month,” Tokoyami sighs before turning the opposite direction and leaving Hawks to his own devices.
“One question remains (y/n),” Katsuki announces to you as you both finish your drinks. “And what would that be?” you giggle. “Who are we taking home tonight? Or I guess who am I taking home and who are you convincing to take you to their home since you’re technically homeless,” he elaborates. “We told Midoriya we’d stay here and he could escort us back home so he wouldn’t have to worry,” you reply. “You were actually going to listen?” “No I was gonna sneak off during the speeches to bang someone and then be back here in time for Midoriya to escort us home.” “Smart woman.” “Thank you.” “So who are you thinking?” he asks.
Your eyes scan the banquet hall before finally alighting on a pair of red wings. He’s wearing a black suit with a tie and mask to match the color of his wings. His sandy blonde hair is wild and you wonder if it was styled that way or if the man had flown here and made it that way. Something about him is magnetic and you can’t explain why but you have a strong desire to follow its pull. “I may have found someone, not sure yet,” you hedge. Bakugo hums in acknowledgment as he too scans around the hall. “Why are you bothering to look?” you ask. “The fuck are you on about?” he questions back. “We both know you’re big gay for Red Riot. I would bet you have been since high school,” you tease. “Shut up,” Bakugo grouses. “Am I wrong though? He’s gotta be around here somewhere,” you say looking around. You finally spot the tell tale red hair of the man Bakugo once drunkenly confessed to you he lusts after. “There he is,” you grin. “I swear to god dumbass,” Bakugo warns, looking suddenly nervous. You roll your eyes and flag down one last glass of champagne. You press it into Bakugo’s hands and then you look him in the eye with all the seriousness your tipsy ass can muster. “Listen here Katsuki. Take this liquid courage, down it in one go, march right up to that sexy ass motherfucker and whisk him off his goddamn feet. You are Katsuki motherfucking Bakugo aka Dynamight aka explosion murder GOD, the number three hero in Japan. Now go get your mans,” you tell him. You watch his crimson eyes fill with determination and you have to resist laughing at the way he looks eerily similar to how he does before a particularly daunting battle. “I’m gonna do it,” he decides. “Fuck yes!” you encourage as he knocks back the champagne before passing you the empty glass and storming over to where Kirishima is.
Meanwhile Hawks is still searching for Mirko when he lays eyes on you instead. It’s like everything else stops. The rest of the world fades away as he watches you talk with Bakugo. There’s something about how casual and wild and free you look, even dressed as elegantly as you are. There’s something different about you and he can’t peel his eyes away. How has he never seen you before? Surely he would’ve noticed someone as captivating as you sooner. The speeches are due to start soon and he really should find a seat or something, but then Bakugo leaves and you’re standing there all alone and Hawks’ feet are taking him over to you without his brain having consciously decided to do so. “Mind if I join you?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, taking a spot next to you leaning against the table. “Not at all,” you reply with a grin. Mirko walks right past the two of you and he doesn’t even notice, too caught up in your smile and your voice. God your voice is just as beautiful as the rest of you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” Hawks admits. “I could say the same to you,” you fire back. “Trust me this isn’t my first rodeo around here. But I’d remember someone as stunning as you coming to one of these,” Hawks replies easily. “Probably not if I was on another man’s arm,” you admit. “Oh, you have a boyfriend.” “Had a fiancé. Now I’m free,” you pause, looking him up and down, “well free as a bird I guess,” you finish smirking. Hawks laughs at that. “Wow, I definitely haven’t heard that one a million times,” he teases you. “I never said I was creative, just that I was free,” you tell him. When your eyes meet again it’s like a million volts have shot through your gazes and suddenly you’re hungry for him in a way you haven’t been hungry for anyone in a very long time. The lights dim as the first speaker takes the stage, out of the corner of your eye you notice a familiar blonde head leading a red one out of the room. A quick search soon reveals Midoriya eagerly watching the stage for whatever crusty retiree is about to speak. Basically, the coast is clear. “As much as I would love to listen to a bunch of old people recount stories of their hero glory days, what do you say you and I sneak over to the hotel bar for a drink,” you offer. “I’d like nothing more,” Hawks grins.
As it turns out the hotel bar is closed, but you and Hawks have no intentions of letting that stop your fun. After a quick check for security cameras or nosy bystanders, you reach out with your quirk and carefully bring a nice bottle of hard liquor from behind the bar. You promptly pass it to Hawks who raises an eyebrow at you. “I’ve been drinking most of the night, you sir need to catch up,” you explain cheekily. “Fair enough,” Hawks laughs. He cracks open the bottle and takes a long pull from it, wincing a little as it burns down his throat. “Now where to since the bar isn’t an option?” he asks. You pause and think for a moment before coming up with an idea. “Follow me,” you whisper conspiratorially before grabbing Hawks’ hand and dragging him down the hall to the stairs, both of you abandoning your masks as you go.
Hawks has never done anything this wild and reckless before. Regardless of the press’s perception of him, Hawks has had a highly regimented life since the HPSC took him in, and his sense of duty and responsibility had only grown since he properly began his career. Sure, he’s had a few girlfriends over the years, but he truly was looking for love in every one of them. Yes, even the ones after Mirko.
You are something different entirely. What he felt for all of them combined could not compare to the feelings racing through him now as the two of you run up the stairs two at a time, the sound of your footsteps echoing up the tight stairwell. He can’t take it anymore and when the two of you reach the next landing he tugs you into him by your hand and kisses you. He can taste the champagne on your tongue but there’s also something uniquely you in the kiss that he can’t get enough of. So he takes and takes and takes like a man starving and you’re all too happy to give it to him. When you two stop to catch your breath you whisper, “come on, we’re almost there,” and then press another kiss to his lips quickly before tugging him out the door into the hallway.
You keep going until you finally find the door you’re looking for. When you try the handle it’s locked but you’re not concerned. You bend down and extend your quirk into the lock, closing your eyes so you can concentrate. You can feel the different tumblers and get to work pushing at each one experimentally until they click into the proper position and the door unlocks. You grin and push the door open. “After you,” you say. “That’s a neat party trick. You sure you’re a hero?” Hawks teases as he steps into the room. As he finally turns to take it in he realizes you’ve brought him to the hotel pool. “I’m sure,” you laugh, “just grew up a bit rougher than most have. Lockpicking is pretty simple to be honest. Regardless, we should have this place to ourselves.” Hawks can relate but he’s not allowed to tell you that, so instead he asks “Oh really?” “Really.” “Wonder what we should get up to then,” he muses before suddenly pushing you into the water.
It takes a half a second for you to register what’s happening and then you’re plunging under the surface of the water. You quickly resurface and you want to be pissed but your mystery man is laughing and it’s so beautiful it’s as if the sun itself is contained within his smile. Something tells you he doesn’t laugh like this much, so, instead of getting angry, you decide to get even. “Oh you think that’s funny bird boy?” you ask. “I do,” he grins down at you as he stands what he thinks is a safe distance away from the pool’s edge. “Then why don’t you come join me,” you smile back. You reach out with your quirk, feeling it wrap around his body and then tug. You can see the shocked look on his face as your quirk drags him to the water’s edge and then unceremoniously dumps him in the water. As he comes up for air, shaking water out of his hair he looks so affronted but you can see the amusement there too. He hadn’t expected you to retaliate. So now it’s your turn to laugh. Even though your dress is probably ruined and your perfectly styled hair definitely is for the night, you laugh in a way you haven’t in ages. “Oh it’s on now,” Hawks declares and suddenly the two of you are splashing each other like children, both trying to use your quirks to gain an advantage. It’s crazy and chaotic and soon splashing turns to all but wrestling and when he finally has you pinned against him and immobilized, your back to his chest and his arms holding you tightly so you can’t squirm away, both of you stop. You both try to catch your breath, the sound of the water and your heavy breathing echoing off the pool walls. You can feel his growing erection pressing against you and you know how the rest of this will go. You’ve got an impressive resume of one night stand experience, have heard all the lines, so you’re prepared for whichever one he’s about to use. At least you think you are. “I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, “I don’t usually do stuff like this. Someone like you is new to me.” You’re about to roll your eyes when you notice his hands are shaking and it occurs to you that he must mean every word.
You hadn’t expected that. Not at all. This is different than those one night stands. He’s different. The scariest part is that this is new for you too. You don’t do play fighting in the pool. Even with Monoma there had been no magic in the relationship. It was a necessary work deal and then it morphed into something comfortable. When you invited Hawks to the bar you had just meant to drag him away for sex and then leave to go back to the gala the minute you both were satisfied. You’d weather Midoriya’s concerned look and Bakugo would high five you and then you’d forget about the mystery man with the red wings. You turn in his arms, your eyes meet his golden ones, and immediately your heartbeat is kicking in your chest. This is not that. This is more than that.
And that fucking terrifies you.
Before you can fully panic Hawks is kissing you with an intensity you can appreciate and a yearning you are shocked by but can relate to all the same. This is a one night deal. That’s how these things go. But there’s a small, traitorous part of you screaming that it doesn’t have to be this way. So you kiss him like this is the first of many to satiate that small part of you, but you also kiss him like it’s the last one ever because you know that’s the more likely option. You kiss him until kissing isn’t enough and your hands move to push his suit jacket off. He catches onto the memo quickly and removes his jacket easily before tossing it aside. He goes to remove his shirt and fumbles, Jesus Christ his hands are still shaking, so you replace his with yours and carefully begin to undo each button as he instead reaches to pull down the zipper of your dress. Between the two of you and your quirks it isn’t much longer until you’re both naked, pressed together, your clothes laid out on the side in the vague hope they’ll be drier by the time the two of you have to leave the haven you’ve created. You don’t even notice that Hawks is walking you backwards until you feel the pool ledge against your back but small details like that feel irrelevant when he’s got one hand on your waist to keep you steady and the other on your breast to thumb at your sensitive nipple.
“Up,” he commands and it sends a bit of a shiver down your spine as you obediently hop up onto the ledge. You expected him to join you but he doesn’t, instead grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. It’s interesting looking down on him like this but you think you could get addicted to the hungry look in his eyes. He slowly spreads your thighs apart, maintaining eye contact in a silent request for permission as you realize what he has planned for you. You give a short nod and then he’s diving in, his tongue immediately licking up along your folds. You shudder and your grip on the pool ledge tightens as he finds your clit and begins to lavish attention on it, licking at and sucking on the sensitive nub. You think you could get off on that alone but then he switches focus, not wanting to end things too quickly, as he instead begins to tongue fuck you like his life depends on it. You throw your head back and moan as you feel his tongue sliding in and out of you, his nose occasionally brushing over your still sensitive clit. He reaches one hand up to give your nipples some attention too and soon you can’t help the keening noises that spill from your lips unbidden. You card one hand through his hair and then grab onto some of the locks as you press him in deeper, helping guide him and that magic tongue of his exactly where you want it. It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to reach climax and the look of smug satisfaction on his face after has you hungry for more of him.
You’d let him be the boss so far but it’s your turn now. “I need you up here now bird boy,” you pant as you try to catch your breath, tugging on his hair to emphasize your point. He looks a little bewildered but you can tell by the way his dick twitches he’s not opposed. “Yes ma’am,” he replies cheekily as he climbs out of the pool. As soon as he’s on the side with you you move to straddle his hips and his hands instinctively go to your waist. “Ready?” you ask and he quickly nods his head. You don’t need any more encouragement as you line yourself up and then slowly sink yourself down onto his dick. For some reason the moment you’ve fully sunk down and he’s buried all the way inside you is incredibly overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, you think you might cry. It’s inexplicable, but when your eyes meet Hawks’ you can tell he feels exactly the same. You stare at each other with watery eyes as he whispers “This is...” and trails off, shaking his head as he struggles to find the words to describe this moment. “Heaven in hiding,” you finish for him and it’s like something clicks into place in both your hearts. “Yea. This is heaven in hiding,” he confirms and then he’s kissing you and there’s something there you’re too terrified to identify but you still give it back to him.
You start moving, lifting your hips slowly before sinking back down onto him again and the way he whimpers into your mouth is intoxicating. He lets you control the rhythm as you ride his dick, instead focusing on trailing kisses down your neck as he rubs and pinches your nipples. You’re so incredibly tight around him that he can barely stand it. So he allows himself this surrender, allows himself to be lost in you and wholly unrestrained for the first time in a very, very long time. “Can I-?” you ask with your hand reaching for, but stopping just shy of, his wings so he can see what you’re doing and decide first. He drops his hands to your waist to still you for a second as he stares at your face in wonder almost. “No one’s bothered to ask before,” he confesses and he hadn’t really realized how much that bothered him until now. “They should’ve,” you reply simply. He takes hold of one of your hands and brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles before guiding your hand to one of his wings. You carefully run your hands through the feathers beneath your fingertips, shocked at their softness, and notice the way he shivers at the touch. “Are they sensitive?” you ask curiously as you continue to stroke them. “Fuck. Yes baby, very,” he groans as he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder, his grip on your hips tightening. You experimentally clench your fist around a handful of the feathers and tug slightly, immediately his hips buck up into you and he groans. “It’s ok I’ve got you,” you tell him. He pulls back so he can finally look into your eyes again and quietly replies “I know.”
You’re not even sure who initiated it this time when the two of you begin kissing each other again. You start riding him again, the two of you quickly finding a tender rhythm together to move in sync. His wings flare and puff up behind him as if loving the sudden attention you’re giving them and as you continue to stroke through them Hawks brings one of his hands to your clit to provide extra stimulation to you too. Your moans echo back to you and it’s like the two of you are creating a symphony in this little safe haven you’ve created for yourselves in the hotel pool and it’s all so much. Almost too much. You can feel tears on your cheeks and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his, but you don’t care. You don’t care in the slightest you just need him, all of him. Finally you give a particularly strong tug on his feathers and it’s enough to have him crying out as he reaches his orgasm. The feeling of him filling you up and the gorgeous picture he makes is enough to send you over the edge as well and there’s nothing either of you can do besides hold each other tightly, moans choking out of your throats like sobs as you’re overwhelmed by your climaxes and the unnamed feelings bursting between the two of you.
When the feeling finally passes it leaves both of you somewhat drained as you pant to catch your breath. Hawks carefully reaches a hand to your cheek and brushes away your tears. You’re more than happy to return the favor. Turns out both of you had been crying. “Was that as insane and overwhelming for you as it was me,” Hawks asks quietly. “Yea... Yea it really fucking was,” you confess. “Good,” Hawks replies before pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. Both of you have the distinct thought, “I could stay like this forever,” at the same time, but it would seem the universe has other plans.
Your quiet moment is disturbed by the sound of an alarm blaring overhead. You both curse your luck but still are in no hurry to move. You carefully remove yourself from his dick, trying diligently to ignore how obscene it looks to watch his cum start to dribble out of you and how it feels like a loss for it not to stay. Hawks seems to be having similar thoughts but tears his eyes away as he goes to get dressed. You use your quirk to squeeze out as much water as you can from your dress without further damaging it. The alarm is still blaring and you’re both well aware you should be moving with more urgency but it’s hard to make yourselves leave the little world you created for yourselves in here. Once you’re both redressed you quietly clasp each other’s hands and finally leave the room.
The alarm is even louder in the hallway and it’s like the magic of the previous moment is shattered by it. “We probably should arrive separately. Avoid scandal and all that,” you say. “You’re right,” he admits. Neither of you let go of the other’s hand. Finally you sigh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, before slipping your hand from his and heading the opposite direction. You both jog away in a bid to exit the building and figure out what’s going on when a thought strikes you. You don’t know each other’s names. You decide it’s for the best. Hawks spins around to try and catch up to you and ask but you’re already gone. It feels like an ending.
It’s actually only the beginning.
Author’s Note: I typically try to keep the reader’s quirk nonspecific in my work because I know a lot of people have ideas of what they’d want their quirk to be if they were in the MHA universe but (y/n)’s quirk has plot relevance so I gave her a specific one. She can move objects with her mind (telekinesis) but she feels it almost like a physical sensation, as if there’s an invisible extension of herself reaching out to grab things. It’s why she can use it for something as specific as picking a lock. As y’all can see this one got away from me lol but I hope it’s worth the wait. OH ALSO the pool scene is inspired by the one from Baz Luhrman’s Romeo and Juliet.
Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff
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Fuck him up (if he hurts you)
Characters: Dabi, Fem.(Reader), Toga, Mr. Compress, Giran
Relationship: Dabi and (Reader)
A/N: Hey! I’m finally done with this one! Whoop! Whoop! It took a little while but I’m glad its done because to be honest...I really enjoyed writing this, but, I have other things that require my attention. Also! Happy belated bday Dabi!
As always, PLEASE REBLOG AND LIKE! (ALSO COME JOIN MY VALENTINES EVENT, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS CLICK HERE!)
TW: Threatening, Swearing and Cheating
Does anybody know the stages of getting over your cheating significant other?
It all starts out with denial- how bittersweet that filthy fucking word is-, although it doesn’t last long, when once you managed to eat at least five tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream whilst watching the last show of some shitty soap opera, the next stage comes to bite your ass, anger- also known as throwing or burning your exe’s belongings that they left; however, I prefer burning it (they won’t be able to sell it if they come back).
Once those first two (rather tough) stages fly pass, this third one was like hitting the jackpot for me, but probably not for you, as the mental gamble caused lots of sexually frustrated people to bargain- to play the dice, you shall, but even gamblers don’t use the ‘third time is the charm’ as its utter bullshit- and then--!
OH GOD, HERE COMES FIVE MORE TUBS OF BEN & JERRY’S ICECREAM! THIS ONE IS A REAL KICKER! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THE LIVING ROOM IS FUCKING FLOODING WITH DEPRESSION- Yup, that was you five tubs of ice cream ago, maybe some chocolate might help…
At last, when the cleaning crew arrived, and you managed to accept- with the sunshine glowing down on your skin after four long stages of shit- with the fresh thought of buying a couple dresses that you saw on sale from that one adorable itty bitty corner shop.
But I’m not like that.
And here’s why in (you guessed it) 5 stages.
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1. Discovery.
Rolling their shoulders backwards, a blanket fell backwards as a tall silhouette ghosted from the bedroom door that they left open.
When the bathroom light blinked to life, (y/n) faintly heard the screeching of the door shut on itself. Though, she knew her beloved boyfriend had to go to ‘work’, what she didn’t know was who made his phone ping at 7:15 in the morning.
Scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, blankets stuck to sweat-ridden skin as they coiled around her legs similarly to a snake and ensnared them to stay stuck and stationary. The plush pillows tried to lull her back to sleep. However, (y/n) wasn’t having any of it.
Reaching out to grab Dabi’s phone- even if he didn’t give you permission- the time was as you predicted, though the contents of his notifications bleeping up was something you didn’t predict. The background of his lock screen was something to behold as it was a picture of your concentrated form doodling in a sketchbook whilst a pale white cup stood beside two fresh slices of cake.
Shakily revealing the messaging app, there was around four or five unknown contacts, all listed under the people’s numbers.
Though one of them caught your eye.
Opening the chatroom, your free hand clutched the blankets.
Dabi is going to regret making you break the way you did that morning.
(He has no choice in doing so.)
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2. Kicking the asshole out.
“Toga…? C-can you come over, please.”
The TV presented the small-town news that had little to no intervention though that didn’t mould the female into a wish less mess where a gentle hand went to work and smooth out ensnared knots. “Are you okay now, (y/n)-chan?” You never heard Toga murmur before, but that’s the perks of being alive now.
(Y/n) released the trembling bubble of air out of her lungs and into the atmosphere, readying herself for that front door to open. Shaking your head to respond to Toga’s question, a small huff was released out of the other female’s chest.
The blonde female knew why you still weren’t okay.
Whoever walks through that door will have a profound effect on whatever will happen to (y/n).
However, with the slight nudge of her friend’s hand pinching the side of her sensitive waist, a yelp was released in surprise whereas the blonde villain giggled at the reaction. “Your so easy to scare, (y/n)-chan!” Toga loved to tease you, but in this time frame it wasn’t to make you feel uncomfortable but rather the opposite.
She wanted to make your thunder stricken heart rumble with rage in an unknown and bizarre way- but to also remind that you weren’t alone-, though, you had this bubbly and extra crazy best friend who brought over too many sweets for your stomach to handle alongside the annoyance that you hadn’t noticed Dabi’s strange and desolate nature.
As Toga picked up another opened bag of candy (I think they were ‘eclairs’), unwrapped the golden covering as the crinkling plastic fumbled like sparks dancing across the fingers in a tantalising rhythm. In an attempt to grab the bag, Toga was about to throw it across the room so you could get off her because, and I quote “You’re killing me with your weight!”, how lovely that compliment is for somebody who’s blood is like a glacier falling apart after a storm chipped the exterior and revealed the icy truth underneath.
And may God cover their eyes, as that chilling sharp edge at the tip of the glacier crumbles under Mother Nature’s will (so does the female when the familiar screech of the door revealing whoever is walking through reaches her ears).
Sluggishly dripping back onto the couch where at least three of the seven stocked up with fluff blankets- wrapped around drooped shoulders- had slid onto the floor, Toga made an effort to pick them up and stuff (piling) them next to the drowsy (y/n).
“I’m home, dollface!” A familiar voice hollered.
When both of the female’s heard that voice, there was no turning back to the past.
(Y/n) glanced to a duffel bag next to the couch, then glanced towards the teenager’s sinking rage as the blonde’s lips started to slip into a scowl.
A step almost turned into two, however, was held back by the puffy eyed female. “C-c-can I handle this…please?” They whimpered.
Toga really needs to gain a resistance to (y/n) cuteness when she’s sad.
Grabbing the duffel bag, two slippers shuffled (real smooth) around the couch to enter the hallway that led to the front door. Exactly where Dabi was about to take off his shoes.
“I recommend not taking your shoes off.” The pair of blue eyes looked up in confusion. “What? So, I can’t take off my own shoes in our home?” It sounded like a tease, but what if there was another meaning behind it?
Dabi, however, knew that familiar look of sharp-edges eyes where the glossy swirling of a singular emotion led to- and his teasing didn’t make the situation, he’s found himself in, any more light-hearted.
“This isn’t your home anymore,” Hissed (y/n), where (the fuck) did she get that attitude from?
“Who told you that you can throw me o—” The heavy duffel bag clutched in (y/n) clammy hands thud against Dabi’s chest, where his feet slid against the front door’s matt- his legs trembled at the impact the bag had on his chest- along with the rising cough that caught up to him after fleeing from a hero.
“Nobody—told me what to do.” Another sniff ensued, “But, I figured out the truth.” An eyebrow twitched upwards in anticipation as his hand bawled against his hip.
“Then tell me, what’s this big ass ‘truth’ you figured out?” Retorted the male with turquoise eyes watching her head droop towards the ground to hide something.
Raising it after a momentary pause, she glowered “You’re a bloody cheater, Touya.” When tears stained the red canvas again.
“Oh, so this is what it’s about…” Voice as nonchalant as shallow murky river water, “Do you even realise why I did it?” Rolling his eyes, two fingers wormed their way towards a special ring on her left hand before it hit the ground.
“I don’t want to know why.”
----------------------------------
3. Jealousy
It was sudden, quick, and loud how Toga came into your (lonely) apartment.
Bang went the door against the wall and crash went the multiple shoes from the shoe cabinet as they thudded against the floor.
“(Y/N)-CHAN! I HAVE GOOD NEWS!” Her shout was louder than the moans you would usually make when it was a pleasurable night with your (new) ex, however you shouldn’t dwell on past relationships.
Only moving your eyes slightly from the book gripped tightly in your hands, Toga sauntered over holding a suspiciously large bag, this only led one ping-pong ball bouncing back to another ping-pong ball within the crevasses of your mind.
Placing a ripped piece of paper in the book, it snapped shut, “Who did you kill?” questioned (y/n)- knowing that when Toga finds something, she will resort to violence, no matter the cost-, however the sweet smile presented as a defence for whatever action she committed was enough dull your concern.
“Not telling ya!” Then getting a knife out- wait, where did that even come from-, Toga stabbed into the black plastic bag and tore it open with many- I mean tons- of clothes sliding out of the bag and becoming a miniature avalanche in the small space that is your living room.
“…H-how?” Sputtered (y/n), Toga replied: “Big sis’ Mags let us borrow some of her clothes!”
(Y/n) can only imagine how Toga managed to convince Magne to let her borrow some clothes off her, and by clothes, (y/n) could only assume its short skirts and dresses.
“But!” Added Toga, “we have to wait for Mr.C to pop up!”
Great, even Mr. Compress knows about your breakup with Dabi.
“Fine.”
.
.
.
Sitting pretty on a kitchen chair, a small brush lightly dabbed a small hint of colour against the rooftop of your eyes. “Why are we doing this, again?” Murmured the relaxed female as a small dress laid boringly over the torso where it edged closely to showing the backside of her thighs.
Chuckling in response to her inquisitive comment, the villain grabbed liquid eyeliner, although it was smacked out of his hand and replaced with pencil eyeliner matched with a scowl from his subject.
“Liquid eyeliner is cursed, don’t get that shit near me.”
“My, my, even somebody as classy as I wouldn’t offensively smack such an object—”
Oh boy, here we go again.
“Shush, I could easily get Big Sis Magne to beat your ass if you use that tone with me, sir.”— “Oh heavens no! I think Magne would pick my side out of the two of us!”— “Oh really now?”— “I believe—”
Another door slammed open and in stormed Toga in a confident catwalk down the hallway just to profoundly exclaim; “NOPE! SHE’LL CHOOSE ME AS THE CHOSEN ONE!”
Cue the laughter.
.
.
.
Before the sun was ready to roll itself out of the closet, the patchwork villain made his way under the thick cover of darkness to a certain broker’s office.
Pushing it open to let the light of the office room scream in his eyes before he even had the chance to speak, the older male that greeted him, offered him a seat.
“Hey Dabi, what brings you here to my humble abode?” Giran spoke out as the glistening cup of coffee placed in front of the wanderer reflected the light into its murky brown ripples. “I need you to trace this number to its origin, and quick.” Anxiously sliding his phone to showcase your number, the broker twitched his brow upwards.
“First and foremost, where’s the cash?” A thick wad of yen slammed against the table.
“Happy now?”— “Very much so!” Scowling at Giran’s happy chirp, the broker worked his magic on the burner phone to effectively trace the number back to your location, where Dabi soon enough made his way towards the destination you were at.
He doesn’t know why he’s doing this…
Nor why he still keeps the ring…
However, he knows what he’s going to say next.
--------------------------------
4. Anger
Simmering and low crackles of something in the kitchen of your apartment awoke the female from her drunken slumber.
What was being made and why does it smell so familiar? The waft of the meal being created swarmed the first stimulant within the hungover mind of yours truly as the wavering warmth rustled around your legs in an unspoken persuasive whisper to stay in bed.
However, curiosity killed the cat and also brought it back.
Two feet tapped the floor in alerted silence.
Tiptoeing across the room, a hand clenched the side of the doorway when two eyes surfed the surroundings outside of her den.
The sizzling stopped, with a small snap of fire going out.
At the same time this happened, it was then when she figured out who was in her kitchen: Him.
Him, with his tall stance that could make for a ladder to climb on or him with his broad shoulders that look like they were bricks squished underneath his skin, where his paired raven hair familiarly spiked up.
“What are you doing here?” If it wasn’t for the delicious food he was making, then you would’ve killed him on sight. A lacklustre glance at the female, he uses one of her spatulas to move the bacon from the frying pan onto a plate with plump golden coloured scrambled eggs.
“You were drunk, I brought you home, and am now making your hangover breakfast.” Placing the plate next to your arm resting against the counter, with another glance in your direction, Dabi made a finishing blow in the words of: “Since you can’t cook for shit.”
Oh boy, he knows you too well to expect your immediate reaction: anger.
From the built-up rage that started to stack up from days of unrest (and being bloated because of the several tubs of Bens & Jerry’s ice cream), it all started to splutter out of control.
“Oh-- So now your fucking attacking me after the shit you put me through?”
“Why should you know?” (Y/n) turned sour at his comment, “’Why’ I should know?!”
From the nearest counter, there was an empty glass. You took advantage of the potential weapon held it up ready for it to slam against the ground.
“(Y/n) -- put the glass down.” Warned the patchwork male.
With the tips of her ears feeling ever so hot, it felt like the pressure escalating within her ears caused only for her protests to be heard even through the pause of silence.
“(Y/n).” A small twitch of one of his feet made (y/n) flinch backwards. “Com’ on, I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He took another step toward, her grip tightened on the glass cup.
“Do you even know why I’m here?”
“No,” Moving her hand higher, Dabi took another step forward, (Y/n) took another step back, “And I don’t want to kno—” Blubbering a bit of salvia as the female attempted to speak, though it was incoherently heard through squished cheeks.
“Listen, for fucks sake,” Electric blue eyes pierced into your soul like a spear, it’s quite hilarious: You once loved those blue eyes of his, you once worshipped the feeling of his eyes raking down your nude body before- as they took in the sight of pleasure squirming and tightening underneath those diligently flexible fingers-, but those days are over.
He can worship your goddamn forgiveness if he’s going to restrain you like this.
----------------------------------------
5. Forgiveness
“That’s what happened.”
Two legs of your own were crossed over each other like two birds of a feather.
“Are you being honest with me?”
His hand tapped the table as he sat across from you.
“Yes, I’m being honest.”
Breathing inwards and releasing a slow, practiced breath. She glanced at the male’s awaiting expression.
“Okay…”
Biting his ruined lip, the raven-haired male let out a breath of relief.
“Will you forgive me?”
She wishes she could.
“I’m not so sure yet…”
Dabi looked to the side to see (y/n) with both of his eyes.
“But, I’ll give you one last try.”
Taglist:
@glitterfreezed, @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku, @haredabi, @orenjineki
JOIN THE VALENTINES WRITING EVENT HERE!
#tw: swearing#TW: Cheating#Fem! reader#dabi mha#dabi x reader#dabi imagine#dabixyou#Dabi lives rent free in my mind#mild yandere! reader#dorki talks like a dabi simp#dabi lives rent free in my mind#villain x reader#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#bnhaxyou#mha#mha x reader
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Sub Rosa [87]
iii. false gods
Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: violence, fighting, angst, mentions of drowning, blood, language.
Summary: with your ticket off of Skyring destroyed, desperation sinks in...
a/n: this is one of my favorites :) the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!
previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist
As you kneel, staring at the shattered pieces of the memory viewer, you hear Gabriel gasp, “Do you realize what you've done?”
The man’s raspy voice answers, “I couldn't let you leave! For all mankind! You don't understand!”
And in that moment, you swear you see red. You feel nothing other than the anger that pulses through you, white hot. It heats your blood until you're sure you’re boiling, a volcano just ready to explode. And the man's insistence that you don't understand when it’s clearly him that doesn't understand? It’s enough to make you erupt.
You rise to your feet and cross the room lightning fast, before anyone can even process your movements. You catch the prisoner off guard, which makes it easier for your first punch to land. And the second. And the third. You feel your knuckles split when they make contact with his cheekbone, but you keep punching, your black blood mixing with his red blood. You don't stop swinging when you hear the others yelling your name and begging for you to stop, and you don't stop when someone grabs your arm and tries to hold it still. You just shake them off and swing again, but your fist doesn't land this time, because someone suddenly wraps their arms around you and lifts you off the ground, carrying you backwards, creating space between you and the madman.
You see Hope and Echo staring at you as you are carried backwards, and you know that Gabriel is the one restraining you. You kick and flail and scream, trying to wiggle free and reach the prisoner again, prepared to keep punching him until there is no anger left and the fire in your body cools. But Gabriel just holds you tighter, and Hope yells to be heard over your screaming, “Stop! He can't help us off this planet if he's dead!”
“Help us?” The words practically leave your mouth as a growl as your anger turns feral. You still your movements long enough to direct a glare Hope’s way. This time, you’re sure she is the one thankful that looks can't kill, because yours are nothing short of murderous in this moment. Your voice steadily rises as you yell, “He just destroyed our one way off this planet! Does he look like he can help us?”
Everyone turns to glance at him, the prisoner’s face a mix of red blood and black blood, his breathing slightly labored. And you know that at any other moment, the regret and shame would start to kick in now. But in this moment, Wanlida is in control, and she doesn't care that he's injured. She just wants him gone.
You start to fight and try to free yourself from Gabriel’s arms again, and your movements must spook the man, because he takes off running out the back door, disappearing into the trees. Frustrated with Gabriel’s iron grip, you lean forward then send your head back, headbutting him. Your skull makes contact with his brow bone, and Gabriel lets out a grunt of pain before dropping you straight onto your butt. You don't even take a second to check on him before scrambling to your feet and running out the front door, ignoring the calls of your friends behind you. This time, you're not searching for the prisoner, because your feet are taking you in the opposite direction. You’re not even sure of where you're going until you break free from the treeline and your eyes land on the lake in front of you, a faint green glow beneath the water's surface.
You can hear Gabriel, Echo, and Hope calling your name and clambering through the woods after you, and without another moment of hesitation, you take off running again, closing the short distance between you and the waters edge. You slosh through the first few feet, and then you take a deep breath and dive under, opening your eyes to look around you. The green glow of the Anomaly is straight ahead, and you begin your frantic swim towards it, each stroke of your arms and kick of your legs taking you deeper and deeper into the lake.
You swim until your legs feel tired and your arms are sore, and still the Anomaly seems no closer than when you first jumped into the water. You redirect yourself and start swimming straight down, fighting through the fatigue so you can get to Bardo. As you swim, you think only of Bellamy and Clarke, using them as your motivation to get off of Skyring, because five years here, means five years without them. You’ve already spent six years without Bellamy when everyone left you and Clarke behind, and that was agonizingly long enough. You hated it then, and you don't want to do it again now. The only time you spent without Clarke was when you were locked up in the Skybox, and then the few months she left after Mount Weather, and all of these moments only serve to remind you how important it is for you to get back to her. Because the two of you need each other. You're the twins, the Griffin Girls, the moon and the stars, Wanheda and Wanlida, Castor and Pollux, Azrael and Azazel. You need each other more than anything, because you're stronger together, and she probably doesn't even know you’re missing right now. You need to get back to her before she realizes you're gone, before she has to experience the heartbreak of losing her twin right after losing your mother. You can’t do that to her. You won't do that to her.
Which is why you keep swimming.
Your ears start to pop as you get deeper, the pressure squeezing your body. Your lungs start to ache and burn, the oxygen rapidly running out, and you turn to glance back at the surface of the lake. At this point, you’ve made more progress than you realize. You're deep down, down below in the dark part of the lake, the only light now coming from the Anomaly. If you turn around now, you might not even make it back up for air.
Which is why you keep swimming, your body moving towards the green glow.
The loss of oxygen starts to become painful, the dull ache now akin to a fiery burn, your lungs feeling like they've shriveled up and died without the air they need. But the Anomaly is so close now, and you swear you can just reach out and touch it, if you only swim a
few
more
feet.
But those few feet turn into a few meters, and those meters turn to miles, and suddenly you realize that your vision is starting to blur. Everything is getting fuzzy around you, and it's not because of the water. There is no oxygen left in your lungs, and your body starts to twitch, unable to process life or movement without the precious substance. Your vision starts to go black, beginning at the edges and then moving towards you slowly, and you reach your hands up to your necklace, clutching the moon charm in your grip, and letting the finger of your right hand rest on the ring on your left. You let your eyes close, accepting the death that approaches you, dying with the knowledge that you really tried everything you could to get back to Clarke and Bellamy. You swam until there was nothing left for you but the bright green pulse of the Anomaly below you.
You feel a sense of peace wash over you as the darkness rushes in, the last few inches filling your vision until it is all you know. It stretches out in front of you, endless like the sky, and you know your time has come.
-
You feel someone collapse on top of you, waking you from the darkness.
You groan, your mind and body only asleep for a few hours before whatever rude awakening has just occurred. The body wiggles, trying to get your attention, and you pry your eyes open with another groan, your eyes landing on someone stretched across your lower half.
Bellamy Blake is laying across your legs, a huge smile on his face.
You grab your blanket and tug it up and over your face, closing your eyes again and inviting the darkness of sleep back to you. But Bellamy has different plans, because he stands from the bed and yanks the blanket off of you, exposing you to the cold air in your room. Your eyes fly open and you glare at your boyfriend, who stands holding the blanket with a mischievous grin. “Bellamy, give it back. Lincoln kicked my ass in training this morning, and then Kane kicked my ass in guard training this afternoon. I’m tired, I want to sleep.”
“No. No sleep.”
You roll your eyes before closing them, turning away from him and curling into a ball in an attempt to keep yourself warm. But Bellamy grabs your ankles and tugs, pulling you towards the edge of the bed, and you let out a shriek of surprise. “Bellamy, what the hell are you doing?”
He smiles down at you, completely unbothered by your grumpy attitude. “It’s what we’re doing.”
“We’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“No, we’re going swimming.”
You give him a confused look. “I don't know how to swim.”
“I know, that’s why I’m going to teach you!”
Your confusion only deepens. “Now? In the middle of the night?”
“It’s the only time we both have free these days. Besides, you never know when it’ll come in handy.”
You stare up at your boyfriend’s eager face, noting the clear excitement he has over this prospect, and you know you’d do anything to see his joy continue, especially these days. With Clarke gone and the burden of Mount Weather weighing heavily on both of you, you can’t resist the desire to see him happy. Which is why you hide your smile and groan back, “Fine, let’s go swimming.”
Bellamy’s smile grows wider and he scoops you out of bed, setting you on the ground before handing you your clothes. You dress quickly and the two of you slip from your shared room and out of the camp without any issues, heading down to the lake that borders your home. There’s talks to extend the fence around the camp to one day include this lake, but for now, it sits just outside, bordered by the home of the sky people.
When you and Bellamy get to the water’s edge, he quickly strips until he's left in nothing but his underwear, and without hesitation he dives into the lake headfirst, his body arching through the air in a way that seems so beautiful to you. His head pops back up a second later, his curls clinging to his skin and the big grin still on his face. “Your turn.”
“Yeah, right.”
He laughs, light and happy, and you think about how you rarely hear that laugh these days. Just another thing the Mountain took. Bellamy senses the dark cloud you've invited to hang over you, always so eager to appear at the thought of Mount Weather, and he shakes his head and calls out, “None of that. Take your clothes off!”
You laugh and quip, “This is just an elaborate ruse to get me naked, isn't it?”
“Maybe.” He draws the word out, before the two of you start to laugh, the happiness chasing away the darkness of Mount Weather, at least for a little while. You strip quickly until you’re left in your undergarments, and then you stand just at the edge of the lake, looking at Bellamy with skepticism. “Now what?”
He swims towards you, walking the last few feet and coming to stop in front of you. He holds out his hand, his voice soft and serious. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.” Your tone is just as serious, and he knows you mean it. You take his hand and he walks backwards towards the water again, leading you into the lake until the water reaches your waist. You feel your anxiety spike a little with each step you take into the water, but you meant it when you told Bellamy you trust him with your life. You know he won't let you drown. So when he leans down to scoop you up in his arms, you let out a little laugh and let him. The two of you lock eyes, and his voice is still soft, trying not to break the serenity of the moment. “Lie back. I’m not going to let go of you.”
You nod and lean backwards until the back of your head is in the water, your hair fanning out around you. Bellamy holds you in place as your body bobs along the surface of the water, and after a moment you realize that you’re floating. You turn slightly to lock eyes with your boyfriend again, a wide smile on your face, and he's looking at you with awe and adoration. You feel your face heat up beneath his gaze, and you try to break the seriousness of the moment by asking, “Wait, I've been with you almost every day since we landed. When the hell did you learn how to swim?”
Bellamy lets out a laugh, short and light, before shaking his head a little, amusement lighting up his face. “Believe it or not, I learned on the Ark.”
“You learned how to swim on a spaceship in the middle of the sky?”
He can hear the disbelief in your voice, and he nods. “I taught myself how to swim in our bathtub.”
Laughter takes over your body as you picture Bellamy teaching himself how to swim in less than a foot of water in his bathtub, the mental image making you wish you could have seen the real moment with your own two eyes. For now, you just have to let your imagination run wild, allowing the laughter to roll through you, nearly taking you under the water. Bellamy's arms keep you on top of the water as he watches you laugh, your amusement bringing a smile to his face. When your laughter turns into soft giggles, he gives you a fake serious look. “I need you to focus, Miss Griffin. You have to master floating before you can learn to swim.”
You give him a similar serious look, using it to hide your smile. “My apologies, Mr. Blake. I’m ready to try again.”
You lean back again, letting yourself be weightless as your body rises in the water, supported by Bellamy’s arms. After a quiet moment, he whispers, “Good. I’m going to let go now, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right at your side.”
He must sense the flash of fear that has washed over you, because he adds, “Just look up at the sky and focus on the moon. Don't think about it, just let your body do the work.”
You let yours eyes search the sky until you find the moon, a pretty crescent shape, shining her pretty light down on you. You focus on her as Bellamy slips his arms from beneath you, but as promised, his body stays close to your own, his warmth still finding you in the cool lake. Your eyes stay locked on the sky, the darkness of the night the only thing you can see. From one edge of your vision to the other, there is nothing but stars and the moon. As your body floats on the surface of the water, your ears underwater, muffling the sound of the night, it’s easy to think that you're swimming in the sky. Floating with the stars, weaving between them, part of the sky, the way you always dreamed you would be.
-
Your eyes fly open and you take a sputtering breath, before you turn to the side and cough, water spewing from your mouth and onto the dirt beside you. You cough and wheeze for a few moments, until you're sure the water has left your lungs, and then you collapse back onto the dirt again, your eyes landing on the open sky. Stretched above you, arching across the sky like a halo, is a set of rings.
Your mind is already starting to question your whereabouts, your suspicions confirmed when Gabriel’s worried face leans into your view, a cut running through his eyebrow, already scabbing with black blood. You grimace a little, remembering the headbutt that gave him the injury, and he must notice, because he shrugs, “Can’t even feel it.”
Echo’s face appears on your other side, looking down at you with concern. “Do you know where you are?”
“Skyring.”
A third voice chimes in, “Do you know what happened?”
You try to sit up, struggling a little until Echo and Gabriel pull you into a sitting position. “Yeah, a bunch of people from a different planet stole my fiance, and we got stranded here after a crazed man that talks to dead people smashed our one way ticket out of here.”
“And you nearly drowned.”
Your teeth chatter slightly, your hair clinging to your face as you level a glare at Hope. “Yes, and I nearly drowned.”
“That was stupid. Octavia was here for ten years, six of which she spent trying to reach the pretty light at the bottom of the lake. She never drowned herself though.”
Your glare deepens, your embarrassment starting to set in. Hope pulls herself to her feet, glancing at the others. “Come on, we have a lot of work to do if we’re going to spend five years here.”
Gabriel and Echo hesitate, both of them looking at you with worry, but you shrug them off. “I’m fine.”
Gabriel levels a look at you. “Hope’s right, you nearly died. You should take it easy for the rest of the day.”
You nod, too exhausted to fight him on it. With your agreement in place, he holds a hand out to you, and he and Echo pull you to your feet, helping you walk back to the cabin. Gabriel leaves you at the edge of the garden with Echo, disappearing into the house briefly before returning with a blanket. He drapes it over your shoulders, your teeth chattering harder than you realized. He leaves to help Hope, and Echo stays with you for a while, clearly worried about leaving you on our own. You can tell she isn't sure what to say, obviously unfamiliar with the type of desperation that leaves you willing to make stupid decisions that might get you killed. But after a while, she can tell you’re craving some time to yourself, so she too leaves, though she makes sure to linger close, in case you decide to bolt again.
But you don't move. You stay solidly rooted in place, unmoving for a while, your thoughts practically eating you alive. You are stuck on Skyring, truly stuck, all of your options spent. The only way off is when the crazy man gets to leave. But until then, you’re stuck here. The thoughts that you had while swimming to the Anomaly come flying back to you. Five years on Skying means five years with no Bellamy and no Clarke. They likely won't even notice you're gone. They won't feel the passage of time without you, but you will. You will feel each passing second that you spend separated from the two most important people in your life. The thought is agonizing.
Also agonizing is the thought that you nearly drowned trying to reach them both, almost leaving them alone in the world without you. And you know now that if you want to save them, you need to be smarter. No more hasty decisions that result in near death experiences. You need to be calculating and calm. No more emotional choices. No more thinking with your heart. Your head is the one making the rules now.
You were the one that dove into the water, but Wanlida was the one that was dragged out, still and unbreathing. And when Gabriel brought you back to life, it was Wanlida that opened her eyes. She’s here with you now, hanging in the background, leaving you feeling cold and icy and empty. She’s ready to take over, ready to make the decisions for you. She knows that your heart will always rule you, but Wanlida? She’s ruled by her head. She doesn’t feel pain or loss or sadness. She calculates and decides, bringing death to all who stand in her way.
That's why you sit at the edge of the group, ignoring the light banter of the others behind you, your Grounder knife now in hand. You grab a discarded garden tool that lays nearby, and use it to add notches to the list of your kills. One line for Asher, who nearly killed you and nearly killed your twin. One line for the disciple that almost shot Hope on your way to the Anomaly. Your total count now up to 13, and that’s just kills from this knife.
When you start to add up all the kills Wanlida has helped you make, the number grows larger than you can stand, and you stop, pretending it's because you lost count. But really it's because you’re starting to wonder if you can really do better when Wanlida lives inside you. You can't get rid of her now, because you need her to save Bellamy. You need her strength and willingness to kill, but who will you be if you accept that help? Can you come back from that? Can you come back from her?
-
As soon as Clarke gets back from school, she makes a beeline past you, heading straight for the bathroom you share. When she runs past, you don't miss the tears that streak down your twin’s face, or the sob she tries to stifle. But by the time you make it to the bathroom door, it’s locked with you one one side and Clarke on the other. You knock tentatively, your voice soft. “Clarke? What’s wrong?”
She doesn't answer, but you can hear her quiet sobs from the other side of the door, and your anxiety grows, wanting to know what happened. “Let me in, shining star. Talk to me.”
Her crying softens for a minute, but you can't hear anything else from inside the bathroom, and your fear spikes until you hear the click of the lock receding. You twist the knob and tentatively push the door open, your twin somehow back on the other side of the bathroom, tucked in the corner, her knees pulled to her chest, her face hidden from view. You still don't know what happened, but you get the sense that Clarke doesn't want to talk about it, at least not yet. So you do the only thing you can think to make her feel better, and you start to draw up a bath.
You know you shouldn't. The Ark has water allotments, even the Privileged, though they tend to be more lax with your group. But your twin is upset and she doesn't want to talk about it, and it's the only thing you can think to do. So you run some quick math in your head, and you think you can make up for the loss of water if you skip your next few showers. You never see anyone besides your family anyways, so it’s not like it really matters.
You fill the tub as much as you can before it makes you anxious, hoping it’s hot enough to do the trick. Warm water is never a promise on the Ark, it’s more like a surprise. Sometimes the heaters work, sometimes they don't. Today is one of those days where thankfully, they seem to work really well. With the water warm enough, you walk over to your sister and drop down in front of her. “Get in the tub, I’ll be over in a second.”
She looks up at you, her face puffy and tear stained, before she weakly nods and moves over to the tub, quickly undressing with her back to you. You turn away and walk over to the sink and drop to your knees, reaching for a loose panel near the floor, prying it off and moving it aside. There, tucked away in a hidden spot, is the last of your special soap.
It was something your dad managed to get for you, though you have no idea how, because you didn't even think they made soap like this on the Ark. Most Ark soap is practical, made out of whatever they have on hand, pressed into lumpy bars that don't smell great, but don't necessarily stink either. They just smell like..Ark soap. There's no other way to describe it.
But this soap? This soap is special. It’s smooth, and unlike the gray green blob of Ark soap, it’s pale blue. It smells like vanilla, and your father etched a moon onto the top before gifting it to you for your 13th birthday. Your parents both said 13th birthdays are a big deal, which is why Clarke got her nicest art set yet. You don't have any specific hobbies like Clarke does, and your dad said he wasn't sure what to get you until he discovered the soap, and once he saw it, he knew it was perfect. You have treasured this bar of soap, using it as sparingly as possible over the last year and a half, because you rarely have access to nice things. You rarely have access to anything. Still, this is important. Clarke is upset, and this soap is magic, you’re sure of it. It has always cheered you up on bad days.
You take the soap back over to the tub, grabbing a small cup along the way, and you glance at Clarke, who is now situated in the warm water. You sit on the edge of the tub and use the cup to gently pour water over her hair, wetting it well. Then you grab the last of your soap and rub it between your hands, creating a lather, which you transfer onto Clarke's head. You massage the soap into her hair, making sure to cover every strand, using every last bit of soap that you have. As soon as Clarke gets a whiff of the smell, she whispers, “Your special soap.”
Her voice is raspy from crying, but you ignore it and nod, before you realize that she can't see you. You whisper back, “You need it more than I do.”
She’s quiet for a minute and you start to rinse the soap from her hair carefully before she breaks her silence. “Do you remember Katie?”
“The girl that you like?”
Clarke nods weakly, and you continue rinsing before she continues talking. “I told her I liked her today.”
You suspect the response wasn't a good one, but you know Clarke is waiting for you to say something, so you ask, “What did she say?”
“She said I was a selfish, privileged snob and she would never like someone like me.” Clarke starts to cry again, the tears falling down her face and landing in the bathtub beneath her. “I just don't understand what happened. Two days ago she was holding my hand during lunch, and today she’s calling me a snob.”
You squeeze Clarke’s shoulder in comfort. “She doesn't know what she’s missing, Clarke. You’re the least selfish person I know, and you're not a privileged snob. I don't know what happened or why she's acting this way, but you're the best person I know. You're a shining star, bright and brilliant, and one day Katie will realize that she's missing out, but it'll be too late.”
Clarke nods, her crying already starting to slow down, your words bringing her comfort. She glances at you over her shoulder, meeting your eyes for the first time since she got home. “Thank you, la lune.”
“I’ll always be here for you, Clarke. I’d do anything for you, no matter what.”
She smiles a little, her voice sounding stronger when she mutters, “Stronger together.”
You smile back and repeat, “Stronger together.”
-
next chapter
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Tom Holland - Our fairytale
Is this another disney-Tom fic? Yes it it. I’m masking my inactivity with another piece of fluff in Disney World. If you like this one, make sure to check Lost kid and True love kiss.
Plot: that story where two characters of a movie fall in love, or in this case two actors portraying those characters fall in love, even if they don’t belong to the same fairy tale
or
Tom is prince Eric and you’re Belle, and he’s just a jealous bean.
“Mommy, mommy! It’s prince Eric!”
A little red haired girl, that was probably wearing a wig not that well put, pulled her mother’s hand behind her and gripped harder the drawings’ book she has been carrying around all day. Her objective had been clear since she had woken up that morning; to meet all the characters that appeared in her drawings and make them sign the pictures. She had too a purple princess dress with small seashells and a small purse that was all decoration.
Tom kneeled down just as the girl reached him. Her eyes looked as if they could burst out of their pockets, jumping up and down in the spot of excitement. The mother, a middle age woman that looked done with the whole park, gave Tom a side glance to check he was no depredator and took her phone with her free hand.
“Hi!” she screeched, loud even above all the noise of the park that day. “I’m Marleen!”
“Oh, what a beautiful name!” Tom said in a high-pitched voice. “And what a beautiful girl!”
“Thanks” she giggled and twisted her body around the mother’s hand. “This is not my real hair, my mommy bought it for me”
“Well, it’s really pretty” Tom smiled warmly. “Are you enjoying your day in the park?”
The question led to a monologue from the little girl about all the characters she had met so far, and a thoughtful look through her drawings. Her smile was easily contagious, and Tom didn’t mind staying 20 long minutes under the sun, crutched in front of that cute girl. He commented every drawing and even made up some stories about the characters in them. The mother kept herself to the phone, not listening to the conversation, and Tom felt himself traveling to a different world.
Every time a kid asked for him, he left the rest of his life aside and became Eric, the prince of the little mermaid that had a charming smile and lived with Ariel in a big palace. Tom had been working as that character for almost five months, and he never got tired. There were too many good things that came with it; the smiles, the excitement and the fantasy he got to live meanwhile.
He was in the middle of a story about Ursula when Marleen seemed to see something behind him, and before he got time to turn around, she had already recovered and emitted another loud screech.
“Belle!!”
Tom was suddenly pushed aside when Marleen rushed past him and attached herself to another person’s legs. He didn’t have to look up to know it was you who had stolen the attention of the girl, but he wasn’t at all afraid. Once more, the mother looked poorly interested in the situation, and went back to her previous business after checked who was her daughter talking to.
Again, Marleen presented herself and explained who she was dressed as. You looked as interested as Tom in the story, though Tom ignored it in favour of staring at you. You were wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that fell down your legs, barely touching the ground. There was a flashy necklace on your chest and a pearly ring on your finger. You weren’t the princess that used more make-up, yet Tom thought the soft red lipstick and the barely there Rimmel was perfect.
“Can you sign my drawing too?” Marleen asked, already opening her book. She shoved it in front of you and turned to look at Tom. “My friends are going to be so envious! I’m gonna tell them I met Belle and prince Eric!”
“If you are quick, you can meet Cinderella in the main square” you said as you scribbled on the page. “I heard she has brought some special friends with her”
“Mommy did you hear that?!?”
Tom barely noticed her arms circling around his legs before she took off running again, her mother screaming behind her. He chuckled as the pair disappeared in the sea of the people. It was only mid-day, and if they were thinking about staying until close-up time, he doubted the mother would be able to keep up.
A soft hand made its way to his, sneaking as if it was a secret. And in part, it was; because prince Eric was supposed to be with Ariel, and you had strict orders about sticking to the characters until the end of the day. You rubbed your face against his blue jacket, half wishing you would be alone at the moment.
Finally, Tom intertwined your hands together and gave yours a small squeeze. Your break was close, and if you were lucky you could still find some spot in the shadow to hide from the torturous sun.
“I was watching you way before she noticed me, you know” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him. “You’re so good with them, and you look so cute”
“I’m not cute, I’m carrying a sword and I’m a prince” Tom chuckled, not moving from his spot. “You’re amazing, too. And beautiful – god, I swear they might want to remake the film and change the ending, because I can’t take my eyes off you with that dress”
“Aren’t you a gentleman, my prince. Do you say that to every princess here?”
“Only you. And Cinderella, of course”
You smacked his arm playfully, and in return, you were met with his lips on you. If someone saw you, you would probably have a lot of problems with your boss. He was very, very strict on the no-dating policy, or at least not kissing in the park.
Instead of pushed him away, you put your other hand across his chest and started playing with the black buttons of the vest he was wearing. Both of you were sweaty and spending time of your break, that was already short. Yet Tom didn’t push you away either, just angled his head so that the kiss wasn’t that awkward. He resisted the urge to stretch himself on the tip toes because you were taller than him, wearing just a small heel.
You pulled back when oxygen became short, and Tom just leaned again to peck your lips, swallowing your giggled.
“What’s got you so clingy?” you managed to say between quick kisses. “Someone’s gonna see us”
“And they won’t care, they’ve have seen us before” Tom pressed his lips against you once more.
“No, really” you pushed him a little bit. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, everything good. Just missed you, darling”
“Since this morning?” you raised an eyebrow when you got the idea why Tom was that clingy. “Or since you learned that I have a show today?”
Tom scoffed for an answer and you knew you were right. You both had talked about it – that you had to kiss other people for the job, and even act romantic about them. While in a normal day you didn’t have to do much with your partner, every week a Disney movie would get a show in the main castle of the park, and that week was Beauty and the Beast. Dancing, singing, wearing costumes – and following the original story, that said that Belle and Beast kissed at the end of the show.
He wasn’t really angry, he never was. And neither was you when he had to swoop Ariel off her feet and kiss her while fireworks ran behind them. But you had your days where it was hard, and Tom had a hard time saying he was jealous of a man who wore the Beast costume.
“You can always fight him with that sword of yours” you smiled at the blush on his cheeks. “But it might turn out bad, since it’s made of plastic”
“Shut up” Tom croaked out, confidence gone. “I have every right to be jealous, you’re kissing him almost every day! And – he get to slow dance with you, and kiss you, and –“
“And you’re the one who goes back home with me when the show is over” you interrupted him before he got carried away. “We can slow dance in the living room, and we kiss all the time even if we can get in trouble for it. You don’t have to be jealous”
Tom didn’t say anything else, just looked away. He knew you were right, that he didn’t have any right to be jealous and that he was pushing it by kissing you in the park. But at the same time, his brain was having a hard time walking past the need of hugging you close and flipping it off in the distance to the guy who played the Beast.
“If you want to, after the show we can go out for dinner. Tomorrow is our free day” you wrapped yourself around Tom, noses touching again.
“As long as I get to pick you up from the dressing room”
“As long as you don’t glare too much at Michael and don’t flip him off again” you half joked, thinking about how in your last show Tom had been giving your partner the puppy, angry eyes the whole time.
“Then we’re getting pizza and we’re watching a movie” Tom finished, kissing you once more, quick, time. “And I’m choosing everything”
“You’re lucky I love you”
If Marleen, the little girl that had been talking to Tom, saw Belle and prince Eric kissing and holding hands, she didn’t say anything. She just watched with an excited smile how them both leaned for a kiss once more, truly believing that she was a princess and would find his own prince.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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Errare Humanum Est - Pt.12
Alice in Wonderland
Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2)
x Supernatural
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3500
Summary:
The cat’s outta bag and ‘Nat’ really isn’t sure she likes it. Perhaps she prefered it the other way around. There’s a lot more emotions in the air now.
Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, amnesia, swearing, bit of a metafiction, mentions of tumblr-like sites ;) ...and possibly messed up format
Story masterlist
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Sam and Dean seemed more than a bit dumb-struck when you finally emerged from the bathroom, which had you shift uncomfortably. Now they were looking at you like the rest of the café and wasn’t that just perfect. You were regretting choosing to dress like the Winchesters now; maybe that was why people here kept staring at you. Except it didn’t explain why Dean and Sam were staring too all of sudden.
Despite their expressions, Sam shook his head as if snapping from some kind of daze, his eyes again displaying concern for your well-being, asking about it. To be fair, it was a very valid question.
“Hey. You okay?”
No. “Yeah. Just… dunno. The staring doesn’t make me feel good,” you muttered, taking the seat next to Sam.
It was only partly the truth. While you didn’t have any solid lead on your soulmate, being here, possibly closer to him… it made you as excited as nervous. Restless, definitely.
“Well, it helped a lot,” Sam announced, sounding almost cheery. It got you shift your gaze to stare at him, your expression no doubt as puzzled as you felt at such statement. Huh? Sam smiled softly. ”We might have found your soulmate.”
“Really?!” you yelped, quickly covering your mouth when you realized how loud your voice went. But frankly, you didn’t care much about that. Because… WHAT?! When? How? “How is that possible?”
Sam’s gaze travelled to the counter, where the orange-haired girl who had welcomed your trio was smiling your direction subtly. You lowered your eyes, your mind racing. What did that woman had to do with it? Had you known her? From… before? Did she know your soulmate?
“Yeah. He’s Captain America,” Dean dropped the bombshell bluntly.
You saw clearly that they expected you to have a flash of recognition in your eyes at least, but it wouldn’t come. You had no clue what they were talking about. Was that some kind of a… special army rank? Or… a stage name for an artist or something?
God, you hoped it wasn’t a stripper’s name.
That idea made blood rush into your cheeks, only a dumbfounded noise leaving your mouth.
“Huh?”
“Right,” Sam cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. It took your eyes from slightly disappointed Dean.
“He’s a superhero-“
What.
“-he kinda is around hundred now-“
WHAT. ‘Kinda?’ What did that even mean?
“-so that would explain the… peculiar soulmark you have. But don’t worry, he doesn’t look hundred, he isn’t really, it’s complicated…”
Nope, still not following.
A superhero? your mind echoed again, not even the tiniest bit helpful. Kinda hundred, but not really…?
“Anyway, even the way you were when Cas brought you in? It all checks out with the story. Even the last name you picked. His name is Steve Rogers,” Sam added, his voice dropping in both volume and tempo, seeing your brain momentarily fried.
You stared blankly ahead, trying to process all the new information you were given, letting it merge with what you had already knew – which wasn’t much. Sweet ‘doll’ caressed your ears, Dean’s joke about time-travel and a mafioso kind of soulmate, about Rowena talking the strong bound with the man you had met but hadn’t met.
You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes and how long you had remained quiet until a warm hand landed on your shoulder, Sam’s voice calling out your given name.
That was funny, wasn’t it? You chose Natasha, not knowing why. But you also chose Rogers – because clearly, that was your soulmate’s name. A soulmate who was sort of hundred years old and a superhero.
You blinked your eyes opened, still unable to let the supposed facts sink in.
“Nat? You okay there?” Dean joined his brother in mother-henning you and you couldn’t help but try and charm a slight smile on your lips at their care.
Sam gently squeezed your shoulder to ground you.
“I… I guess. It’s just…I-- … a lot. This is a lot. I’m… I’m not sure I get it,” you stuttered finally. Judging by their expressions, they didn’t trust you that you were okay, but didn’t push you. It was a lot to process. How was such thing even possible? “You really need to explain further. What even made you think I’m some… superhero’s soulmate?”
“We will explain it all,” Sam promised, removing his hand only to motion toward the latté and cake on the table. Why was here a cake? And why only one? Was this about Dean making you eat more again? You didn’t even need an answer. “But first, eat. Then we might have a trip.”
You honest to god would have raised the tea spoon to start eating, but his Sam’s later words had you frozen in mid-motion. A trip?
“To where? To find this… Steve Rogers? You know where he lives?” you blurted out, shocked. The sinking feeling in your stomach, the nerves working, nudged you intently.
“Yeah. Kinda. Though maybe we could stop by in a church first.”
You frowned at Dean, your confusion spiking. Was there anything at all that actually made a freaking sense?!
“A church? Why?”
“To light a candle for you,” Dean hummed, almost indifferent as if he was talking about weather and not about visiting your grave or whatever.
“…what?” you squeaked, earning an eye-roll.
“Just eat, Nat.”
Right. They probably knew your actual name now. That was why Dean made the point of… articulating it so pointedly.
Upon that, you dug into the cake obediently. Something told you that you’d need that sugar rush.
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It was a good thing that Dean had forced you to eat first; if you had been eating when being shown the pictures of Steve Rogers, you would have choke to death and that would be embarrassing. Not to mention ironic.
Sam was introducing the man known as Captain America in a hushed voice, clearly not wanting to attract attention. He explained that the man was the Second World War hero (what?) and how he had become one.
You saw a black-white picture that had been taken around 1942, showing a handsome light-haired man, maybe too skinny and short, but with a determined spark in his eye, lop-sided soft smile gracing his lips. For some reason, a warm feeling pooled around your heart – he looked adorable. A man would probably punch you if you told him he was that, but it was how you felt.
The very same year, only few days later, actually, had been taken another photo. You could tell it was the man still, but he was… bigger. Like… bigger. You weren’t sure you were buying the fact that some sort of a serum had made him like this, but… angels were a thing. So you didn’t voice your disbelief.
You did though when Sam got to the pictures of him in a ridiculous costume – and there it was, Captain America being his stage name. You were quickly explained that his performing to raise money for weapons had been a very short-lived gig. He had soon earned the rank of a Captain for real.
You couldn’t believe your eyes when the current pictured appeared. Steve Rogers, who had apparently been trapped in ice for seventy years, still looked the same and was still saving the world.
It was too much.
It had become too much about half an hour ago.
You stared at the device in your hand, a close-up picture of the man in question on the display, the very same spark you had seen in the old picture of him pre-serum now flashing in beautiful blue eyes.
He was a special breed of a man from what you saw and heard and for some reason, Sam and Dean believed your soulmark led to him.
How?
“That’s… you think… you think that this is my soulmate?” you whispered, voice weak, laced with uncertainty. Hell, doubt even.
How could this be?
“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, a playful smirk playing on his face as he lost the let’s-break-it-to-her-slowly attitude. “That’s what we said. What, you’re not into blonds?”
You scoffed, resisting the urge to massage your temples, suddenly bone-tired, a headache starting to build.
“That’s not… are we seeing the same pictures?”
“I sure hope so,” Sam noted, head tilted to side in confusion, begging you to elaborate even without words.
“He’s… just look at him. And he’s some kind of a hero, a superhero? Again or… still? How could a guy like him be paired with someone like me?”
Was this man even real? You weren’t sure about it. If he was, there was no way you were his soulmate. Right? That would be insane.
“I’m not even sure what that means and what to say to that,” Dean replied, his brows knitting together. You were confident he knew exactly what you meant. “Just… look, we have a video evidence-“
“I beg your pardon?!” you squealed, jumping in your seat and tossing the tablet to Sam’s hands.
“Not like that!” the taller man chimed in instantly and you gripped at your chest, your heart beating rapidly under your palm. Christ. You having certain kind of video evidence online was really the last thing you needed – or even wanted to know. “It’s from when you… died, well alright, when you were killed… it was sorta by a supervillain? He broadcasted the whole thing to every channel in US. There’s a footage of you… dying and Captain here running to your rescue. Would you- eh, would you like to see it?”
I bet you would prefer the porn kind of evidence now, a low solemn voice mocked you in your head, while your ears started ringing, your stomach making somersaults, your head pounding.
“I… I don’t know. Definitely not- not here.” And now.
Or, you know, ever.
Sam and Dean nodded in sync, expressions solemn all of sudden. They slowly rose from their seats so you followed their suit. You weren’t you sure wanted to or that your trusted your body to stand upright without passing out; however, you chose to trust the brothers to catch if your brain suddenly decided this was even more than too much and you’re sending your body vessel to the ground.
It didn’t feel like you had a choice anyway.
…
As they gathered their belongings, none of them saw their barista smile for herself and being nudged by her friend. The orange-haired girl smirked, but couldn’t keep her excitement contained. She spilled the beans about the woman; along with the fact that two days ago, she had already seen them all coming here.
That shit happened when one was a psychic after all.
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Sam and Dean decided to take a walk; more precisely, Sam had made the decision and dragged Dean away in a way that was everything but subtle. You didn’t pay any mind to that as they left you in the car with a burner phone (a gift from Dean that earned the man an appreciating look from Sam) and the tablet to go down the rabbit hole – whatever that meant. It kinda felt like it though, surfing through the net again.
First, you learned your actual name. It felt almost foreign, you had got used to Nat now, but it still had an air of it being right and you knew it was the truth.
Only then, you watched what Sam prepared for you.
The so-called video evidence caused tears to fill your eyes, soon flooding down your cheeks.
There was no faking it. There was no doubt it was you strapped to the chair. There was no doubt it was your soulmate’s voice, even when modified by the unclear record – you had heard this voice in your dreams. There was no doubt that what you heard in his words was a desperation worth losing a person he loved.
Seeing your fear and resignation-filled expression had you known that once you had felt the same about him. There was no mistaking that at least part of the fear was for him as he rushed towards the bomb instead of sprinting away to save his own skin.
A pain so sharp it made you gasp expanded in your chest, burning sensation on your skin for a fraction of second and you had to wonder if it was the last memory of your past life. Being blown up.
You had been blown up. And your soulmate witnessed it. What a twisted way to go.
What a twisted way to return, echoed in your skull and if you hadn’t been already pre-occupied with the record, you might ask heavens why you were brought back from death.
But you weren’t sure you wanted to know anyway.
To take your mind off the horrifying pictures flashing behind your eyelids, you searched the web again in attempt to find anything else.
And there was a whole new rabbit hole to find.
People indeed lighted candles for you, built altars with what you assumed was a picture of you; there were all around the United States, but mostly in New York City, near places where the explosives had been planted, where many people would have died if Captain America ran for your rescue first.
It only brought fresh tears to your eyes.
Fanfiction was a new concept to you – but what wasn’t these days. You read a few summaries, very few stories which focused on Steve after your death. It was so surreal.
Some plotlines had Steve Rogers die in the battlefield soon after losing you, often including your souls reuniting in Heaven. Those were beautiful, but also incredibly sad. Others had you resurrected somehow – which… good guess, whoever wrote that. You weren’t confident the reunion would go that smoothly though. Or, well, that passionately, as in jumping-to-bed-with-him good. All of those had a ‘fix-it’ tag. The amount of hits with those was dizzying.
Another tag that caught your eye was ‘dark!CaptainAmerica’ and dark!SteveRogers’ ; naïve, not knowing what it meant, you read summaries at least. It had your insides clench in the worst possible way, reading about the clearly good-natured man turning into a twisted stalker, sometimes even a rapist, in better cases a guy looking for a mindless fuck each night. When the element of the stalked girls looking like you joined in, you had to leave the site.
It was simply too much.
Hoping to move on, you went to click on something else entirely.
There was a website dedicated to… peculiar offers, suggestion to the hero. Basically, many people were offering to suck captain’s sorrows through his-- yeah. Sometimes, the posts were accompanied by naughty pictures and it made you ridiculously angry on both captain’s behalf and yours (not that you would ever admit it, because there was no way you were jealous, right?).
It was almost a relief to read some posts from people who had lost their soulmates too and simply were looking for a new connection. Was that how it worked? Was this what people did, drowning their sorrows together? Did it work? Was there someone who caught the captain’s eye? Or was he hoping to meet his soulmate, having a new set of marks like she – possibly you – did? He must have, right?
You shook your head and sighed, absentmindedly going through some comments on what was called Tumblr. A long post with many reactions caught your attention and you had decided to read it, rather not trying to figure out what exactly possessed you to do so when many things seen today had already made you sick from your stomach.
He used to come to our coffee shop sometimes. I was trying to woman up and flirt with him for weeks. Never got to it and now I’m kinda glad.
One day, he didn’t order and just sat there, clearly waiting for someone – and looked super-impatient, I swear he was tapping his foot. I didn’t call him out on it despite how annoying it was. I couldn’t even tell him to order or get out – try to say that to a national icon! And then… then she came in.
You know, I read a lot of chickflics, not gonna lie. But for the first time, I actually saw someone looking at another person as if ‘they hung the moon’. Seriously. He had hearts in his eyes. I would wish everyone to find themself a better half that looks at them like that.
She wasn’t any different, but that’s implied – she was dating a gorgeous man and a hero on top of that. They were so obviously in love and while they were polite all the way – that woman was super-nice, alright, – it was clear the rest of the world disappeared when they were together.
Just wanna say: stick your disgusting offers to cure his heart by sucking his D to your arse. That man is mourning the woman he clearly loved with his whole heart and he has every right. I want to thank him for the lives he saved. I want to thank her for not spending their last moments yelling accusation to his face to make him feel guiltier than he already had, no doubt. I hope her soul is in a good place and one day, they will reunite.
Rest in peace, sweetie. I hope you get see the way he was looking at you every day.
→ Amen, sister.
→ That’s equally heart-warming and heart-breaking. Poor girl. Poor guy.
→ Has anyone actually seen him outside since it happened? I hope he’s handling it. As much as a person can.
→ So what? You think he should just be alone for the rest of his live? Grow up, girl. Guy needs to get laid on regular basis. And yes, I’d gladly offer when given the opportunity.
→ Jeez. She didn’t say anything like that. But it’s kinda soon to get laid, don’t you think?
This is clearly a note exactly for people like you. Let the poor guy have his peace. Let him
mourn and come to terms with what happened before offering him a BJ. Excuse me while I
go throw up…
→ God let her rest in peace indeed. My daughter was at school at the time, few feet from one of the bombs. She’s alive and well. I won’t forget this woman, ever.
→ Can we talk about how a person can date Captain America and be actually a nice person, not bragging all the freaking time? Like, even I might gain a superiority complex or something tbh.
→ I hear you. Same.
→ She sounds cool. Seems like they were amazing together. Life can suck. RIP.
→ This is so sweet and heart-breaking I’m crying.
The person writing the last comment wasn’t alone in their misery, having their heart breaking and warmed up at the very same time. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you vainly tried to blink them away as you sniffled and covered your mouth with your palm to muffle your sob.
You gave up then. You tossed the tablet on the driver’s seat and hid your face in your palms, letting the tears stroll down your cheeks as your loud sobs filled the car.
You had no actual reason to cry, you reasoned with yourself, but it was all in vain. The many confusing and overwhelming emotions swirling in you finally found a proper out – and it was in the form of salty waterfalls on your face.
So be it. God knew that good cry might be exactly what you needed. Better now than in front of your soulmate.
Something told you it wouldn’t be too hard to find him.
༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺
“Well. You look like shit,” Dean exclaimed when he opened the door, effectively causing you a heart-attack. Your tense shoulders slumped and you melted into the seat, looking up at him with your no doubt red-rimmed eyes.
Still, his compassionate eyes somehow smiled at you, warm and open and you couldn’t help attempting a smile in return. You were the luckiest girl on Earth to be taken care of by them.
Thank God for Sam and Dean.
Or thank angels? One in particular? You didn’t know and perhaps you never would.
“Thanks, Dean. You know how to sweet-talk a girl,” you rasped, blowing your nose in an unladylike manner (not caring).
“Ha! Sassy mouth is back. Sam, she’s good!”
Sam peeked to the car, his tall form nearly bending in half to do so. He offered you an apologetic expression along with a ‘hi’ and a pointed look at his brother, but you mouthed it was alright. Dean actually lifted your spirit.
“So… what now?” you asked in a small voice, which caused the brothers to exchange a look.
“Well. Two things. First, we have lunch-“
“Not really hungry, honestly-“ you interrupted Dean, only for the younger brother to interject.
“A small lunch then, even if it’s only the cake you had earlier,” Sam offered with a wink which would have made you laugh, because health-freak Sam suggested a cake for lunch, but you were dreading the second step in their plan.
“And then?”
Instinctively, you knew the answer. It was the writing on the wall, really, the only logical step. The cause of the knot in your stomach of which you weren’t sure was nerves, nausea or excitement.
Dean confirmed your suspicion of course.
“Then we go to the Avengers Tower to find America’s sweetheart.”
༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺
Part 13
༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺
Thank you for reading!
We really are getting close now, aren’t we? :)) Yay?
P.S. - if anyone wants on the taglist - or out - shoot me a dm or an ask, it’s (usually) no problem :))
#marvel#supernatural#fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#soulmate au#mcu#avengers#captain america#steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x you#supernatural fanfic#sam winchester#dean winchester#marvel x spn#spn x marvel#crossover#sam winchester fanfic#dean winchester fanfic#team free will#captain america x reader#captain america x you#captain america imagine#captain america fanfic#steve rogers soulmate#errare humanum est#anika ann
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Jayde's Secret Santa Gift (AU) 2020| Matt + Kristen
A/N: It’s a gift that’s SUPER late for my buddy @nevergoodenoughforthetruth and I hope she enjoys this! Love you boo!
Kristen couldn’t believe the insanity of Shayne. She had spent the night in holding, her hair never went back to its usual lay no matter how much she tried to finger through it so she wet the whole thing and threw it into a ponytail. Matt had risen out of his bed at three in the morning from Kristen’s only phone call, even though they hadn’t spoken in about two and a half years at this point. He threw a hat over his messy wavy hair with only a hoodie and old baggy skinny jeans and skate shoes and didn’t bother with putting in his contact lenses. He questioned everything about the call while he drove 3 hours downstate from his apartment in Nevada to Flagstaff, Arizona.
Matt knew from her voice this was the side of Kristen he usually didn’t see, but had heard what she meant. He knew that as much as she fought, she wouldn’t fight to come up empty-handed. She didn’t want anyone to tell her that she fell for the wrong one, even when it became blatantly apparent. Shayne picking up work with Smosh after they graduated was a godsend, the honeymoon phase in their relationship had been in full swing and her fight to keep their happiness shone brightest then. She wasn’t exactly there for Matt when Suzy finally dumped him to take Arin back, and for that he had held a grudge; however, it was Shayne who created the wedge. All of the sudden her brother was a burden on her happiness because her happiness was her relationship with Shayne. The blonde had made Kristen believe that no matter what Matt was trying to say it was a lie. If he could be comfortable lying to Gabbie, and he and Suzy lying to Gabbie together, which should have caused their severance before, what was to stop him from lying to her the entire time and being someone who’s just trying to get with her because she’s got a lot to be used for? It lit Kristen up to hear it from Shayne that Matt had been manipulating her like he had Gabbie and Suzy. She trusted him, but it twisted how she trusted Matt.
Kristen couldn’t believe that she trusted Shayne. He’d not only been cheating on her, but manipulated her and isolated her, using her aggression and fear of feelings to protect herself and being used by others against her. Now she had been used, now she had been wrong. Coming home to hearing those noises that she was familiar with, her Chicken Muffin barking profusely from the bathtub in the locked bathroom before her wide-open bathroom door.
Courtney Fucking Miller.
Kristen welcomed her into her life and, unknowingly, her relationship. The girl seemed so sweet and innocent, she liked her energetic appeal and her commitment to caring for someone. It was always too perfect that she took care of Shayne while working on set, but Kristen couldn’t while she was working on her own stuff, so maybe she was right to let it slide. She will never make that mistake again. Her style spoke volumes to the hours of conversation and lies she had with her that tainted her purely artistic mind and the other girl’s pure need to create and to be inspired to create.
Beating the absolute shit out of her made all of it worth it. All it took was for them to get sloppy with their lies. Red is usually never wrong. Red was the only thing that she could hear once Matt was gone even though she would hear them then, Blue would be louder:
She’s totally looking at him like that.
Friends don’t hug friends like that.
You’re fucking digusting for believing this scummy ass guy and his bitch.
You’re letting THIS...this fucking thing touch you.
Matt was a damn dog, you’re better off getting fleas than looking like the fool you are now.
She doesn’t respect you.
You should slap her in her stupid head.
Fucking stomp her out, you fucking idiot.
You’re going to end up alone, just because you’re so fucking stupid.
You’re a fucking idiot, I don’t even know why you bother.
You are doing the absolute WORST that you could do.
Moving in? Really?! You’re actually going to think this is worth it.
You deserve to be alone.
Kristen began taking more medications, prescribed to her by a bad therapist, to soften Red to a whisper. He said that it was simply an inferiority complex that branched out of her low self-esteem, so with time she will no longer hear it and it wouldn’t cause her such issues. She left the Youni with so much more and had healthier solutions
“So..what-”
“I fucking punched her. And kicked her, brother…” she laid on Matt’s couch, wearing an oversized wrestling t-shirt of his, some cute socks she was already wearing because she refused to get anything more from the larger man and not much else.
Why must you be so resistant? At least he answered your call.
He’s so sweet, taking pity on us. It’s the least he could do.
“I saw the police report and the release forms I had to sign had a pretty detailed section about your mental health state..I want to know what that asshole did to you,” Matt said gruffly, standing over her, smoking heavily through a pack of cigarettes.
“I thought you quit…” she said, watching the billows of smoke before holding her fingers up to take the cigarette.
He’s kinda cute with that rough look, the cigs are a nice touch.
Still no style, but that means a blank slate!
He’d be a great model. Maybe you two should do look books together.
“I thought we weren’t friends,” he said while exhaling and handing it to her, “You can finish that.”
“We aren’t...I just needed someone to post my bail-”
“You remembered my number..You didn’t call your parents..” he sighed, going over and attempting to bend down to pick up the girl’s legs as he sat as a way of excusing himself, but Kristen flinched before allowing him to take her ankles up and place them in his lap as he relaxed into his couch, “But sure, I’m not your friend.”
“You’re not…” Kristen said quickly, turning over. Her head beginning to fog up while her body was slipping, to keep it awake, she shifted and turned her body to the side, smoking lightly and ashing on his coffee table, “I did what I had to do...you know…”
“All I see that you did, Kristen, was get arrested for assault and battery..It wasn’t even on Shayne, it was on-”
“DOn’t...just don’t..please..” she begged, whipping her head to look at the man.
When did his beard get so long?
Gabbie had a point about his beard really complimenting his face.
When we model he’s going to have to cut it down, but it’s just so distinguishing.
“Fine...are you hungry?” he asked, lighting another cigarette.
“No..Too sick,” she responded.
“Guessing your buff prince charming wasn’t all he was cracked up to be-”
“GOD I said shut up, brother!” she snapped, yanking her legs and curling into a ball, allowing some tears to fall, “I know I’m fucking stupid…”
“So even though you had enough vulnerability to call me, you don’t want me to help you, feed you, take you back to your apartment, comfort you, or even know what happened? You do understand that you called me in the middle of the night-”
“I could tell you in the morning, I’ll have a plan in the morning, brother,” Kristen held her hand out for his other cigarette.
“Kristen..I’m worried..I’ve been worried. I don’t wanna see you like this..” he began meekly.
“You think I want you to see me like this?!” she snapped as she smoked and pushing her fingers through her hair for the 8th time.
“Well, you called me for a reason..you could at least tell me what you were thinking…” he said, looking at her as he handed her the cigarette after his puff, leaning over and sipping from the beer he left on the table. His heart was breaking while it sat in his stomach acid eroding it away. This was something he got to see a glimpse of when they were going to graduate, before all of this was an issue and Kristen was there for him. It was so welcoming and just what he needed, it was only fair to give it to her, even if she wasn’t going to tell him directly what was going on.
Kristen was in such a battle. Blue called Matt, Blue remembered his number, Red was silent but agreeing. She had proved that was going to handle herself for literally everyone. This is probably the plan: she was going to lay low with him for a few days while the media and the internet died down. She didn’t turn her phone on yet, so her family and friends couldn’t get to her. She gave herself until the morning to tell him or not, but she was going to have to tell him eventually. There was just something that still didn’t add up. Gabbie would have easily drove to get her. Ro would have done it no questions asked. She’d be more comfortable with them. Hell, she could call Mari or Olivia, or any woman she knew and they would have come and got her. Red had been the one who had needed to calm down and had made her ears ring to the point where she was nearly deaf. She had never been so angry and blacked out so quickly or so long. Now her heart was beating out of her chest. Now she was sweating and looked a mess. She was fine in holding all night and on the ride over to the police station. She didn’t care how she had looked, but now she’s stuck looking like all hell hit her in her ex-friend’s apartment during sunrise in southern Nevada. The sun was shining bright red-orange through his windows and curtains, and the girl was bathed in it as the man turned on the news.
Matt got up and went to his kitchen to start making breakfast, "You work today or anything?" He asked while he pulled a pan out of the cabinet and started cracking eggs into a cup, "You want some breakfast?"
"My phone is turned off..I had appointments but-" she started before sighing, still trying to curl into herself, realizing how much she always hated how cold Matt keeps his place, even in Nevada.
"Turn your phone on and cancel your appointments, Kristen… handle your business so you're clear-"
"It's fine brother-"
"Kristen I fucking swear to god," he snapped, slamming his fridge door, the drawers and his trash can lid.
"Can you make breakfast like you have neighbors and stop worrying about me so much…" She was starting to get frustrated with Blue and surprised that it could be so loud as just one voice when she usually wouldn't get above normal speaking volume, always getting drowned out by Red.
“Can you actually let me help you like you called me and asked me to do? I can just take you home, dude..I don’t need this,” he said exasperated. Matt knew how hard it was for Kristen to let someone help her, but now he didn't really care what her attitude and pride were trying to save her from.
"I..I dunno what I was thinking okay?!" She got up rushing to the kitchen nook, "You'd be up at 3-"
"You woke me up outta my sleep. I wasn't awake, dude..This isn't the Youni anymore!" He cut her off, then took a breath as he started to brew his coffee, turning around and leaning on the counter to face her, "Kristen. I know you're hurt and that you're kicking yourself for this, but...it's time to face facts: you fucked up. I know back in the day it was you telling me that I fucked up all the time, but life goes on, man...and you wanted yours to go on without me.."
"I shouldn't have said that," Kristen finally admits, trying to hide herself to avoid his gaze, "Sh...he made me do it..he told me that you'd screw me over just like Gabbie and like Suzy did...That you were just bidding your time until I'd end up like them..I didn't mean anything to you."
"Heh. Figures," Matt scoffed as he pulled another cigarette from his ear and lit it on the stove, "He had everyone fooled. I really thought that you'd been stronger than that, honestly..that isn't the first time something convinced you to see and believe something like that."
She walked closer with a shrug, rubbing the back of her neck as she held her hand out to take the cigarette, but instead she was met with the tall man's open arms. She fell into them for the first time in years. The girl could count on her hand how many times she hugged Matt and every time it was because of something she was wrong about. He was always so patient and welcoming, he took the time to understand her boundaries and knew when it was high time he passed through them. "I'm sorry...and thank you again..for...you know.."
"Anytime, darlin.." Matt said by accident, feeling his wife beater getting wet with her tears, knowing that she probably didn't care at the moment, closing her in and putting the stick out on the counter behind him, "I know...I know it hurts...so listen to me, okay?...You don't have to turn your phone on today, but tomorrow I need you to at least call your mother and your clients so you don't have to lose business." The girl nodded as she sniffles, whining quietly.
Kristen felt so safe in his arms, and she never got here unless she told him she wanted to be there.
You can’t act like this forever. He’ll just take you home.
He’s so considerate, and he’s got a point. However, you gotta do something.
Things are better already; you even stopped crying since you got out of the car.
Just tell him you’ll get to it after breakfast.
The fact that he knows about your business after you told him to kick rocks and suck a fat dick even if he doesn’t have one says a lot.
Matt broke away to start getting eggs and cracking them to scramble them in a bowl, “Now, I know it’s not the avocado toast with prosciutto you usually get for breakfast when we used to go out, but I hope eggs and bacon is fine.”
“You have sausage links?” she asked almost automatically, not realizing that she let herself speak.
“Uhhh does Italian sweet or hot work? I ran out a couple of days ago.”
“It’s fine. I’ll take the bacon,” she shrugged, then sighed as she jumped onto the counter, then scoffed, “You’re usually the one I’m taking you to breakfast. Since I usually get to my matters after that, then that’s...that’s what I’ll do.”
“Yeah, I know..even down to the tea spilling,” Matt said, then sighed at the realization, “Sorry for yelling at you.”
“It’s cool. I’m too stubborn for my own good,” Kristen replied, staring at him, “Sorry for making you get up in the middle of the night to pick me up.”
“Look, even if you don’t know why, you needed me. Not anyone else. That means something about our friendship..which has now survived some real war.”
“You called that war? I wouldn’t call it that. I’d call it..uhh...me getting swept up into this dream that some muscly guy tried to sell me and then use...very unsavory levels of manipulation to...isolate me and make me look like a fucking fool..what are you even doing in Nevada anyway?” she asked, trying to gesticulate as he handed her a complete cup of coffee and allowing her to smell it and take in its scent.
“Just kinda ended up here. Wanted to stay close to LA to try my hand at direction and stuff, then my channel fucked me over when it got hacked, so I’ve just been doing work for other people...and I took your advice and been mostly riding solo and commuting to work here and there and sold my channel and I still get some profit from letting techies run it,” he mentioned while he continued to cook.
“Wow..just your main channel?” Kristen asked, shocked.
“Yeah, but I have a whole second channel for blogs and I work on a few other peoples’ channels so it’s not like I’m broke,” Matt shrugged sounding exhausted, “I’ve been kinda circling in your realm at times and people referred your services to me, but I just knew that I was the last person you wanted to see.”
They shared a isolated giggle while he plated their food and handed her a plate. Matt leans over and kisses the girl on the forehead, but feels something pull on his wifebeater before pulling away. He looks down to see her hand gripping the fabric, then looks back into the girl’s eyes, “Thanks for breakfast..and I’m thirsty so do you have orange juice or something?” The look makes him weak, but he refocuses himself.
“But..I just made you coffee,” he says with a nervous chuckle.
“Oh..uhh..yeah, you’re right..maybe it’s too hot and I need a tall glass of orange juice..” she says with a shrug.
Not what I had planned, but are you actually doing what I think you’re doing?
You’re flirting with him, but why?
You’re desperate. You’re not thinking straight. You know that he feels a certain way about you, maybe you should think about this a little more.
On the other hand, he does look really nice and he’s been an absolute peach this entire time, and he smells so...
“Kristen, uhh..maybe you should-...are you feeling okay?” Matt asked, taking his hand up to remove hers from his shirt. To his surprise she contorts and intertwines her fingers with his, “Your food’s getting cold, now, maybe you need to-”
“You’ve always been so nice to me, even when I’ve been an absolute bitch…” she says, finally making her voice softer, revealing how vulnerable he actually made her as he brings her hand down to the counter.
“Yeah, I mean, I know what I signed up for..but you’ve been through a traumatic experience..I-I don’t think you understand-” he attempts to let her down gently.
“I don’t think I’ve..been..completely honest with myself about what I need you for..” she sighed, looking down at her hand and pulling his fabric again with more force, bringing him closer between her legs, “How I feel about you..what I think when it came to..how...fucking angry I was when Suzy played you..the fact that I allowed Gabbie to fuck up your life like that...Like I just..I dunno...but that hug was so...and every hug you’ve given me..it’s different.”
“Different..?” he asked, eyes darting down and back to her eyes as she explained, then shifting as he furrowed his eyebrows, “Different how?” he brought his hand up to caress her cheek, which she leaned into and and wrapped her legs around his waist, “Oh..that different..uhh..I don’t...I really wouldn’t...I don’t think I can handle this..I thought I was your brother to you..we’ve...always been siblings to you-”
“I know...but siblings don’t look at me the way you used to look at me. I ignored it. I just...I thought it would go away-”
“Can we like..drop this incest thing because...because uhh...it’s not right and it’s kinda classist given that I’m from the south and would never fuck Holly or Raven,” he said quickly as he finally decided to lean into her caressing her hand with his thumb. They share a giggle, “So...you do like me like that?..I thought the idea disgusted you..”
“All of this..everything..ever since you didn’t fight about Sh..him...I realized I might have been going about this differently wrong,” she shook her head when she corrected herself, and went back up to those eyes bathed in the desert morning light, “Maybe I should have..given it more thought..”
“You’ve given it more thought?” he asked, waiting and beginning to tremble at her words, becoming more nervous at the realization that he might be getting setup until she pulls him by his neck to kiss him on the lips, deepening quick.
~
Kristen leans over and lights his last cigarette as they laid together on his couch, kissing his head, “You should go back to quitting,” she said as she finished her drag.
“Then you’ll be the reason I quit..cus that’s my last pack,” Matt chidded as he kissed her forehead.
“I’ll gladly be that reason...so...what now?..I didn’t exactly...plan for this. This changes a lot of things,” Kristen said as she expressed her dissonance in her glow.
“I’m gonna guess you haven’t planned anything for the past like..week. And..this doesn’t have to change anything if you don’t want it to..” he said, shifting so that he sat up and she straddled his waist, taking the cigarette, “I gotta tell the girl I’ve been seeing to buzz off, but she’s been super flighty anyway, so that won’t be that hard..uhhh, there’s a reunion party-”
“Oh fuck! I forgot about that! I’m supposed to be helping submit the theme next week to Ro-”
“Right..there’s that and you’re supposed to show up with..not just me, but..honestly I don’t feel like going-”
“You’re going, brother.”
“I’ve been fucking you for 2 hours, can you not call me brother?”
“Matthew! Whatever! Ugh, I completely forgot about that…”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve gotta go back to Arizona and work out all of that legal shit and PR about the fact that you got arrested for aggravated assault..if you want I can contact you with my lawyer..she’s really good,” he said ashing and covering her with the throw blanket lazily.
“Wait, your lawyer’s a woman?”
“Yeah. I have a woman lawyer, she got the job done and won my family’s case for me…”
“Speaking of...why aren’t you with them?”
“They don’t really need me. I’d been away and getting better for so long that my auntie just took over custody and Holly is turning 18 soon, so she said she’d take over for Raven with an emancipation stipend...it was a lot of paperwork and I already did my appearances in court...You don’t have to go with me for Thanksgiving or Christmas or anything..” he explained.
“Okay..so yes to the lawyer..yes to the holidays…”
“Don’t forget that you still have to tell your clients you’ll be taking a little longer with your consults given all of this- and you never got to breakfast-”
“What time is it?” she asked, looking around for his phone and picking it up off of the coffee table, “Fuck..”
“Just tell your clients today and you can deal with everything else tomorrow...your coffee’s cold and I’m already thinking about lunch,” he mentioned.
“Yeah...so..you’re not busy today?”
“First day off in a few weeks...and I’m spending it getting your life together..” he said, causing her to slap him and he leans up to grab her face gently and kiss her on the lips, “Kinda worth..I was just gonna play games all day..and go food shopping..”
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Waking Up in Vegas--Ch. 12
Chapter 12: Situation Lost Control
Two Days Later
Mera, Evening, 7:45 PM
We’d left Vegas behind, traveling further west into California for a series of shows. Normally, I only worked the televised events, but one of the other ATs was out and I’d agreed to take his place on the live event circuit. Southern California welcomed me with open arms and bright sunshine.
I took care setting up my trainer’s room in the backstage area. I didn’t have my full set of equipment, but it was enough that I could take care of anyone who might need me. There were a few of the superstars that needed to be checked out before they went to the ring. Other than that, it was likely to be a slow night.
Dean was off somewhere in the arena getting warmed up. We’d arrived together, something that had irked Seth when he realized he was being pushed into riding with someone else. I felt guilty for interrupting the comradery between the two of them—they had been friends since the moment they met in FCW. I’d seen every moment of their friendship, from those wonderful early days when they feuded and fought to their debut on the main roster, the shattering of the Shield, their path to redemption and back to one another. Of course, I’d seen most of it from Seth’s side.
Looking back, I realized there was so much I missed because I had been so deeply infatuated with the man that I had wanted Seth to be. For years, I tried to convince myself that he was the same Colby that I’d grown up with—the kid I’d watched stage wrestling matches in his front yard, who built snowmen and tree forts and river dams with me—rather than the selfish man he really was. Sometimes it still ached, not because of the romance that fell apart but because of the loss of my dearest childhood friend.
“Hey,” came Dean’s voice. He leaned against the doorframe, his black shirt accentuating the cut of his body and the shape of his muscles. “Do me a favor?”
I smiled, sunlight sliding through my veins. Somehow, the last four days had set off a wonderful new normal. It felt as if we had been part of this dance with one another for months or years. We complemented each other in ways that I never thought I would experience.
“Of course.”
He crossed the room, fidgeting with his wedding band as he did. When he was within arm’s reach, he slipped the ring from his finger and held it out toward me. “I don’t want to lose this out there. Hold on to it for me?”
My heart melted in my chest. I reached up, unclasped the necklace that I wore. I let his wedding band slide down the chain, stopping with a faint clink at the charm. Then I put the necklace back on, ensuring that the ring settled near my heart.
“Maybe we should get you one of those silicon things that Randy has.”
He made a face as he pulled me gently into his arms. His lips pressed against my hair. “Maybe. We can talk about it later.”
I settled against him, listening to the sound of his heart. He swayed in that playful way of his, bring a smile to my face.
Dean, Evening, 7:50 PM
Having Mera on the road was a selfish sort of joy. It was remarkable to wake up in the hotel with her in my arms, her sunlight and honey hair spread out on the pillows. She would stretch and mumble her good mornings in a sleepy voice. Her body curved into mine, her warmth seeping into me, smoothing the rough edges of my soul into something worthy of her. It was a gift—her presence in my world like this—and it was a one that I didn’t want to leave so soon.
Before, I had been forced to subsist on sightings of her in passing each week. A glimpse as I passed the trainer’s room. A faint greeting as we passed in catering. But this… this was her presence fully and completely. It was seeing her each morning and each night. It was watching her sleep in the passenger seat while I drove to the next down. It was falling exhausted into bed with her at the end of the night, fighting down the urge to make love before falling asleep.
“This weekend… you want to head back to Red Rock?” I murmured against her hair, holding her against my chest. Holding her was a sensation of which I could never tire. “We can figure out some stuff for the house and go hiking.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist, locking her fingers together. “I was thinking of trying to get things taken care of in Florida. There’s so much I have to do if I’m moving to Vegas with you.”
I let out a hum of understanding. “Then we’re going to Florida this weekend. I’ll get flights after we get to the hotel.”
“You don’t have to, Dean.”
My fingers brushed through the soft waves of her hair as I stooped down to look at her. “Darlin’, I know I don’t have to. I want to. Spending time with you anywhere is worth whatever manual labor you put me through.”
She smiled, her face going rosy and her eyes fading bronze. “I love you, you know that, don’t you?”
“Sure do,” I replied. “As much as I know that I love you with every cell in my body.”
“Shit,” came a voice from behind us, “I don’t remember the sex being that good. But, you know, maybe she’s gotten better since I had her.”
I turned, saw that Seth stood in the doorway, glaring in at the two of us. My stomach dropped even as that beast roared in my chest. It arose in fury, desperate to protect and defend the woman in my arms. It coiled, ready to spring, desperate to lash out at the man who I considered my brother.
I pressed a kiss to Mera’s forehead, whispering softly to her. “I love you. I’ll handle him.”
She blinked, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Blind rage fed the primal beast inside me. Her tears were enough to make me want to rip the world apart to punish everything that had ever upset her.
Turning toward my tag partner, I tried to rein in my instinct to swing first and talk later. I took one deep breath after another. “First, mind your business,” I tossed out firmly. “Second, I thought I told you to keep her name out of your filthy mouth.”
Seth took a step toward me, his chest puffed out. He looked like a boy trying too hard to be a man. “And I thought friends didn’t fuck their buddy’s ex.”
It was an effort to resist the urge to simply punch him and walk away. He was my brother, my friend. But Mera was my wife, and she mattered more than anything now.
“What do you want me to do to? Apologize? For what exactly? Help me out here, Rollins.”
He scoffed. “Help you? Man, you’re the one who’s picked up my leftovers. There’s no helping that.”
I stepped to him, toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose. “That’s my wife you’re talking about, Rollins. So I’d watch your mouth if I were you.”
He started to laugh, but stopped as the words started to make sense. “Wife? Are you fucking kidding me? I know for a fact she’s not that good in bed, Ambrose.”
Mera, Night, 8:00 PM
Every word out of Seth’s mouth was a knife slipped between my ribs, twisted until it ripped my being into shreds. If I had held any hope that he was the same person I’d known, he had killed them with the way he spoke to Dean. There was such venom and contempt in his voice. It was so hard to reconcile the man who called me names and insulted me in such crass ways with the one I’d grown up with, fallen in love with, built my whole life around as a young woman.
Tears burned my eyes, blurring my vision. I turned away from the two of them, gasping for breath as I tried desperately to stop the tears from coming. The last thing I wanted was to let Seth know that his words still meant something, that he had the power to hurt me even after all this time.
“I swear to God, Rollins, if you insult or upset Mera one more time…” Dean growled. His voice was rough and filled with rage and anger. “It’s not her fault that you’re a selfish dick who couldn’t see a good woman when she was two feet from your face.”
“Mera’s been a ring rat since we were kids. That’s not gonna change.”
There was a scuffle, a heavy thud, the sound of fists against flesh. I turned to find Seth pinned up against the wall, blood on his bottom lip and trickling down into his beard from a gash on his cheek. There were gashes across Dean’s knuckles.
“Get your shit together,” Dean snarled at his brother. “I don’t want to choose, but if you force this—I’ll choose her without question every time.”
Tag List
@bethany99stuff-blog @xbutterflius-effectusx @lunatictoosweet @houndsofjxstice
#waking up in vegas#dean ambrose#dean ambrose fanfiction#seth rollins#mera reynolds#wwe#wwe fanfiction#real person fanfiction#ofc#oc#multi-chapter
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Jay Park Birthday one-shot (2018)
Summary: Birthday one-shot for Jay Park
Genre: Smut
Word-count: 4.4k
Parties do something to me.
I don’t know what it is about being surrounded by so many other people that secretly turns me on so much. Maybe it’s the thrill of possibly getting caught. The secrecy of it all. Or maybe it’s just him.
Jay has a way about him. Everybody knows just how charming he could be. But there’s something about when his eyes are on me, and he’s giving me that look that tells me all the things he wants to do to me, that brings my blood to a boil. I wore my hair down like he likes it. He hates when he can’t run his fingers through it or wrap his hands around it. His hair is up the way he’s been wearing it lately. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him that I haven’t gotten to play in his longer hair.
I watch him too; wondering if he can see all the things I want to do to him too. He looks good tonight. The black slacks he’s wearing fits his hips sharply. The rolled up patterned button down shirt shows off the tattoos that line his arm. He has a button too many undone and the ink on his chest peeks out. I remember the last time I had my mouth on the swirling ink that makes its way beyond the collar of the shirt.
I remember what his hands could do, what his mouth could do, his dick. All of him is burned into my brain. I swear I feel his fingers moving against my skin as he gestures wildly in the middle of whatever conversation he’s having. I’ve had enough of the distance between us. We’ve been on opposite sides of the room all night, moving around each other, building anticipation. I feel it low in my belly, a pull that feels like it’s tugging every part of my body toward him. He looks at me one last time, his tongue moves across his bottom lip slowly before he brings the glass to his mouth. His eyes never leave mine, even as he responds to the person talking to him.
He likes it when I go to him. It’s what he’s been waiting for. And I owe him that much after the picture I sent him before I got dressed earlier. He didn’t respond but I know that he saw it. And he liked it. He wouldn’t be looking at me like he’s painting the image on my body. I make my excuses, leaving the company I’m in to make my way toward him. He watches as I move through the body of people, smiling and greeting people who stop me. It takes me entirely too long to finally stop in front of him.
I’m first to break our eye contact, saying hi to everyone that surrounds him. I can still feel the heat of his eyes on me as I lean in greeting everyone one by one. I lean toward him last, allowing me to linger against him a little longer. His hand touches my hip lightly as I press my cheek against his.
“Happy birthday, Jay,”His lips pull into a smirk as he watches me.
I’m good at this game. I like this game. Pretending that I won’t have his dick in my mouth in less than twenty minutes. I like that we’re the only two that know.
“Thank you,”I push my bottom lip out, rolling my eyes dramatically. “I left your gift at my place, though. I was in such a hurry tonight,”
“I can get it whenever you’re free,”
God, I don’t think I can wait.
If anyone else notices the sexual tension in the air between us, they don’t let on. More people move in to take his attention and just like that our interaction, for the time being, is done. I see him try to keep the conversations short so he can get back to me, but it’s his party for goodness sake. Everyone is here to see him. I shoot him a wave before turning to leave. He’ll follow. Somehow he’ll find a way to leave his own birthday party, and he’ll find me.
I barely make it outside before a feel his hand on my waist. I smile to myself as his fingers slide down until he’s cupping my ass.
“Car should be here in two minutes,” he says close to my ear. He feels warm. Hot. Like he’s my own personal hot pack pressed against my back.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” I ask innocently.
Years ago, I swore I hated girls like me. The ones who ruined relationships just because they could. The ones who threw away their morals for a pretty face. I couldn’t imagine that that’s what I’d become. Then I met Jay Park and there’s really no other explanation.
He laughs. His hand slides down to grip my fingers. He always insists on intimacy. No matter how wild and fleeting each meeting between us is, it never truly feels like it.I look up at him, seeing him shake his head.
“She didn’t like that picture you sent me earlier,”
I tilt my head. “What, is she not a fan of red lace?”
“You’re evil,” he says smiling. His hand comes up to touch my neck. His fingers tangle with the hair at the back of my scalp.
“You could have told her that it was unsolicited,” I smile up at him.
“Then,” his thumb pulls my bottom lip down. “She wouldn’t have broken up with me, and I wouldn’t be able to do this,”
His lips touch mine so softly that my legs almost give out entirely. His hand stays against my ass, holding me up. It’s been two months and three days since he last kissed me and I feel like I’m finally quenched.
I knew Jay was a good kisser from the moment I laid eyes on him. He just has good lips. I can feel everything that he’s going to do to me in this kiss. All the things he wants me to do to him too. If I was anyone else, it would be overwhelming to be touched like this. But I’m not. I always thought that I was meant to fuck Jay Park. Like my body chemistry had lined up just right so that I knew exactly what he liked. Sometimes he felt like I was the only one that knew how to do it right.
I pull away first, my mouth still lingering softly against his. My hand moves up to brush along his cheekbone. So pretty. So fucking dangerous.
“The car is here,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Did we give him a show?”I smile, grabbing his fingers in mine and pulling him along.
It’s Jay’s car that picks us up. The outrageous Bentley that he never drives pulls in front of us ready to take us to his place. We both slide into the backseat. Jay greets his driver and tells him to take us straight to his apartment. It doesn’t take long before Jay has his hands on my body.
His hands climb up my knee, inching toward my thighs. His fingers move up my dress until they hook around the waistband of my panties. He pulls them down slowly, smiling at me as the come off. He’s careful not to draw attention from up front. I watch as he stuffs the fabric in his back pocket. His hand comes back up to move over my thigh.
Fingers girls around my thigh until he’s pushing my legs open. My eyes glance at the driver who has his music up as if to give us privacy. I wonder if he knows what’s going on in the back seat. Can he see my lips part as the metal of Jay’s cold ring brushes over my sensitive skin. I watch Jay’s face as his finger traces over me. He leans in to whisper in my ear.
“This is for me right?”
When his finger adjusts to tease my entrance, my back presses against back seat as I try not to back a sound. His wrist moves slowly as his finger drags in and out. I pull my lip between my teeth, biting on my flesh hard. I can’t speak. I can only nod as his knuckles move deeper, caressing me from the inside out.
“Why do you keep making me wait for you, huh?” His lips brush over the shell of my ear. “It’s been too fucking long since I’ve been in this,”
“Hey,” he calls to his driver. “Can you turn this up a bit? My girl likes this song,”
I couldn’t tell you what song is playing or even who it’s by. I can’t focus on anything other than his fingers and how it feels like he’s unraveling pieces of me. “You’re quiet,” he smiles. “You’re never this quiet,”
“I-fuck,” I whisper, throwing my head back against the seat.
“Five more minutes until we’re at my place. I need you to cum before then,”Jay’s lips press against my jaw softly.
They trail out to the corner of my mouth. When he finally takes my lips, it’s much softer than I expect. It’s still too much as his fingers pump against me. His tongue touches mine and I explode. He muffles my moans with his mouth. I pull back, pressing my face into his shoulder. I feel him slowly withdraw his hand. I lift my head, looking at him. He pulls my underwear out to wipe his hand before stuffing the fabric back in place.
“Hey, thanks man,” he speaks to the driver but his eyes never leave mine. He exits the car first before reaching in to help me stand on my unsteady legs. His hand stays wrapped around mine as he pulls me through the lobby and up to his apartment. As soon as we back it into his place, he presses my back against the wall.
“Does it make me weak that I’m so happy you’re here right now?”I shake my head. I can’t resist leaning in to press my lips against his.
“No, it makes you horny,” I laugh. “And easy,”
“I can get sex anywhere,” he tells me raising an eyebrow. His hands easy up my bare thighs, rolling the black satin up with each inch. “But you are you,”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I laugh.
“It means, I’m more than willing to put up your annoying ass because it means I can do whatever I want,”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t think anything’s changed, Jay. I’m still in charge. It’s just your birthday,”
He pulls my panties from his back pocket. Jay’s hands slides up my arm before he steps back like he’s memorizing how I look. He reaches up and wraps the fabric around my wrists tightly. He steps closer again. I’m almost shaking in anticipation. I just want him to touch me.
“Whatever I want, right?”I nod, drawing my lip between my teeth. Whatever he has planned, I can’t wait for it. My body feels like it’s been aching for him ever since the last time he’s touched me.
“Did your girlfriend let you tie her up,” I tilt my head.
I look around his apartment. There’s still traces of her all over the place. A picture of them together sits on his bedside table, a woman’s sweater hangs on the back of his room door, there’s a hint of sweetness in the air coming from the automatic air freshener that I’m sure she’s responsible for. I’m jealous. I can’t help it. I rarely try to hide it.
“Why are you asking about her?”
“I’m sorry, did I hit a sore spot or something?”I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.
He could pretend to have been a good boyfriend all this time, all he wants. I know it has always been me that he wanted when he was with her.
“How many times did you close your eyes and pretend that it was me that you were fucking?” I smile teasing him.
I don’t care how tactless it is to talk about her like this. I like the reaction from him. The affirmation that, yes, it has always been me. I lean in, pressing my lips against the exposed skin of his chest. I bring my tied hands down between us and unbutton the shirt the rest of the way down.
“She didn’t like to ride you right? She didn’t like giving you head either,” I sigh. What a waste. “You haven’t had proper sex in months, right, Jay?”
Finally getting his shirt open, I run my hands up his chest. My fingers trace slowly over the swirling letters up his side. When I get to the ‘S’ in ‘pleasure’ along his ribs, he catches my wrist.
“You’re talking too much,” he says.
“Make me shut up, then,” I shoot at him.
He says nothing else. Instead, his hands come to my hips and he lifts me up. My legs come around his waist as he walks toward his bed. He’s about to let me go but I hold on tight.
“What’s wrong?” He frowns.
“Did you change the sheets?”I think about her body rolling around with his in his bed and I feel my stomach roll. I’m selfish, I know. Hypocritical, of course. I don’t give a fuck.
“Really?” He asks with a smile. He’s reading my mind. “What if I say I didn’t get them changed?”
“Then you better take me to the couch,”
“We fucked on the couch too,”
I laugh shaking my head. “Now, I know you’re bluffing. You haven’t had anything but vanilla, missionary sex with all the lights off in months,”
Jay drops me on the bed instead of responding. The smell like fabric softener and him. He’s lucky. He’s smart.
“Show me what non-vanilla missionary sex feels like then,”He stands looking down at me while I seize his body up. I don’t like how much clothes he still has on. I don’t like that fact that I still haven’t tasted any part of
“Drop the slacks, Park,”
“I don’t think that underwear is going to hold up,”
I watch as he unbuckles his belt and slowly draws it off. He loops it within itself before looping my already tied wrists. I watch hungrily as he unbuttons his slacks like I instructed. I hate to see them go. Still, they don’t come off quite yet. I hate that I can’t touch him. I think that’s the point of all of this. He wants to be in control. More than that, he knows that if my hands were free, he wouldn’t stand a damn chance.
I move so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. My eye level with his belly button. I feel him shiver as my breath makes contact with his skin. I brush my mouth over the small area where his waistband meets his skin. His hands reach up to tangle in my hair as I kiss his skin. I watch as one of his hands reaches down to pull himself out of his boxer briefs. The other hand holds my jaw roughly as he guides his dick into my mouth slowly.
I’ve never got as much pleasure from giving head as I do with him. I moan around him, not for his benefit but because it just feels to fucking good to have him on my tongue again. I close my eyes as his hips move slowly. A hand gathers my hair out of the way before holding the pile of locks tightly against the back of my head. I could do this all night. I open my eyes again, looking up at him.
He’s watching me, his eyes barely open, his mouth parted. I want to take a picture, but I also want to take him further. He’s too quiet. I move my tongue against him, pressing in waves. His hand tightens on my hair, his teeth grab onto his bottom lip. Not enough. I need more. I push foreword until my lips can’t go any further down his length.
“Fuck,” he curses loudly.
He stands still as I withdrawn and lick my lips. Our eyes stay on each other as I push forward again, this time my lips almost touch his flat stomach. I moan again, making sure the vibrations in the back of my throat last long enough that it almost seems him over the edge. He calls my name over and over like he’s begging me to stop. I think it’s my favorite sound in the world. I know when he’s about to cum because he pulls back quickly. My lips smack together in a ‘pop’. He pushes me back on the bed less than gently, but I don’t mind. I smile up at him, waiting to see what comes next.
He pushes the satin fabric up my bare thighs. He rolls the dress up until it covers only my eyes. I don’t like not being able to see him. His face, his body, the way he looked at me, it was part of the aphrodisiac. I don’t get to pout for long, though. His mouth settles on mine roughly for only a second before his lips move down to my neck. Down more, he touches my collarbones. More, his tongue rolls over the valley of my chest. His teeth scrap over my stomach. He kisses each hip slowly. My hips buck off the bed the closer he gets to where I need him.
“God, you’re so pretty. All of you,”
I smile. “Yeah? Well stop playing around,”
“Yes ma’am,”Both hands come under my ass as he holds me against his mouth.
He dives in without anymore games. His tongue moves against me hungrily. He feels like a man starved for two months. Like he hasn’t...eaten. “Jay,” I sigh. My hands move down to grip his hair. I pull at the ends, anchoring him against my body. I won’t last long. I can’t. Not when it feels like my skin is buzzing. Not when he’s feasting.
“Shit,” I yell. “Stop, stop, stop,” I breathe.
He pulls away. I can’t see him but I know he has that smirk on his mouth. The one that says he knows he’s working.
“What’s wrong,”
“It’s too much,” I feel myself shutter.
I’m so sensitive that even his breath brushing against me makes me react.
“This is what happens when you don’t see me for two months. You think I don’t see the lame guys you fuck with when we not together? You’re just as deprived as I am,”
I can’t argue. He’s right.
“Just fuck me,” I sigh still breathing heavily.
“I’m going to make you cum with my mouth first. It’s my birthday. Consider it the best birthday first you could give me,”
I scoff. “Eating me out is your birthday gift?”
“Tasting you,” He answers simply. He doesn’t let me respond.
His mouth is on me again. One hand leaves my ass and I feel his fingers spread me so his tongue can go deeper. He hums against my clit and that all it takes for my legs to lock around his ears. I cum with his name on my lips. My fingers pull at his hair roughly. I’m out of breath. It’s all too much and even as I shake around him, he doesn’t let up. Instead, his tongue rolls around me like he’s cleaning up after himself. I won’t be able to come back down to earth unless he stops touching me. When I tell him, I feel him smile against my skin before he pulls back.
“I need to touch you you,” I beg.
“Not yet,” he says immediately. He leaves for half a second. I hear him rummaging through his bedside table up by his head before he comes back. He climbs on top of my body. I feel him line himself before he moves forward roughly. His hips rocks against mine. Nothing about the way he moves against me is soft or sweet. He’s completely rough, his mouth is at my ear whispering all the dirty things he likes about my body.
“So fucking tight,” he says. “So fucking good,”
“Please, Jay,” I don’t know what I’m asking for. I just need to have my hands on him. I need to see him too. “Let me see you,”
He pushes the fabric covering my eyes up so I can see how close he is. His brows pull together in concentration. His hair is a mess, there’s a red welt rising on on his cheek. I must have scratched him when I was pulling his hair on accident. This lips are swollen too, the prettiest reddish pink. He looks so...fucking sexy. I make sure to take snapshots in my mind. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to get to touch him again. I store everything I’m feeling right now in a folder that’s labeled ‘for later’. Suddenly, he withdraws.
A hand on my hip flips me over on my stomach quickly. He pushes in again quickly. His chest presses against my back. His skin is slick with sweat. His lips press against the back of my neck while he fucks me. Between my shaky legs and my tied arms, I’m not much use. All I can do is lay as he uses my body. It’s not fair.
“Let me fucking touch you,” I moan with my face presses into the bed.
I hear him laugh behind me but he doesn’t let up. I close my eyes as another orgasm slams into my body. This one is harder. I fill like a cup that’s been overfilled and now I’m just a mess. I’m gasping, my hands grip at air, and I’m shaking. There wasn’t enough recovery between them. Jay eases off of me. He unties the belt first then gently pulls the fabric off of my skin. He kisses each wrist softly before climbing to sit at the head of the bed. He pulls me to straddle his lap.
My dress gets tossed on the floor behind me. I’m completely naked. He has his shirt on still, barely. It’s rumbled and falling off one shoulder. His slacks stayed on. He has never looked more attractive.
“I can’t,” I protest looking at our position. Thirty minutes ago I would’ve been able to rock his world while I rode him. Now I’m barely holding myself up.
“Relax. Just wrap your arms around my neck,” I do as I’m told because there’s nothing else I can do. I’m so worn out. My bare chest presses against his. We line up perfectly again and his arms come around my waist moving my body how he wants. He kisses me softly.
His fingers brush my hair away from my face. His thumb settles against my bottom lip. I open my mouth and run the side of it. He tastes like pure sex. He continues to work my hips over his. I still can’t move. When I least expect, his arms wrap around my hips and he flips us so that his body hovers over mine.
“Are you going to show me your version of vanilla missionary-“ his hips slam against mine
. “Oh, fuck,”
He laughs. “You talk way too much,”
“I hate you,” I sigh feeling my legs wrap tightly around him.
He pauses. “You don’t,”
“Right now-,”
“You don’t,” he insists.
He reaches between us his fingers rub against my clit and I can’t speak. He kisses me while he fucks me. It’s times like this that I wish that we saw each other a little more often. It’s not like I want to be with him... I just want more nights like this. More nights when I can hardly feel my legs and I’m sore in the morning. When my lips become swollen and there’s bruises left on my body from how tight he holds me. That’s what I want. Nothing more, nothing less.
Jay pulls back as he watches himself slide against me. I watch as his eyes shine with something like pride as I groan his name. I could try all I can to not feed his ego but I’ll always fail. Especially when he touches me like this.
“Give me one more, baby,”I can’t.
Still, I feel my body build as he increases the pace of his hips against mine. His fingers press into my skin hard, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Before I know it, I’m shaking around him again. Jay pulls my left leg higher on his hip as his chin drops against his chest. I’m fully out of commission. Spent. I can’t do anything but what as he cums himself, his eyes pressed shut tightly. His hips slow and he eventually falls beside me, chest heaving with each breath he struggles to push in and out of his lungs.
“Good job, pal,” I breathe with a smile
. “Pal?” He laughs.
He rolls lifting my body so he can lay with his chest pressed against my back.
“I’m going,” I yawn trying to pull out of his embrace. Jay’s arms tighten around my body, holding me against his side. He’s already half asleep but he’s still far stronger than I am. I’m pinned to his side with no hope of moving.
“Stay,” he mumbles cutely.
“You’ll get a text in the morning from your girlfriend about her overreacting or whatever and she’ll come over to keep you company,”
“You sound jealous,”
I scoff. “That the girls you date are too blinded by your face to realize you’re kind of a dick? Absolutely not,”
He hums against my skin before kissing my neck. There’s that intimacy again. The feeling that maybe this isn’t only meant for once in a blue moon. Maybe I can have my sore limbs and sticky sheets a little more regularly.
“It’s my birthday. Be nice to me,”I look at the clock beside my head.
“You have two more minutes,”He smiles, his eyes closed. He grabs my hand and pulls one finger up in front of his face like a candle.
“One more wish,” he says tiredly.
I swear this guy has stamina for days right up to the very second that he cums. Then it’s nap time.
“When I get that call in the morning, you answer it, and stop waiting months to call me,”He blows on my finger before tucking my hand in his and curling around me.
“That’s two,”
“And you’re a pain in the ass,” he laughs. “Just go to sleep,”
I watch as the clock changes, signaling the end of his birthday.
#Jay Park#AOMG#h1ghrmusic#jay park scenarios#jay park imagine#khh scenarios#khh imagines#park-jaybum writes
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We’ll Talk Tomorrow.
Word Count: 1,838
Warnings: Implied smut, Swearing, (a little bit of angst at the end?)
Pairings: Billy Hargrove X You
Summary: In the early stages of your relationship with the Keg King himself, you happen across information that may change things.
Masterlist
When you parked next to Billy Hargrove in the spring of ’84 you never thought anything would come of it, but when you found him pummelling Tommy H. on the side of your 1970 Ford Escort you knew you’d finally have to interact with him.
“Stop, stop! What the hell do you to think you’re doing?!” Pulling the two apart, you glared at both of them. Billy, only four inches taller than you was breathing hard and was wiping away the blood that was falling into his eye. Tommy, who was half a foot taller than you, was already having bruised bloom across his face and his lips were cut in several different places because of the chunky rings Billy was wearing.
“He was talking to Carol behind my back.” Tommy snarled, stepping closer to you and jabbing a finger in the direction of his opponent.
“And you think beating Billy up is going to fix it?!” You replied, pushing him away from you with your pointer finger, “take a walk, Thomas.”
“But he had no right to be talk—“
“Take a walk. Thomas.” You said, staring him down until he rolled his eyes and turned on his heel. You had known him since you were little fetuses, and while you had never been close with him, your gentle nature forced people to listen to you when you put your foot down.
You heard a barking chuckle from Billy, and your head whipped towards him with a fire in your eyes. “You.” You growled, stalking up to him and stopping once you got toe-to-toe with the Alpha. “You had no right to beat his face in, you bastard. You were in the wrong. You had no right. We graduate in two months and then we’re being sent out into the real world where there is no detention and no second chances. Grow. Up.”
Since you had put Billy in his place, he couldn't stop thinking about you. He thought of the fire in your eyes, he thought how the power rolled off you in waves, and he thought how beautiful you and your spark would look on top of him. How much he would love to draw breathy moans from your throat, and how much he would love to make that fire spark in your eyes.
He could not stop thinking about you.
So when you walked past him without so much as a glance towards you, his eyes followed you until you were out of sight. They followed the way your hair bounced with every step, and the way your hips swayed, and GOD he wanted you and whatever he wanted, he got it. He pushed himself away from Tommy and Carol to follow you down the hall and when he got to your locker, he rested his hand above your head.
“Hey.” He crooned.
“Um… Hello?” You said, raising an eyebrow and continuing to grab books that you needed for the day ahead of you. You knew he had stopped focusing on girls, and you knew his eyes followed you through the halls, so while you weren’t too surprised when he approached you this morning it wasn’t something that you exactly wanted. “Can I help you?” You asked, sighing and leaning against your locker and looking at him through your lashes.
“You kill me, you know that Y/L/N?” He sighed, pushing your hair behind your ear and pulling lightly in your turquoise dangly earring. You waved his hand away and fluffed your hair back over your ear despite the burning in your cheeks.
“I’m honestly not.” You pushed past him and headed upstairs to your biology class. You knew he was following closely behind you, and you knew he was looking at your ass. “Take a picture dude, it’ll last longer.” You turned to him and glared down. He smiled widely and placed a hand on your hip, rubbing his thumb in circular motions.
“Could I, Doll?” You glared and slapped his hand away from you before bolting upstairs and losing him in the crowd.
Okay. The lost puppy tactic was growing on you, honestly. He followed you around the school and hung around the record shop you worked at, asking you questions about records you didn't even know existed. He brought you your favorite coffee (he found that out through your best friend who was so shocked that she couldn't even think of the word ‘no’) every other day. He was nothing but charming to you, and the people you cared about so when he asked you to be his prom date (he bumped up his grades from a D- to a solid B simply to impress you) you couldn’t help but smile widely.
“Green.” You grinned.
“What?” He blinked.
“My dress is emerald green, Bill.” You had never seen the boy smile so widely in your entire life.
“Tubular.”
“Excuse me?”
You found out Billy’s dark side when you told Nancy later that day when you were tutoring her in English. She said that in November they had gotten together for a Dungeons and Dragons session and while she and Jonathan left to pick up their Chinese food order Billy had dropped by and lost it on Steve when he found Max alone with him and the black boy, Lucas. He had pushed Lucas against one of the Byers bookshelves so hard that the boy had chipped his left shoulder blade. He then turned on Steve and beat him so much he was left with a swollen face and a concussion that put him out of school for a week. You had remembered seeing Steve on his first day back, and being so afraid for his well being that you actually had nightmares about it for three days after.
You didn't realize you had been crying until Nancy reached across the table and wiped away a tear from your cheek.
“Do you mind if we cut today short? I need to take care of something.” You whispered, stone-faced. She only nodded and you slammed your books shut, shoved them into your bag, and pushed your chair away when you stood up—making it scrape on the floor, leaving marks. Surely, the librarian would have your head (you and Nancy were here every Tuesday and Thursday in the same spot) but at this point, you were seeing red.
You stormed to your car and pulled out of the parking lot without even buckling yourself up into your seat. You sped through Hawkins, through the winding roads and swinging through the roads to avoid potholes that had been there for years. Unhinged, and unhinged and scary. Immature and how could you have not seen it. He was aggressive to everyone besides you and was kind to those you cared about (excluding Steve) just to.. to what? Get in your pants? You were a fool who was wearing rose-tinted glasses and it wasn’t fun anymore. You weren’t having fun.
You arrived sooner than you expected, and you glared at the house for about five minutes before you even thought about getting out of your car. When you did, you stomped up tot he door and banged the side your fist on his door until a sweaty Billy opened the door. Any other time you would be breathless and blushing at his wet skin and at the curls clinging to his face. He smelled like a man. Pure, unadulterated man. He had a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, which was curled into a seductive grin.
“You make me blush more than any other person in the state on Indiana. You make my heart race, and you make my stomach do The Thing. You follow me around like a puppy and it's charming and it makes me feel like there's a radiator in my chest. You make me feel like every other girl in the entire school and that’s not okay with me. It’s not okay with me because you're a horrible person. I don’t know what you're going through at home or in your head because you have this macho cardboard cutout you hold in front of yourself but whatever it is, it’s no excuse to be a racist asshole who breaks kids shoulder blades and beats in peoples faces. It’s not okay with me because I don't know who you are and I can’t start something with a stranger.” You said, face red and flustered.
“You know me, Kitten. You know me.” His voice broke.
“No, I don’t. It’s been two months and I haven't met your parents. I don’t know if you guys eat dinner together, or if you know how to throw a baseball. I don't know if you have family game nights, but how you talk about your sister I doubt it. I don't know where your mom is, or if you have a good relationship with your dad. I don't even know if you have a pet, or have ever had a pet. Do you have a fish? I wouldn't fucking know,” You punched his chest without any gusto and continued doing so until you started putting effort behind it.
“Kitten. Baby girl. Princess. Please.” he said grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him. You resisted against hugging him but stepped closer to him nevertheless.
“What do you want from this?” You stepped away from him to motion between the two of you with your hand. “Have you just been leading me on to fuck me? Is that all you wanted? You thought I was just playing hard to get and- and you thought I was something to conquer? What do you want from this, Billy.” You whimpered, leaning against the post of the porch and staring at your feet.
“I’m not good at this.” He said after a moment of silence. You looked up at him. “I’m not good at relationships. I don’t have a good relationship with my family. I don't have good relationships with girls and I don't have good relationships with any of my friends. The only good relationship I’ve ever had was with my—“ He took a breath and stepped closer. He put a hand up to your neck and swiped his hand across your cheek. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up. I really like you and it makes me feel like a little preschooler and I don’t know, baby. It started out with wanting your body. And then you started giving me the time of day and something changed. When we were having milkshakes it was the first time I wanted someone to stick around— and yeah. I’m an asshole. I’m racist, and I’m a dickhead who doesn’t handle emotions because I haven't had any good influences in my life.” He whimpered.
“That doesn’t excuse your behavior, Billy.” You sighed, leaning into his hand.
“I know, but that was old me. That was November me and now it’s June and we’re graduating in two weeks and I really like you, Y/N.”
“I need to think, okay? Please.”
“Kitten—“
“Please.” You whispered, turning away and walking to your car.
#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove#billy#billy Hargrove x you#billy hargrove imagine#stranger things#stranger things 2#beyond stranger things#dustin henderson#stranger spoilers#mike wheeler#max mayfield#dacre montgomery#dacre#dacre montgomery x reader#dacre montgomery imagine#steve harrington#nancy wheeler#Nancy wheeler x you#will byers#lucas sinclair#jonathan byers#imagine#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things blurb#stranger things headcannon#billy Hargrove headcannon#billy Hargrove blurb#billy Hargrove angst
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There was a Garden
Tfc modern fae au where Andrew kidnaps abused children and Neil is the witch stuck dealing with him
Read on Ao3
The forest on the outskirts of the town are vast and wild with winding roads and lost trails. Most of the townsfolk wouldn’t dare stepping into it, hell, most wouldn’t even consider stepping near it, not without a chest of iron and fifty different charms around their necks and a damn good reason. But Neil is allowed this or, more so, Neil is confident enough in his abilities to bypass the unspoken rules of the enchanted land.
The magick of the the earth presses into him as he walks deeper into the trees entrances, and Neil breathes through it like anyone else would breathe through a strong fresh breeze. Most people wouldn’t be able to move through the thickness of the spells, too mundane to break through it without serious injury or ripping a hole in their own time frame. (The forest people did love their time games as it was.) But magick is Neil's native tongue, a second skin that feels like relief as it passes through him and he sighs happily as it twists around his pendants.
A trees root moves away from his feet and he makes sure not to step on the vivid purple flowers at the base of its trunk. A branch swings out of his way in thanks and he smiles at it as he moves along.
A clearing comes into view, one circled with pink blossoming trees and blue, black, and neon green flowers. A rock circle covered in orange moss and yellow vines sits inside the tree ring, and Neil is careful not to step inside the flowers.
A dark aura enunciates itself, pressing dark magick into Neil's bones and making him grit his teeth as he pushes back the instinctive fear.
"Would you stop that?" Neil snaps as shadows twist at his ankles, "I’m not a lost college student, you don’t have to ward me off asshole."
Silence that presses danger into the corners of Neil's mind follows and Neil feels his irritation grow. "I know your here Andrew, you're not fooling me."
The shadows tighten their grip and Neil sighs exasperatingly. "Really? Now your just being petty."
A sharp wind sweeps Neil's red curls into his eyes and Neil irritably shoves them back. "Stop being a child Andrew! This is getting ridiculous!"
The shadows start to tug him, trying to get him to move past the flowers while a female voice whispers about the treasures that lay in the center on the rocks.
Neil rolls his eyes. "Do you really think I'm so stupid that I'd walk straight into a fairy ring?"
"I wouldn't be surprised; you’ve done plenty of stupid shit in the past."
The shadows disappear from Neil's feet and he turns around with his arms crossed, staring down the small blond haired creature in front of him. "Was that really necessary?"
Andrew stares at him with his usual sense of apathy. "It amused me greatly."
"Gods, your such a-" Neil rubs his temples in hopes of calming down his anger.
Andrew watches him silently with an air that suggests hes enjoying this before his boredom inevitably wins out. "Well?"
Neil’s eyes snap to him and he glares. "You know why I'm here, I thought we had an agreement."
Andrew shifts ever so slightly but Neil would have to be an ordinary to not feel that wave of energy he just let off.
"I didn’t break our deal if that’s what your implying."
Neil throws his hands up. "You stole a child!"
Andrew shrugs. " I borrowed a child, big difference."
Neil rubs his temples again."No, Andrew, it's really not, we talked about this."
"No, 'Neil'," Andrew says with the same loathing he always has when he speaks Neil's name, "You talked and assumed I listened."
"Dammit, Andrew, I'm not arguing about this again! Can you just give back the child to her parents so I can be done with this?"
Andrews eyes darkened, along with the trees and air. "No."
Neil looks at him for a moment, his golden hair shining through the surrounding darkness, his pale skin transparent in his magick, his eyes fire with determination.
Neil feels his anger fade into the depths of his soul and takes a breath to cleanse himself.
"Okay," He says softly, "Then will you give her to me?"
The darkness shrinks down, back into Andrew's being, and the anger on his face is replaced with pain.
They stay like that, staring at one another as they have many times before, bitter unspoken truths and hidden darkness between them.
Finally Andrew speaks, "Her father hurts her." His eyes are once again black with his hatred of humanities cruelties. "He waits until her mother is too drunk to notice when he slips into her room."
Neil's eyes soon reflect Andrew's own, a painfully understanding inside them. "I see."
"You will not give her back to them."
"Andrew you know I wouldn't." Neil sighs, running a hand through his hair. "But she can't stay in the fae world, 'Drew, you know how it effects mortals."
Andrew looks away from him, his jaw set and stance defensive. Neil waits patiently for his shoulders to drop and for the strain to leave his brow.
"I promise I won't let her parents get anywhere close to her, she's under my protection now, you have my word."
Andrew stares at him in surprise, as if it still caught him off guard every time Neil put his life on the line for anothers'. He quickly dispels the emotion, looking again as apathetic as he always does.
"I have your word, but do I have your name?"
Neil can't fight down the smile that those words summons. It's nearly tradition for their deals to end with Andrew saying that, always followed by Neil's response of,
"Never." He grins with all of his teeth, and laughs as Andrew glowers at him.
"I'll get it from you one day." He says without doubt.
Neil's smile strains a little, "I'll be dead before you figure it out."
Andrew stares at him like he can see right through him and Neil forces himself not to shiver.
"We have a deal," He says firmly, "I won't let that happen."
Neil thinks of red rubies soaked in blood, his mother's hair as it fell out of her skull and her eyes turned to blood, his father's eyes reflected in a boiling cauldron of black liquid that twisted itself into an arm. Sorry Andrew, Neil thinks. There are more powerful things than fae.
Neil shoves the memories aside. "So, the girl?"
Silence falls again and Neil tries not to roll his eyes at how dramatic Andrew is. Andrew finally shrugs and waves a hand, summoning a portal with it. It hovers over the rocks and a girl with frizzy brown hair falls softly onto the bed of flowers in the center of them.
"Would you like to get her?" Andrew says lazily.
Neil cant resist rolling his eyes this time. "Hilarious aren't you."
Andrew snorts and side steps around Neil, going into his circle to grab the girl and bring her to the outer rim.
He sets her down and then kneels in front of her. "Okay Beth, it's time for us to part ways."
Beth shakes her head frantically. "N-No! I can't go back! You promised!" She clings desperately to Andrew and Neil feels his heart swell.
Andrew clenches her tightly to his chest. "And I meant it. I'll never let him touch you again." With obviously reluctance he gently pushes her away from him. "But you can't stay with me, it's not safe for you." He looks up at Neil. "This is Neil. He promised me he would keep you safe and away from your parents." He looks down at Beth again, at her big brown eyes swelled with unshed tears, "You can trust him. He won't harm you."
Beth looks between Andrew and Neil for a few moments before whispering. "Are you sure?"
Neil sits down next to her, careful not to get too close, "Hey Beth? I swear to you on my life that I won't let anybody hurt you okay? A witches' word is sound, I can't break it, even if I wanted to."
Beth looks at him with wide eyes, "You're a witch?"
Neil smiles at her obvious awe and nods.
Beth turns back to Andrew. "Will I see you again?"
Andrew looks to Neil, a question in his eyes, and Neil nods. Andrew looks to Beth, "Whenever you want to. Neil knows how to find me, so if you ever do, ask him and he'll show you the way."Andrew pats her head twice before standing.
Beth bites her lip hard before shaking her head once and standing up with only a small tremor. She looks up at Neil with fire blazing in her eyes and clenched fists. "Okay," She says,"I'm ready to go now."
Neil smiles and holds out his hand. As she takes his he notices a few bracelets of finely carved charms that could only be made by a fae. Neil decides to keep the soft small smile that spread across his face to himself. "Then we're off."
Beth turns around and waves. "Bye 'Drew! I'll be back!"
The fae waves back, watching as the two disappear between the trees and the magick, waiting until all he feels is the remnants of Neil's intoxicating aura and Beth's mortal foot prints, before turning around and walking in another world, one without the complications of strange witches and hurt children.
#andreil#tfc#fae au#my fic#my writing#fae!Andrew#andrew takes children away from abusive parents#neil just wants the townspeople to leave him alone about the missing kids
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Chapter One-Hundred Seventy-One: Beatrice and Calix
Beatrice returned to the private apartment tucked away in the gatehouse of the castle, the bitter January air cutting her pale skin with shards of ice, bringing out a painful red hue on the Samoan’s dry cheeks. She ducked into the suite and slammed the door shut behind her, a smile on her face when she saw Calix sitting in the armchair by the window, waiting for her alone.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked, setting her pink quilted duffle bag on the terracotta tiled floor along with her boyfriend’s backpack and briefcase, both crammed full despite the undetectable extension charms on them.
Calix turned slightly in the cozy armchair, a bright smile on his bruised face. A rosy, fireside hue ran into the poppy marks on his skin, contrasting the groggy mess of hair and tight skin and clear-cut bones. He felt all skin and bones. There wasn’t much left of him. Alive. But, plagued.
He patted the side of the armchair softly, a weak sound rumbling in his frail chest. “I feel better. Much better now you’re here, sweetheart.”
Beatrice beamed and sat down on the arm of the chair, perched carefully like a swan on the upholstered side. “Ready to go home, pele?” she asked, tenderly brushing his long hair back off his forehead, wanting nothing more than to clean the grime from his tangled locks once they were safely settled in St. Mungo’s.
Calix’s lower lip started to quiver as he felt Beatrice’s fingers graze his scalp, catching in the thickened knots near the roots. He had missed her. He had missed them all. He had convinced himself he was going to die alone. The sudden intimacy, the stupidest and simplest of gestures, broke him.
He collapsed sideways, resting his head on Beatrice’s lap and sobbed uncontrollably. “Yes… please…” he whimpered, shattered by his first humane interaction in a long time.
The petite witch froze up for a moment at the way the gentle soul crumbled beneath her delicate touch, though she did not withdraw. He needed her now more than ever and it would take an act of God to tear her from him again. “C’mon. Let’s go,” she said after a few minutes, standing again though she held his battered hand tightly in hers still. “We don’t want to be late for the portal back home,” she teased lightly, brushing the sorrow aside with a little giggle as she moved to pick up her duffle bag.
Sniffling and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, Calix slowly pushed himself out of the armchair. His knees knocked and he clung gratefully to Beatrice’s arm for physical support and for emotional anchorage, the dark claws of memory raking at his mind as the blood dropped to his feet.
At least all horrors would be behind them for a while.
“C’mon! Let’s go!” Beatrice shouted at the other students storming into the castle like a flood, their ceaseless screaming ringing in her ears. She struggled to swallow the lump in her throat, the bright, hot red blood sprayed across the snow white field demanding to be seen, not just from the corner of her eye as she helped Calix limp towards the school. Wetting her desiccated lips with her sandpaper dry tongue, she couldn’t resist a glance at the meadow littered with shredded appendages, crimson staining the pure field among scattered torsos and heads torn apart as easily as two halves of a paper.
Not again. Oh Merlin, not again.
Vampires? Those were vampires!
The smell of blood and viscera dragged into the light by grey claws and pointed teeth, coated Calix’s throat like a dense, cold fog. The acrid taste brought Crix lurching to his side, the sadistic games they played vividly painted red in his mind’s eye. He was growing used to the sensation of bloody metal.
He struggled to match the pace of the stampeding students, the clattering, and hammering of feet, the roars of terror mixed with the stomach-churning screams of murderous creatures.
He dragged himself behind Beatrice, trying desperately to call to her, stretching off his hand. But, he was too weak. He needed to get to her necklace. He just couldn’t.
“Bea…” he called his voice a mere whisper in the crowd, swallowed by the ravaging crowd.
The Samoan’s head whipped around at the sound of a weak voice weakly calling out to her. Her brown eyes went wild with fear, not willing to risk losing her love again for the second time that day. “Calix. Honey, c'mon, we gotta move,” she hastened, throwing his heavy arm around her shoulders, desperately helping guide him the last few yards towards the castle when she felt a sudden piercing pain in her elbow drawing her attention away. Letting out a high pitched scream, she grimaced and glanced behind her, heart skipping a beat when she saw one of the beasts had dug its claws into her arm and was fast approaching her again with its gaping maw.
She pulled her wand and pointed at the ghoulish monstrosity, the alarmingly swift vampires dashing towards the stragglers in a swarm, uttering the first defensive spell to come to her mind: “Avada Kedavra.”
The vampire was close. Too close. He heard the flesh rip before he heard his girlfriend scream, a desperate drive propelling him forward. He needed that necklace.
He wrapped his arm around Beatrice’s shoulders, pulling himself closer to her and slamming his hand against her chest as she raised her wand. Her words were lost in the rush, the sudden shimmer of magic as his fingers found the protective necklace behind her blouse.
The pain was agonising. The fire singed through his nerves, his life force seeping into the spell, and black spots appearing in his vision as the gemstones in the constellation sang happily in response to his touch.
A glittering shield formed around them, encasing the lovers and a few other students in a dome of pale pink light. Calix’s knees gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the ground, lightheaded and drained. In front of him, merely an outstretched limb from where he fell, the lifeless body of the vampire crumbled to the meadow floor.
Had Bea… no… she… how?
“Calix!” Beatrice cried, watching her boyfriend fall into the snow drift just a few feet away from the doors where Doctor Evans and Professor Owa were urgently beckoning them to safety. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes freeze in the arctic temperatures and pointed her wand at him, quickly levitating him into the stony fortress towering above their heads, a safe haven from the gory slaughter staining the Isle Velum with the innocent lives of dozens, if not hundreds of the world’s best and brightest young witches and wizards.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Calix Hipposus Galen!” she begged, briskly passing Ella and Enzo as she moved the Irishman further into the hallway, setting him on a bench along the wall to rest. “Don’t you dare!”
Calix’s shield protected the students as they bolted into the castle, fleeing for their lives. He passed Enzo and Ella in the hallway, their wands aglow with battle magic. His shield, released from its emergency confines, would buy them some time. But, not much. He was too weak for anything other than a few minutes.
He could hear the vampires, blood-lustful monsters, clawing at the bubble. The piercing sound was horrendous. It reminded Calix of sharp nails on a chalkboard. They would break through eventually.
He looked to Beatrice as she put him down, smiling timidly. His eyes were half closed yet grey storms were beginning to tempestuously cluster behind the drooping lids. “And leave you? Not a fucking chance… just… need… a breather, that’s all. I was trying…”
Beatrice balled her hands into fists, clenching his blue flannel shirt in her tiny hands, burying her face in his chest. “Please don’t try anything right now, my love. Just take care of yourself,” she mumbled into his ear, resting her head on his shoulder. “I can’t lose you. Not again.”
Calix’s chest rattled with pain and devotion. He gently placed his shaking fingers under Beatrice’s chin and pushed upwards, the golden necklace hanging free. She’d used his gift to call for him before when he couldn’t answer; he would swear to never let that happen again. “I’m not going anywhere, ever, sweetheart… promise…”
He rested his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know if they were going to survive the night. There were so many students dead. What’s a few more? Life seemed so short. And yet, he was living.
“We… need to help…”
The Samoan witch shook her head vigorously, making herself dizzy with the motion until a shadow came and blocked the candlelight from falling in their faces: Professor Vincent. “Not now, you don’t, Calix. You, young man, need to rest. We’ve lost too many today already, and I’m sure Ms. Selwyn here can attest to this: you need to save your strength if you want to be of any help later,” he said, clapping his hand on the stubborn wizard’s free shoulder.
“Later?” Calix questioned, his eyes fixed on the main doorway. He could see the faint cracks beginning to form in his shield. He could feel it beginning to give. He felt useless, worthless; he should be there protecting the ones he cared about, not cowering in the candlelight and hoping that later would come soon.
Nevertheless, he nodded. He simply had no choice.
Beatrice took his hand in hers and laced their fingers together, watching with grief-filled eyes as the man she loved reluctantly released his control, for the time being, a devious thought tugging at the back of her mind. “Just for now,” she whispered, stroking his snow speckled stubbly beard keeping his bruised chin well hidden from her troubled chocolate eyes. “Now you need to take care of yourself. Please.”
“Okay, okay,” Calix said tiredly, lowering his head. His heart thundered loud enough to hear, disloyally mimicking the savagery of the vampires assault. He hated being hidden in the background. There was war. He should be with Enzo and Ella. He should be healing or protecting, not sitting broken on a bench.
He looked down into Beatrice’s grief-stricken eyes, irises wide and brimming with worried exasperation. She didn’t deserve this. She was too good for this. She didn’t deserve any of this. None of them did.
“I won’t do anything stupid… I’ll just sit here… but, if you need a healer…”
Vincent smiled down at the young couple and nodded before departing to help the other professors charm and lock all the doors. “You’ll be the first one I come to,” he shouted over his shoulder.
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