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katsuhera · 3 years

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paranoia

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader tw/warnings: nsfw (18+), dumbification, alcohol, some choking, some degradation, some cockwarming, canon au but not relevant to story, aged up characters (18) wc: 4k

“paranoia, anyone?” kaminari asked, wriggling his eyebrows at the group. tonight was a chill drinking night, celebrating the start to summer vacation.

“ooh! i’m down,” mina exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. you sat in the corner, just blissfully happy and quiet. you hadn’t drunk too much yet, but you could undoubtedly feel a light buzzing coursing throughout your veins, enough to make you just want to sit and recalibrate as everyone else moved animatedly around you.

“what’s that again?” kirishima asked, sipping his drink. “i forgot how to play, i think.”

“okay, okay, wait, let’s all sit in a circle,” kaminari started, waving his hands around. “it’ll be easier that way.”

“tch,” bakugou scoffed, a surly look on his face as kirishima forced him to scoot closer to the rest of the group. “do we have to? this is probably a shitty game.”

“relax, it’s fun, i swear,” mina assured him, her gentle hand on your shoulder encouraging you to scoot in closer as well. “one of my favorite drunk games! i promise.”

“okay, so here’s how we play,” kaminari said. “we go in a circle, like clockwise or counter-clockwise, whatever, and each person whispers a question to whoever’s next to them, and the answer has to be the name of someone in this room.”

“it sounds kind of complicated but you’ll understand once we play,” mina said. “so, for example, i’m sitting next to kirishima – i will ask him a question that only he can hear, like, ‘who has the coolest quirk?’ and he’ll say like ‘todoroki,’ or something, out loud for everyone to hear. and if todoroki wants to know what the question was, he has to take a shot, and then kirishima will expose the question.”

kaminari nodded, adding on: “it goes like that, but usually the questions get… spicy.” he smiled toothily, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint to them. “all questions are fair game! let’s not be mean, though.”

“let me grab some drinks, but you guys can get started!” mina said, getting up and heading off to the kitchen.

you glanced around the circle, giggling inwardly at how dazed iida and some of your other classmates seemed. iida in particular never really got around to drinking much, but when he did, he was predictably a lightweight.

everyone else seemed to be fine and vibing, and you curled your knees into your chest as you got comfortable, waiting for the game to start. drinking games were always fun with your class, especially when mina and the rest of their squad took control.

“who wants to go first?” kaminari asked, looking around.

“i can,” todoroki volunteered quietly, surprising everyone else.

“oh? bet, then go ahead and ask bakugo a question. we’ll go counter-clockwise, then,” kaminari piped up, getting up a little to help mina set the bottles of alcohol and plastic shot glasses down in the middle.

a hushed silence fell over the group as todoroki sat pensively, thinking of a question, before leaning in to bakugou’s grimacing face.

“what a stupid question,” bakugou snickered, and answered without missing a beat. “deku.”

everyone nearly snapped their necks to turn around and look at midoriya.

“do you want to know what the question was?” mina asked.

midoriya shook his head violently. “i think i’m good.”

bakugou sneered before cracking his neck and pausing to think of a question for kirishima.

“hurry up, bro,” kirishima teased, earning a scowl from bakugou.

“shut the fuck up,” he growled, leaning in to whisper his question.

you loved watching their best friend dynamic. bakugou was normally on everyone’s bad side, his antagonizing manner turning most people who met him off from interacting with him ever again. but with the way he interacted with kirishima, you knew that he probably had a softer side that he was either too embarrassed of or insecure to let on.

you felt your cheeks flush as you lost yourself in thought, staring at the redhead and the blonde – well, mostly the blonde, and the way his triceps flexed smoothly as bakugou leaned on his arm to get closer to kirishima.

“what are you staring at?” mina whispered excitedly in your ear. startled, you snapped your head to the side to look at her.

“nothing, nothing,” you murmured, embarrassed. if mina knew, you’d never hear the end of it.

“um...,” kirishima started, his pale cheeks flushed crimson as he prefaced his response to bakugou’s question. his eyes darted worriedly around the circle, lingering for a bit on jirou. “jirou… i think.”

jirou’s head immediately shot up from its cozy spot on kaminari’s shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she looked at kirishima. “shot,” she demanded, eliciting laughs from the group. mina poured one out for her and handed it over, giggling as jirou downed it easily, not even a hint of a wince on her face.

“what was the question?” she asked, looking straight at kirishima, making him blush even further.

“who here is…” his voice trailed off meekly.

“who here’s most likely to have a daddy kink,” bakugou grinned, his vermillion eyes glinting with amusement. “interesting… jirou, hah? i can see it.”

you smiled as you watched their interaction spiral – you’d never seen jirou more embarrassed in her life. kaminari watched on in mild amusement, though you could tell that the tips of his ears were also red.

interesting, maybe it is true, you mused to yourself. can’t blame her, though.

“my turn! ask me a question, kiri,” mina said, clapping her hands and sipping her drink.

kirishima paused in thought before covering his lips and her ear with his hand.

“stop!” mina laughed, gently slapping his shoulder. “you really asked me this knowing who i’d say?”

“yeah,” kirishima chuckled. “go on, say it.”

“mr. bakugou katsuki,” mina said, rolling her eyes. “you want a shot, right?”

“tch,” he responded, grabbing the bottle. “tell me the damn question.”

mina waited for the alcohol to make its way down his throat before she exposed herself.

“‘who here do i think will get married last?’”

“and you said me?” he asked, indignant. “oi, raccoon eyes–”

“oh my god, relax,” she replied offhandedly. “clearly it’s because you’re going to be the number one hero or whatever and you won’t have time for marriage. anyway, i get to ask y/n next!”

bakugou growled, but left it alone, choosing to sit and glower at her instead.

“i’ve got a good one,” mina smirked, and immediately you knew that you were in for a tricky question.

“who here would you fuck?” she whispered, giggling as she pulled away and watched for your reaction.

you knew it was coming. not necessarily to you, but you knew that question was coming. it’s always asked. you sighed, regretting not sitting next to deku or momo who probably would have gone easy on you with the questions.

good lord mina, you thought frustratedly, putting your palm to your forehead.

“i hate you,” you said, monotoned, much to mina’s glee. “i need a shot before i answer.”

“here you go, bestie!” she replied, immediately pouring one out for you.

everyone else looked on eagerly, murmuring as you downed the shot, making a face as the alcohol burned its way down your throat.

“damn, what kind of question needs a shot before getting answered?” kaminari asked aloud, watching you with wide eyes.

you took a deep breath, looking around the group and trying to decide on who to choose. but your actions were futile; for you, there was only one answer – and there had only ever been one answer, really.

“... bakugou,” you said finally, hesitating to make eye contact with him.

“oh?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “shot, raccoon eyes.”

“i already poured one for you!” she said happily, handing it to him. within a second, his cup was empty.

“so? spit it out, y/n,” he grinned.

“who here… would i fuck,” you said the last word with finality, anticipating the hoots and chuckles you’d get from the group.

“this is such a lewd conversation,” iida interjected abruptly, waving his hands towards the middle of the circle. “we shouldn’t–”

“you’d fuck bakugou?” kaminari asked you, his eyes wide with shock. “why?”

“what do you mean?” you felt blood rush to your face, engulfing you in slight embarrassment as you actively tried to avoid the gleaming crimson eyes that were boring holes into the side of your skull.

“i can see it, i think,” momo said, smiling at you. you were sure that what she said was meant to be reassuring, but you weren’t so sure of how helpful it was at the moment.

“so, bakugou, got anything to say?” kirishima asked with a wink, slapping his friend’s shoulder.

he was uncharacteristically silent as the rest of your peers held their breath, waiting for his response.

“tch,” he started, eyes darting to yours. “just that i’m not surprised.”

you held his gaze somewhat defiantly, thanks to the alcohol. sober you would have cast your eyes down immediately, praying for the moment to be over.

“okay, okay! next, next – gotta keep the game moving,” mina said, not wanting you to have to stay in the spotlight for too long. “y/n, ask kaminari something.”

your mind was undeniably foggy with the way you could feel bakugou’s eyes burning into your head, and you weren’t even sure how you were able to come up with a question on the spot. you muttered something stupid about who would be most likely to get robbed, and thankfully, his answer and the following questions kept the game moving along smoothly.

as the night progressed, everyone found themselves drunker and more comfortable with each other, though the questions had definitely gotten spicier. as uraraka rested her head on midoriya’s lap and jirou found herself leaning into kaminari’s arm, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute they looked. your class had come a long way since your first year together.

“i’m going to pee,” you announced, getting up and wobbling as the alcohol rushed to your head.

“oh shit, are you good?” mina asked, getting up to try and stabilize you, despite not being too stable herself.

“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” you said, waving her off. “bathroom’s right there, i’ll be good.”

you stumbled your way over, stepping delicately over kirishima’s legs as you cut through the circle.

you used your time in the bathroom alone to try and sober yourself up. the sensation of the running cold water on your skin seemed to wake you up, and you examined yourself in the mirror.

fuck… i’m drunk, you thought after a couple of moments, giggling at the realization. disheveled strands of hair framed your face, and your eyes stayed unfocused no matter how hard you tried to get them to focus. you sighed, thinking that that was the best it was going to get, accepting your probable future hangover.

you opened the door, wringing your hands dry when an unfamiliar hand grabbed at your wrist, swallowing it in its large palm.

“bakugou?” you gasped, startled. “what…? is something wrong?”

he continued to stare at you, his large figure slowly backing you up into the wall, his body encaging you.

“did you mean it?” he asked lowly.

“what?”

“don’t be stupid,” he said impatiently. “your answer to raccoon eyes’ question.”

oh.

“i…,” you spoke hesitantly. how the fuck were you even supposed to answer that? “yeah, i guess.”

“you ‘guess’? is that a yes or a no?” he stepped in closer, backing you impossibly closer into the wall. you cowered from his stare, his body suddenly seeming much larger than you’d ever noticed before.

“i mean, yeah, i would,” your voice came out small, despite all of the mock defiance you held in your stare just an hour prior. “happy?”

he paused, holding his breath and searching your face intently. his expression was unreadable; normally, his lips were pulled into a grimace – but now, they sat in a neutral position. his eyes were the only elements of his face that gave away some semblance of emotion.

“... yeah,” he replied finally. “you could say that.”

“huh?” you asked, confused.

“come,” bakugou replied simply, tugging at your wrist and heading for the bedrooms upstairs.

“what? where are we going?” you could barely keep up with his strides. “bakugou, they’ll notice if we’re gone–”

“let them,” he sneered. “everyone’s pretty much knocked out, anyway.”

your heart throbbed in your chest as you followed him up the stairs, still slightly shell-shocked by his actions.

there’s no way this is happening right now, you thought incredulously, the only thing grounding you being the feeling of his hand on your wrist. well, i guess i didn’t lie – i would fuck him, you thought, observing the way his back muscles rippled through his black tank top. you weren’t lying – you just never thought he’d take you up on it.

you rounded the corner, realizing suddenly that he was taking you to his room – his private, secluded room that no one in the class had so far had the privilege of seeing.

“your room, bakugou? what an honor,” you giggled teasingly.

“shut it,” he growled, but you knew that he was all bark and no bite at this point.

his pace was fast and before you knew it, you were already in his room, pushed up against his door with your wrists pinned against it as he towered over you.

“you should have said something earlier, princess, maybe this would have happened a long time ago,” he said, his breath hot on your neck.

you opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by his lips on yours, urgent and passionate.

his tongue danced with yours as your teeth gnashed slightly; the both of you were drunk and sloppy, falling into each other as you let your thoughts swirl into nothingness.

he pressed his hips forward into yours, and you gasped slightly at the feeling of his cock stiffening behind his sweats. automatically, you rolled your hips into his, eliciting a low groan from him.

“not gonna last very long if you keep doing that, princess,” he murmured against your lips.

“huh? aiming to be a pro hero and you can’t handle that?” you teased, but were swiftly cut off as his right hand circled your neck, his left finding purchase against the small of your back as he swiveled you around to toss you on his bed.

“oi, don’t test me,” bakugou said, immediately hovering over you, supporting himself with both hands on each side of you and his knee in between your thighs.

he leaned in to suck at your neck, his hand sliding under your shirt to grasp at your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers.

a dull ache started to pulse in your core, and you could feel yourself getting wetter, soaking the thin panties you wore. it didn’t help that with his ministrations, bakugou pressed his knee harder into you, as if knowing that you were desperate for some friction.

you arched your back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to bring him closer to you.

“desperate slut,” he chuckled darkly, nipping at your neck. “you’re lucky i wanted this, too.”

“oh? is that a confession, bakugou?” you asked smugly.

“you wish,” he replied snarkily, fisting your shirt and tugging it up, exposing your breasts. he moved his head down, planting wet kisses across your chest while pulling your bra down, the soft flesh spilling out of the restraining fabric.

a light buzzing filled your body – anticipation mixed with alcohol, and your mind was blurry, unable to focus on a single thought at a time. you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging softly at the blonde locks as his tongue lapped gentle circles over your nipple.

he brought his other hand down to pull at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you lifted your hips, making it easier for him. as his fingers met your clothed cunt, he laughed darkly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“this wet for me, princess?”

you inadvertently tried to close your thighs, an attempt to hide the unmistakable dark spot that had formed at the crotch of your panties.

“no no, don’t hide,” he crooned, dipping his finger below the waistband of the lace cloth. “where’s all the brattiness from earlier, hmm?”

“tch,” you scoffed, tugging harder at his hair as you were at a loss of words.

smoothly, he pulled the fabric down, a low moan falling from his throat as he watched the string of slick that connected you to your panties.

slowly, he glided a finger up your entrance, gathering your arousal on it before shoving it into your mouth, forcing you to clean it off. he watched each and every one of your movements – like a hawk watching its prey.

not wanting to be the only one exposed, you moved your hand down to tug gently at his sweats, silently asking him to take them off. he listened, removing them easily and throwing his sweats and boxers across the room.

“you look so fucking pretty under me, you know that?” he asked, enamored by the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked his finger clean. “wish we could have done this earlier.”

he slapped his cock on your cunt teasingly before sliding the swollen head up and down your entrance, eliciting small whines from you. you’d never felt more needy in your life – just the mere feeling of his cock near your pussy drove you nearly insane with want, the desire to be filled up.

without warning, he pushed the head in, grinning at the gasp you emitted.

“fuck!” you breathed, eyebrows furrowed as you felt yourself already having to stretch to accommodate him.

“i’ve barely even done anything,” he responded, his grin growing even cockier. slowly, he pushed further inside you, holding back his own moans as he felt your fleshy walls clench around him. “fuck, you’re fucking tight though, princess.”

it burned for a second before the pain dissipated, and you found yourself craving more. you rolled your hips into his again, needing movement.

“tch,” he said, feeling your hips grind into his. “so needy.”

he pulled out slowly before thrusting into you again, hard and fast, ignoring the mewls and whines that had started to bubble up your throat.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, so preoccupied were you with the sensation of being so, so full that you couldn’t form coherent thoughts.

with each thrust of his hips, your breasts bounced enticingly, causing bakugou to chew the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from showing any sign of vulnerability. but it was too difficult – you were just so pretty, a fucked-out mess underneath him.

the sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, to the point where you were sure that if any of your friends on the floor below listened closely enough, they could figure out what was happening.

“baku-gou, too l-loud,” you gasped, trying to choke out the words despite the pace at which he was going.

“so? they’re just extras, let them hear,” he growled, pounding into you particularly hard for good measure.

you couldn’t hold back your moans any longer, all of them spilling out at once, falling upon his ears like music.

“god- fuck, bakugou,” you panted, your nails leaving angry red marks on his back.

wordlessly, he moved a finger to your clit, rubbing small circles into it, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your legs spasmed around him, and you wrapped them tightly around his hips, slowing his movements but unable to fully stop them. you were dangerously approaching your orgasm, and you could feel your vision start to glaze over – the only thing you could make out was the image of his eyes, red and shining, staring at you, as if willing you to cum.

your nails dug crescent-shaped marks into his flesh as you approached the edge. “‘m gonna c-cum,” you managed, creasing your forehead in concentration.

he pressed his finger harder into your puffy clit, his strokes becoming longer and more deliberate.

“yeah? then go ahead and cum, princess.”

waves of hot ecstasy rolled over you, pure bliss washing your mind blank of any thoughts. bakugou’s own hips stuttered as you clenched around him, convulsing as you rode out your orgasm.

“christ, y/n, feels so fucking good,” he muttered, letting you ride it out for a bit longer before he flipped you onto your stomach, fisting your hair.

“ah!” you cried out, your walls still fluttering around him despite the pain you felt from your scalp.

he pressed a palm into your lower back, forcing you into a deeper arch as he started to pound into you again, his head lolling back in pleasure.

bakugou couldn’t get enough of the way your ass bounced with each thrust, and he grabbed onto your left hip for support, starting to quicken his pace.

“mmnh–, more, bakugou,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling back as your tongue peeked through your parted lips. you gave up on trying to think – you gave in entirely to him.

“more? fucking slut,” he said, but in truth, your mewls and moans went straight to his dick, forcing him closer and closer to his own threatening climax.

you’d started to back your ass into him, too, matching his pace, and it was nearly too much for him to bear.

“shit,” he hissed. “‘m gonna cum, princess.”

“inside, please–!” you gasped, desperate to feel yourself filled to the brim with his cum.

that was enough for him, and he let go, shooting white hot spurts of cum into you, painting your walls white with his seed.

he cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as it softened, despite the way you continued to clench around him, sucking up all of his cum and refusing to let go.

you whined as he pulled out, the sensation of cool air suddenly surrounding your pussy making you sensitive. bakugou watched, entranced, as trickles of cum oozed out from your entrance before he stuffed some back in with his finger.

gently, he helped you onto your back and flopped to your side, quiet, pensive. you lay catching your breath, but suddenly felt the urge to cover yourself up.

as if he could read your mind, he got up and got dressed, leaving the room.

is that… it? you thought, suddenly apprehensive. you, too, wanted to get dressed, but the trickle of cum making its way down your legs was too uncomfortable.

within seconds, bakugou re-entered the room, a wet rag in hand.

“you’re back?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“what? yeah, i left to get this,” he responded, confused and holding up the rag. “did you think i’d leave you like this?”

“... dunno,” you responded, a little taken aback.

he knelt by the bed, cleaning you up gently and sliding your panties back up your legs.

you’d started to become more clearheaded, despite the alcohol still buzzing throughout your system.

“i didn’t know you wanted this, too,” you said quietly, after a few pauses of silence. briefly, you wondered if you would have had the courage to be so honest if not for the alcohol.

“... i always did,” he responded, averting his gaze and instead shifting his attention to finding your shorts.

your heart beat wildly in your chest as you watched his face, pale with a rosy tint to his cheeks, his handsome features illuminated by the moonlight that peeked through his curtains.

“really?”

“yes, shitty woman,” he grunted, evoking a little giggle from you as he finally seemed back to his usual, grumpy self. “‘cause i fucking like you, y/n. got it?”

he what?

did you hear him correctly? you blinked rapidly, your breath hitching in your throat as he made eye contact with you, his stare intense and piercing.

when you didn’t respond, he looked down, embarrassed.

“you don’t have t–”

“i like you, too,” you responded quickly, hoping that he’d look at you again. “for a while, actually.”

bakugou hesitated before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. he reached his hand out, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leaning in to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“sleep here tonight?”

you smiled, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

“of course.”

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spencerreidscoffeecup · 3 years

Text

New ‘Do

Summary: Reader has a sort of fettish for Spencer's new haircut, and Spencer then explains to the team and reader how he could tell.

CW: talk of hair fettish (obvi lol), describing sexual things, kissing, talk of sex, hair-pulling

AN: hey guys!! So I know this is my second blurby one shot in a row, but idc lol im lazy. i hope you enjoyyy <33

Reader's POV:

Spencer Reid and his hair will officially be the death of me.

Something about the way he styled it always got to me.

During our various sexual encounters, I would always tug his head back with his hair. And of course, he fucking loved it, which only fueled my..fettish for his hair even further.

That's why when he said that he was going to chop off his chestnut locks, I couldn't help but protest.

"But Spencer! I love your long hair!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air dramatically as he chuckled, walking into the kitchen of our apartment to grab a water bottle. He had just told me the news, and I felt like a part of me was going to go missing. I don't care how dramatic I sounded.. It was the truth and only the truth.

"Y/n, I'm just chopping off a few inches! It's gone on to be too long since my last cut.. I look like a nerdy Jesus." he said, opening his water bottle as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

I walked closer to him, running my fingers through his hair as he took a sip from his water. I looked at his beautiful locks as though they had hypnotized me. "But it's so pretty...I love it. I love to tug on it! Spence, how am I supposed to play with it?" I whined, and Spencer sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he put his hands on my waist.

"Baby, I promise you'll be able to play with my hair once I get it cut. I just need it out of my face for work."

"Then put it in a little bun!" I squeaked, my hands still tangled in his curls. Truthfully, I knew what I was doing was childish, but something about his longer hair made my whole body light into a beautiful flame.

Spencer rolled his eyes jokingly, pulling me to him for a heated kiss to nicely say, shut up. After a moment, he pulled away, leaning his forehead on mine before kissing the tip of my nose.

"I'm getting it cut tomorrow. End of story. So say goodbye to my 'Jesus Reid' haircut," he said, cupping my jaw with his right hand, as he ran his thumb gently along my lips. I sighed in defeat, tugging on Spencer's hair slightly as a whine slipped past his lips.

That's when I got an idea.

I tugged his head all the way back, littering kisses on his neck and sucking on the soft tissue of his skin lightly. Spencer whimpered softly, the sound and his hair woven between my fingers making fire burn course through my veins.

"Aren't you gonna miss me yanking on it?" I asked innocently, showing off my best puppy eyes before I kissed the column of his throat.

"You'll be able to yank on my new hair." he stated simply, gripping my hips with more power.

"But it won't be the same!" I groaned, throwing my arms loosely around his neck. Spencer laughed once more at my dramatics.

"Y/n, I'm getting my haircut tomorrow. There's nothing you can do about it! Now, we have the whole night ahead of us, and if you want to get one last yank on my hair, I suggest we begin now." he said smugly, and I giggled bashfully; following Spencer to the bedroom to begin our fun 'adventures'.

Let's just say: he and I didn't get much sleep that night.

The next morning, I awoke to Spencer shutting our apartment door as quietly as possible.

That's when it hit me.

He got his haircut!

I hopped out of bed, rushing into the living room to find Spencer. His beautiful hair had obviously been cut a few inches shorter, giving him a sort of prince look.

And I swear to all things holy, my heart stopped beating.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

I felt heat flood throughout my body as he turned around, his hair sort of messy-- although extremely charming.

I walked up to him, running my fingers through it as he laughed.

"Well good morning to you too." he greeted, planting his hands on my waist before asking me a quick, "How do you like it? I think I'll change it soon but it's good enough for now."

"No!" I squeaked, feeling my cheeks warm up as I pulled him to me, kissing his lips fervently as I whimpered against him.

Spencer was about to put his hands on my face before we heard an incessant ringing from his bag.

"Fuck," he breathed, kissing my lips softly before fishing for his phone that was hidden away in his satchel. He retrieved it, flashing me the screen to show me who was calling. Damn it! It was Hotch.

Spencer answered it, holding the phone up to his ear as I made my way to him, beginning to suck on his neck and collar bones as he spoke. "O-Okay, yes I-I'll tell her. A-alright. Bye."

He hung up, groaning softly when I sucked on the sweet spot of his neck. "Y-Y/n, we have a case, baby."

I sighed, kissing my way up to his lips.

"So I'm guessing you like my hair?" he chuckled, and I nodded fervently, biting my bottom lip.

"Good."

Spencer smiled, bending his neck down a bit to lightly kiss my lips, before telling me we had to go as soon as possible.

I reluctantly agreed, wanting more from him but turned around and walked back to our bedroom as I began to get ready.

A few minutes later, we each grabbed our things and headed out the door to the BAU jet to do the briefing of the case.

Oh, boy.

This was going to be a long one.

We had made it on the jet, the team's reactions to Spencer's haircut full of hilarity.

JJ was the first to say something, who did a swift, "Well, hello."

Spencer had pressed his lips into a thin line, a confused look on his face as he looked around; seeing the team member's stare.

Hotch was next to say something, in which he furrowed his bushy eyebrows together to prompt the question that made the whole team burst out laughing: "What, did you join a boyband or something?"

Spencer's eyebrows crinkled together as he spouted, "W- No."

"Awe, come on guys I love it." I said, taking a hold of Spencer's hand under the table as he smiled at me, his cheeks a light pink.

"That's because you're in love with him, pretty girl." Derek teased, flashing a toothy grin at me as I felt my face get warm.

The team laughed a bit more, agreeing with Derek's sentence before Hotch began the briefing.

Our case was based in Boise, Idaho.. Apparently, a serial killer had been revealed to have been posting his murders on the Internet, accumulating quite a collection of fans in the process.

Ew.

Disgusting.

Now, we were about an hour into the plane ride, and I tried distracting myself with my book, but I just couldn't.

I couldn't stop myself from staring.

He was so addicting to look at.

He noticed my gaze on him as he looked back at me.

"What?" he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"I think Y/n likes your new hair, Reid." Emily said, causing the others that weren't asleep to look up from what they were doing to joing in on the conversation.

"Ooh, I think pretty girl has a hair fettish," Derek chuckled, poking me in the ribs as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Wh-! I do not!" I exclaimed, feeling a blush color my face.

"No, I think you do." JJ smirked, laughing with Emily.

Thank God, Rossi's asleep.

"She definitely does," Spencer piped up, his face and tone completely innocent.. As though he was about to state one of his fun facts. Which I guess in a way this was a fun fact.. Fun for everyone else except me.

I looked at him incredulously, hitting his chest lightly.

"How do you figure?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest, daring him to say another word.

"Well when I got home this morning from the parlour and you saw me, you did this thing you do when you are about to orgasm," he explained, beginning to talk with his hands.

"Oh, what does she do, boy genius?" Emily asked, leaning over to get in on the fun. I could not believe what I was hearing.

"Her breathing gets heavy and she has to hold onto something.. Usually that 'something' is my hair, but when she first saw me she gripped the back of the couch. Then she was kissing me alot and running her fingers through my hair. She whimpered a little bit too, which is something she also does when she is about to-"

"O-kay! Can we stop talking about me and orgasms?" I asked, hiding behind my hands in embarrassment.

"You asked me how I knew you had a fettish and I explained." Spencer said in a sing-song tune, the team member's laughing which eventually woke Rossi up.

"Wh-what are we laughing at?" he asked in a dazed state, his eyes barely open.

"I don't think you want to know," Hotch said, arching an eyebrow as he looked back down at his case files.

"No, I want to know." he shrugged, nodding his head.

My eyes grew wide at Derek's response:

"Apparently, when Prettygirl is about to have an orgasm she whimpers. Oh, and she also has a hair fettish...Specifically with Spencer's hair."

"Dio mio! I did not want to know that!" Rossi cried, making me slap myself in the face as I groaned in embarrassment.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, cringing as I realized that Derek had practically told my grandfather about my sex life. "I'm going to get more coffee."

"Ooh, can you get me some?" Spencer asked.

"No." I said simply over my shoulder, throwing Spencer a pointed look.

I poured myself another cup of much needed coffee before Spencer walked up beside me.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I was just explaining facts to the team." he said softly, and I began to feel bad for making him think I was angry at him.

"Spence, it's okay, really," I laughed, and I saw a wave of relief wash over his features. I kissed him gently, tugging on his hair as he whimpered. "I guess I could always just tell the team that you whine and beg when I pull your hair." I whispered, untangling my fingers from his hair as I kissed him softly on the lips, Spencer's face a bright red.

"I must really like your new 'do, Spence."

And with that, I walked away, smirking at Spencer immediately throwing the washroom open, locking the door behind him.

He didn't open it until fifteen minutes later.

#domreader #subspencer #subspencerreid #sub!spencerreid #sub!spencer #dr.spencerreid #smut #haircut #fanfic #wattpad #criminalminds #spencerreidxreader #spencerreidxreadersmut #dom!spencerreid #domspencer

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 03: Watersports (Desperation)

Day 03: Watersports Title: Desperation Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: Noncon, omorashi, watersports (both pissing AND being pissed on), humiliation, degradation (like, seriously A LOT), choking, yandere Note: I have reasonable friends who talked me out of the yellow water banner I was going to use because I am clearly a mature adult. But I will not be persuaded on my yellow dripping piss font.

Kinktober Masterlist

“Alright guys, I’ll be right back,” you tell your friends, having to raise your voice to be heard above the booming techno music of the club. “Gotta go to the bathroom.”

“I guess someone drank a bit too much,” your friend giggles a bit as she sways on her feet. Several people from your hero agency have all come to celebrate the successful capture of a villain you’ve all been pursuing for months, a member of the notorious League of Villains. Things got just a bit out of hand, and you’ve all had too much to drink.

You stand up, grabbing briefly onto the bar before you right yourself and head to the bathroom. The bathroom is hard to find, far away from the main dance floor, and in the time it takes you to find it, your need becomes much more urgent as all the alcohol catches up with you.

If you were less drunk and more alert, you would have already noticed the red eyed, blue haired man who has been watching you the whole night. But you’ve barely been paying attention to anything but drinking and dancing, and so nothing seems amiss as you enter the bathroom, being closely pursued by the man who finally sees the opportunity to get you alone.

It isn’t until you enter the women’s bathroom that you realize there’s a problem. The door abruptly closes behind you, lock clicking loudly through the close quarters of the room. You whirl around, just a bit unsteady on your feet and meet the eyes of the man blocking the door.

You recognize him immediately. After all, you’re a pro-hero, and he’s been in the news for multiple attacks as Japan’s most wanted criminal. The leader of the villain you just helped to capture and arrest

Although you’re in absolutely no shape to fight him off, you don’t intend to go down without at least trying. You stand up straight, waiting for him to rush you, preparing every muscle to spring into attack the second he moves. But even being prepared for an attack doesn’t do you any good. You’ve always heard how fast Shigaraki moves, but you’re still taken by surprise as he crosses the length of the bathroom so quickly that you can barely see him, pinning you roughly against the wall.

“Little hero, it’s really not smart to be this drunk, you know,” he snorts derisively. “Especially not as a hero who just captured one of my members.”

Shit, shit shit, you curse to yourself, he knows that you’re responsible. Although you knew it was a long shot, you were still hoping this was a chance meeting, a complete accident. But now you realize that Shigaraki has probably been stalking you for a while.

He sees the realization on your face and laughs at you. “Yeah, I know exactly who you are, hero,” he spits the word hero out like it’s a curse. “And I decided to follow you and teach you a bit of a lesson on what happens when you fuck with the League of Villains.”

And with that, he wraps a hand around your neck, pinky raised barely above your skin as he begins to tighten his grip. You grab at his wrist as you try to pry him away, but it’s no use. You’re too drunk and he’s too strong, and you accomplish nothing but beating your fists uselessly against his arm.

Just when you’re beginning to see stars, about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, he releases you. You take gulping gasps of air as you steady yourself against the wall, hand flying up to touch your neck gently. You wince a bit at the burning sensation where his fingers dug deep into your skin and left marks.

Your eyes snap to his in confusion as to why he let you go, and you ask the question you’re afraid to know the answer to. “Are you - going to kill me?” You try to sound more confident, like the hero that you are. But you fall short, and Shigaraki smirks at your worried tone.

“No, I don’t think so,” he murmurs as his eyes roam down your body with a look of pure lust. “I’ve thought of something so much better than that.”

You instantly try to make a break for it while he’s not holding you in place, but he simply uses his hips to shove you back, grinding what is a quickly hardening erection against you before he pulls you in for a heated kiss. The kiss is more of a battle of dominance than anything else, one that you quickly lose as he overpowers you. His hand tangles into your hair, pulling you closer as he uses teeth to bite into your lip while his hand runs down your body. He grabs your dress in one hand, all five fingers touching the material, and you let out a sharp gasp as you watch the fabric turn into ash, leaving you in nothing but a bra.

“No panties? Fucking hero slut, were you expecting to get some cock tonight?

You shake your head back and forth, your confidence as a hero quickly failing you with every single thing this villain does and says. “N-no, of course not,” you stumble over your words. “I just -”

“Just what? Just wanted to show this pretty little pussy off to everyone?” He reaches down to cup you between your legs, finger dipping down below your slit to gently graze his finger over your clit. You buck a bit, trying to get out of his grasp, but he forces you roughly back against the wall. “Because I certainly saw it when you were sitting at that bar, presenting yourself to every person who walked through like a bitch in heat.”

Your bra is the next to go as he decays it like he did your dress. You feel the burning rush of shame as you stand completely naked in front of him.

You’re trembling now, both from his words and the fact that he’s continuing to graze your clit every so often, enough that you feel a brief stab of pleasure but not enough for anything else. You keep shaking your head, unable to find the words to refute his statements.

“Just admit it, hero,” he murmurs almost gently into your ear, “you wanted something like this to happen.”

“I - no, please stop, I don’t want this,” you plead, but you know that it’s not going to stop him from doing what he wants to you.

His finger goes slightly lower to slide into your entrance, curling up to hit a sensitive spot on your inner walls. You can’t contain the moan that slips out, pussy involuntarily clenching down around his finger.

“Shit, you’re fucking soaked and I haven’t even done anything to you. You really are a bitch in heat, aren’t you?”

He begins to aim for the spot that had you moaning, and once he finds it again, he doesn’t relent. You try to grab his hand and pull him away, but he grabs your wrist and slams it against the cold wall, causing you to whimper at the pain shooting out. It was then that you realized something horrible.

You still have to pee, and every movement he makes inside of you only causes it to get stronger. You begin to writhe even harder, crossing your legs as tightly as you can as you desperately try to hold it.

“What’s the matter, hero?” He mocks you in a cruel tone. “You’ve been drinking a lot tonight, and I bet you’re starting to feel it.”

“No no, please, please just let me go,” you whimper as you clamp your inner muscles down, squirming away to try and relieve the pressure.

But in your distraction, Shigaraki has unzipped his pants, and he forces you to bend over the counter as he strokes his cock in one hand. Your nipples are pressed against the cold surface, causing them to quickly harden as you shiver from the cold.

Something thick and hard prods against your entrance, and you try to brace yourself for what you know is about to happen.

It’s not as if there’s a damned thing you can do about it.

When he begins to push inside, a groan tears from both of your throats as he slides in inch by inch. You’re embarrassed to realize that he was right when he said how wet you are, as there’s not even any pain as his thick cock bottoms out inside of you.

The desperate need to pee is even more intense now, causing tears to run down your face as you throw away what little pride you have left.

“Please, I have to -” you trail off, too embarrassed to finish your sentence.

“Have to what? I can’t help if you won’t tell me,” his malicious tone contrasting with the soft words.

I have to pee,” you whimper pathetically, “please let me pee.”

“Then go,” he chuckles darkly, “I’m not stopping you. In fact -”

He reaches around to press down on your bladder, causing you to squeal as a small trickle of pee dribbles out. “I’ll even help you. Aren’t I so nice, hero?”

He begins to pound into your pussy, pushing down on your bladder in time with every thrust. Your crying does nothing but encourage him to go faster and press down even harder on your stomach.

Finally, you can’t hold it anymore, and you let out a choked sob as your bladder releases, hot piss running down your legs and drenching Shigaraki’s pants. He lets out a low groan at you pissing all over his cock, reaching down into the stream to get his hand wet.

He begins to increase his pace, reaching down with the hand covered in your own urine to rub tight circles against your clit.

He grabs your hair, keeping one finger far away as he forces your back to arch and stare into the mirror at yourself.

“See how ruined you look?” He growls as he makes you look into the mirror at yourself. Your makeup is smeared from your crying, eyeliner running down your face. Your hair is an absolute mess, and there’s a four fingered handprint around your neck where he choked you.

“Please please please, don’t, I don’t want this, please,” you babble the words almost incoherently as his fingers grind hard against your swollen bead, cock continuing to hit your g spot with every thrust.

The pleasure finally overwhelms you and you cum with a strangled wail, pussy fluttering wildly around his cock. Your orgasm sends him over the edge, barely able to pull out of you before he’s shooting ropes of cum against your back. He strokes himself through his orgasm, milking his cock out all over your skin.

“Aww, it’s okay, hero,” he coos maliciously at you, “don’t you feel better now?”

His gaze turns contemplative as he seems to think of something, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You know, since I helped you, don’t you think you should help me?”

You’re too out of it to realize what he means until you feel hot liquid splashing against your back. You meet his eyes in horror, only for him to smirk at you. “It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He grabs you and flips you to your front as he also covers your tits, waiting until he’s completely finished before he tucks his cock back into his pants.

You have never felt as humiliated as you do right now, bent over a bathroom counter by a villain, shivering and covered in piss and cum. Your look of utter defeat causes Shigaraki to laugh.

“This is what you get when a pathetic level 1 hero goes against someone like me,” he sneers at you as he begins to walk to the door. “If you decide to try something like that again, I’ll just have to come back for you.”

He gives a dark chuckle as he glances back at you one last time.

“Or maybe I will anyway.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧ Kinktober Taglist: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @leeswritingworld, @milojwrites, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @cissiewrites, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @lucygucy123, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @armoredashley, @f4nficbaby, @sky-robin, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @celeroki, @jubilee40, @tenkoshimmy, @khemz1312, @thirsthourdemon, @stqrlxt, @sanemitiddies, @lulu3mon, @xkatiex, @miraclefons, @thirstyforthem2dmen

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #tw: noncon #tw: water sports #tw: humilation #tw: choking #tw: degradation #mha kinktober #bnha kinktober #kinktober 2020

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imjusttpeachy · 3 years

Text

she's a rae of sunshine (c.h.)

okay so this was a request but i completely read it wrong so i’m gonna write it again but i finished this one anyway so here take it

so sorry to the anon who requested it bc u were so fuckin sweet i’ll have it up asap i promise

playlist

ralph castelli - morning sex

crumb - bones

jorja smith - teenage fantasy

summary: balancing college life and wanting to support your best friends online endeavors was difficult, but reader regrets trying a little harder when she finally meets one of her newer stream-mates

word count: 2, 828

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, lowkey OOC Corpse, that needs its own warning i’m sorry,

•••

“Look you knew I had to stream before I said you could come over ya fuckin idiot.”

“Yea I knowwwww, I just wanted to spend more time with my super-hot best friend forever.”

Being the best friend of an online personality had its perks— the amazing trips you got to hitch a ride on, the adoring fans that seemed to latch on to you as well, the sponsorships that would always send you something along with the original PR package, and especially the way she was able to choose their own work hours.

Well... mostly.

As much as you adored spending time together during the day, whether it be shopping or going out for brunch, those late nights that always seemed to hold the most memories you held so dear were few and far between. Of course, you couldn’t blame her; responsibilities were responsibilities, and fuck if you’d let your selfish wants override the way she chooses to get her work done. You really couldn’t be one to judge either-- having to call off dates because you’d underestimated the time you needed to complete a school paper, or when a last-minute lab was called in and you’d have to leave her sitting alone in those cafes with your half-finished mocha and a promise to Venmo her the money to cover it later. What left you feeling the most guilty, though, was the fact that you weren’t able to watch her content as much as you’d like to. Sure, you’d catch a few minutes of a stream here and there but any time you spent apart was usually spent with your head buried in a book, mind bleary with countless espresso shots trying to keep your tired eyes focused on the seemingly unending work in front of you.

But, a distraction every now and then couldn’t hurt. Right?

Having had enough of your current assignment, any coherent thought was long gone, you’d decided to pay your favourite person a little visit. You knew she’d probably be busy as she hadn’t replied to your previous text for a few hours, but knowing her presence alone and any passing comments would lift the heaviness that had found its home in your head and chest, you shot her a message to let her know that her office couch would be occupied by you for the next few hours. Normally, you’d just show up so you knew she wouldn’t have a problem with it; so when that fateful message popped up on your phone giving you the go-ahead you completely ignored the warning of her work schedule and drove right over.

So now here you were, sprawled haphazardly on her couch clad in sweats and a sports bra scrolling through your phone as you watched her finish her final touches so she could start her stream.

“You’re gonna be in the background of my face cam if you wanna sit there y’know.” Groaning in response to her warning not wanting to move from the comfy spot you just found, you looked over at her with the best puppy eyes you could muster. She chuckled softly, raising her hands in surrender as she turned back to her setup. “Hey I really don’t care, just warning ya bug. The thirst comments and screenshots are outta my hands.”

Scoffing under your breath at her comment, you turned your head back to your phone as a Twitter notification popped up at the top of your screen.

Corpse Husband: streaming among us in a few mins, join in on youtube

Heartbeat picking up slightly, you scrambled for the purse you’d thrown at the base of the couch for your headphones. Ever since you’d found this handsome-voiced stranger’s channel on your late night horror binges, you had fallen completely in love. While you weren’t typically the type to watch video game commentary outside of Rae, his voice got you completely hooked and you couldn’t get enough of it. Yeah, maybe you were a bit of a simp, but that sweet and genuine personality that hid behind that gravelly tone had you melting completely into his clutches. You tried to convince yourself to get over it, you didn’t even know what he looked like. But, y’know, a little crush wouldn’t hurt anybody right?

“Going live in T-minus 30 seconds babe.” Jumping slightly as Rae’s voice knocked you out of dreamland, you mumbled out a small “got it” as you once again got focused on getting your headphones connected to your phone. You’d never been able to watch one of his lives before, his horror commentary videos usually playing as background noise as you did schoolwork or while you were falling asleep. Practically shaking with excitement, you opened your YouTube app seeing the live at the very top and tapping on it immediately only to be met with that sweet laugh ringing through your headphones like music to your ears. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the throw pillow you had previously tossed to the floor and hugging it to your chest while your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, completely forgetting what was happening around you as you zeroed in on the gravelly tone you’d fallen oh-so in love with.

“Hey (Y/N) wave hi.” You startled slightly as the faint voice of your friend sounded from across the room. Glancing up from your phone, you pulled an earbud from your ear and furrowed your brows at her before slowly processing what she said, lifting a hand in greeting to her watchers. She laughed at your confusing antics, turning slightly in her chair to look over at you. “What the hell are you so smiley about?”

“…Nothing..” You grinned widely as her laugh once again resounded around the room, shaking her head at you before turning back to her screen with a scoff, muttering something under her breath so only her watchers could hear. Smile still plastered across your lips, you settled back down into the comfiness of the couch and popped your earbud back in, zeroing in again on the screen in front of you. Watching as Corpse moved his character around the lobby as he waited for his friends to join, a small giggle escaped from under your breath; trying your best to be mindful of Rae’s stream but not being able to hold back the flustered feeling welling up in your chest, mind giddy with the thought of finally being able to see one of his famous live streams, well, live. It had only been a few seconds later when you heard Rae’s voice once again, only this time, not as muffled as before.

“What’s up motherfuckers.” Brows furrowing in confusion, you lifted your hand to your earbud and pulled it from your ear once again, hearing her voice from across the room but from your other earbud as well. No, there was no fucking way. All your questions were answered, though, as you glanced back down at your phone screen seeing a red character move around the game lobby along with Corpse’s, the gamer tag ‘Valkyrae’ floating just above it. Blinking hard at your screen trying to convince yourself that your eyes were lying to you, you slowly pulled your hand to cover your mouth in shock. How… How could you possibly not know they knew each other? With the way they spoke to each other in sarcastic comments, poking fun at the other it sounded like they were close too. Body finally catching up with your thoughts, you scrambled at your phone, shaky hands moving as quickly as they could to pull up your texts with Rae. Your fingers tapped furiously at the screen, anxious to get back to the live stream to listen in more but also needing to know what the fuck was going on.

TO my rae of sunshine: care to explain what the fuck is going on??! how the fuck do you know corpse husband?????!??!

“Oops sorry guys, guess I forgot to turn off my phone ringer-“ Staring up at the back of her head helplessly, you watched as she picked up her phone seeming to read out the text before bursting into a peal of laughter. Tossing a look at you over her shoulder, you looked back down at your phone bashfully, seeing the three loading dots in your message thread indicating that she was messaging you back.

my rae of sunshine: lol what about it? you gotta crush on him or something?

TO my rae of sunshine: …no

Hitting send you rushed back to the stream, anxious to see what Corpse was saying in response to Rae’s absence, not thinking anything about your brief conversation and thinking you would discuss it after she had logged off for the night. Though, as you heard her phone chime again from across the room followed by another bark of laughter, you knew you weren’t getting off that easy.

“What are you laughing about?” Corpse’s honeyed voice sounded from your earbud, hearing Rae’s giggles from what you presumed to be their discord voice chat. Glancing anxiously between his stream and the reflection of Rae’s face cam in one of her monitors, your heart began to sink as you watched that familiar mischievous grin tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Oh just my friend (Y/n) sent me a funny meme”

“Wait, is she the one in some of your Instagram posts?” You swear your heart stopped beating at that moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you as you tried helplessly to process the conversation happening right in front of you. He knew who you were? You thought you’d always be lost among the hundreds of thousands of his new adoring fans, left in the anonymity of your Twitter tag in his subtweets, or just another subscriber that fawned over him silently behind a keyboard. Knowing that he’d actually seen your face you could feel your own beginning to heat at that moment; you brought your hands your mouth again, unknowingly curling your body tighter around the pillow in your lap as you tried to hide your face behind it as you become more and more flustered from the words nonchalantly escaping his mouth.

“Yea that’s her, pretty thing isn’t she? She’s my absolute favourite.”

That’s it, you were gonna fucking kill her.

“I mean, yeah... I guess..” The timid words followed by a soft awkward chuckle had your breath hitching in your throat. There was no fucking way this was happening. This had to be a dream, that was the only possible explanation. You were just about to pinch yourself when Rae’s voice startled you from your thoughts.

“She’s actually over right now. She insisted on getting wine drunk later tonight because her professor’s been on her ass lately. I’ll get her to come say hi.” Rae had barely turned around in her chair when she was met with your wide-eyed gaze, panic painted across your features as you shook your head wildly. You were in no state to be talking to your long-time internet crush in such a casual setting. But with the look Rae shot you from her chair as she started to plug another headset into her PC, you knew you had no choice and begrudgingly pulled yourself from the couch almost tripping over your own feet as you shakily walked over to Rae. Shooting her another pleading look, she only shoved the headset in your direction in return as she grinned up at you. Finally biting the bullet, you pulled on the headset and leaned down toward the mic.

“Hi, how’s it going?” Cursing at yourself for how quiet and shaky your words came out, you barely had any time to think it over before a chorus of greetings sounded through the headset. A small giggle escaped your lips as you watched the different Discord icons appear and disappear from the top of the screen. You knew most of these people already which made you even more confused as to how you managed to miss that voice from all the discord chats and voice calls. Well, knowing them was a bit of an overstatement anyway; you knew /of/ them, and they knew /of/ you in the other times you popped up in the background or in passing conversation during Rae’s streams. They did know you well enough, though, to know this was not the way you usually spoke around them.

“No way, that can’t be the (Y/N) I know!” The voice you recognize as Sean echoes through your headset, another chorus of knowing laughter following quickly after. Taking a deep breath you managed to force out a few words that would get them off your case.

“…Shut the fuck up”

“There she is!!” As the group erupted in laughter yet again, all you could focus on was the faint deep chuckle that resounded through your headset. Feeling your face start to heat up, you covered your wide grin with your hand as butterflies burst through your stomach; you could listen to that laugh all day. Before you were able to speak again, though, that heavenly voice piped up and wiped all train of thought from your mind.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you too Corpse. I gotta be honest ‘n say I’m a pretty big fan of your no-sleep work.” And... there’s the word vomit. Fuck, you could feel your cheeks starting to heat up with the ongoing realization of who you were talking to.

“Aha thank you, I uh really appreciate that. I’m sure you just heard, but I guess you could say I’m a fan of yours also.”

No.

No, there’s no fucking way.

Is he...

Flirting with you?

Before you could even think about what to reply to that with, the rest of the group beat you to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is happening.”

“CORPSE! You SIMP!”

“Is- Is Corpse really shooting his shot right now?”

You didn’t realize you were frozen in place until you felt Rae’s hand on your elbow, snapping you out of your bewildered trance as you tried to comprehend what was happening yourself. As your thoughts finally caught up to the present, you could feel your cheeks start to burn; pulling your hand up to cover your face you stepped out of the view of the face cam. Rae’s laughter filled the room as she watched your flustered antics, shooting you a sly grin as she started scanning the monitor displaying her live chat.

“Wait, wait, chats telling me (y/n)’s blushing right now?” Sean’s voice echoed through the discord chat, only making you flush further as you tried desperately to find a way out of this.

“Okay, okay, leave her alone.” Corpse’s voice finally piped up amid all of the chaos causing everyone to immediately pipe down. God, you didn’t even want to begin to think of the mess this has already made, you just needed to get out of there before you caused any more damage.

“Yeah, I uh- see- see that the lobby’s full so I’ll just uh- leave you guys to it.” Quietly thanking the stars that Corpse finally got you out of this mess, you went to pull the headset off your ears when that fateful voice piped up again.

“Wait, don’t let these nerds make you leave. You should stay- I mean, only to help Rae y'know? She needs it.”

“I do not!”

“I- I mean yea sure, as long as I’m not intruding,” Cursing yourself again for stuttering before forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat, “I mean, she really does need the help.”

“Okay just because you want to flirt some more doesn’t mean you can bully me-“

“Okay, I’m starting the round!” The booming accented voice cut off everyone else in the call as you all stared as the screen began to count down to the game, and before anyone had the chance to say anything else a chorus of laughs resounded, and then the lobby fell into silence.

•••

And it went on like that, the not-so-subtle flirting followed by relentless jabs from the group immediately after. The game was almost forgotten with how much of each lobby was taken up by teasing words and endless laughter, but every audience was just eating it up. You didn’t even want to think about the mess social media was going to be after this stream but right now you were having fun with your friends and that’s all that mattered. The grin was practically plastered on your face as you laughed along with Rae the chat during the gameplay portions and you knew everything from this moment on was gonna be different, but you couldn’t find a single thing within you to care.

Especially when you logged onto Twitter right after the stream and saw that little message right at the top of your requests.

@.corpsehusband: wanna hear some of that no sleep work in person?

•••

beep bop here u go,

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband imagine #corpse x you #corpse husband x you

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pregnant-piggy · 3 years

Text

The Crow’s Nest

The Crows x reader

words: 12.1k

warnings: underage drinking, fire, character death, guns

A/N: am I slowly indoctrinating you with my pirate obsession? perhaps... ;) this is based on a dream I had while reading the first book and it wouldn’t leave me until I had written it. Let me know what you think of it! <3

translations (part real languages, part fictional):

Teufel -- devil

Fortell meg -- tell me

Jer elsker pe -- I love you

Faen -- fuck, damn

Goede morgen -- good morning

The grey waves hit against the hull of The Teufel, rocking the ship back and forth in the restless water. The howling wind creeped around every corner, finding even the warmest spots to cool the air and sparing no one from its breeze. The old sails fluttered in the force of the wind and loud slaps could be heard whenever the canvas hit against the mast. Little raindrops were falling from the sky, creating a layer of damp on everything in the open.

Thunder sounded far away in the sky, back in the open sea, but The Teufel was going the other way. Kerch was approaching steadily and if the winds didn’t turn suddenly, the ship would reach land before the sun had fully set.

The coastline of Ketterdam, the city The Teufel would arrive at, was peculiar with its high buildings and built-up streets. The lights of the city lit up the sky like an orange halo in the darkening heavens.

You leaned with two arms on the railing of the ship, watching the city approach over the water. Behind you the strongest members of the crew were working on the sails, steering the schooner into the right direction. You listened to the shouts and orders with half an ear, imagining what the city of Ketterdam would be like and where you would go after the ship had moored. Unlike many of the older ones in the crew you had never been to Kerch before. In the last two years The Teufel hadn’t gotten close to the island, finding enough profit near the coasts of Novyi Zem. Three weeks ago, however, the captain had ordered to turn the sails and head South, much to your delight.

Your entire life you had heard stories about Kerch. When you were very little, you had asked your grandmother over and over again to tell you about her trips to Ketterdam. Though you had been too young to understand most of what her stories meant, you had adored how your grandma was able to take you to a different world with her words only. It was a gift that you most admired and one that she had passed on to you.

Your parents passed away in a futile attempt to protect the town against the brutality of the land’s council. You had been just seven years old and the surviving neighbours hadn’t known what to do with you, so you had been sent to a boarding school in the countryside. Far away from the danger of the city they’d said, but you had known it was just to get rid of you. You had grown up in a strict environment, in a house full of stern teachers and meek children. But even there you hadn’t forgotten about your grandmother’s stories. Although the students thought you were odd, they would all gather around you in the sleeping hall after midnight when the teachers were to bed and you would tell them a story the same way your grandma had told them to you.

The older you had gotten the more trouble you’d seemed to cause. Obeying the rules had soon proven not to be something for you, at least not when you thought the rules were useless. With every year you’d grown older, you had found more ways to plant mischief. The punishments had gotten harder every time but you had refused to bend to their rules. Eventually they had been the one to give up and they had kicked you out of the school. At the age of fourteen you had been a homeless orphan only good for trouble.

For weeks you had travelled on your own and you had ended up at the harbour, where you had stumbled upon The Teufel. At first the captain had refused to take you on; he had no use for a child. It had been your talent to speak Kerch, Ravkan and a little bit of Fjerdan that had gotten you on board the ship that would become your new home.

For the past two years you had travelled along with the crew, learning to live on the ocean. Not a moment you had regretted your decision. The crew had accepted you as part of their family. The captain, Nerseh, had taken you on as his own daughter, learning you the tricks of maintaining a crew. Mayranoush, the quartermaster, was a strict woman who had at first scared you because she had seemed to be so much like your teachers at the boarding school. After a while you had gotten used to her, however, and it was from her that you had learnt how to shoot and how to read people’s faces like an open book. From the sailing master you learned how to read maps and the gunners had tried to teach you how to aim, but you had never mastered that skill. Stefan had taught you how to fight with a sword, Marina taught you the ropes and Hai learned you basic first aid and other cures that were necessary in combat.

In two years you had learned enough to make yourself useful on the ship and you had grown from just their translator to a valuable member of the crew. The Teufel was your home and you could not think of a better place for you.

“Are you excited?” Stefan stood next to you and followed your gaze to the skyline of Ketterdam.

You tore your eyes from the city and looked at the big blond man with his bright blue eyes. When you first stepped on the ship he was the first one of the crew to approach you and you had been surprised by the Fjerdan’s conviviality. Your teachers had always taught you that the people from Fjerda were cold and distant. But ten minutes spent in Stefan’s company proved all of that wrong. He had guided you in your first weeks and now he was your best friend, and your first friend.

“I am,” you nodded. “I’ve been dreaming about this place since I was a toddler. I can’t wait to see what it's like.”

Stefan smiled at you and leaned down on the railing next to you, his arm against yours. A warm feeling washed over you and sparkles shot through your upper body. The wind had died down to a light breeze and your hair wavered behind your neck as the wind blew directly into your face. A scent of smoke, burned sugar and oil filled your nose and you closed your eyes, taking in the smell and registering the different scents. This was the essence that your grandmother had talked about and now you were experiencing it yourself.

When you opened your eyes you noticed that Stefan was watching you intently. You smiled and raised one arm from the railing so you could turn to him. He wanted to say something to you, you could see it in his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he stammered, his pale cheeks blossoming red immediately.

“Fortell meg, Fjerdan,” you ordered Stefan to tell you and, though you didn’t think it was possible, his cheeks got even redder.

The big, blushing man looked away from you and cleared his throat. His gaze was pointed at his feet and then he turned it to the horizon. The wind was playing with the blond curls of his hair, that looked golden in the light of the setting sun. He cleared his throat again and then he mumbled something.

“I can’t hear you, doofus,” you laughed and nudged your shoulder against Stefan’s arm. “A little louder, please.”

Stefan sighed and turned his head to look at you. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on your upper arm. The feeling of his warm hand on your bare arm made your heart flutter. Your lips parted and you sucked in a little breath.

“Jer elsker pe,” Stefan whispered. I love you.

Your heart stopped. The pulse in your chest disappeared for a moment and when your heart beat again, it did twice as hard. Stefan was no Heartrender but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat too.

“Stefan, I—” you started, taking Stefan’s other hand in yours.

However before you could go on, Captain Nerseh appeared from his hut and started shouting over the main deck. “Stefan! I need you up front!” Nerseh said and he walked to the forecastle deck, ordering the rest of the crew on his way. Stefan was still standing in front of you, your hands holding his but his face turned to the captain. This one turned around. “Now, please!”

The Fjerdan let go of you and hurried away, leaving you on your own. You held onto the railing for support as you felt your weight shift to your legs. All the excitement you had felt just mere minutes ago had now completely vanished and you looked around panicky. Not even a lifetime on sea could have prepared you for that.

-=-=-

The Jolly Roger was changed for a neutral flag with the colours of Novyi Zem and The Teufel navigated into the Fifth Harbour of Ketterdam. Once the anchor had been lowered and the ship lay still, a small party was sent out to get stock while the others were free to go wherever they wanted.

Stefan was sent with the quartermaster, Mayranoush, and Hai for food and ammunition and he was off the schooner before you could follow him. You watched him leave the Harbour, standing on the main deck. His blonde hair shone in the last rays of sunshine and he was visible for a long time, until his figure disappeared in the bigger crowd. Gone before you could talk to him.

“I want y'all back at twelve bells,” Captain Nerseh said and he waved the rest of the crew off.

Hesitantly you walked off The Teufel onto the docks. The first few steps were wobbly and uneven, as it had been a few weeks since you had last walked on land, but after shaking your feet and legs, you got used to walking again. Those familiar tingles, that you always got when walking on shore after so long on sea, shot through your legs and you were filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

Here on land the scent was even stronger, luring you into the streets. You glanced back at The Teufel over your shoulder and shrugged off the uneasy feeling you got at the thought of leaving your home behind in the harbour. Pulling up your boots a little, you turned away and stepped into the city, finally experiencing what you had dreamed of for so long.

The streets of Ketterdam were unlike any other place you had ever been. Big crowds of tourists and inhabitants were moving as one through the small streets of the Lid. Men, women and children all walked through each other, barely taking notice of the persons passing them. The lights coming through the shop windows casted yellow and white shapes on the cobblestoned ground, with which the shadows of the people danced.

You followed the crowd into the buzzing parts of town, falling in step with the other tourists. Many years ago your grandmother had told you that the Lid was filled with gambling houses and it was the place where the most tourists stuck around. And indeed, as you walked on the crowd gradually got thinner with people leaving right and left to fall into the temptation of the colourful buildings decorated with bright lights. Faint music combined with the loud chatter of people in all languages hung in the salty air, like a blanket that was thrown over this part of the city.

However, all that you could think of was Stefan’s face and his words. Jer elsker pe. In a haze you walked through the busy streets, hearing Stefan’s voice over and over in your head. His touch was imprinted on your skin, the place where his hand had been was burning hot on your arm.

You had known, that was the worst part. For a few weeks you had known. You had sensed it whenever he was looking at you or when he was touching you. The look on his face was different from before. There had been a softness on the Fjerdan’s face that hadn’t been there before. A weakness. It was an undeliberate thought, but it made its way in your mind anyway. If the past ten years of your life had taught you one thing it was that you had to hide your weaknesses. From enemies and friends.

It had been a particular hot night at the boarding school and you hadn’t been able to sleep. That day a new girl had arrived at the school and she’d sat down next to you at breakfast. Many of the others had scowled at her but she had ignored them and instead introduced herself as Lotty. It was the first time that someone had voluntarily come to you and the rest of the day you had spent getting Lotty familiar with the school and its surroundings.

You’d heard the girl stirring next to you and padded over to her. Upon seeing your face, a smile had spread on Lotty’s face and you had whispered: “Want to get out of here?”

Very cautiously you and Lotty had left the sleeping hall and on your toes you had run through the empty corridors of the school building. All the teachers had been asleep already and the big clock in the hall had showed that it was two hours after midnight.

The front door had opened with a small squeak and the dark night air had welcomed you and Lotty outside. The gardens of the boarding school surrounded the entire building with grass, flowers and low bushes. A sweet, humid scent had hung in the air, the result of the sun that had shone on the flowers all day.

You and Lotty had sat down in the middle of a flower bed and you had told her about everything. For the first time in your life you’d felt like you had a friend and you had trusted her with some of the secrets you knew about the school’s building. For hours you two had sat outside, until the sun had started to rise and the petals of the flowers had started to collect the morning humidity. As you had gotten up, you’d put your hand on the ground to push yourself up and you felt something crawl under your palm. You had squealed and stumbled back quickly, staring in disgust at the place where you had put your hand. There on the ground a thick spider had quickly crawled away under the flowers.

Lotty’d started to laugh and you had scolded her. Spiders had always scared you and no matter how much you’d tried to get over it, whenever you saw one you couldn’t help but shudder.

Back at the sleeping hall you had fallen into a restless sleep for the last few hours, dreaming of a thousand legs and jaws. When you’d woken up, Lotty hadn’t been there and at breakfast she had sat with the other children, not with you.

The next morning you had woken up with something crawling up your arm and the sound of laughter.

And now Stefan had shown you his weakness. Though you would never use it against him like Lotty had done to you, there was something that bothered you now you knew his weakness. What if unintentionally you would cause him trouble or danger?

“Watch where you’re going!” a man sneered and he roughly pushed past you.

You shook your head out of your thoughts and looked around. The bright gambling dens had been replaced by small, tall and crooked houses made by all different sorts of bricks and wooden beams for support. The streets were still busy but this was a different crowd. People with comical masks and cloaks moved in little groups, quickly and rushed, as if they were afraid someone would stop them. A few people wore gaudy suits and moved proudly over the streets, their hands in their pockets. The others wore more ragged clothes in dark colours and they walked with their heads down to the ground.

You were in the Barrel, undoubtedly. The gambling houses were still there, but more scattered. Still they weren’t much different from the ones on the Lid; a lot of dramatic lightning and flashing colours, all so that the most people would come in.

The East Stave was on your left. You had refused ever to step foot near the brothels on the West Stave. The horrid stories that your grandmother had told you had already been enough to keep you away and the rumours you had heard from the crew on The Teufel had only added to that.

Your legs were getting tired from walking so much and the unnerving thoughts were still whirling through your head. On The Teufel you would have searched for Stefan and gotten drunk with him hidden somewhere on the deck, but Stefan wasn’t here and The Teufel was far back in the harbour. So instead you searched for the least ostentatious building and eventually settled on a gambling club called the Crow Club.

A silver crow hung over the entrance of the club and you looked up to it as you walked under it, entering the building. You stepped into a big hall that was parted in two by a lowered floor in the back. The black lacquered walls had no windows and all sense of night and day was lost as soon as you stepped inside. The little clock around your neck told you it was little after ten bells. That meant that you had one hour and a half before you had to go back.

You sat on one of the crimson stools at the bar and ordered a drink from the man behind it. He eyed you for a moment and you noticed he was contemplating whether to give someone your age a drink, but he seemed to decide that profit is profit and poured you a drink. You watched him while he worked for a moment. He was not as old as you had thought him to be. The only wrinkles in his face were near the corners of his mouth and the cracks next to his eyes. His skin was dark bronze and his hair pitch black, almost like the walls around him. And what he lacked in height he seemed to be making up in strength, as his arms were muscular and he looked strong enough to throw a man twice his size out of the place.

The drink burned in your throat, but you threw it all in anyway. For a moment your gullet was on fire and the next moment it was gone. The years among a group of adult pirates had learned you how to take your drinks.

You asked the bartender for another and you didn’t miss the surprise on his face, but turned the other way, looking at the parlor around you. Most of the tables in the lower part of the room were occupied by a variety of people. In the left corner of the room sat a couple, their feet entangled under the table, but their eyes fanatically looking at the other.

At a table closer to you sat a woman in a bright red dress with feathers in her hair. From your place you could see the cards in her hand and if you stretched your neck a little you could also see the cards of her neighbour. The table was playing Ridderspel, a simple card game played with the lower numbers of the cards. It was a game to make little money quickly and one of the most played card games in gambling houses everywhere.

The woman had two sevens, an eight and a four of the crow-marked cards in her hand and she pushed forward four little red chips when the dealer asked to place the bets. Her neighbour pushed forward two grey chips and the man opposite of her one grey and one red one. The dealer collected the chips and stacked them in the middle of the table.

On The Teufel you had played many games of Ridderspel with the crew. However, after a while they had banned you from playing games for money. It hadn’t taken long for you to see connections between the faces of people and their cards. You could see a pattern in the order they played their cards and knew after showing the first card of the game who would win.

It had started with Ridderspel. One dark night under the light of a lantern you had been playing the game with Stefan and two others of the crew, Vinay and Cilka, when you had noticed that whenever Cilka got her cards the lightest frown would form on her face if she didn’t get good cards. It was invisible to anyone else, but you saw how her eyebrows would twitch shortly. You knew that everyone had their tells, some more obvious than others, but after that night you had searched the others’ signs. Vinay’s shoulders would slump a little if he had bad cards and Stefan’s eyes would flicker shortly over the table if his cards were good.

After you had learned their signs, you’d noticed that there was a pattern in the way they played their cards. If they had bad cards, they played the highest first, hoping to at least get a little out of the game. If they had good cards, they would hold their highest cards for the end, but they wouldn’t play their lowest card first either. It was a complicated strategy, a difficult trick on your mind, but after months of examining the game, both playing and from afar, you found the pattern. From there on it wasn’t difficult to find the patterns in other games and soon you were banned from playing games on the entire ship.

However, whenever you were on land and there was a gambling house in the city, the crew would often ask you if you could just play some games so they could get some money. You knew that with you playing at the table the game wasn’t fair anymore, but you would do it night after night if that meant you could do something for your crew.

Now, you knew that the woman in red had a good chance of winning the game. She tapped her fingers on her thigh and kept staring at her cards. So much for a bluffing face. The dealer asked to play the first card and the woman threw one of her sevens on the table. Not the highest and not the lowest. Her neighbours answered by throwing an eight and a five.

The next round was played and now the woman played her four, receiving another eight and a seven. She is playing out her opponents. If they wanted to win, they would have to change the course, but you feared it was already too late for them. The woman threw her eight on the table and the others a seven and a five. The last card was played and at her seven, the woman got a six and a four.

As the dealer started to count the points you turned away; you didn’t need to count the points to know that the woman in the red dress had won the game.

“Another one, please,” you said to the barman in Kerch and he nodded at you. Curiosity could be read off his face even by those who didn’t have your talent of understanding facial expressions.

When he gave you your glass his eyes lingered on your clothes and you realised how idiotic you must look in this environment. Though the people in the hall weren’t all wearing evening dresses or three-piece suits, you knew that someone in a black jacket and leather boots to their knees would stand out. Consciously you stroke a hand over the braids in your hair and looked at the bartender.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he noticed your looks. “Many tourists come dressed up.”

You tilted your head to the side and hesitated telling him the truth. Figuring there wouldn’t come much trouble from doing so, you sat up and shook your head. “These are my normal clothes.”

The barkeeper cocked an eyebrow and then went on with cleaning the glasses. You stared at the brown liquid in your glass before you knocked it back and softly placed your glass back on the bar. The movement caught the attention of the man behind the bar and he lifted the bottle, silently asking if you wanted another one.

“Sure,” you answered and pushed your glass forward.

The way the man filled the glass reminded you of how Stefan used to fill your glass. While you preferred to drink straight from the bottle, he would always insist on taking glasses from the galley.

“We can at least pretend we’re fancy,” he’d say, as you were hidden in the shadows of the back of the ship.

A faint smile played on your lips as you thought back of Stefan, but your inside burned as you heard his last words back in your head. Jer elsker pe. The truth was that you weren’t quite sure if you loved Stefan back. He had always been close to you and you appreciated him being such a good friend to you, but you didn’t love him the way he loved you. At least, that’s what you thought. You had never really experienced love before, so how could you know what it felt like?

“Maybe you should slow on those,” the bartender said as you placed yet another empty glass on the bar.

“No,” you rasped, fighting the burn in your throat. “I’ve had worse.”

“I can stop giving you, y’know?” the man said as you lifted your glass again for another.

“And not get paid? You wouldn’t.”

The barkeeper laughed and poured you another glass. This time you didn’t immediately drink it all, but you turned around on your stool and looked at the biggest table on the floor. It was an oval-shaped table, lined with the same crimson of the seat you were sitting on, and around it sat seven people. Dice lay in the middle of the table, surrounded by grey, black and red chips and a stack of cards.

Even in the noise of the other tables and people walking between them, the conversations at the big table were clear.

“You’re bluffing!” the man on the right shouted. He was big in all aspects someone could be big. The hems of his trousers were too high up his legs and the sleeves of his jacket were too short. The golden buttons of his blouse were about to burst and his hat kept sliding off his head because it didn’t fit well. His appearance was only mimicked more by his dark red cheeks and the little drops of sweat that were rolling down his face.

“Am not,” the lanky, dark brown man on the other side of the table said. He had a wicked grin on his handsome face and seemed to be in his element. His feet were lying on the edge of the table and he held his cards loosely in his hand, like they were to fall any moment.

“How could you—? You don’t— No one—” the big man started and the colour drained from his face. You had missed what the beginning of the conversation was, but surely it was not something the big man wanted to come out.

“Maybe you should try to keep such information to yourself,” the tall guy said. “Now, are you in or out?”

The surrounding men at the table nervously shifted in their seats as they looked at the big man. He patted his head with a silk handkerchief and stared at his cards for a moment. A new set of sweat seemed to pour over his forehead and eventually he threw his cards open on the table. ‘I’m out.’

The man got up from the table and he hurried away, followed by the other five men. They walked past you in a queue outside and when they were all gone, the guy at the table smiled pleased.

“He was bluffing,” you noted, after taking a quick glance at the cards that were lying open on the table.

“What?” the barman asked, who had watched the play with you, and you were reminded that you were not alone.

A warm rush spread in your cheeks and you turned your head to the bartender. “That guy was bluffing to scare the man away.”

The man squeezed his eyes at you and said a little too late: “Why’d you think that?”

“Look at the cards on the table,” you said and peered back at the big table. “That man on the left had two of the highest and the person two seats from him had another. I can’t see the cards on this side of the table, but whatever they are, this guy can never have enough to win.”

The barman looked at you for a few seconds. “How do you know?”

You looked out over the hall, scanning the games on other tables. “You learn things,” you shrugged and then nodded to a little table closer by. “See that guy? How he is glancing between his cards and the dealer’s hands?” The barkeeper leaned forward over the bar and looked at where you were pointing. “He has good cards and is trying not to let anyone notice it.”

The man leaned back from the bar and filled your glass without you even asking. He rested one hand on the bar and looked at you. “Where did you learn that?”

“Well, you have to do something on a ship,” you said, swirling the drink. “Eventually staring at the stars all night gets a bit boring.”

The barman snorted laughingly. “You’re from a ship?” Then he looked at your outfit again and he nodded. “Now that makes a lot more sense,” he mumbled. “When did you arrive?”

“About an hour ago,” you answered and pulled the clock from your blouse.

Meanwhile, the handsome guy from the big table walked to the bar and he greeted the bartender as he sat down one seat away from you. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and stopped at the guns on his hips. The clock lowered without you realising and you gave up on trying to hide your stare.

The two pearl-handled guns shone in the light from above and you shook your head in disbelief. Zemini-made revolvers were rare, and you would know. You had heard stories about them from your mates on The Teufel, but none of them had ever even had one in their hands. Only Nerseh in his younger years had owned one, but he had lost it in a battle. The Zemini guns were feared among your crew and there were two of them right next to you now.

“See anything you like, darling?” the guy asked and your eyes shot from his revolvers to his face. He had that same mischievous smile on his lips and there was a glimmer in his eyes as he raised his eyebrow at you.

“Those are pretty rare guns,” you said, ignoring the guy’s suggestive tone.

He took one of the revolvers from the holster and let it twirl in his fingers. Though you didn’t want to, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the ease with which the boy handled his guns. You had gotten quite familiar with your own guns, but you had yet to learn that.

The boy must have seen your googling eyes because he smiled a bit more real now and said: “I know, Zemini-made. You don’t find that very oft—”

“Faen!” you interrupted in Fjerdan, using the word that you had heard Stefan say so often. You had looked at your watch and realised that it was much later than you had thought it was. It was already a quarter till midnight and it would take you at least twenty minutes to get back to the harbour. You jumped from your seat, threw some coins on the bar and straightened your coat, mumbling: “Stupid windowless walls…”

Without sparing another look at the two guys you left behind you stormed out of the Crow Club into the street. Rain was pouring down from the sky and you shivered at the sudden cold. For a second you looked around and scanned your surroundings and then you hurried off in the direction you had come from.

People passed you in a blur of colours and shadows as you ran over the streets, desperately trying to find a way back to the harbour. The captain wouldn’t appreciate you being late and it would most likely cause you a night scrubbing the deck on a night you actually had been free. But perhaps Stefan would accompany you.

Your mind automatically seemed to find a way to think of your best friend. The situation in the gambling hall had taken your mind off him for a minute but now your logical senses were numbed by the alcohol the Fjerdan was back again. Stefan could’ve easily found his way back. The boy could find a route almost everywhere, even in a place you had never been before. He would just follow the direction of the sun or look at the leaves on a tree and know where you were.

But Stefan wasn’t there to guide you back. He was probably already back at The Teufel, waiting impatiently on you.

Every alley looked the same and all the gambling houses had the same flashy lights. You didn’t know if you were moving forward or just running in circles. Somewhere above in the sky you heard the twelve bells that told you you had to be back already. With the feeling you had passed the house on the corner of the street three times before, you ran on, ignoring the protesting people if you ran into them. You almost fell over your own feet and nearly stumbled into a girl dressed all in dark clothes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pushing away from her softly but when you turned around to her she was nowhere to be seen on the street. You were too much in a hurry to worry about that and ran on, sighing in relief when you saw the fluorescent lights from the Lid.

The Lid was filled with more people than the Barrel you ran from and it was harder to manage a way through. You pushed and threw yourself between people, growing a little nauseous from the smell of so many bodies together combined with the smells that came from the kitchens around. As you hurried through the tourists, your breath was high in your throat and you could feel your heart beating in your head. Heavy breaths fell over your lips but you refused to take a moment to rest.

The glittery lanes were soon exchanged for the dark open space of the harbour. The cobblestones echoed the sounds of your footsteps as you ran. People shot you weird looks as you raced past them.

The closer you came to where The Teufel lay, the busier it became, but instead of searching for a reason you just hoped that you could still make it past them. However, the crowd became too big for you to run as fast as you had and you slowed your pace slightly. You zigzagged between people and pushed them aside, getting various insults thrown at your head. As you came closer to the inner circle of the crowd, you realised that they weren’t just randomly standing there; they were standing around The Teufel.

You stopped running completely and approached the busiest part of the crowd at walking pace. Now you weren’t focusing on your own thoughts you heard that the people were all muttering and talking with each other—and that the people closer to the water were screaming and shouting.

The few people that stood in between you and your destination you pushed aside softly and the closer you got the more you felt a strange heat on your face. When the woman in front of you stepped aside, your jaw dropped.

There, in the water, right where it had been when you left earlier this night, lay The Teufel completely in flames. Not a single part of the main deck had been spared, flames were reaching high up in the sky, eating the masts like a monstrous creature. Thick dark grey clouds hung above the ship in the dark blue night sky. The flames curled around the hull of The Teufel, like a devil claiming its prey. Wooden walls collapsed, iron melted and ropes caught fire, sending the flames up to destroy the crow’s nest.

Among the chaos on the shore and the sound of the fire, all you could think about was one thing. My family. The shouting and cackling couldn’t drown out the screams of terror that came from the belly of the ship. Cries for help, prayers to all gods and saints. Your crew was in there. Your people were inside of a burning ship. Your friends and family. They were all trapped.

It could have been you. If you hadn’t lost track of time, you would’ve been there with them. You would have arrived before the twelve bells, gone inside with the others and would be trapped in there now. It could have been you, but instead it was your crew. And you didn’t know what was worse.

There was nothing you could do. No way to run on the ship and free your mates without catching fire yourself. No way to stop that fire that was capturing The Teufel. No human could do it, no grisha either. This was more than an accidental fire, this was controlled. Don’t fight a bigger power without knowing its weaknesses. It was a phrase your father would say to you whenever you had been mad at the world as a child. The advice he had ignored before he had gone to fight his way into death. You didn’t know what the fire’s weaknesses were, if there were any weaknesses at all. All you could do was stand on the shore with your hands clasped over your chest and your eyes stuck on what had once been The Teufel. What had once been your home.

The screams of the crew were engraving themselves in your mind, cutting you open and leaving deep wounds. The last bit of your hope had been left behind on that ship and was now burning away, leaving nothing but a hollow chest.

Time passed by as you stood on the shore, watching the last remains of your home falling apart. You didn’t look away when the fire burst through the portholes in the hull of the ship and you didn’t flinch as you heard the last sounds you would ever hear from your crewmates. You took it all in, soaked your mind in the pain, feeling the shock and terror making place for fury. One day, you promised yourself. One day you would find a way to get revenge.

You knew that in a city like this news would spread fast. Surely before sunrise all the people in Ketterdam would know of the ship that had burned away in Fifth Harbour. You wouldn’t be safe; not from the questions of the people and not from whoever had done this. You were sure that they wouldn’t be too keen on having missed someone from the crew before they blew it up. Chances were big that, if anyone ever found out that you had belonged to The Teufel, your days would be numbered.

Fortunately you hadn’t told anyone you were part of The Teufel’s crew. Anyone but the barman at the Crow Club. You hadn’t literally told him, but you were sure he could put two and two together.

Once the fire had been settled and the ashes of the wood were only still smoldering, you straightened your back. You would find the barman and ask him not to tell anyone. Or perhaps you would find your ending in the streets of the Barrel. The Teufel had been your home for two years, but it was time to get moving.

-=-=-

The Crow Club stood proudly in front of you. Rain was running down your face, following the lines of your neck into your blouse. You were cold and your entire body was shaking but you knew that was more from the shock than the rain. In the back of your head you still heard the screams but you tried to block them out as you stepped to the gambling house.

As you walked closer to the entrance, a boy stepped in front of the door, blocking your way. He was huge with arms full of tattoos and a mouth full of crooked teeth, some of them missing, and when you approached him you realised he was watching you. He expected me. This guy had been waiting for you, he had known that you would come back. How could he?

Hesitating you went forward. You had already seen the gun on his belt and you were quite sure if you turned around and walked away he wouldn’t be afraid to use it. In front of the boy you stopped and leaned to the side to look inside the building.

“I’m sorry, could I go inside?” you asked, your voice mellow and innocent. “I would really like to warm up a little.”

The man just tilted his head to the side and his lips turned into a stupid grin. His hand rested casually on his gun, though you knew that all his moves had been precisely calculated. Whether by himself or someone’s orders was your next guess.

“You better follow me,” the boy said and his eyes glassily looked at you.

“Do I have a choice then?”

“No.” The man took his gun from his belt and easily pointed it to your chest. If he shot now he wouldn’t kill you, just harm you. So he wants me alive.

“Fine, fine,” you mumbled and lifted your arms in the air to show you were defenceless.

The guy roughly pushed you away from the door and held the barrel to your back as he led you away from the Crow Club.

You weren’t sure why the boy didn’t just put a bullet through your head. If he was part of whoever had burned down The Teufel, why would he want you to stay alive? The rest had been murdered mercilessly, what did they have in mind for you?

However, if he wasn’t not part of the fire, why did he want to have you at all? You couldn’t think of anything you had done wrong or of any danger you could be. You were pretty much just a harmless teen in a strange city.

The man pushed you through the street and over a bridge. You made a few turns into small alleys and streets, passing houses in all shapes and kinds. Behind some windows flickered a soft light, others were dark. You heard screaming from one house and music from the house next to it. Laughter of children and cursing from adults.

You stopped in front of a house that looked exactly like all the others; crippled and on the brink of collapse. The guy held his gun to you as he kicked open the door and then pressed the barrel deeper in your back to make you walk. Slowly you passed over the threshold and stood still in the hall of the house.

Much different from what you had expected, the inside of the house was not damaged like the outside. While the colours and construction did look old, the house was built to survive for longer than just a few years.

“Up,” the man mumbled and he nodded to the stairs.

You followed his order and headed up the stairs, feeling your legs ache from all the walking on land you had done in the past hours. Though you got used quite fast to the difference, a sudden change from sea to shore did have its effects on your body. Especially if you crossed an entire city twice in one night.

The staircase led to a landing with many doors. The house wasn’t particularly big and with that many doors, you figured the rooms must be small. You wondered what this house was used for. It almost had the feeling of a hostel, but there wouldn’t be many guests if putting a gun to someone’s head was their way of advertising.

“That room,” said the guy and he gestured at one of the doors in the corridor.

The wooden planks creaked under the weight of your body. The door of the room was closed and the man with the gun knocked on it with much more restraint than you expected from someone who had just abducted you from the streets.

It was silent for a moment as you and the man waited for the door to open. Your heart was beating in your throat and you swallowed deeply. Nerves were running through your body, sending tingles down to your fingertips.

The door opened and before you had time to look inside, the guy pushed you inside and closed the door again behind you. You were inside a small room, with a bed, a chair and a closet that put half the room in shadows. On the wall opposite of the door was a little window, showing the side of another building that stood next to the house. The window reminded you of the portholes inside the hold of a ship, your least favourite place as there was very little light.

However, the room didn’t have much space in your mind as your attention was caught by the person in the room. He could not be much older than you yet it felt like this boy had more character than an old man. His face was hidden in the shadows but you could make out the hard lines framed by sleek black hair. His eyes shone like emeralds under his dark brows and there was a malicious glance in them when they rested on you.

“Sit,” he spoke and the rock salt rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. “Please.”

You sat down on the simple wooden chair in the middle of the room, though you rather would’ve kept standing. The boy was towering over you now, standing in front of you, leaning on his cane. Your eyes slid to the silver handle under his gloved hands. It had the shape of a crow’s head.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to calm the nerves you felt rushing through you. You weren’t necessarily afraid of the boy, but you also couldn’t deny the unease in your body.

The boy cocked his head to the side and the smallest wicked grin played on his lips. “An hour ago a ship was set ablaze in Fifth Harbour,” the boy said and you looked away from his stern gaze. “The Teufel. A rather bold way of naming a ship, after the devil, isn’t it? Nothing is left of The Teufel, no plank, no crewmate. Or at least, so is said. That is why you are here, not y/n?”

Your head snapped up to the boy and your eyes narrowed at him. “You know my name?”

“I know lots, y/n, and your name happens to be on that list,” the boy said and it was a little harder for him to hide his smirk. He’s enjoying it, you realised in disbelief. This is what he’s trained for. “I also know that you are the only living crewmate and that you visited my club this evening.”

“Your club?” You frowned—he seemed way too young to have a successful gambling club.

“Yes, my club,” the boy repeated and he shifted his weight, letting a sigh fall from his lips. “You sat at the bar and ordered more drinks in two hours than an average adult would in four hours.”

You looked back at your feet. You knew you had trouble staying away from the drinks, but that didn’t make it any nicer when someone pointed it out. At sea it had never really mattered—the others had drunk with you and as long as you did your duties successfully the captain didn’t care if you were sober or not.

“You spoke with no one and just watched the games, until my barman got some information out of you,” the boy went on and you felt his gaze on you. “He said you were able to determine the outcome of the game after just the first card was played.”

“So?” you shrugged. Surely that was not why the boy had gotten you there and it was definitely not something that was on your mind right now. All you could think of were the screams and the longer you sat in the dark room, the more cramped it became.

“Can you?”

“I don’t see how—”

“Answer the question.” His voice was hard and cold, but laced with curiosity that he failed to hide from you.

“I guess I can, yes.”

The boy stayed silent for a while and the tension in the room reached for your throat. You had never been one for small rooms, that’s why you had chosen for the sea. And now the anxiety of all that had happened that night was piling up on your chest, like someone pressing down on you. The walls were closing in on you, leaving you gasping for breath. Your clothes were still wet and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck, but you were no longer cold.

You clenched your hands around the fabric of your blouse, feeling it crumple between your fingers. But even in your panicked state you could see the change in demeanor in the boy. He planned this. He had known this would happen, he had deliberately put you in this room, knowing what it would do to you.

“What do you want from me?” you breathed, looking up to meet his eyes, and then added with an intensity you didn’t know was in you: “Did you kill them?”

The hard expression on the boy’s face fell for a moment as he looked at you. For a minute he turned into a boy his age, someone with a soul. “I promise you I didn’t kill them. I had nothing to do with the fire.” Then he straightened his back and slammed his cane on the floor, pulling himself out of the moment. “I have business. We’ll continue in the morning.”

The boy limped to the door and the cane suddenly made more sense. He pulled the door open and stepped through it when you interrupted him.

“Who are you?”

He looked over his shoulder and casted a dark glance at your figure. You had stood up from your chair and were still holding onto the back for balance. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t read and you feared that it wouldn’t be the last time that happened.

“Kaz Brekker. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

-=-=-

The mattress you were lying on was lumpy and hard, forcing your back to straighten in a way it never had to. The blanket was itchy and heavy and pressed hard on your chest, not allowing you to take deep breaths.

You were shifting in and out of sleep, unable to tell reality from imagination. One moment you were staring at the dark ceiling above you, the next you were sitting alone in the hold of The Teufel. The room around you moved in front of your eyes, the shadows dancing on the walls. In the ship, water slowly rose around you. You tried to get up, tried to run away, but it was as if you were glued to the floor. Unable to move you sat waiting for the rising water to reach for your throat.

Something moved in the room. It was a flicker of a shadow in the corner of your eye but enough for you to notice. You forced your eyes open, but the water was rising so quickly it was impossible for you to focus on anything else. The water level was at your jaw now. You took a final breath and the shadow in the room moved again. Closing your eyes against the water, it rose above your nose.

Then there was more movement. The shadow was coming closer to you, moving with the grace of a cloud.

Feeling the water on your face, you opened your eyes and shot up in the bed. The water disappeared and you were in the dark room again, shaking and coughing. Yet the threat wasn’t gone; the shadow was still in the corner.

You shifted to the side and rested your back against the cold wall, looking at the shadow in anticipation. While your heart was beating in your throat, you calmly looked ahead of you until the shadow moved from the corner.

“How did you see me?” the shadow asked and you shrugged.

“You move like a spider.” And I’m afraid of spiders.

Out of the shadows stepped a young girl, hidden in a flowy cloak that moved along with her. The lack of light threw a veil over the room, covering it with a black and white filter, but still you could make out the brown skin of the girl and her almost black eyes, that were staring right at you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though it would be no surprise if the girl had something to do with your meeting with Brekker a few hours ago.

“Look,” the girl said and she moved to sit next to you on the bed. You caught a shimmer of something near her wrists, but when you looked at her she was wearing a light smile. “This isn’t the worst place to end up. You have walked through these streets; you know where you could have ended.”

You thought back of earlier this evening when you were walking through the roads of the Barrel for the first time. The girl was right; if you hadn’t been brought to where you were now you could have turned into the colourless types that you had seen or, worse, you could have ended up in one of the brothels.

“Kaz doesn’t just take anyone in,” the girl continued. “He must think you have some use, or he would have left you on the streets.”

You snorted; that wasn’t exactly a much better prospect.

The girl must have guessed your thought because she chuckled shortly. “I know it does not seem like it now, but trust me—this is the right place to be.”

Silence filled the room for a minute as you thought about the girl’s words. Instinct told you that you could trust her, and that her trust once lost, was lost forever. There were so many questions you wanted to ask her but you were afraid of the answers. You preferred mystery over knowledge right now.

The shadow girl was looking at you with pity on her face, like she felt bad for your situation. There was sympathy behind her eyes and compassion in her touch as she placed her hand shortly over yours, giving it the lightest squeeze.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your throat tightening at the threat of tears.

The girl stared at you for a second and then she gave you a smile. “Inej,” she said. “But you might hear of me as the Wraith.”

Inej got up from her place on the bed and walked to the door. Her cloak fluttered behind her through the air as she walked, falling against her legs when she halted. She turned around to you. “Kaz will send someone to get you in the morning.”

“What will happen?”

“I don’t know what he has planned,” Inej sighed. “But I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do.”

She shot you a final smile and left the room silently. The shadow disappeared as quietly as it had come.

-=-=-

You didn’t know if you had slept at all. Undoubtedly you had dozed off for a while, but for most of the night you had just lain on your back staring at the stains on the ceiling above you. When the morning sun had brightened your room, the hope that it might all be a dream had disappeared when reality came in crashing hard.

The clothes you had worn last night had dried from the rain, but they no longer brought the comfort they used to. Here wearing those clothes meant that you stood out; you couldn’t blend in. When the same guy as last night had knocked on your door and ordered you to follow him you had left your jacket behind, deciding that the rest of your outfit was conspicuous enough on its own.

Last night in the dark the house had been silent, but now you heard noise everywhere. There were many more doors than you had thought and behind every one lay a secret. The house seemed bigger now it was light. Although there was no direct sunlight in the corridors you could sense that it was day. Last night you had felt mystery as you had walked through the corridors but now it felt more like the boarding school you had gone to with all the whispers.

“Where are we going?” you asked the boy who had brought you to this house.

“Crow Club,” he grumbled and then kept silent.

You walked the same route you had last night, but now the streets were deserted and the houses quiet. The Barrel was the part of Ketterdam that lived at night.

The big, silver crow that hung above the entrance of the Crow Club like a guardian quickly came to your sight and you shivered lightly. Entering that club was what had gotten you in this situation and you feared you would only get deeper in this mess when you entered again.

However, the big guy behind you left you no choice and before you even had time to think he had already pushed you over the threshold.

Stumbling inside you were greeted by the same black, windowless walls and the same stuffed scent. The crimson stools at the bar were unoccupied but the tables on the gambling floor were played on, despite the early hours. Games of Ridderspel and Spijker were in full motion as you were led through a door on the side of the room.

“Close the door behind you, Pim,” a voice from the shadows said and the boy who had led you there, apparently named Pim, closed the door.

You looked at the strange scene in front of you. You hadn’t known what to expect but it sure wasn’t a gambling parlor. There was one big table in the middle of the room and around it stood eight chairs. Only one of the chairs was occupied and with a jolt you recognised the boy from the Zemeni guns.

“Goede morgen,” he smiled at you as he leaned back in his chair. “Care for a game?”

“What?” You stood rooted to the ground, staring in confusion at the guy at the table.

From the shadows on the side of the room Kaz Brekker stepped. The loud, rhythmic thud from his cane on the floor was the only sound in the room as he walked to the table. He stopped in the middle and looked up at you with his hard cold gaze.

“Play a game,” he said, resting his two hands on the crow head of his cane.

“I don’t understand,” you tried.

“It’s easy,” Brekker said. “You said you were good at card games, right? So prove it—play a game with Jesper.”

Jesper, the boy at the table, flashed his smile full of white teeth at you and raised his eyebrows. It felt like a trap, but you couldn’t forget what Inej had said to you that night. I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do. An invitation to a game wouldn’t be your end.

Behind you Pim stepped closer to you and put his hand on your shoulder to push you forward. Within a second you had turned around and taken hold of his arm, twisting it dangerously close to breaking. The boy looked at you with somewhat of fright on his face and there was a little wave of triumph in your stomach. The emotions of the situation got the better of you and your heart was racing as you felt the anger rushing through your veins.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed through gritted teeth and pushed his arm a little further. “Understand?”

Pim’s eyes flashed to the two people behind you and he recollected himself. He pulled his arm from your grip and stepped back to the door, avoiding your eyes and looking gruffly ahead.

You turned around and found Jesper looking at you in awe and even Brekker couldn’t hide his surprise. Then you nodded at the two men and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Let’s play then.”

Brekker nodded approvingly and shuffled the cards with his gloved hands. Your eyes were glued to the smooth movement of the crows imprinted cards. They slid through the fingers of the pale black-haired smoothly like water.

“I assume you know Ridderspel?” the gloved dealer asked as he placed four cards in front of you on the table.

“Of course,” you said, watching Jesper intently as this one got his cards.

Because everything in the situation was new for you, it would take you two or three rounds before you would get used to the game. All, from the cards and chairs to your opponent and the dealer, was unfamiliar to you and combining that with the pressure of supposably your life on the line only made it easier to overlook things.

Therefore you had to pay extra attention, and mostly to Jesper. His easygoing attitude and big smile were dangerous tricks that could throw you off without any difficulty but you wouldn’t fall for them. You were looking for little things that would give him away, like the slightest falter of his smile, a tiny frown or nervous twitch.

Jesper picked up his cards and you watched him from the corner of your eyes as you pretended to look at your own cards. For this round however those wouldn’t really matter. First you had to find Jesper’s tell. That you might lose and give him confidence was only an additional benefit; people made more mistakes when they’re blinded by the price.

At first nothing seemed to happen. Jesper kept the same smirk on his face and played the round with nonchalance, taking all but one pair in the game. Triumphantly he leaned his chair back on two chair legs and stacked his chips in front of him.

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get it later,” he said, giving you a wink.

You shot him a sweet smile back and took the new cards off the table. After one look you had them memorised and you looked at Jesper. He was looking at his cards with sparkles in his eyes, but yet again it was no different than before.

Silently you cursed yourself. Last night he had seemed so open and easy to read, but you realised now that there were many more layers to the guy with the pearl-handled revolvers.

Again you lost the game, now with all your cards being lost to Jesper. His pile of red chips was building and yours was only getting lower. You looked at your chips. If you didn’t win soon the game would be over and you’d lose, and you didn’t want to think what consequences that had.

The third game were the last cards of the deck before it was shuffled again. Your hand was to your benefit with no card lower than six. You knew there weren’t many high cards, if any at all, left in the game since Jesper had beaten you with high numbers every time. That meant that he would have low cards and now was the perfect time to watch his reaction.

You took a new approach to finding his tell. Instead of focusing on his facial expressions, that he proved to have under control, you now concentrated on his body language. His shoulders hung relaxed and his arms were resting on the edge of the table. Though you couldn’t see his legs under the table, you knew they weren’t standing neatly on the ground but were instead crossed or at least moving. Nothing in his posture gave him away.

Until it did. It was a flash of a second, if you’d blinked you wouldn't have seen it. For a fraction of time Jesper’s shoulders fell and his arms stiffened. No one else in the room noticed it, but your senses became hypersensitive.

Then, when you looked at his face, you saw more. His smirk wasn’t genuine anymore and the sparkles in his eyes weren’t as bright as before. It were minuscule changes, but big messages to you.

“I raise,” you spoke calmly and you pushed forward the last of your chips. It was all or nothing.

You saw Brekker raising his eyebrow in the corner of your eye, but you were focused on Jesper. His brows furrowed a little and he pushed forward the same amount. Though he had chips left, if you won this round you would have much more than he, meaning you won this game.

“Let’s play,” you grinned and opened with your six, your lowest card, but still a rather high card.

Jesper’s card would be crucial. If he had higher than a six, he would play that and you wouldn’t win the game. If he had a six, he would play that one and the cards would be evened out, but you would know that the six was his highest card. If he played anything lower than a six it would mean that you had won the game, for no one would lose a round on purpose and play a lower card when they had a higher one.

Expectantly you looked at Jesper. His smirk had gone and made place for a frown as he looked at the card on the table. His joyful bluffing face was nowhere to be seen and a sigh fell from his lips when he realised his defeat. He threw a five on the table and sunk back in his chair.

With a grin on your face you played the rest of the round and won all Jesper’s cards. At the end of the game, you rested your chin on your folded hands and smiled at Jesper. “You know what?” you started and Jesper looked up at you. “I think I got it.”

-=-=-

Kaz and Jesper had left the room after the game and Pim was standing on the outside of the door, making sure no one would get in. They had not said a word to you when they left and now you were alone in the silent gambling parlor. At least, that’s what they wanted you to believe.

“Inej,” you said. “Come out please.”

No matter how focused you had been on the game, you hadn’t missed the little shadow sneaking inside near the end. And you hadn’t missed how Brekker’s eyes had shifted to one particular corner while he was watching your game with Jesper.

The girl appeared from the shadow and silently walked over to you, giving you a small smile. “How did you know I was here?”

“Because you wanted to be seen,” you simply said and by the way her eyes widened you knew you were right. “I don’t really know you, but I have the feeling you can be really invisible if you want. Me seeing you is not a coincidence or special talent of mine. You wanted me to see you.”

Inej chuckled softly and shook her head. “How do you do that? Knowing what I feel by just looking at me?”

You smiled and shrugged. “I had a tutor,” you said. “Mayranoush was her name. She taught me how to know people before they even see you.”

The memory of The Teufel’s quartermaster hurt. The weird situation you were in had taken your mind off the loss for a moment, but now there was nothing to distract you the pain came double as hard.

You thought of your crew and how much you already missed them. Captain Nerseh and his brusque manners but warm heart; Marina and her cheerfulness; Vinay, who was the only one who still had wanted to play games with you. You missed them all so much and you couldn’t believe that they weren’t there anymore.

But the one you missed the most was Stefan. He had been your best friend for the past two years, you had spent every day together and never had you thought you’d have to say goodbye. You thought of his last words to you. Back then you hadn’t known what to say, but now as you were sitting there without him you knew that you loved him too. But it was too late.

“Jer elsker pe,” you whispered to yourself.

“What?” Inej asked and you looked up. You had forgotten she was sitting next to you, so silent she was.

“Nothing,” you mumbled and then turned to her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” Inej answered and she smiled at you.

“Have you ever loved someone?”

Inej’s eyes flickered to the door Kaz had just left through and then she looked at you in silence for a minute. “No,” she said finally. “Never loved like that. Why?”

You stared at the upholstered table in front of you and swallowed away the pain in your throat. “I just… It hurts so much. Everyone always says that love is the most beautiful thing in the world, but no one ever mentions the pain…”

“Maybe the pain makes you appreciate it more,” Inej said. “Often we don’t see what we have until it’s gone.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you shook your head. Inej was right; you hadn’t known you loved Stefan until he was gone. But that didn’t matter anymore. There was no way you could get the Fjerdan back and you wouldn’t turn into a mess trying to find one. You would keep your love for him deep in your heart until it was nothing more than a memory.

“Life’s not fair,” you said and you wiped the tears from your face. “But I’ll get my even.”

“How?” Inej asked and you turned to her.

“I will find who burned down my home and I will destroy them to the ground they’re standing on.”

“I suggest you find help for that,” the cold voice of Kaz Brekker said.

You looked to your side to meet Kaz and Jesper. Pim was standing inside of the room again, still avoiding your eyes when you looked at him. Jesper was watching you with a smirk and he winked at you when he caught your eyes.

Finally you turned to Brekker, who was looking at you with a peculiar expression. There was something playing around his lips that you would almost call a smile and his eyes had lost the ice cold gaze.

“Who do you suggest?” you asked, looking up at Kaz.

He shrugged half and said, before he walked away: “I have some connections.”

Pim and he disappeared behind the door and you were left dumbfounded with Inej and Jesper. The latter placed his hand on your shoulder and chuckled. You looked between him and Inej and raised an eyebrow. “What just happened?”

“I think you just became a member of the Dregs.”

- - - - -

special thanks to @awritingtree for the support and encouragement <3

there’s no taglist yet, but let me know if youw ant to be added to the SoC-taglist!

MASTERLIST

#six of crows #six of crows imagine #crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #soc #six of crows x reader #the crows x reader #crows imagine #the crows

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hiii i've just spent the last 36-48 hours reading your works and oh dear do i lOVE your writing and this universe :') . i dont know if you are taking requests but i think it would be kinda interesting (and low key hilarious) if you would write the lions reacting/reading thirst tweets? idk if this is a dumb idea or not but just like some of them reacting to them and going "well i'm actually gay/married so.. no!.. but thank you!"

Part two of the six-month celebration, everyone! Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who submitted comments--I had over 60 come in, and while I couldn’t include them all, reading them was a true joy. The Lion Pride channel was something I started writing on a whim; I never expected it to grow like this <3 Much love to all of you!

TW for alcohol mentions and thirst tweets (nothing explicit)

“Why do I always fear for my life around you?” Sirius asked as Marlene settled into a cushy chair to the side of their table.

She smiled, catlike, and crossed her legs primly. “Because only Finn appreciates me.”

“That’s just the Aries connection, Cap,” Finn said with a smug grin.

“We’re both Leos, Harzy.”

“Eh, close enough.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at her. “You should probably start asking questions before this devolves further, Marley. He’s gonna keep digging himself a hole and we won’t get anything done.”

Marlene’s smile returned with a vengeance. “That’s where you’re wrong, Loops! We’re not doing any questions at all today.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Read it and weep.” She tossed a small posterboard at him like a frisbee; he caught it, barely, though both Talker and Sirius had to duck out of the way. Marlene faced the camera and winked. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, everyone! Today I’m here with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Thomas Walker, and our wonderful cubs to react to your comments on our videos!”

“Bet you thought we’d never see ‘em, huh?” James asked.

“The comments fall into four categories: thirsty, funny, mean, and sweet. I will be reading two of those groups, and my lovely fiancée will be reading the others because she is the human embodiment of sunshine.”

“If you make Dorcas read the mean ones, I’ll be sad,” Leo laughed.

Marlene gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I’m passing up a chance to roast you guys? Puh-lease. We’re starting off strong with some thirsty, thirsty comments! Loops, you’re up first.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

She cleared her throat, then turned a smoldering look on their table. “I didn’t know I had a freckle kink, but then Remus Lupin appeared and now here we are.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus muttered, covering his face with his hands as the others howled with laughter.

“Lupin has been looking sexy as hell on the bench for years now. I'm so glad people are simping over him like he deserves,” Marlene read. “And there’s a little heart emoji, just for you.”

“This is every one of my nightmares come to life,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms.

James lifted his glasses to swipe away the tears of mirth that had gathered in his eyes. “Are you kidding? This is everything I have ever wanted.”

“Y’know, it is so good to see people drooling over this hot piece of ass at last,” Finn sighed, reaching over to ruffle Remus’ hair as his face turned bright red.

“One more, and it’s a good one,” Marlene warned. She licked her lips, then had to take a moment to laugh before speaking. “I feel like Remus Lupin is the type of guy to bake you muffins—”

“Accurate,” Leo said.

“—but is also a kinky motherfucker.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open as the table erupted into cheering. Logan pumped both fists in the air and Sirius was laughing so hard no sound came out; Talker sank so low in his chair that only his head and shoulders were visible as he applauded.

“Why do people comment these things?” Remus asked, barely above a whisper. “Holy fuck, I’m engaged!”

“Speaking of…” Marlene raised her eyebrows and Sirius smile drooped.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Buckle up, Cap!” She rolled her shoulders out. “Get someone who looks at you the way Sirius Black looks at a hockey puck.”

Remus snorted; James’ laugh was so short and sharp that it set everyone else off as well. “That sounds like I have a hockey puck fetish!” Sirius complained. “Which is so, so not true!”

Finn made an ‘ehh’ noise, and he leaned around Remus to smack the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Next one!” Marlene announced. “Sirius Black was my bi awakening.”

A beat of silence passed. “Is that it?” Sirius ventured, looking nervous.

“Yep.”

“Aw, man, that one’s lame,” Talker said, shaking his head. “Everyone thinks Cap is a little hot.”

Remus shot him a look. “A little?”

“Fair. Marley, I dare you to find one person who wouldn’t tap that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Me, though that dovetails nicely into the last one for our lovely captain. Ahem. I understand why Remus is with Sirius: he's hot as hell and rich, I'd hit that too.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Leo gasped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Finn and Logan turned to him in unison with a mix of disbelief and offense written all over their faces. “Dude.”

“First of all, Leo, you found yourself two hot rich boys,” Remus interrupted. “Second, that comment is forgetting that he’s funny, and smart, and nice, and—”

Seconds after the initial cover, Sirius took his hand off Remus’ mouth as if he’d been burned. “Did you just lick me?”

“Moving on! This is in all caps, so be prepared.” Marlene shuffled through her posterboards and turned to Leo with an ominous smile. He glanced toward the camera in mild fear. “What does a person have to do to get some hockey player ass?! Like why is Leo Knut so fine?!”

“Amen!” Logan called as Leo blushed.

“According to six of the seven people at this table, the answer to that first question is to be a hockey player,” Talker laughed. “The world may never know the answer to the second, sadly.”

“Lily could play hockey,” James said, resting his chin on his hand. Every single one of the others rolled their eyes. “She could! She’d be so good at it, too.”

“We know,” Finn groaned. “You only mention it every other day.”

“Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Potter,” Marlene began with a sly look as she held up a new card. “Do James and Lily Potter need a third? Asking for me specifically.”

James paused, dumbstruck, while the others drummed their hands on the table. “…no?”

A general sigh of disappointment went up. “I was really hoping he’d say yes,” Leo said.

“Ask Lily next time,” Remus recommended.

James turned to him and blinked slowly. “What are you insinuating, Loops?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry, James, you’ll like this one,” Marlene assured him. “James Potter is the ultimate dilf.”

“You’re damn right I am!” James whooped. “Vindication, bitches!”

“Marley, what have you done?” Talker whispered. “He’ll never shut up about that, now.”

“Oh, never,” James all but cackled. “I’m officially a dilf, you guys!”

“I hate you,” Sirius groaned.

“Tremzy, are you ready? We’ve got a couple very special ones for you,” Marlene said.

“Anything to get us out of this hell,” Logan begged.

“In that case: Logan Tremblay’s ass is better than Sidney Crosby’s. I said what I said.”

A pleased flush rose to his cheeks as Finn and Leo high-fived over his head. “Really? Thank you!”

“And they would be correct!” Finn announced. “Best ass in the league.”

“Come on,” Remus scoffed, though he was smiling.

Marlene cleared her throat to get their attention. “I don’t think I can legally read this on air without being censored or getting the video taken down, but…”

She turned the board around; all seven of them leaned forward to read it, then slowly looked at Logan, who turned vivid red. “Mon dieu. Is that—someone commented that on a video? Like, for people to see?”

“I feel like I need to bleach my eyes,” Sirius said just as Finn began shaking with silent laughter.

Leo’s face fell. “You wrote that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Finn wheezed, scooting forward to fist-bump Marlene. “We wanted to see what you guys would say. Fuckin’ hell, your faces.”

“Alright, Talkie, are you ready?” Marlene asked around her laughter. “Seeing Thomas Walker with a baby makes me want to have his babies…please hit me up.”

He held up his index finger and took a second to laugh before responding. “If that’s Noelle, yes. If that’s anyone else, I’m flattered, but absolutely not.”

Logan made a face. “Ew.”

“We have two more,” Marlene warned. “For some very special people that aren’t here today, but I think you’ll like them anyway.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust the look on your face.”

“Daddy Dumo makes me swoon.”

A muddle of horrified noises echoed through the studio as all seven of them cringed. “Oh, my god, that’s my dad!” Logan yelped, covering his ears. Sirius looked vaguely ill and Remus’ shoulders crept toward his ears; James shuddered.

“The worst part is, we all know he can get it,” Finn said with a grimace. “God, I feel like I just heard someone talking about my parents having sex.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that,” Marlene laughed. “Last one, from one of our truth or drinks.”

Remus went pale half a second too late. “N—”

“Hope Lupin is a milf.”

A broken noise escaped his mouth and he clamped his hand over it while Talker rubbed his back in sympathy. Sirius shook his head. “Somehow, that’s worse than Dumo’s.”

“Whoever sent that in, show some respect!” Leo said indignantly as Remus bonked his forehead against the table. “Hope Lupin is a lovely woman!”

“I think they noticed that particular fact,” Marlene pointed out, earning herself several scandalized shouts of her name and a whine from Remus. “That’s all we have for thirst comments! Are you ready for some funny ones?”

“Anything,” Remus pleaded. “I am begging you, anything else.”

Marlene shook her head as she stood, still smiling, and kissed Dorcas on the cheek when she entered the frame. “Go for it, love.”

“Dorcas!” they all cheered, lighting up immediately.

“Hey, guys, it’s been a while!” She curled up in Marlene’s vacant spot and took her own posterboards out from underneath the seat. “Alright, let’s rock and roll. Pascal Dumais is the team dad and nothing will change my mind, and Tremzy is the annoying youngest child.”

“That is so accurate,” Sirius laughed, leaning just out of range of Logan’s playful punch. “Whoever commented that has no idea how right they are.”

“We’ve got a whole sibling dynamic thing going on,” Talker agreed. “Tremzy’s the baby of the family, Cap is the quietly chaotic middle child, and Pots is the older brother that starts shit and inevitably gets blamed for however out-of-control it gets.”

Dorcas nodded. “You are one hundred percent correct. In a similar vein: Pots was the dad jokes friend before he was even a dad.”

“Painfully so,” Leo confirmed, shaking his head as they all groaned in agreement. James looked rather smug about the whole thing. “So many puns.”

“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Dorcas mused as she drew a new card. “If Tremzy looked directly into my eyes for even two seconds, all of my problems would be solved. I am sure of it.”

“Yes,” Finn and Leo said in unison.

“It’s something about the eyes, I think,” James added. “They just stand out so much that it’s a little startling straight-on.”

Logan looked to the camera and stared at it, unblinking; it zoomed in slightly on his face. “Everything will be fine,” he said with mock solemnity. “Your problems are solved.”

“Well, that was terrifying,” Sirius said drily. “Got any more for us, Ms. Meadowes?”

“Of course I do! We’ve got quite a few for Loops and Leo.” She took a sip of her water before getting comfortable again. “My favorite thing about these videos is that we can all see Loops get steadily buffer as the season goes on. Good for you, king!”

“Flex! Flex! Flex!” the six of them chanted; Remus rolled his eyes, but slid his sweater sleeve to his elbow and flexed his forearm, resulting in enough hoots and hollers that they could probably be heard a block away. Talker fake-swooned into Leo’s arms and Remus lightly whacked him on the shoulder.

“Remus Lupin looks like he has squishable cheeks,” Dorcas read aloud.

“He does!” James cooed, scooting over and reaching out.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “I swear to god I’ll bite you.”

Sirius cupped his face between his palms and kissed his nose, then pinched both his cheeks gently. “Ta-da!”

“How many of these do we have?” Remus asked, though his voice was a bit muffled by Sirius’ hands.

“Just one more for you, and it’s my personal favorite.” Dorcas assured him. “I love how the team probably had no impulse control until Loops joined.”

Sirius let go of his face and dissolved into laughter as Finn nearly fell on the floor. “Oh my—you think he has impulse control?” Talker slapped the edge of the table as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Hell no, Loops is the first person to do stupid shit with us.”

“Yeah, I just don’t get caught,” Remus added around his own laughter. “Everyone thinks I’m such a hardass goody-two-shoes and it lets me get away with so much more than you delinquents.”

“Speaking of delinquents,” Dorcas continued. “This one is from our ‘Taste Testing Sexy Alcohol’ video: ah, yes, now I know how to do a body shot. 10/10, very educational video.”

“Do not take educational advice from us,” Finn blurted instantly. “I know this is a joke, but please exercise caution. That video was a ton of fun but a nightmare to recover from.”

Sirius winced at the memory. “I took two naps and then wished for death for a full day.”

“On a lighter note, who’s ready for some Knutty appreciation?” Dorcas smiled at her cards. “I've only had Leo Knut for a season and half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

“Big mood,” four of them said simultaneously.

Leo turned to the camera with a concerned look on his face. “That’s a meme reference, but are y’all okay?”

“No,” Dorcas answered. “Especially not this next person: Sometimes I do something productive and then I remember @LeoKnut is a 19 year old professional athlete who radiates happiness and with two of the hottest boyfriends the good lord has made, and then my bowl of packaged ramen seems less impressive.”

“I’m proud of your ramen,” Leo said, even as the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. “And I appreciate the note about my boyfriends, because they are definitely the hottest people the good lord has made.”

Talker stuck his lip out in a pout. “Rude.”

“Sorry, Talkie, I’m biased.”

“Last one before Marlene comes back, so you’d better enjoy it!” Dorcas announced. “Did the Lions effectively utilize girl power when they wrecked toxic masculinity, yes or yes?”

“Can we utilize girl power?” Remus wondered, resting his shin on his hand. “Isn’t that exclusively for, y’know, women?”

“We can utilize himbo power,” Finn suggested.

James gave him an offended look. “Not all of us are himbos!”

“Okay, but you definitely are.”

“I am not!” James held up his fingers to count. “There are only, like, three qualifications, right? I might be strong, hot, and respectful, but I’m not dumb so it doesn’t count!”

“Pots,” Remus said quietly, hiding his smile for half a second. “Buddy, that was four things.”

James paused, then sighed in resignation. “Ah, fuck, I’m a himbo.”

“You really are.”

“At least we don’t promote toxic masculinity.”

They raised their waterbottles in a ‘cheers’ motion as Marlene and Dorcas switched spots; Marlene stretched her arms over her head and grabbed the new boards. “I’m back, beloved himbos. Talker, Leo, you are beloved by the people and have no mean comments. Cap, we’re starting with you.”

“Are they actually mean mean?” he asked.

“Sirius Black seems like a little bitch. Not in a bad way, necessarily. He just. Seems like he'd be a little bitch."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. That answers one question.”

“He’s not a little bitch,” Leo said. “Pouty on occasion, but not a little bitch.”

Remus gave him a long look, then shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, you teared up a little when Hattie got a splinter in her paw but didn’t even yell when you almost sliced your finger off while making dinner.”

“Duality of man,” Finn said sagely.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow. “Finn O’Hara’s hair kind of reminds me of Garfield the Cat.”

“Alright, that’s just rude.”

“It does not!” Logan gasped at the same time Leo made a noise of agreement.

Finn turned to him in utter betrayal. “Nutter Butter, I thought you liked my hair!”

“I do!” Leo defended. “But they’re not entirely wrong. It’s very orange in the sun.”

“I’m never going to forget that,” Finn muttered, staring at the floor.

“Ugh, it bothers me so much that Lupin just objectifies Black all the time!” Marlene read in a high-pitched, nasal voice. “No respect in that relationship!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Marlene stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I have no idea what videos they were watching. Do you feel objectified in your relationship, Cap? I know the opinion of total strangers really bothers you a lot.”

“I’m really glad you picked up on that,” he said with false gravity. “Yeah, it’s such a bummer when my hot fiancé says I look nice. Such a blow to my self-esteem.”

“That was supposed to be a roast against me,” Remus said, looking amused. “Talk about backfiring.”

“Are you ready, Pots? This one’s pretty brutal,” Marlene warned. James nodded and Finn linked their hands for moral support. “James Potter is a swiftie and you cannot tell me otherwise.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “…yeah? That’s true? T Swift is a regular occurrence on the locker room playlist.”

“Also, James Potter looks like someone who would think black pepper was spicy.”

“Now that one is mean,” he complained as the others burst out laughing. “It’s not my fault I have sensitive taste buds!”

“Oh, honey,” she said under her breath as she took a new card. “Get ready, Tremzy. This first one is short and sweet: Logan Tremblay looks like a lesbian.”

“That is not an insult,” Logan laughed. “Every lesbian I know is rad as fuck. I wish I looked that good in a leather jacket.”

“I just realized Logan doesn’t look short cause he’s next to bunch of hockey players, he’s short cause he’s 5’9.”

The smile slipped off his face in a millisecond as the others roared with laughter. “Quoi?”

“Oh, she got you good,” Sirius gasped, patting his shoulder clumsily. “Holy fuck, can I frame that?”

“That’s not what it says.” An edge of distress appeared in Logan’s voice. “Marley, that’s not what it says.”

James sat on the floor with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “You’re fucking—whoever sent that in, you are my new favorite person. Jesus.”

“Do you need a second to recover before we move on?” Dorcas asked as she draped her arms over the back of Marlene’s chair. “The next one is our biggest section by far.”

“It’s the sweet ones, yeah?” Leo asked.

“Right.”

“It might be a good idea to do those before Lo spontaneously combusts.”

“Agreed!” She swapped with Marlene and hauled a short stack of posterboards out from their hiding place with a smile. “A hug from Dumo can probably solve any issue.”

“Facts,” Logan said. “I could really use one right about now, too.”

“Has anyone noticed how blue Leo Knut’s eyes are?”

“Yes,” the six of them chorused.

Finn gave him a dreamy look. “Every single day.”

“When I first read this one, I thought I wrote it,” Dorcas said with a snort. “Someone give Marlene a raise. No reason why, I just love her.”

“Can we do that?” Sirius asked, looking toward the camera crew. “Can we lobby to give you guys raises? Because you definitely deserve it after all the bullshit you deal with to make these videos watchable, and Marlene, you’ve drawn the short end of the stick ninety percent of the time.”

“How?” she called off-screen.

“You have to actually talk to us and try to get answers.”

“Fair.”

Dorcas finished scribbling something down on her notepad. “Just making a note of this conversation for future reference. Moving on! Sirius Black and James Potter are a prime example of hockey husbands, and I adore them.”

“The ironic part of that is that we’re both in committed relationships, but we’re basically married,” James mused.

Remus shook his head. “You guys are so married. Lily wanted to get you matching rings for your birthday, Pots.”

“That would be so cool!” they said in perfect unison. Remus turned to the camera and spread his hands in a case in point motion.

Dorcas stifled her laughter before moving on. “This one is cute. Give Remus Lupin all the hugs! I feel like I could tell him he’s an inspiration and he’d be so nice about it—” She paused to glance up at them. “—this next bit is in parentheses: all the LGBT Lions give me that vibe, but Cap and Knutty are super intimidating so I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Leo’s face fell and Sirius’ eyebrows pitched. “I’m not intimidating!” Leo protested. “I thought we already went over that! Loops gives fantastic hugs, but I want some, too.”

“He definitely deserves all the hugs in the world, but I promise I’m nice,” Sirius said, a bit softer than usual. “Is it because we’re tall?”

Dorcas half-shrugged. “Probably. It’s a little startling at first. Oh, I could’ve written this one, too: The Venn diagram of men I trust and the Gryffindor Lions is a full circle.”

Talker beamed at the camera. “Thank you!”

“So many hockey guys are such douchebags,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I’m really glad we don’t do that shit.”

“Me, too.” Dorcas slid her old card under her chair. “Sirius Black’s hair looks so soft and I just want to touch it so bad.”

“It is so soft,” Remus agreed immediately. “You have no idea.”

“Everyone wants to touch Cap’s hair,” Finn said, sighing. “It’s so majestic.”

“I need a haircut.”

“No, you don’t,” Remus said as he tugged a stray curl. Sirius hummed.

“This one is from the interview some you did with Jules and Katie: these hockey boys being so soft with kids is my aesthetic! Like, it’s just so adorable to see these big, intimidating dudes be so, so sweet! Love them all!” She turned the card for them to see. “And then they added a heart at the end.”

“It’s impossible to be around those kids and not be happy,” James said. “They’re just too cute and wonderful.”

“Yeah, I love kids.” Finn nodded. “Especially the Dumais and Jules. They’re a hoot.”

“Jules would die if he heard you say that,” Remus laughed. “The hero worship is still going strong with most of you.”

“This one made me laugh when I first read it, but it’s really sweet,” Dorcas informed them. “Anyone else feel like we were deceived these past five years into thinking Cap was this hard-ass man, when in reality he's a cuddle bug who definitely captures and releases spiders instead of squishing them?”

“You weren’t deceived, I was just closeted,” Sirius said. “Also, I absolutely squish spiders.”

Remus gave him a look. “No, you do not. That’s my job. I’m the catch and release person if I can get away with it.”

James shook his head. “The third week of practices you saw a spider and threw me at it.”

“You did what?” Finn asked.

“There was a spider in my stall,” Sirius sighed, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. “And Pots and I were talking so I didn’t see it until I almost sat on it, and my brain decided the only logical thing to do would be to grab him and shove him toward the spider.”

“That was after you shrieked,” Talker added. “Like, literally shrieked. I’ve never heard anyone make a noise like that.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled. “We get it, I don’t like spiders.”

Remus shrugged. “But you are a cuddle bug. They got that part right.”

“We’re in the final two!” Dorcas announced. “This one has some pictures to go with it, so it’s on my phone. Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what these bitches have.”

“It’s us!” Leo cooed as the phone made its way down the line. In the upper corner of the screen, the photo appeared—it had been taken in New York, and Logan’s whole face was alight with happiness as Leo and Finn each pressed a kiss to his cheek. The camera caught him mid-laugh, so his eyes were closed and his chin was tucked slightly into Finn’s Strand hoodie.

“That’s my screensaver,” Finn said with a grin, pulling his phone out and turning it toward the camera without moving away from Leo. “One of my favorites.”

“I forgot you took that one,” Logan murmured. He hooked his chin over Leo’s shoulder and kissed his cheek; the four others at the table gave soft are you seeing this? looks to the camera and Dorcas smiled.

“Pots, I think yours is next. I hate to break it to you, Talkie, but they didn’t get any of you and Noelle.”

“We don’t take a ton of pictures together,” Talker said as James took the phone. “I mean, we take a bunch of selfies, but we don’t live close enough to each other to actually post that often. What picture is it, J?”

James was staring down at the picture with an unbearably sweet expression. “It’s our wedding. That’s my favorite one, actually.”

Like Logan, they had been captured while laughing—Lily was bent slightly at the waist as James clapped, his glasses just as askew as the flower crown on her head. It was impossible to tell who had told the joke originally, but they were both radiant in the sunset.

“That’s a really good one,” Sirius said with an unreadable look on his face.

“Well, well, well, fancypants, you two got a video.” James wiggled his eyebrows and Remus leaned in to see.

“What kind of video? One of our tikt—oh. Oh, this is so cute.” He shifted his chair over as the short edit began to play. “D, who made this?”

“A fan.”

“It’s really impressive,” Sirius said without taking his eyes off the screen. The edit was a series of photos, both on and off the ice; Sirius knocking their helmets together, then Remus looking back over his shoulder, then both of them in the water playing chicken in the sun. It was a slideshow of their life and their love.

“Can you send that to me?” Remus asked when it was over. “Cause that’s super cool.”

“Sure thing. Are you guys ready for the last one?” When they all nodded, she drummed her fingers on the posterboard and cleared her throat. “Arthur appreciation hours. He deserves it after managing to control the team.”

A cheer went up—all seven stood and applauded, half-laughing and half-whooping. “Miracle worker!” Sirius called.

“Best coach in the league!” Finn added.

“Most tolerant man to ever walk the earth!” Remus raised his water in a toast and they tapped the plastic edges together, nearly spilling all over the table.

Dorcas’ eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to the camera. “That’s it for today, Lions! Tune in next time for more content of our boys, and thank you for such wonderful comments!”

288 notes · View notes

oreosmilkshakes · 3 years

Text

S&M

Summary: Reader finds out something new about Bucky. One she didn’t know he had it in him

Pairing: FATWS!Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: Grinding, just light naughty stuff

A/N: Whew! Another fic coming through. This time, it’s a little naughtier. Enjoy and feedback is always welcomed! Inspired by Rihanna's S&M. Edited and checked by @thebestdecoder

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The first time Y/N asked Bucky to accompany her to the nightclub, he said no. The second time she asked Bucky, again, to accompany her to the nightclub, he said he would think about it. Third time's the charm and with a lot of coaxing and puppy eyes, Bucky finally said yes. There was a nightclub called Bembe that Y/N had always wanted to visit, but didn’t have the time because she was always so cooped up with work.

So when Y/N finally had some time off, what better way to spend it at a nightclub with her hot boyfriend?

“You done yet, doll?” Bucky called from the front door. Y/N made her way down the stairs of their shared apartment, heels clicking against the wooden floor. Bucky’s eyes darken at Y/N’s clothing.

“Sweetheart, you are not wearing that to the club,”

Y/N looked down at her black dress. It was up to her thigh with a slit to show off more skin. Y/N smiled sweetly, leaning up to steal a kiss off Bucky’s lips to his amusement and surprise. Her brown eyes looked at her boyfriend from head to toe. Damn, he looked good all the time. With a black casual suit like that, of course he looked good.

(credits to the owner)

“Come on, babe. No one would dare to look my way. Besides, I got my boyfriend here to protect me. Now, let’s go,” Y/N sashayed her hips out the door, leaving a peeved Bucky behind.

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It didn’t take long for Y/N to adapt to the hard bass of the music that played throughout the club. It was a whole mess of people dancing, drinking, and simply having fun. Y/N held Bucky’s hand, turning to her lover with a big smile and made a beeline towards the bar. “Cosmopolitan for the lady and whiskey for me,” Bucky leaned against the bar. The bartender nodded, proceeding with the drinks. Y/N stood close to Bucky, the smile on her red lips showed no signs of faltering.

The bartender placed both made drinks down, Bucky placed cash down before picking his drink up and faced the dancefloor. His eyes scanned the area and all he saw was people having fun. Dancers were grinding up against one another, moving along to the upbeat music. Y/N sipped her crimson drink, glancing at Bucky. “Wanna dance?”

Bucky tensed a little. He hasn’t danced since, what, the 1940s? Even then, dancing back in the 40s was nothing compared to the heart-racing beat of today’s music.

“I think I’ll pass, Y/N. I don’t dance anymore,” That was a total lie. Steve had mentioned before several times that Bucky was a great dancer and each time, Bucky would respond with a nervous chuckle and a shake of his head.

Y/N continued sipping her drink until it was finished. “Aw, what a shame, babe,” A tiny pout jutted out from her lower lip. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head, and gulped down his whiskey. Soon, the music went straight from EDM to pop. Specifically, in Y/N’s opinion, Rihanna’s best song, S&M.

Na na na come on, come on, come on,

I like it, like it, na, na, na, na, come on

Y/N was not missing this. Not in a million years. “Well, since you’re not dancing, I will,” She blew a kiss to Bucky and made her way to the dancefloor. Her hips swayed to the beat, joining in with the crowd’s movement.

There's no way I'm turning back

Feels so good being bad

Bucky growled under his breath, eyes not leaving Y/N’s figure among the mass of sweaty bodies and straying hands. His tongue slipped between his lips, wetting them. Oh, Bucky wanted to join her, yes he did. What’s stopping him? The Super Soldier didn’t know.

Y/N felt heavily to the beat, looking in Bucky’s direction with a smirk and a curl of her finger. Bucky scoffed, staying where he was. Y/N simply shrugged and continued moving to the beat.

'Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me

Y/N felt hands on her hips. Strong hands and a warm body. It didn’t feel like Bucky at all and she decided to play along. She leaned against the body, moving her body against the broad chest.

Oh no. Hell no. Bucky downed his whiskey in one shot, moving to the dance floor. He glared at the man, who immediately backed away. Y/N smirked, turning to Bucky. She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Was that all it took to get you here?” Y/N purred

Na na na come on, come on, come on,

I like it, like it, come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Bucky gripped Y/N’s hips, moving with his lover to the music. “You teasing me, baby girl? Do you know what happens when you do so? You get punished,” Bucky smacked Y/N’s ass, causing the woman to giggle at the mischievous gesture.

It definitely didn’t take long for Bucky to get used to the groove of the music, Y/N grinding her hips against her lover to rile him up. Soon enough, they were both on the high, the climax of their night. Bucky grabbed Y/N’s head, his tongue licked a stripe from her lips to her forehead. Y/N moved a hand to the back of Bucky’s head with another on his strong jaw, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Tongues fought but clearly, Bucky won and when Y/N pulled away, she was panting. Their eyes met, hips not stopping their movement against one another.

Oh. I love the feeling you bring to me

Oh, you turn me on

It's exactly what I've been yearning for

Give it to me strong

And meet me in my boudoir

Make my body say ah, ah, ah,

I like it, like it

Y/N sang over the music. Bucky laughed, capturing Y/N’s lips in another heated kiss.

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

By the time the song ended and a few more played, Y/N was exhausted and sweaty. The adrenaline was slowly wearing off as she took Bucky’s hand and led him off the dance floor.

“You know what, Mr. Barnes? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Y/N let out a dry laugh, leaning against the bar. At least her makeup didn’t melt off from all the heat, Y/N hoped.

Bucky simply smirked, his arm snaked around her waist. “Doll, I’m full of surprises,” He leaned in, pecking her lips. He rested his forehead against Y/N’s. “Don’t think I forgot what you were trying to do, baby. Punishment is still due,”

Y/N bit her lips, looking up at her lover. “Take me home then, Mr. Barnes, and show me what you got,”

And so Bucky did. The night certainly wasn’t a disappointment at all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #fatws bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #sebastian stan #bucky x y/n

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justanobsessedfangirl · 3 years

Text

The Sacrifice Part 2 - The Maze Runner Minho Imagine

Request from @elizabeth-brown: hey when your requests will be open can you do 'the maze runner' one with minho. where one day when new greenie was coming up he had letter with him. on it there was written that if they sacrificed y/n they would let everyone out. so keepers decided to vote. most of them voted 'yes' so without any emotions Alby kick y/n into the maze. then minho realized his feelings. y/n survived the maze and WCKED took her. after one year she escaped WCKED and ran into the scorch. Minho missed her miserably. y/n searched the safe heaven. and when Group A searched safe heaven they saw y/n and she was so mad. you can end it however you want either she forgives them or not. and please tag me

Masterlist

Part 1

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the kind words! I really appreciate all of it! :)

Word Count: 3.8k

The sun was rising. You stared up at it as you walked, your cracked lips parted, mouth dry beyond belief. The cloth you’d wrapped around your head was already growing warm. Beneath your long-sleeved shirt and jeans, your body was scarred with sunburns. Your backpack hung heavy on your shoulders and scraped against your back painfully. Still, you kept walking through the sand.

Crumbling buildings lined the barren street. At the end, next to an intersection, you saw one that still had an intact roof. You willed yourself to move faster, but your steps continued in the same plodding manner as before. The sun beat down heavier.

A dry wind whispered past, bringing swirls of sand to flight. They looked beautiful in the golden rays of the morning but cut like glass as they whipped past your cheeks. With a grimace, you reached a weathered hand up and pulled some loose cloth farther over your face, squinting your eyes for protection. The sound of your heavy breathing filled your ears.

How familiar that was. How familiar exertion was. Before you could stop yourself from thinking, from remembering, you saw his face. He was by your side, smiling, goading you to run faster. He was betting you that he could reach the doors first.

“If I win, you owe me half your dinner,” came his playful tease, so vividly that you almost thought it was real. If you let your gaze wander, you could barely make out a mirage of him jogging ahead of you.

What was it you’d said, back in that other life, where you ran the Maze and lived in the Glade and weren’t as alone? You smacked your lips together now, looking for any moisture, and croaked, in a hoarse voice, “What do I get if I win?” The effort made you cough. Stopping in your tracks, you doubled over hacking. You expected to see the worn stone of the Maze beneath your feet, but there was only sand. Knives scraped your throat. You tasted blood.

“You can have anything you want,” Minho responded. You lifted your head, hoping for a glimpse of his face and seeing only sand.

Tears filled your eyes. You wanted Minho with you, right now. You wanted to not be alone. You wanted to not be here, to not have made any of these choices, to not have to keep going and keep trying and keep surviving all because of one promise. You wanted to reach the doors -- no, not the Maze doors, never the Maze doors again, the doors to a crumbling building in a crumbling town in the sun-baked, sand-ridden, abandoned Scorch.

Straightening up, you started for the building again. You reached it in a few long, purposeful strides. The door hung half off its hinges. You slipped inside, shutting it as best you could behind you, hoping that would keep at least some sand out. The inside was blessedly dark. The front room seemed kind of like a cafeteria, with a few tables and chairs and a long counter at the back. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the last cafeteria you’d been in. You wanted to spit on this place as payback.

Instead, you walked behind the counter, sunk to your knees, shrugged off your backpack, and curled into a ball. Your head pounded. You squeezed your eyes closed, pressed your palms to your temples, tried to hold back any more tears. The memory of Minho floated to the front of your mind again.

“No need to cry,” you could hear him saying. You could almost feel him tuck a finger under your chin, like he’d done before, and raise your head. “I’m still here.” And then you opened your eyes, hoping to see that cocky grin that would make the whole world would seem a little better.

But Minho wasn’t there. You weren’t in the Glade anymore. You weren’t even with WICKED anymore. You were somewhere in the middle of the Scorch, alone and trying to survive and failing.

With trembling fingers, you unzipped your backpack and pulled out your last bottle of water. It was half-empty. You stared at it numbly. How far could half a bottle of water take you? When you used to run the Maze, a lifetime ago, you never went in without at least one canteen full. Minho had teased you during your first run for taking three. You wondered what he would say now.

“We’ll figure it out together. We’ll get out together.” That’s what he would say. That’s what he had said, right before you went into the Maze for the last time.

I tried, Minho. You wanted to scream it out to the Scorch, let every damn Crank within a hundred miles of you hear it. Maybe Minho would hear it too, back at the WICKED compound, back in the Glade. He said he would find you. You’d repeated his words so many times in your head that they were practically imprinted in your brain. They were like a touchstone, something you remembered for luck and courage.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said.

You’d never said it back. You wished you’d said it back.

You forced yourself to stop remembering and took a sip of water. It was like ice filtering through magma cracks, soothing, soothing, soothing, and then gone, evaporating and leaving behind seething bubbles of lava. You wanted more. You wanted so much more for yourself.

You twisted the cap back on and shoved your water into your bag before you did something you’d regret. Leaning against the counter, you let your eyes close. Fatigue made your limbs heavy, and the warm air settled over you like a blanket. You hoped the sun would be gone when you woke up. Then you would walk, as you had for countless nights, with no real directions in mind, only the understanding that you needed to keep moving or else you would die. Somewhere out there, there was a safe haven.

But in your dreams, there was darkness, and in the darkness, there were Grievers. The Maze walls, dripping with ivy, closed in around you as you ran. Your breaths came short and fast, more from fear than effort. You had no bag, no weapons, just the shoes on your feet and a little bit of hope in your chest. But the Grievers were closing in.

Mechanical limbs whirred, slamming against the Maze floor so forcefully the ground seemed to shake. You whipped your head around, caught a glimpse of them, turned back and ran faster, looked again and saw them even closer. Metal clanged together, the sound of razor-sharp fangs gnashing, slick with slime. A rush of wind sliced past your arm. You tried to move faster, just a little faster, just enough to keep narrowly avoiding the Griever’s claws, just enough, please, just enough to make it to sunrise--

A wave of fire burned a line across your back. The pain was white-hot, so bad you couldn’t keep your eyes open, you were stumbling and faltering and barely moving and the Griever was going to get you, only with your next step you felt nothing but open space and then you were falling and falling and falling.

You hit the ground so hard the air went out of you, and only then did you realize you’d been screaming. A moment of shock passed. Then you shrieked again. Your back burned with pain, but it wasn’t fire, not like you’d thought at first, it was a cut, huge and sprawling and parting the flesh of your back. Blood drenched your shirt. You screamed, blind with pain and fear, waiting for the Griever to finish you off or sting you and send you into a spiral of even greater misery.

Something grabbed your arms, hoisted you up, strapped you down. The Grievers have me, they’ve got me, they’re going to kill me, you thought, even as you felt human hands and heard human voices and saw human faces.

“No!” You caught a glimpse of one of them holding a syringe, a Griever in disguise. Twisting away, trying to avoid it, you let out a scream so loud you thought your vocal cords would be torn to shreds, just like your back, just like the ravaged mess that was left of your back. The needle pierced your skin.

Immediately, your yells dropped off. The people or the Grievers or the Grievers masquerading as people laid you face down on a stretcher. You couldn’t move your neck, or your arms, or your feet, but every step they took as they carried you sent bolts of lightning through your body. Your face was wet with tears, with blood. The jostling stopped. Every nerve in your body rebelled in pain, and then there was a cold hand on your cheek, forcing your chin up. Grinning down at you was the face of the devil.

You woke now with a start, a cool sheen of sweat coating your body, phantom pains chilling your back. Your heart thundered wildly. Acting on pure instinct, you shot to your feet, looking frantically around the room. She would be there, you were sure of it. The devil, with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, her lips painted red with the blood of her victims.

But the room was dark and empty and you were alone.

You untensed with a long, slow exhalation. Tiny daggers still ran up and down your spine, dancing along the scars the WICKED doctors had said they couldn’t fix.

“An unfortunate variable,” the devil had said about the Grievers, “but necessary.”

Necessary.

You spat on the floor, wishing it was her pristine white cafeteria, half-hoping you’d look up and see her standing there so you could strangle her. But that thought was fleeting and your head shot back up in fear, scanning the room again and again to reassure yourself that Dr. Paige was nowhere to be seen.

When you were sure there was no one lurking in the night-shadowed corners, you hefted your backpack onto your shoulders and made for the door. Outside, the desert air was chill and dry. The occasional wind stirred the sand as you walked, footsteps making quiet whispers along the dusty sidewalk. Moonlight paved the way forward.

Goosebumps covered your arms as you replayed your dream, your memories, over again. Yes, the Grievers had gotten you, but not the ones in the Maze. It was the hidden Grievers, the ones who said they were good, and that they were going to save the world, and that you were helping.

“Thank you for participating, Y/N,” Dr. Paige had said. “I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The data we gathered on the group’s response to a requested sacrifice will prove very useful, I assure you.” And she’d smiled at you. She’d actually smiled, pointy, predatory canines on full display behind her parted red lips. “The data from your response will also be very beneficial. Thank you once more for your participation.”

You were too shocked. You were in too much pain. The synapses in your brain weren’t firing correctly, still stuck trying to piece together that the sacrifice was some kind of test. An unfortunate variable. “What...what happens next?”

Dr. Paige had already left. Someone lower in the chain of command gave you a nonanswer about your role in Phase One being complete.

“But what happens in Phase Two?”

There was no answer to that question, no matter how many times you asked. You asked when you were stable enough to be moved to your own room, when you were compliant enough to walk the halls of the facility with a chaperone, when you were obedient enough to eat in the cafeteria among the staff members.

“WICKED is good,” they’d say. And then they would smile at you.

You shuffled through the sand. Reaching a hand, which you pretended wasn’t trembling, into the side pocket of your bag, you pulled out a meal replacement pouch with WICKED emblazoned on its side. Even as you ate, you worried. The dream loomed over you like a heavy cloud, and your food supply was dwindling. You wished for a sip of water, just a taste, a small trickle to wet your lips, something to help the powdery bar go down.

You wished you’d started hoarding food at WICKED earlier. It was only when you noticed that change was coming, that the air was electric and the people were alive, that you started to slip items from the cafeteria into your bag. The doctors had stopped ordering you in for blood tests and scans, which they had pretended were for your back, and then they stopped sending you a chaperone. It was almost like freedom.

“Code Green. I repeat, Code Green. All personnel begin preparations for Phase Two. I repeat…” The message came over the speakers while you were in your room, a barebones cell with a cot and a desk. In a flash, you were on your feet, pouncing on the opportunity. You slung your WICKED bag over your shoulders, ignoring the discomfort as it pressed into your bandaged back. Peering through the crack in your door, you couldn’t see anyone in the hall. The lights were flashing in time with the announcement, strobes of green slicing across the walls. Holding your breath in anticipation, you tried the door handle. Unlocked.

Heart fluttering, you pulled it open a crack and slipped through, shutting it gently behind you. No chaperone sitting outside. No guards patrolling. No people at all. You bolted down the hall.

Thinking about it now, as you finished your second to last meal replacement, the perishable food long since gone, you wondered why it was so easy.

Phase One. Phase Two. Thank you for your participation. An unfortunate variable. Unfortunate unfortunate unfortunate thank you for participating thank you for the data thank you for trying thank you for dying. Phase Two, I should have raided the cafeteria will you be in the cafeteria, Minho are you in the kitchen? Where are you where am I why is this happening what is--

Welcome to Phase Two.

You crumpled the meal replacement package in your hand and threw it into the air, letting it fly with the wind.

Minho’s voice was in your head. “I’ll raid the kitchen, the Med-jack Hut, bring us weapons.”

You shook your head and it faded. “I would have done it if you were there,” you said. Your voice was a croak. You cleared your throat and tried, “I would have…” The words floated away. I would have tried harder to survive.

“I tried so hard, Minho.” You thought of your bottle of water, only a few sips left. “I tried to wait for you in the Maze, but WICKED took me.” Grievers and white-clothed doctors and searing pain. “I tried to wait for you at WICKED, but...I think they let me escape.” An unlocked door, no patrolling guards. The vast expanse of the Scorch beyond, and a snippet of an overheard conversation about a safe haven at the end. “I tried to reach the end. But I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” Sand. So much sand. Lightning storms and a burning, vengeful sun, and a throat so dry it hurt. “I can’t do this anymore.”

And still, you walked. Because there was nothing else to do. Because you were a Runner and Runners never stopped. Because you thought this might be another test, another phase, and you wanted to reach the end. Because the mirage of Minho was nearby, talking.

“We’re almost there,” he said. You rubbed your sand-crusted eyes and tried to find him. “We have to keep going.”

Other voices chimed in, pitched low and hard to hear. You hoped you could hallucinate Newt, too, and maybe Zart and Frypan, who had tried to help, had tried, just like you tried. You moved faster, feet cleaving through drifts of sand.

“There it is!”

You missed the sound of an excited Minho. You remembered the first time he’d had a little too much to drink at a bonfire, and he’d picked you up and twirled you around. You’d never smiled so much.

The memory used to be good, then it turned painful, and now you were just numb.

You kept walking. Around you, the city was fading into sand. Ahead stood a tall dune. You wanted to stop and stare and convince yourself to turn around. But you kept walking. Behind the dune, you’d see Minho and Newt and Zart and Frypan and maybe even Alby, and maybe you would forgive Alby, or maybe not, but you would still see him because everyone would be there.

You boot punched a hole into the sand dune, sending streams of gritty yellow dust cascading down the slope. Stepping forward again, you sunk into sand up to your mid-calf. Again and again, and then you stumbled and fell in up to your elbows, and still, you crawled.

“We can do this,” Minho said, from somewhere above or behind or by your side. He was climbing with you, barely out of sight. His playful grin was audible.

“Bet I can beat you to the top,” you said before he could.

“What do I get if I win?” he asked.

You smiled and there were tears in your eyes and sand on your cheeks. “You can have anything you want.” And you climbed higher.

“I want you to say it back. Please say it back, Y/N. Please.” His voice was fading. You were leaving him behind as you neared the top.

Sand burrowed into the lines of your face, past the seams of your clothes, finding every nook and cranny of your body to hide in. It was in your mouth, your ears, your eyes. You struggled to breathe. Your head felt as light as a cloud. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally promised as you reached the empty crest. Still on hands and knees, you peered over the other side of the dune. The slope was empty. Everything was empty.

You rolled onto your back, eyes shut against the fading night sky. Your arm bumped against something stiff. Reaching a hand out blindly, groping for it, you came back with a stick. You looked at it through squinted eyes. Atop the stick was a flag, and on the flag in big, thick letters, the same font WICKED used for everything, were the words, “Safe Haven.”

You laughed. The bitter chuckle was alone in the Scorch. Overhead, the sky was lightening, and soon you would be alone in the daylight of the Scorch, alone in the Safe Haven.

Shrugging your backpack off, you reached inside for your water and the last of your food. The bottle was empty. You didn’t remember finishing it, but you figured you must have. You chucked it to the side, listening as it rolled down the sand dune. You wouldn’t need that anymore. The air grew warmer as dawn approached and you opened your last meal replacement. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear voices. You wondered if you were going crazy, decided you didn’t care because you had tried Minho I really tried I’m sorry please promise me I’ll see you tomorrow please don’t let it end like this please.

You took a bite of the crumbling meal replacement bar and immediately spit it back out. It had soaked up the last bit of moisture in your mouth. You tossed the package to the side, where you’d abandoned your water and your will.

The sky grew pink and orange and yellow, and, finally, there was the sun, high in the sky, and you had no idea how much time had passed while you stared, and you didn’t care. There was no further destination in mind. This was it. And with the sun up there and you down here, you hoped that maybe this wouldn’t count as dying alone.

“There it is!” Minho again. Funny how he kept saying that. And then the voices of the other Gladers chimed in again. You wondered if you would keep replaying that moment until you finally passed. You wondered how it would feel. You wondered if there was water on the other side.

The sand rushed down the sides of the dune in waterfalls. You could hear it, even if you didn’t have the energy to look. It sounded like a whisper. Beneath the whisper was the panting of a group of people.

Runners, you thought. All of the Runners before and all of the Runners after, coming to take me away. Would Minho be among them? Was he dead, like you and like those sad souls who’d been killed by the Grievers (An unfortunate variable, but necessary) and all of the people who’d gotten the Flare, which you barely understood because no one had answered any of your questions?

Why is this happening and where am I going and what do I do and how did I get here and when can I go home, please bring me home, I want to go home and I want to see Minho one last time because I never promised him back and I should have.

“Y/N?”

Minho. You didn’t have the energy to speak or even open your eyes to see the hallucination.

“Y/N!” Feet pounding against sand, then hands on your arms, looping around your back, pulling you close and shielding you from the sun. “Wake up, Y/N. Clint!”

No, Clint wasn’t supposed to be here. Clint had voted for you to be sent into the Maze. You were pretty sure you used to hate him for that, but hate took so much energy, and you just wanted to pretend Minho was holding you until you didn’t have to think anymore.

The people nearby talked unintelligibly, oscillating between murmurs and gleeful shouts. There was cotton in your ears and a blindfold over your eyes and strong hands on your back, propping you up. Then there was a splash of water on your face and the world opened up again.

There was Minho. Better than in your memories, because he was here, in full color, so perfect you needed to squint. He was on his knees and holding you. Above, Clint was pouring water over your head. All around you were Gladers.

“Minho?” you croaked, although there was no question who it was. Dark brown eyes, now filled with tears. Full lips curved up in a smile. Scatters of freckles across his cheeks. Minho.

Minho nodded and pulled you into a hug. “I thought…” he trailed off. Then he laughed, a sound so bright and so happy that the water on your skin felt a touch cooler, the sun on your shoulders a shade dimmer. “I should’ve known you’d survive.”

“There’s no safe haven,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

Minho shook his head, still buried in your neck. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Smiling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, coaxing him to look at you. When he did, you leaned in and finally felt at home.

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Author's Note: I wanted to put a longer, more serious note at the end instead of the beginning so I wouldn't deter any newcomers from reading. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for letting me try out this style! I'm not very happy with how this turned out but it was good practice. Hopefully, I can use this experience and write better pieces in the future. Thanks again for letting me experiment and for the encouragement. And my requests are always open :)

Tag List: @officialfictionalwreck @elizabeth-brown @newtsgirl-hehe @jjjmaybank @adoregin

286 notes · View notes

spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

Wouldn’t It Be Nice • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: maybe a blurb where the reader is dating Remus and one day, they randomly decide to miss classes and go on a date instead. maybe a walk, so it’s super simple but they talk about their life - their future and that makes it romantic. basically a fluff. lkshda I don’t know I just want him to hold my hand and kiss my forehead. Love your writing! — anon and hii, you asked for more remus requests and as a remus simp i just had to comply. i'd love to see more one shots that show both sides of remus: the softy, cuddly boy and the sassy, snarky comments king. so maybe have a moment where he's being cute with the reader and the immediate other they're sassing each other off and that's just how their relationship works :) — @moonysimpp

Summary: You skip a class and plan a wedding

Warnings: brief weed mention, skipping class, a little suggestiveness?, talks about marriage, no mention of Voldy/the war

Word Count: 1.4k

A.N: At first, I wasn’t going to combine these two requests...but I made Remus both snarky and soft so I thought why not? I hope that’s ok with the two of you, I feel like it just worked out well this way. As always, let me know what you think and love you all ❤️

Title: The Beach Boys - Wouldn’t it be Nice (I just got this vibe immediately after reading the request)

****

“Have I gone completely mental, or is the Remus John Lupin actually asking me to skive off History of Magic?”

Remus stands across from you, leaning his shoulder against a stone pillar, red and gold tie prim and proper, hands buried deep in the pockets of his slacks. His eyes lazily roll at your theatrical gasp.

“And in our N.E.W.T. year!” You continue, dramatically clutching your chest. “What a naughty boy you are, Lupin. Can’t believe Minnie ever made you a Prefect!”

He raises an eyebrow at you, the right one, with the white jagged scar cutting it in half like a bolt of lightning.

“Are you done yet, love?” He casually asks, amused by your antics.

“Am I done?” You repeat, shocked. “My bad influence of a boyfriend is trying to get me to play truant!”

He snorts at your claim knowing full well you and Sirius skipped Herbology yesterday to get high behind Hagrid’s hut. No one was a bad influence on you except yourself, and everybody knew it.

“C’mon, Lily’ll take notes for us.” Remus takes a hand out of his pocket and rubs the back of his neck. The very simple and casual action has your heart fluttering.

“Oh, yeah.” The red head beside you scoffs. “‘Lily’ll take notes for us.’” She mocks in a lower voice to imitate Remus’. “Y’know, as Head Girl, I should be taking points away from you, Remus.”

“That’s rich comin’ from you, Lily.” Remus chuckles, reluctantly dragging his body away from the wall and closer to the two of you. He brings his index finger to the bottom of his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Who was it again that let you off when you and James got caught in the Prefect’s bathroom—“

Your friend’s face gets drenched in deep red embarrassment. Her eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. “We agreed to never speak of that, Remus.” Lily’s voice is deadly serious as she interrupts his thought.

Everybody in the entire castle and their pets knew all about how Remus walked in on something happening between James and Lily in the Prefect’s bathroom in December, but nobody except the three of them knew the exact story. It was considered major drama in the castle and even after months, people are still whispering about it.

He smirks at her bright and flustered face before turning his triumphant gaze onto you.

“So, you joinin’ me, love?” Remus asks, his hand outstretched towards you.

You always had trouble saying no to Remus Lupin.

“Hm, spend time with my boyfriend or be put to sleep by Binns’ awful monotone lecture? What a hard choice.” You snark before immediately grabbing at his hand and interlacing your fingers.

“Thought so, love.” Remus cockily voices, still smirking.

Remus’ lips briefly connect to your hairline in a kiss before he starts pulling you outside.

You barely have enough time to call out a goodbye to your friend before you’re scampering to keep up with Remus and his extremely long legs.

The air is cool against your skin, when you first step out onto the grounds. It’s crisp and clear and it beats sticking around in the musty castle. Students with all different colored robes dart around you, trying to make it to their classes in time.

“So what do you have planned for us on this fine day, Rem?” You ask, sauntering down the green rolling hills, occasionally purposefully bumping into his shoulder.

“Ah, I don’t have anything planned exactly.” He admits, thumb stroking your hand as the two of you pass Hagrid’s hut. “Just wanted to be with you. And not go to class, of course.”

“Wanted to get me alone, hm?” You tease, swatting lightly at his shoulder.

You can practically hear his eyes roll around in his sockets, something he does frequently since he has to deal with both you and his four other best friends. You don’t think there’s been a day since first year when his eyes haven’t made their rounds.

“You’re positively obnoxious, y’know that?”

You’re stepping over the plants and underbrush making up the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, trying not to get your foot submerged in mud.

“Yeah, but you love me.” You tell him, trying to balance on a fallen tree branch.

“Eh...” Remus shrugs, watching you maneuver around a twisting vine.

You narrow your eyes and stick your tongue out at him as a response.

He takes you to the spot Kettleburn usually lets his Hippogriffs roam around between lessons, a large clearing with some boulders and tree stumps to sit on.

The Forbidden Forest is beautiful in the soft May sunlight.

The leaves are lush and green, alive with various creatures noisily chatting away with each other. You hear the faint trampling and pounding of hooves off in the distance. Sweet scents of spring flowers drift through the breeze, relaxing your tense muscles.

The Forbidden Forest is even more beautiful when you’re supposed to be listening to the ghostly form of Professor Binns drone on and on about the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 in a stuffy old classroom.

Your back leans up against the rough bark of the nearest tree. It digs into your back and probably dirties your robes but you find that you don’t mind at all.

Eyelids flutter shut and you inhale the cool air deeply to ease your mind. The rustle of leaves from the gentle breeze and the chirping of surrounding creatures fills you with a sense of comfort.

Slowly, you open your eyes to see Remus sitting on a large dark boulder, gazing at you intently.

“Do you think Dumbledore would let us get married here?” You ask dreamily, observing the pale yellow sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Even from this distance, you can tell Remus’ body goes rigid.

“M-married?” He sputters meekly. “Is this a proposal? Are you proposing to me right now?”

Remus jumps from his seat, robes billowing behind him as he anxiously strides towards your spot.

“Do you want it to be a proposal?” You cock your head to the side.

“No!” He shouts, eyes wide. “I mean—fuck!” Remus continues to sputter, ears glowing pink.

You laugh at his fluster. “Relax, Remus, I know what you meant.”

“Oh thank Godric.” Remus huffs out a laugh before pressing his own back to the tree next to yours. “Just give me a few years and I’ll buy you a ring, love.”

“Well now I’m just excited.” You giggle, admiring how he’s carefully turning his head to survey the clearing.

The pale jagged lines of his scars dully glimmer in the rays of sunshine that make their way through the treetops. It’s almost angelic.

“It would be nice to get married here, wouldn’t it?” You hear him murmur, more to himself, you suspect.

“Just how many wizards you reckon been married in the Forbidden Forest?” You chuckle. “Darling, I think we’re obligated to be the first.”

Remus shakes his head fondly at the notion. His head lulls back to face you, eyebrow raised.

“Oi, you don’t need to convince me. Dumbledore’s the one you ought to ask.”

“Ah, he’s a softy.” You wave away his thought. “We’ll be fine.”

Remus raises his arms like he was presenting the wild and untamed forest behind him. “I don’t know love, it is called the Forbidden Forest.”

You shrug. “Well maybe they’ll rename it.”

“Oh yeah? To what?” Remus snorts, running a hand through his sandy curls.

You smile, making a grand gesture with your arms. “The Forbidden Unless You’re Remus and (Y/n) Lupin Forest.”

“Y’know what?” Remus smirks, kicking off of the tree. “I like the name change.”

“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow as he ambled closer to your position.

“I particularly enjoy the (Y/n) Lupin part.” He places his hands on either side of your head, foreheads almost touching.

You hum in response, eyes gazing into his own honey brown ones. His eyes flick down to your lips before pressing his own to the top of your forehead.

Warmth spreads from where his lips connect with your skin, a smile instinctively growing across your face.

“Remus and (Y/n) Lupin.” He muses as he pulls away.

“Now that I think about it...” Your index finger taps against your lips in thought. “(Y/n) and Remus Lupin rolls off the tongue a bit better.”

“Whatever you say, love.” He happily sighs.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

Remus Lupin Taglist: @lunalovecroft

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #the marauders x reader

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narukoibito · 3 years

Note

“Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Am I Your Lockscreen?

Summary: Harry misplaces his phone.

AO3 | FF.net

Note: This took absolutely forever (months!), but here it finally is. Thanks for the ridiculous prompt Anon. This is complete, unadulterated fluff. It’s ridiculous, and I just can't. Haha, I hope you enjoy!

Harry was in the middle of stifling a yawn when he heard the rumbling downstairs.

Must be Fred and George, he thought, stretching his arms over his head. He let them fall back on the cot, with a content, food coma induced sigh. He was thinking about taking a little kip when Ron stirred on the bed beside him.

“Sounds like Ginny’s home early,” Ron grumbled.

“Ginny’s home?” Harry perked up, only to cough self-consciously at the strange look Ron gave him. Right, best mate’s little sister, he reminded himself. Except she was so much more than that. As if on cue, he heard the tinkling of her laughter below.

“Oh, I guess that’s nice,” Harry said casually, leaning back into the cot and pretending to go back to napping.

After a moment, Harry sneaked a peek. Ron had returned to fiddling with his phone. Texting Hermione probably.

Good save, Potter.

Unable to stop himself, Harry reached into his pocket to protectively touch his phone. Only to come back empty-handed.

His eyes popped open.

He straightened and immediately began to pat the blankets around him, his hands searching with a growing franticness.

“Mate?” Ron asked.

“Have you seen my phone?” Harry looked under his pillow and the sheets, on the verge of panic. He always, always kept his phone with him, especially —

“Er, no?” Ron sat up, confused. “Let me call you.”

Harry waited with bated breath as Ron dialed his number. He glared at the rumpled sheets pooled around him, willing them to start ringing.

Finally, there came his tell-tale ring! Only it was…

Shite. Shite, shite, shite!

It had been a moment of weakness. At her last football game, he had snapped a photo right when she’d made the winning shot. Then, like the idiot he was, couldn’t resist saving it as his lockscreen.

“Harry?” He heard Ron’s cry of surprise behind him as he moved, wrenching open the door. He bolted down the stairs, taking two, then three steps at a time, racing toward the ringing.

Just as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, Harry saw Ginny. Even in the midst of his panic, he couldn’t stop the way his stomach swooped at the sight of her standing there in her football training kit, with her long hair tumbling over her shoulders, her freckled skin that glowed, her pale fingers that he longed to hold.

And then, as if in slow motion, he watched as those very fingers reached toward the dining room table.

Fuck.

“Whose phone—?”

“Argh!” Without thinking, Harry launched himself into the air.

His fingers triumphantly curled over the phone.

Sweet relief coursed through him as an invisible audience cheered him in his head. Safe! He was safe!

Only of course his foot caught on something, and Harry went tumbling headfirst onto the floor. All those years of football training meant he automatically rolled, protecting his head, even as he crashed against the cupboards.

“Harry! Are you okay?”

He blinked away the spots in his eyes to see Ginny looking down at him, her brown eyes bright with concern. She leaned in, her face tantalizingly close.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he croaked, his face flooding with color and not only because he was upside down.

And he was fine, despite the spinning room, because Ginny was here, smiling down at him. The fluttering in his chest mixed with the squeeze of relief that she wasn’t looking down at him in disgust or, worse, pity at having uncovered his secret.

“I see you haven’t lost your flair for dramatics,” she said wryly.

“Constant vigilance,” Harry said, pleased when she laughed at the reference to that ridiculous counselor from that summer camp their parents had enrolled them in as teens. Counselor Moody used to do all sorts of mad things to scare them, like popping out of the bushes. Harry and Ginny used to catch each other’s eyes and laugh about it back when she was nothing more than his best mate’s little sister.

Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but wander from her face, only to flush and snap his eyes upward. She certainly wasn’t so little anymore.

“Let’s get you right-side up, and then maybe you can explain why you were pulling a Moody.”

His stomach curled into knots at her proximity as she helped him. He tried to think of something charming to say, which was hard when she was dusting him off and unintentionally sending goosebumps up his arm.

“I was testing your reflexes,” Harry blurted. “I’m still faster than you.”

“Oh, like that really counts when you suddenly shout and fling yourself at me.”

Why was it that the challenging look on Ginny’s face only made his heart skip a beat?

“Element of surprise.” He reached up to adjust his crooked glasses, something tickling in the back of his mind like he was forgetting something. Focusing was difficult with the intoxicating scent of flowers short-circuiting his brain.

“Well, for all your bluster…” With a mischievous glint in her eye, Ginny triumphantly raised his phone screen to his line of sight. “You still lose.”

Harry’s heart dropped to the floor. His eyes darted from the phone to her face and back again. He made a wild swipe for it, but Ginny was prepared.

“Whose call were you so eager to answer, hmm?” she taunted as she ducked into the family room.

“No, Ginny!” He followed her frantically, nearly knocking over a vase. “Come on, don’t—!”

“Not Cho, I hope?” She ran around the couch, strategically placing it between them. Her hand waved the phone tauntingly at him.

“No,” Harry said, slowly drawing nearer, adrenaline drumming in his ears. He frantically looked for an opening. “Cho and I aren’t a thing anymore.”

“Then it’s no problem if I check, is it?” Ginny turned the phone toward her, eyes slowing lowering — with his heart lodged in his throat, Harry lunged.

The two of them tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Harry groaned at the sting from where his head had connected with the floor. Somehow, in the chaos, he had managed to be on the bottom, which was good because Ginny hadn’t felt the brunt of the fall. But as the pain began to recede, he was suddenly very much aware of the soft curves pressing into him, her legs tangled up with his. She moved, wiggling enough to make him yelp.

Oh God, was this it? The only time he would ever get this close?

How pathetic could he get?

“Harry?”

He winced and waited for her to punch him and call him a pervert or something. When it didn’t come, he dared to open a tentative eye. Ginny had lifted herself up, hovering above him, her fiery red hair a curtain around them. Unable to stop himself, he stared up at her, bewitched by her freckles up close, the growing flush on her cheeks that reminded him of a sunset.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Am I your lockscreen?”

Harry swallowed hard, his chest twisting painfully. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Her lips quirked upward. “Planned on keeping it a secret for life?”

“Worth a shot,” he said dryly, even though his pulse was racing. She was smiling — could that possibly mean…?

“Yes, well. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, what are you going to do about it?” Her eyes flashed.

His traitorous hand reached up, lightly brushing her hair back. As his fingers skimmed her cheeks, she released an unsteady breath that whispered against his face. Ginny, his best mate’s little sister, his brilliant friend who could kick his arse, who made him laugh until his cheeks hurt.

“Ginny,” he said, barely able to think over the hammering in his heart, trying to form the words he had been reciting endlessly ever since she and Dean split up. “Will you be my lockscreen?”

Wait. Did he just…?

Mortification surged inside him. Where was a hole to bury himself in when he needed it? He would never be able to show his face around the Weasleys again — how was he going to explain that to Ron? He’d go abroad, Scotland maybe, explore castles or woods, anywhere really, just somewhere far, far away.

A peal of laughter tore him from his runaway thoughts. Ginny gave him such a bright smile, it was hard to look at her straight on. She was leaning closer, her eyes blazing. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Fair is fair,” he said, holding her gaze for what seemed like an impossible time, the tension between them making his chest want to burst, and then suddenly they were kissing.

He had imagined this moment many times in the past few months since his feelings had all but clobbered him over the head when he and Ron bumped into Ginny and Dean snogging under the bleachers. He’d replaced Dean with himself, imagined his hands around her waist, his lips fused with hers.

But this — this was so much better than anything he could have imagined. All conscious thoughts were obliterated by a warm sunshine that effused his every nerve.

“Harry,” Ginny breathed heavily when they finally broke apart. The smile she was giving him made him smile what was surely the soppiest smile in existence. “That was…”

“Lockscreen worthy?” he asked like an idiot.

She chuckled, her body shifting against him, turning that sunshine inside him to molten heat. “Might need to double check.”

“Happy to oblige,” he said, as she leaned down and kissed him again. He ached to be closer, his hand tangling into her soft hair, and she pressed closer as if also driven by the same reckless desire. He was so lost in her, he only barely registered the distant noise that was getting closer.

“Where’d you go, Har— oh my God!” Ron’s cry pierced through Harry’s hazy brain. “Get off my sister!”

Fear spiked through Harry. He looked up at his best mate (who was hopefully still his best mate), who looked as if he had been clubbed on the head.

“He can’t get off me, I’m on him!” Ginny replied unhelpfully.

“Oh then… Get off my best mate!”

Ron grabbed her ankles and started pulling her off of Harry, but Ginny, in a fit of rebelliousness, clung onto Harry harder.

Over their bickering about “bro code” and “we don’t need your permission” and “took you both long enough, but no snogging in the family room,” Harry let his head fall back with a thunk against the floor.

Nevermind – Scotland it was.

#i wrote a thing #fluff and humor #lol wth it's fluff #i didn't know what to do with myself with all this fluff #but have a sweet macaroon #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #Harry/Ginny #Hinny #anonymous #prompt #this took forever #but i do intend to get to all the prompts #one day #hope you still enjoy it after all this time #muggle au #but that should be obvious #they have phones lol

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bittermuire · 3 years

Text

I wrote another gwynriel one-shot because I’m obsessed with them

This one is based off of @inejjg‘s GORGEOUS headcanon about gwyn and az stargazing in the training ring. I mixed the order around a bit but it’s generally the same? Also it’s long. I’m sorry

Was that… ?

Oh, Mother above. Yes. Yes, it was.

Gwyn couldn’t quite place that little flurry of emotion in her chest as she saw the shadowsinger’s silhouette approaching the training ring. Excitement? Nervousness? The last time they’d been alone here together, they’d both been distracted—the ribbon rippling between them had been a lifesaver.

But now? She swallowed, realizing there was nothing to stop their eyes from meeting, their hands from touching…

Don’t be ridiculous, that cold voice told her, the one she’d carved into her heart since the day she came to the House of Wind. You barely know him.

The necklace flashed in her head.

From a friend, Clotho had said.

Who? Gwyn asked.

Amusement brushed from the priestess. Her pen scratched quietly. The shadowsinger.

And here he was now.

Something was wrong, she noted, as she watched him. Usually he would have taken immediate attention to her presence, but he was somewhere else, though he moved with his typical, beautiful grace.

She sat up from her blanket. His head snapped to her, eyes wide as he took in her little nest on the ground.

“Hi,” she said.

A little smile curved his lips. “Hello.”

“I’m stargazing.”

His eyes went soft.

Ah, yes, Gwyn remembered. Nesta had told her about Azriel’s love for astronomy, the way he filled the sleepless nights with wonder and starlight.

“Would you like to keep me company?”

He gave a little laugh at that, maybe surprised at her bold offer. Somehow, she saw the different thoughts flitting across his face, sure he’d courteously refuse and go to his own bed. But, to her own surprise, he crossed the training ring in smooth strides and sat down next her, a respectful distance away.

Silence stretched between them. Languidly, he stretched out his legs and laid on his back.

In a way that Gwyn could only call adorable, he let out a little sigh of contentment, scarred hands lifting to rest behind his head. When he caught her staring down at him, he quirked a brow.

“You can’t very well stargaze like that,” he teased.

She smiled, trying to hide the redness in her cheeks, and laid down next to him. This was intimate, she thought. And he was... different, somehow.

They were closer now, she realized, laying beside each other. Her pinky was an inch from his.

•

All Azriel could think of at that moment was that Gwyn was very, very close.

He attempted to distract himself with the glorious cosmos stretched out above him, but the female next to him seemed to him just as glorious, and he struggled to pull his attention from her.

She seemed to have an easier time of it, pointing a finger up to the Gilt Maiden.

“There’s the Maiden,” she said cheerfully, then gasped and moved her finger to the left. “And the Mother’s Ladle! Oh, wonderful! I usually can never spot it!”

He shifted his head to see her, to see her glowing face, her eyes so full of light—that radiant collection of features.

But, strangely… not like Elain. Gwyn was full of light in a way he couldn’t understand. It warmed his chest.

His shadows thought the same.

Beautiful, they murmured, curling shyly to the warmth within the curves of her palms, the hook of her ears, the line where her shining copper hair met her freckled skin.

Indeed, Azriel thought to himself. Beautiful.

Even more so as he watched her watch his shadows sift into her hair, drift across her stomach, both girl and shadow studying each other so casually and fondly—not a hint of fear, not a needle of apprehension. Curiosity, instead. Happiness.

He cleared his throat, ready to draw the shadows back. Or at least try. They were infatuated with her. “Do you really like them?”

The words slipped out, more earnest, more eager, than he’d intended.

She turned to look at him as well, and he was shocked again by her closeness. That random throw of stars across the bridge of her nose, on her cheeks, sprinkled liberally across her forehead. The crashing waves in her ocean eyes. The stray bristles of her brows, mere shades darker than her silky hair.

“I love them,” she said, voice hushed. “They’re beautiful.”

Despite himself, Azriel wondered if he was beginning to glow, too.

•

Hours passed, and Gwyn thanked the Mother for the lack of ribbon rippling between them. It was odd, really. She’d never felt such a strange connection with someone. It was easy with him. Every word he said made her want to hear another. Silence had been her friend for so long; now, she’d gladly settle for nights like this.

All kinds of topics had come up. He’d told her about the little balcony he had off his room and the strange instrument he used to see the night sky. She’d told him about Merrill and her many theories, and they’d talked about that for a while—trading and throwing around ideas about the universe, if it was as small as they thought, or if it stretched beyond their maps; if it was the universe or a universe, and then all Gwyn could think was, I’m perfectly content in this one if you’re in it with me.

“Mother above, Gwyn,” she muttered to herself, and Azriel quickly turned to look at her. “Sorry,” she said, giggling a bit. “Just talking to myself.”

Then, in some magical act, the skies shifted again. Azriel pointed up. “There’s Jekob the Wanderer. And his staff.”

Gwyn squinted. “No, that’s Truwa the Fifth.”

“No, Truwa’s over there.”

“No, Jekob’s over there. Truwa’s next to the Crab. See?”

He shook his head and laughed—a blunt, dry sound. Gwyn was struck by the sweetness of it. “You’re so wrong,” he said, voice brimming with mirth.

She couldn’t help smiling. “Am not.”

“Gwyn! Do I need to go get my book?” He shifted to his side, a grin on his face.

Her breath caught.

Beautiful.

“No!” she exclaimed, laughing. “There’s no need, because I’m right!”

“Right,” he scoffed, still smiling that brilliant smile.

What do I do with you?

A shadow curled around her pinky. Another caressed her temple.

•

The shadowsinger didn’t remember when they fell asleep. But when his eyes cracked open, he was… warm. He never woke up warm, even when entangled with a lover.

With a start, he realized Gwyn was curled into his side, fingers of her right hand intertwined with his. Even in sleep she held his hand tight to her chest. He felt the soft beating of her heart, and he wondered, then, how he’d ever looked past her before.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching up a hand, careful not to jostle her, and brushed back a strand of her hair from her sleep-softened face. He gently squeezed her hand, peering at that freckled face, full of stars—for so long, his only friends.

When he was just a boy, locked in that house, he used to pray to the Mother to send him a star.

She’d sent him hundreds.

Gwyn.

#i'm sorry it's so long #it just... kept going?#this is such a cute idea tho #gwynriel

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r0tten-brainz · 3 years

Text

hey do you want my carrie fix it au? no?

too bad!!!

Everything seemed to stop when the blood was dumped on Carrie. All the cheers and applause was cut off by shocked gasps and silence. Wide eyes stared upon the stage at their prom queen, now drenched in red sludge, her beautiful dress ruined.

Tommy Ross, the prom king, was staring at his date, some of the liquid (blood, literal blood, he realizes in horror) splashing all over his rental tuxedo. After the initial shock, anger bubbled in his chest so quickly his ears turned red and he turned to the crowd, searching for who could’ve done something so awful, his shouts of “What the hell?!” cutting through the quiet.

In the front row, George Dawson seemed to have the same reaction, he always was quick to anger but now he had a fair reason to. He was disgusted someone would do this, and almost everyone around him agreed. Almost.

It only took a minute for Norma to snort, and double over to quiet her laughter. A few others chuckled but otherwise they were alone in finding this funny.

The only one who hadn’t moved was Carrie. She was frozen, mouth agape and eyes wide. She only moved when the bucket itself came crashing down, right onto Tommy. She tried to catch him but he just collapsed onto the stage, groaning in pain.

People knew immediately something was off when she stood up straight, shoulders back and arms extending out at her sides. The ones who were laughing decided they wanted to leave, the pungent smell of the stale blood getting gross and killing their good time.

There were a few shouts of confusion and fear when the doors suddenly slammed shut and the room was flooded in red light. When one of the jocks tried to open it, he yelled in pain, like the door handle burned him.

That’s what made Tommy stir on the ground, his head aching and warmth trailing down his face. When he looked up the gym was in chaos, people screaming and trampling each other to find a way out. One guy, someone Tommy knew, had climbed up to try the window, but he was flung off like a bug. A squeaking noise made him look up and the fire sprinklers flipped on.

Murky water fell over everyone, only adding to the rotten smell permeating what with the blood also having its own stench. Tommy’s breath caught as he looked around, his eyes finally landing on Carrie.

She seemed unresponsive, barely even blinking as the chaos unfolded around her, like she was in the middle, stirring up the misfortune herself.

“Carrie- huff,” Tommy started, pulling himself up off the ground. His head spun and he nearly got sick with everything mixing around him, his stomach was never the strongest. “Carrie, we have to get you out of here.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even look at him, just tilted her chin up indignantly. The lights above them suddenly sparked, clearly not mixing well with the water. That frightened Tommy a lot, they could all die, and it seemed that’s probably what Carrie was aiming for.

“Carrie!” Tommy tried again, grabbing onto her shoulders. His breath was getting more frantic as he looked around behind him. “Carrie, listen to me. Look at me, Carrie.”

She blinked then, eyes focusing on the boy in front of her. She looked like she was on the brink of tears. When she noticed the blood flowing down his face it only made her feel worse.

“Is this why?” Her voice was quiet, if Tommy had been any further away he wouldn’t have been able to hear. “Is this why you asked me to go with you?”

A devastated look crossed over Carrie’s face. “So you could laugh at me?” Tommy gulped, really starting to feel sick now, realizing that in some sick way this was partially his fault. “She was right, I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t have-”

“No! Carrie, if I knew it wouldn’t have happened! I didn’t know- I swear whoever did this is dead.” He shouted, his grip on her shoulders tightening. “Please, you need to calm down. Just breathe, we can get you out of here.”

Flames caught his eye, the curtain behind them was on fire. They needed to go, now. Carrie sniffled, the tears finally falling. “They all laughed at me, they laughed…”

Tommy looked back at the crowd then back to Carrie. “No one laughed, no one did Carrie.” She let out a breath like she’d been holding it. The heat from the fire was getting unbearable.

“Do you swear?” Carrie whispered, looking up at him. She was in agony, he could see it clear on her face.

“Carrie, I swear.” Tommy holds out his arms for her, finally stepping back to lead her away from the gym. He could hear sirens approaching.

Carrie looked out a final time before the doors swung open and the students flooded out. The air was cool which was relieving to everyone. She took his hands then, and he led her off the stage out to the cool evening air.

Sue Snell pushed her way through everyone, Frank Green (notoriously known as the Beak) and George at her side, searching through the scared faces for Tommy and Carrie. “There they are!” She shouts, grabbing her friends and making their way over to the pair.

Tommy perked up at the sound of Sue’s voice, carefully leading Carrie to the grass so they could sit. Further away from everyone. Sue ran over and pulled Tommy down into a hug. Beak and George made their way over a second after, clearly left behind in the madness behind them.

Whispers were exchanged between the group, everyone sparing sympathetic glances to Carrie every once in a while. Carrie just sunk in on herself, Trying to calm herself down enough so she could walk home, figuring she messed up their night enough.

It surprised her all when they all sat around her, Tommy to her left and Sue on the other side. Beak and George settled across from them.

They didn’t talk, no one really knew what to say. It was Carrie who broke the silence. “I ruined your plans with your friends, didn’t I?”

Tommy just shook his head as he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “No,” he assured her. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, actually.”

Carrie blinked up at him, tears threatening to fall again but she willed them away and sank into the coat. If it was salvageable before, it’s definitely ruined now. Tommy wondered if the rental place had it in their hearts to cut them some slack.

“Carrie I- we- are so sorry,” Sue spoke up, reaching to hold her hand. “I tried to stop it, if I knew they were planning something I wouldn’t have asked, that was so cruel.” She whispered the end of her apology, like she couldn’t believe it had happened.

Carrie ducks her head. “I shouldn’t have come,” she says back. “Mama was right I shouldn’t have.” The group share worried glances, but they’ll unpack that later.

George sneers. “Don’t you think like that, it was fun at the beginning right?” Carrie glances up to him and nods. “Right! Don’t you worry, whoever did this will pay.” Frank nods along beside him, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. “So inspiring.” Beak always did like to make a joke, to lighten the mood when things were heavy.

Tommy’s arm tucks around her, pulling Carrie closer to comfort her. “Even if it all ended bad, we’re all together, right?” He looked down to her, waiting for the response. Even now he’s pushing her gently, to get her out there. Maybe this is Tommy’s super power. She had telekinesis and he was good at making anyone comfortable, even Carrie White.

“Right,” she finished for him, which made Tommy smile. In return it made Carrie smile. Sue reached and brushed some bloody hair out of Carrie’s face.

“Wow, Sue,” Beak starts. “Before too long Carrie might steal Tommy from you curled up to him like that. Sue laughed and Carrie smiled, cheeks flushing red under the caked up blood.

Tommy grinned and shot him a look. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you beat her to it and steal me yourself, smart guy?”

Beak opened his mouth but was quickly cut off by George. “Oi! Don’t be comin’ onto my man y’ hear?” He shot back, elbowing Frank with a grin.

Tommy felt Carrie’s shoulders bouncing, but when he looked to her to see if she was crying, a small grin graced her face and quiet giggles bubbled up. Despite it all she was laughing. It made something twist in Tommy’s chest, he had to make himself look away.

“It isn’t much,” Sue starts. “But if you all wanted to stop by my house to get cleaned up, maybe we could still go to the Hive.” Carrie perks up, of course Sue was invited, why wouldn’t she be?

George whooped excitedly. “You’re a lifesaver, Susan, I really need a shake after all this.” Everyone cheered in agreement.

“Carrie?” Tommy said quietly. She looked up to him, still smiling a little. “Would that be okay?” He was so patient with her.

Commotion caught her attention though and she looked past Tommy towards the gym. The flames had been dealt with it’d seem, but that’s not what she’s looking at.

Two police officers were taking Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan out of the school, Chris kicking and shouting the whole way to the car. Miss Collins watched them go, nothing but anger in her eyes. It only made Carrie’s smile widen. She hoped she’d never have to see Chris ever again after this.

“Yes,” she finally replied. “That seems fun.” Tommy grinned and stood, offering his hands to Carrie first to help her stand, then to Sue. “No help for me?” Frank joked. “Shut up, Beak,” Tommy joked back.

The rest of the night was filled with similar jokes, everything being kept lighthearted (lucky for Carrie, she may fall apart if anything else bad happened). The Hive was so much better than she imagined. They had delicious waffle fries, and soda flavors she didn’t know existed, she and Sue even shared an ice cream. Everything was perfect. She prayed to God that come Monday morning she wouldn’t be forgotten by Tommy Ross, or any of them.

#carrie 1976 #carrie white #tommy ross #sue snell #george dawson #frank green #the beak #fic #au #fix it fic

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 5

Throw a punch

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n finally beats Bucky, he has a surprise for her when she returns from her first mission.

Warnings: smut, violence, mention of death/murder

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

3 years. 3 godforsaken, bloody torturous years. That's how long I'd been in this hell hole. How long I'd been repeatedly beaten up by my only form of solace daily. How long I'd been whipped for simply not being good enough to beat a super soldier. How long I'd endured endless torture. And today, today is the day that it will all end.

If there was one thing the last three years taught me, is that I should duck and run rather than throw a punch. At least that's what I thought, and I'd never really been willing to risk a broken jaw to prove my theory. That is, until today.

Come on, y/n, you can do this. The words were repeated in my mind, my own mantra, in order to psych myself up for what I was about to do. There was a fire grip on my arm - arguably much tighter than necessary - as the guards dragged my down the hollow hall to my training session with the Winter Soldier. Pft, more like two hours of humiliation and a sore ass, I though, a little smirk spreading on my lips at my own joke.

"What're you laughing about? Something funny, Stark?" The guard who had the grip on my arm spat through gritted teeth and the smirk was instantly ripped from my lips, instead reverting back to the hard expression I had been trying to maintain while around anyone who worked for HYDRA.

So basically everyone.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, like normal, and the guard roughly shoved my into the room by a hand between my shoulder blades, like normal. But today wasn't like normal - no, today was the day I was the one to throw a punch.

They removed the silencer from my head and let me take a gulp of water before The General was barking the order for us to begin.

I walked into the centre of the room, shoulders back and stare cold. The soldier's gaze matched mine as his cerulean eyes bore into my own, his jaw clenched and hands already curling into fists as I stood before him. We maintained the stare for a moment - almost as if the other was waiting for the other to make the first move, an open opportunity to take the win.

And so I did.

Using the speed I'd worked up to over time, I farted towards the soldier, ducking on a seconds notice as his metal fist flew out. I landed a jab to his stomach, one hard enough to make him cough slightly with the knocked up air but far from hard enough to actually make him stumble. Distracted, he barely noticed me as I slipped under him - through his legs out by his back, which I was quick to jump on. I let my legs wrap around his muscular waist and my left arm wrap around his throat, making the soldier grit his teeth and attempt to pry my arm away from his neck as he began to choke.

When he attempted to fling my forward, I tangled my right fist into his brown locks, yanking painfully and making the soldier cry out as I lowered my lips to his ear. Another thing I'd learnt in the past three years is that the soldier was only affected by my powers under two conditions:

One, he was off-guard or vulnerable - hence the choking - and two, I was as close to him as I could possibly get.

I began to him a soft tune - one I had discovered was most effective in lowering my opponent's defence and lulling them into a false sense of security. I practically smirked irksomely when I sensed his eyes rolling back in defeat and his assault on my arm falter - body falling limp and relaxed under the quell of my voice.

When I was sure I'd lowered his defences enough, I slowly climbed down from his back and admired my handy-work.

The Winter Soldier, stood dopey and barely lucid before me, without so much as the energy to even move his arm, let alone land a heavy punch like he normally would. I took my chance, the man nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones as my leg swept through his, bringing the soldier down the the ground with a loud noise that resembled a mixture of a crash and a thud.

Of course, the impact made my tune immediately ware-off and the soldier was now fully lucid, but I could barely contain myself as I punched my fists into the air triumphantly and a grin curled across my lips.

A lonely applause filled the tall room, bringing me back to earth as I realised the situation. Footsteps angled towards me, slow and calculated as the claps slowed to a stop, The General standing before me with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well done, Miss Stark." He congratulated, looking around him and outstretching his arms. "It only took you, what? Three years?" He mocked, the taunting laughter of the guards making me feel nauseous. But I kept my composure, returning his mocking, tight-lipped smile that didn't even dare go near my eyes - which were alright with anger. "And now your training is complete. We shall have to teach you how to use a gun, I suppose?" He said lazily. I clenched my jaw.

"I knew how to use a gun perfectly fine, General." I gritted and his eyes brows shot up as he turned to face his comrades.

"Did you hear that, gentlemen? Looks like she doesn't need another three years to learn to fire a gun? My, my, haven't we lucked out with this one?" He mocked cruelly, coming back to face my burning eyes. He smirked, grabbing my chin between his thumb and his finger and angling my head up to meat his eyes. "Take her away, and get her ready for her first mission." He demanded, eyes churning with something that resembled pride, but darker. He kept his eyes on me as he spoke, before roughly jerking my chin away and letting the guards refasten the silencer over my mouth before they were grabbing and arm each and dragging me from the training room.

The pulled me back down the hollow hall - passing my usual cell.

"W-where are we going?" I asked, swallowing heavily as they halted to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door and we shoving me inside. There was nothing gentle about the HYDRA guards, not that I ever expected there to be.

Once I was in one of them tugged the door shut, the other throwing a bundle of clothes at me, which I fought as the flew at my chest. I opened the ball of fabric out, finding a skin-tight leather tactile suit - red HYDRA symbol embellished on either arm and over my heart - along with underwear and some black tactile boots.

The men stared at me expectantly, eyeing me up and down by never making the move to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to give me privacy to change?" I asked sheepishly. As humiliating it had been to be whipped for three years the sight toppled in front of these men, the idea of willingly getting changed while they were stood staring at me like I was a piece of meat made bile ride in my throat.

"I highly suggest you get to it, unless you'd like us to help out, of course." One of the guards said with a sickening expression, making me grimace and begin to tug my shirt over my head.

"And how about you do it...slowly, if you don't mind, Miss Stark." The other remarked, arms crossed over his chest as he bit his lip and glued his eyes intensely on my body.

I gulped, continuing to pull the shirt over my head. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day.

…

Blood and soot cakes my nails, the icky feeling of the grime a haunting reminder of what I had just done. I was in the shower room, scrubbing the mud and blood from my body as quickly and efficiently as I could. I was used to cleaning my own blood from my skin, but the feeling of someone else’s just made me want to-

I shivered, hands shaking the the brush tumbling out of my grasp and clattering to the floor. I braced a hand on the wall, letting my head hang forward as I took a deep breath, before looking back up and wincing as the cold water streamed over me.

No hot showers at HYDRA. I hadn’t felt the feeling of warm water rush over me since the last time I had a long bubble bath back home...

I shook the thought off, carding my fingers through my hair and attempting to pick the dirt and gravel out of it. My breath was ragged as I felt a hot steam of air on my neck, the faint tickle of fingers brushing over my hips and up my body until two large hands - one flesh, one metal - caged my head to the tiled wall.

“Soldier...” I moaned breathily, letting my eyes slip shut at the feeling of his hot breath hitting the back of my neck. It was an intoxicating feeling, really, especially after being void of affectionate human contact for so many years. The soldier buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply before bringing his lips to my eye.

“I can’t stay away from you.” He murmured, flesh hand coming down to grab a handful of my ass roughly before letting go. I almost whined at the loss of contact before I felt a harsh spank against my right ass cheek. What surprised me the most was the expected cry of pain did not escape me, but rather a moan of pleasure.

I could feel the soldier’s smirk against my skin at my reaction, my eyes still shut as his hand trailed over my hip once again, before slipping down my front and running a finger through my wet folds. I jerked away as his fingertip brushed over my sensitive nub, pressing my lips together to surpress a needy groan at his low chuckle, the sound going straight to my core and causing a pang of arousal to dance through me.

“Ever been touched here before?” He husked in my ear and o shook my head, almost in embarrassment. “No?” He checked and I shook my head again. “I’ll try to be gentle.” He muttered, but before I could protest his cold with gliding through my folds, now coated in my wetness and slowly sheathing itself inside of me.

A raspy moan tore from my throat, the soldier groaning behind me as his hand moved to my hip in a vice-like grip. His cock stretched me beyond my limits, and to say it was painful was an understatement. After a moment of keeping his cock fully seated within me, the soldier pulled his hips back slowly before slamming back roughly. A burn formed in my cunt and I let out another moan, dropping my head forward to to cool shower wall when he thrusted into me again.

After a few more thrusts the pain started to dissipate, instead turning into a delicious and pleasurable burn that sent tingles through me. When one of my hands reached backwards to grip onto the soldier’s thigh, he took it as a signal to speed up snapping his hips into mine until the only thing that could be heard were our skin slapping together, my breathy and broken moans and the soldier’s frankly feral and animalistic growls and groans in my ear.

A sharp gasp crawled up my throat when his hand transferred from my hip down to my core, two fingers flicking at my bungle of nerves. I could feel every vein, every ridge, every part of him as I clamped down around him, throwing my head back to rest of his shoulder as his pace somehow increased again - fingers drawing tight and fast circles on my clit in time with his thrusts.

My knees buckled as I came with a shout, falling back into him as my legs gave up on me. He let out a growl as his thrusts faltered, a few more strokes and he was shooting his load deep into me. I winced as he pulled out, falling forwards into the wall as I tried to catch my breath - breathing laboured.

As I turned to face the soldier, maybe pull him into a kiss, he disappeared. It was like he had gone into thin air. The only trace of him left was his cum dripping down my thighs, tickling my skin.

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skellebonez · 3 years

Note

You asked for more Macaque and Mei, and I shall request more! Possibly from my Parents and Kiddos au with 7 and 36? And you get to decide if this is before or after Macaque decide that this kid is his kid

Yeah so... remember how I told you to remember a very specific piece of art for this au you drew? It gave me a bit of an idea that probably does not fit in the timeline of how Mac took Mei in, but this is my personal take on how he could have decided he couldn't just leave her because he cared too much now.

Warning: short scene of a young child being reminded of a traumatic event unintentionally and by accident, it is very vague while the child is in no danger and quickly helped, but it should be warned for.

Stop acting like a child!/Did you honestly think that was going to impress me?

"Oh... Please, small human, for 3 more minutes stop acting like a child!" The person sitting across from Macaque at the table muttered out, pulled out of trying to focus on their conversation by the small human in the room jumping on the bed. Macaque had half a mind to kick them out then and there, had he not needed the payment they were discussing to afford the room for another night.

"I am a child!" Mei responded quickly, tone terse and tight and more frustrated than a child her age should have to sound like. But Macaque couldn't blame her, stuck in the hotel room and having to listen to two adults (who she did not realize were demons discussing... business in vague terms) with little to no entertainment thanks to the TV being off for this meeting. "Maybe if you did more of your magic tricks I'd be less bored!"

"A-ah... right... my apologies," The person said quickly, sighing as they realized their mistake. While they sat with the appearance of a slightly elder woman in a black and white suit with brilliant red eyeliner to Mei, Macaque could see them for their true appearance through the glamor if he tried. Her disguise would have been a futile effort had Mei not believe the wind based magic she used earlier in their meeting to be a human magic trick and the woman a magician. The crane demon turned back to Macaque, a seemingly genuine apologetic smile on her face as she lowered her voice as much as possible. "I forget small humans are always still children."

"As long as everything is cleared," Macaque replied, watching from the corner of his eye with a smile as Mei curled into a ball and bounced one last time with a laugh before grabbing a book he had... "purchased" for her and sprawling out on the bed to read it. He hated to admit it, but the kid had grown on him. Just a bit.

"Oh yes!" The demon woman said with wide smile, pulling a card from her suit coat pocket. "Here, all the money has been loaded onto here. My brother insisted on a more substantial sum, given the job, so there are more yuan on there than you expect." Generosity for what he did was not exactly commonplace, so more than likely it was a bribe. "Keep your trap shut, Macaque" or "please don't come back and kill us" most likely. Not that he would go out of his way to do the later. Not now. The demon cleared her throat, holding out her hand. "The... you know?"

Macaque did know, pulling out a tiny scroll from a nearby bag to hand to her. It was simple, some kind of spell that could be used against her family specifically, and he watched as she looked at it with disgust.

"You have no idea the trouble you have saved my family, Six-Eared Macaque," she said, pulling out and adhering a sticker of some kind to the scroll. He'd never seen something like it before, but he wished he had taken a second to ask what she had been doing when the scroll immediately burst into flames that were held in place by her wind magic.

The effect was instantaneous. The scroll was engulfed in flame, disappearing and out in seconda. Macaque shot up to his feet. And despite his hopes she had actually been paying attention to her book enough to be distracted, Mei screamed.

He had to rush quickly to stop her running into the table to get to him, tears streaming down the young girl's face as she wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and torso immediately. She screamed and wailed into his neck, muttering "no"s into the fur that had sprouted up as his glamor fell away. She was too afraid to notice.

"Wh-what!?" The crane demon shot to her feet, worry and confusion on her face as she went to take a step forward only to be met with a deep grown and bared teeth from the monkey demon. "I-I just wanted to show you what I had designed! Is she-?"

"Come anywhere near her and I'll gouge your eyes out!" Macaque hissed in fury, raising a clawed hand to the back of Mei's head in the hopes to comfort her. He'd seen this happen before and he knew that she was not listening to him. "Did you honestly think that was going to impress me? Get out. I don't want to see your face anywhere near here for the next few days. If I do you'll have a worse fate than that scroll."

The crane demon stood up straight, face falling into a grimmace. "Y-yes, Six-Eared Macaque..." she turned, making her way to the door before pausing and looking at Mei with a frown. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry. Had I known that would frighten the child I would have waited."

He simply growled at her, ears flared and teeth bared at her until she left and he heard the clicking of the door locking behind her. He waited, listening to her footsteps rushing down the hotel hallway before he sighed shakily and backed up to sit on the bed with Mei still curled around him.

He made a mental note then and there to not only find out what those stickers were (which meant talking to the crane demon again, he did not look forward to that), but to also never allow Mei to be in the room during negotiations with demons again. Even telling them not to use fire around her was too much of a risk. Too much...

As Mei's crying softened against his neck, Macaque sighed and gently rubbed her back and muttered to her that it would be alright. There was no flame. The fire was gone. She was safe. He purred softly, the rumbles hopefully doing something to ease her fear.

It had been an inevitably that Mei would have an aversion to fire, Macaque had known this in the back of his mind the moment he saved her. Regardless of how much or little of the house fire that had taken her parents from her, the one he had rescued her from, she remembered or actually saw. Perhaps, in time, she would be less afraid. Maybe not afraid at all, given the right help in the future. But for now all flames larger than a lighter or kitchen stove horrified the young girl, making her scream and try to escape as quickly as possible. Escape to him so he could save her again.

"Are you going to leave me behind again?" Mei asked quietly as her tears slowed after a long while of crying her heart out, hiccuping softly. Macaque quickly put his glamor back up and ceased the now almost imperceptible demon purrs, not wanting her to learn of his demon form as she finally pulled back from the koala tight grip she had on him. "Please don't leave me behind this time..."

Macaque felt like a knife had been driven into his chest. When he had first saved Mei from the fire he was certain that he would just find someone to shove her at and be done with his good deed. But Mei kept coming back, not wanting to leave his side. He supposed at the time it was understandable, given what had happened, and after a time he had stopped trying to leave her behind the way he had been. He hadn't quite taken her in proper but he let her stay by his side, for the moment. And over time she'd grown on him. Now...

"I'm not going to do that," he said softly, ruffling her hair with a frown as he pulled her into another hug. "Not like that."

"What?" The young girl looked up at him as if she hadn't expected him to agree. "You mean... you're really gonna stay?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, looking away as more tears continued to fall from her eyes. He wasn't used to this, had never actually wanted kids... at least... he thought he had never wanted kids. "I'll stay with you, happy now?"

He made his tone light, joking almost though his words were truthful. He'd learned over his short time taking care of Mei that she was smart and could pick up on sarcasm and jokes quickly. And she seemed to pick up on the light tone of his voice quickly.

"Really?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah yeah, but you gotta stop the water works kid," he said with a smile, turning back to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes with his shirt sleeve. "Or you're gonna run out of tears and shrivel up like a raisin."

"No I won't," Mei countered with all the assurance of a doctor telling a patient they would live, a chuckle escaping her as she wrapped her arms around his neck in another hug. "... thank you..."

Macaque almost told her not to thank him for doing what he should have probably done a long time ago. But instead he held her close, tucking her head under his chin as he tried to hold back the comforting purrs that threatened to raise up again and reveal himself.

He made another set of mental notes as she quickly fell asleep against him and he tucked her into bed before sitting up beside her with a book of his own (thankful he could see well enough in the dark) to distract his racing mind. He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, really stay and not just cheap hotel rooms to hop from. He needed to find someone who could help her with what had happened, no more beating around the bush she needed more help than he could give. He needed to take precautions to make sure she would be safe, just in case given who he was.

Everything else... well. He was never too old to learn how to do new things for his... daughter. Yeah. His daughter sounded right he supposed. He'd be able to play it by ear.

He had 6 of them after all.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #parents and kiddos au #six eared macaque #dad macaque #mei #long xiaojiao #mei is almost certainly going to have a therapist after this #also just a note i am pretty sure mei is around 5-6ish here just in case you're curious

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lovesanmotion · 3 years

Text

Answer - Jeong Yunho

summary: in which gumiho!reader / ninetailedfox!reader gets caught stealing persimmons by prince!yunho, however, one interaction between them spiraled more than what they have thought of

wc: 3k (this is my first time writing in the fantasy department and this is something that i somewhat have been passionate about! i really enjoyed writing this one and this one has become my favorite!!)

When Yunho was a young boy, his grandfather would take him to stroll around the palace gardens accompanied by Yunho's gaksimi's (housemaids), gungnyeo's (palace women) and his grandfather's uinyeo (female physician). It was always a lovely sight to see the former king bond with the next heir to the throne, watching them feed the fishes with bread or picking flowers together. One summer day, under the basking rays of the sun, the former king and Yunho took refuge under the pavilion of Changgyeonggung, the housemaids scattered quickly back to the kitchen to bring them snacks and refreshments.

"My Lord, the heat will not be good for your condition. May I suggest that we head back?" The female physician spoke kindly, bowing her head a little, but the former king smiled back to her and waved his hand dismissively.

"It would be such a waste not to enjoy this fine day." He spoke in a low, raspy tone due to his old age. "I would, rather spend my last days, with the future king with me." The female physician's lips curled into a tight smile and bowed her head. She knew better not to displease him and his grandson.

As the housemaid's came back with the food, five year old Yunho quickly sat on his knees and ate the flower shaped rice cakes. The former king, his grandfather, softly chuckled at Yunho before picking up the white tea pot.

"What an intricate design! This one" The former king spoke, holding up the tea pot a little higher that Yunho had to crane his neck up.

"Grandpa! I can't see it!" Yunho whined with the rice cakes in his mouth. He stood up and sat beside his grandfather. The tea pot had a painting of a white fox with nine tails.

"Creatures like this one truly exists" His grandfather pointed at the painting of the nine tailed fox before leaning close to Yunho's ear. "They think I'm crazy for believing creatures like this one, but I think they're crazy not believing that they really do exist!" Yunho chuckled at his grandfather's words. If his grandfather believes in them, so will he.

"I remember seeing one when I was boy" his grandfather recalled, pouring rice wine onto his cup. "I saw a white fox too! In the forest of Goryeo. What a beauty that white fox is." Yunho looked up and watched his grandfather smile to himself and bring the cup to his lips. "They say that they live for a long period of time. And can take form of any human they please to be. Feared by many, but I believe that it is the abuse of humans that drives them away"

"What do they eat, grandfather? Do they like rice cake too?" Yunho's asked, the innocence in him made his grandfather chuckle.

"They say they eat the heart or the liver of their prey, usually men" a chill ran down Yunho's small body. "But the white fox I saw, I cautiously approached with a persimmon in my hand. The white fox ate it!"

And just like that afternoon, Yunho and the former king, his grandfather, spent their afternoon talking about his grandfather's stories about that white fox he saw years back before they were called back by the palace guards to prepare for the Yudu festival happening tonight.

Fast forward to fourteen years later, his grandfather's sudden passing broke the hearts of many, including Yunho's. He was the only family member who loves him dearly. Yunho's father, the current king, was always busy with the scribes or out hunting with a few palace guards. His mother was a different story, Yunho's mother, the empress, loves to gossip with the sanggung's (palace matron) and nain's (assistant court ladies), apart from that, she loves adorning herself with beautiful jewelry that can blind anyone under the sun and having her paintings done by the palace painter.

Yunho, on the other hand, dreaded his life more than ever. Just like what his father mentioned to him before, he is at the age wherein he has to find a suitable bride for him and take the throne next. Just like that, his father brought neighboring princesses from different kingdoms. Yunho, who only wanted to devote himself in his studies and live his life to the fullest, even if it meant, breaking a few palace rules, did his best to make the princesses hate him.

One time, Yunho was growing bored with the princess when she was talking about her talents and skills that he started picking his nose and tossing it away from his randomly. When it landed on the princess' dress, she immediately left their castle. Another time while a princess tried to get close to Yunho, too close for his liking, he leaned close to her.

"I am not circumcised" his words was enough to make the princess be disgusted with him and never returned back to their land.

Recently, a princess from a distant land visited their kingdom with the hopes that she will make their only son fall for her. Yunho sniggered when she heard her words, earning him a glare from his father. While they were out walking in the palace gardens, Yunho stepped on her skirt, causing her to tumble down the hill. When she got back up on her feet, she was covered in grass and mud. Yunho, who was at the top of the hill, only watched her "accidental" misfortune. The princess was so angry that she told the king that she will never marry his son before leaving the palace.

"This will be the fourth princess coming into our kingdom. Have you no shame?" His father's words boomed across the royal hall where a few scribes and advisers witnessed the scene.

"You and your books have no place in this palace! At your age, I was already skilled at hunting and married! And if I were you, I'd given up and throw all your books away" The king spoke with such venom in his voice before walking out of the royal hall. Yunho was left standing in the middle of the hall. He didn't want to become like him, why would he be like his father? Instead of going to meet the fourt princess coming into their palace, Yunho set out of the palace to walk amongst the people in the market.

With a cloth wrapped around his head to conceal his identity, Yunho quietly escaped the palace, he remembered how his grandfather used this secret tunnel to get out whenever he was stressed with all the royal stuff around him. Once the bustling market greeted his sight, Yunho breathed the air and have never felt so alive.

He watched the children run around and play, others holding their mother's hand while their mother's make their purchases. Wooden carts being pushed, lovers strolling and eating. This was the kind of environment that Yunho has never seen until now. He was always confined by the safety and security of the palace and its guards, but being by himself, he has never felt so free and live. For once after his grandfather's passing, he felt happy.

The fresh fruits in the market looked vibrant and pleasing in his eyes. With hands to himself, Yunho strolled around the fruit area of the market, but a woman wearing ragged and baggy clothes stealthily took a persimmon from a cart and walked away. Thinking that no one saw her, Yunho followed her closely, for some reason, why was he so intrigued with a thief?

Yunho caught her stealing another persimmon from another vendor without being caught. He was impressed by her, this is what years of stealing training pays off. But on the third vendor, the woman was caught stealing and the beafy man caught her slim wrists.

"You will pay for that!"

But you couldn't speak and tried to pry the man's hand away from her. Yunho watched as you shook her head.

"What? You have no money? My business will fail because of you! You have to pay...with your hand!" The man held your wrist tightly and took out a butcher's knife. The people around them, including Yunho, watched was happening. Yunho immediately took the cloth above his head and stepped between them.

"Good morning kind sir! What is the problem here?" Yunho spoke with a smile on his face. The people gasped at his appearance and bowed on the dusty ground before him, even the beafy man dropped his butcher's knife and curtsied to him.

"Good Lord, what brings you here to a place like this? However, this woman right here is stealing from my business!" Yunho raised a hand infront of the man's face.

"This woman you speak of is with me. Please, treat her with some respect." Pulling something out of his sleeve, Yunho took out five gold coins.

"I believe this is more than enough for one persimmon?" The beafy man's eyes widened at the sight of the gold coins before him. Smiling widely he nodded and profusedly thanked the crown prince. Yunho turned around and spotted you behind him with your head hung low. Placing an arm around you made your head shot up at him. Yunho's heart instantly beated quickly. You who he caught stealing and saved your hand just now, is a beautiful woman. Long thick eyelashes, chocolate brown orbs, porcelain white skin and pink lips. He blushed as he leaned down to your ear, whispering "Follow me". You only nodded your head and away from the market you left.

Once away from the hustle and bustle of the town, Yunho led the you to a lesser crowded place, more likely through the entrance of the forest, where it is only just the two of them.

"A thank you would be nice" Yunho suddenly spoke, but you only blushed, not moving your lips to speak.

"Did you hear me? I said a thank you would be nice" Yunho spoke a little louder, peering close to your face. But your cheeks blushed a deeper shade of red. Once your eyes meet, Yunho took note of your cool grey orbs. They were brown back there-

You shook your head.

Yunho took him a minute to realize that you could not speak. Hence why you were communicating with him through your short responses with your head.

"That's sad" Yunho spoke, he took one persimmon out from your hand and started peeling it for you. As he gave it to you, he watched you delightedly take it from his hand and eat it happily. He wondered if you were born from the lower class, a slave to be exact. He then wondered what would have happened if he didn't come into your rescue. Would you still have your hand? Or would they meet the first time without your hand?

Once he snapped out of his thoughts, you were no longer beside him. He turned his head left and right, wondering where you could have gone without telling him anything. And not from afar, Yunho caught sight of your ragged clothing, hiding behind the tree, he watched as you walk and slowly bend down on the ground.

On the ground, you started to walk in all fours and with a beam of silver light, transformed into a white fox. Your tail splitting into two, then splitting into nine. Yunho's eyes widened and immediately ran back to the tunnel and back to the castle.

Later that night, Yunho's father was once again displeased with him.

"Why must you embarrass me in front of the Silla family?" His voice boomed in the royal hall room once more that the court ladies of his mother jumped out of fear. Yunho, stone faced, said nothing to his father.

"The princess came here and was waiting for you. But you weren't around" His father stood close to him, chest to chest and his face turning into bright red in color.

"Instead, I heard that from the maids that you were in the market! With a woman!" there was a pause "Is that rue?"

"Yes" Yunho spoke immediately but confidently. He watched as his father's furrowed eyebrows and expression softened before turning his back on him.

"Why do you continue to be like this? Do you not want to take the throne? Or do you want to live a life with that wench?"

"She is no wench!"

"Are you taking her side now?"

Yunho kept quiet to this.

"You speak when I'm talking to you!"

"I am not taking anyone's side"

"Show some respect to me! Your father!"

Yunho's blood began to boil, his jaw tensing. "When were you ever a father to me?" He spoke lowly, enough for only the people around the hall room to hear before leaving the place.

While on his way to his chamber, he passed by a window that overlooks the palace gardens. He swore in the corner of his eye that he saw a white fox sitting on top of rock, watching him.

From that moment on, Yunho would continue to become the palace's headache more than being a crowned prince, secretly meeting and letting you enter inside the palace and into his room. He would secretly bring you inside his room and ask one of the guards to bring him a basket persimmons because "he was hungry when he woke up from his sleep".

Yunho found out that you were a gumiho, a nine tailed fox who lived for about six hundred years, explaining why you could transform as a human. Instead of devouring human heart and liver, you preferred to eat persiommons because of its sweet taste. He asked if you wanted to become a cheonho, but you shook your head and ate more of the fruit.

When the sun would start to rise, he would let you out through the tunnel he knew. Watching you secretly escape and not wake the royal guards around. The little rendezvous made Yunho's heart bear faster, he could perfectly say that no royal daughter would ever capture his heart like how you could.

When the monks from the north came to bless the palace, all eight monks sensed a strange but weak yin energy as they stepped foot inside. Yunho's father tried to entertainment them away but as they walked towards Yunho's royal chamber, it was found that his room is the source of where the yin energy was coming from. And now Yunho was forced to put ofuda's (or talisman papers) to bring in more luck.

While the monks, his mother and father walked away from his room, Yunho stayed back and quickly tore them down. Knowing that once you step foot into his room, you would feel an unpleasant feeling. And Yunho didn't want to become the reason of your death.

Unbeknownst to Yunho, a certain monk stayed behind the castle. That night, the monk did not bat an eyelid down and waited if anything or anyone would show up. It was already getting late when he caught sight of a woman or who he thought was a slave secretly met up with the crown prince. Even though they were a few feet away from him, the monk could feel the dark energy around the woman. And closely did he follow them. But his efforts of following them and finding out what they were doing were fruitless and Yunho shut the doors of the castle behind him.

It has been two months and a half since Yunho kept bringing you inside the castle. He was already formulating a plan; a plan wherein he would buy a handful of silk feminine hanboks, shoes and accessories, create an unheard kingdom and present you as the unheard kingdom's daughter. But he never told you about this, he wanted it to be a surprise on the third month of meeting you. Because the third month signifies as the one hundred day he fell for you.

Yunho stared at your brown eyes. He didn't know which one he preferred, your human brown eyes or your grey fox eyes. But still, you were you. Slowly did Yunho's face come close to you and your lips met. It was the first time Yunho kisses a girl, but there was no awkwardness between you two. It felt right.

He enjoyed your soft and moisturized lips on his, leaning away to gaze at your face before taking your lips again. Slowly his tongue darted in and out of your mouth, his hands moving up and down from your back to your waist, your arms wrapped around his neck. And for a moment, Yunho felt a ball slip into his mouth.

It was the yeowoo guseul or a deep kiss, as his grandfather told him. As Yunho swallowed the marble, he could feel his energy being transmitted to you. But he didn't cared. At least if he swallowed the marble, he would forever remember you and not miss one memory with you.

As the sun starts to rise, Yunho led you out of the castle. But what he didn't expect to see were eight monks and a group of palace soldiers ready to strike you.

"Grandfather look! I caught a persimmon from falling off the tree!"

Yunho, now in his eighties, smiled at his grandson for showing him the ripe fruit that he caught in his hand.

"Will the fox gods be pleased with my offer?" Yunho's five year old grandson asked in a a small voice, Yunho smiled and nodded his head before watching his grandson run back to gather more persimmon's.

When the sun was setting, Yunho couldn't attend the festival, he stayed back in the palace and took a night stroll around the garden. Dismissing the court ladies and the palace guards when they tried to follow him. Saying it would be a hassle and he only wanted to be accompanied by his thoughts.

Yunho walked around, trying to recall his memories because his old age was one by one slowly disregarding it for him. He could remember a few things, but they were blurry. Underneath the persimmon tree, was you.

Yunho lets out a faint chuckle. "I remember you" he spoke in a low, raspy tone due to his old age. He watches as you smile and walked up to him. You who never age and still stayed beautiful after all these years.

"I remember you" you spoke for the first time.

(gif is not mine! credits to the rightful owner!)

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