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sunny-speaks · 2 years ago

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Hello ! I've read your fanfiction about a 14dwy academical rivals to lovers AU. I loved it... and know I'm obssessed. Could you please give us more headcanons ?

Academic Rivals! [REDACTED] x Reader Headcanons

Ahhh! This is my first ask and I am more than glad to answer! I am so sorry I took so long responding,,, but I do hope you enjoy!

Characters: [REDACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

(also to @14dayswithyou you can make as many additions as you want to this au, anyone can! a tag or two would be cool,,, but I don't mind not being tagged! i just can't believe i'm the first to write academic rivals-- but ill gladly claim the au!!)

So… [REDACTED], huh? Out of all the people at your post-secondary education institute, you chose the asshat fuckboi?

…Not a bad choice.

What, you falling for him because despite that hugeass brain (and his even bigger dick), he doesn’t make you feel like you’re dumb or inferior to him?

What, you like the fact that he treats you with borderline reverence on the inside yet willingly chooses to joke around and banter with you because it’s attention nonetheless?

What, you like the fact that he’s crazy dedicated to you and would never cheat (unlike a certain *cough* Teodore *cough*) on you?

What, you falling for him because deep down he is crazy, down bad for you and just wants you to want him as much as he wants you?

Well, you’re in for a ride if you even muttered a ‘...sure’ to any of those questions, because boy… does [REDACTED] deliver.

So maybe you say you hate him, but do you really?

Would your gaze drop from his eyes to other places on him and back up to him if you detested him as much as you say?

Would you continue bantering and teasing him like you do if you really wished he were dead?

Mmm, nah. He didn’t think so.

He knows you well enough to know you don’t actually hate him. You just rather think you hate him.

Oh, you loved the tension that came with rivalry, didn’t you?

Don’t worry, as long as you did, he did too. <3

He may have gone to therapy for some of his family issues or deep rooted self-esteem issues, but that won’t change anything in the way he loves you.

He loves you sooo much, and he knows how smart you are as a person and believes in you so much… But he can’t help but worry!

He promised he’d leave his life of lies behind… but until you’re safe, he can’t stop what he’s started…

So, yes. He will ‘obsessively’ love you. But it would be less… ‘secretly following you in real life’ and more ‘just checking through the cameras.’

Something that hopefully you wouldn’t be aware of any time soon.

After all, you had a real communicative relationship with him now!

Why would he jeopardize that?

Better yet, if you ever feel unsafe from other stalkers, you could always stop by his place. He’s probably stronger than you if you want someone intimidating around to scare off the creeps!

“Hey, [REDACTED]?” You hesitantly asked, god, this was embarrassing… But he was the only person that you could go to that would hopefully not ask too many questions about your request.

You hated his guts, but at the end of the day, if you had to admit it (to yourself, never to him, God forbid), [REDACTED] was a dependable guy. And he seemed to respect you at times…

So that meant he was one of the people you trusted.

“Yeah, angel? Do you want some help with tutoring? Y’know, cause I’m sooo smart?” He made some offhanded comments with a snarky tone as he gathered his items into his bag before seeing you were serious. His grin fell. “Ah, sorry. …What is it?”

“Well- Uh— I-” You stammered, regret flashing through your face. Did you really have to ask him…?

No.

It was a problem, hopefully they’d help you out.

No matter how rude or condescending he acted, [REDACTED] was a good person nonetheless. He does realize that there are days you’re not up to bantering with him and leaves you alone… And days where he makes sure you’re not sick under the guise of it not being a fair fight.

Well, they wouldn’t like all this hesitation…

Better to be blunt about it. “I think I have a stalker.”

His face immediately fell to concern, “Shit. You’re sure?” He quickly shoved everything into his bag before swinging it over his shoulder as you gave him a brusque nod. He hesitantly hovered his hand over your shoulder, giving you a worried look, “That must be horrifying.”

[REDACTED]’s lip furled into a disgusted frown just thinking about the assholes out there who had even dared to scare you a bit. It was none of their goddamn business to stare, even breathe the same air, as his angel.

The fact that they had the gall to follow you around? Atrocious.

You let out a stuttered breath, body tensing at the adjective he had used. It was horrifying. You didn’t know where this stalker had come from… All you had known was that there was supposedly a creep on the loose and you didn’t need any sort of pervert interested in you… “I d-don’t need your concern, dumbass.” You gave him a quick, approving tilt of your head, letting him rest his hand on your shoulder, contrary to what you had huffed under your breath.

Something about the warmth of someone else grounded you, tethered you back to the world. It was a lot nicer than that paranoid feeling you’d been carrying with you lately. You hadn’t seen anyone you were close to, not wanting to bother them…

But with [REDACTED], it just felt… easier? You weren’t quite sure.

“I was just… y’know wondering if you might�� wanna have me over for a couple days?” You awkwardly chuckled, maybe this was too much to ask of him… How could you phrase this so you didn’t seem too vulnerable…? Especially in front of your jerk rival. “I know you might not handle my presence with you for so long, you might even combust from being so close to me… My apartment just doesn’t feel… too safe right now.”

His face immediately softened, eyebrows unfurling from worry to concern and comforting features made their way to his face. He gave you a small smile, “Angel, you can drop by anytime you want. I don’t have experience with…creeps like that.” His mouth curled into a snarl, but immediately was washed over with a kind smile, “But if you feel more secure with someone like me around, then I’m more than glad too.” He paused, a smirk making its way to his face, “But I hope you aren’t doing this to scope out your competition. Wouldn’t be trying to find a flaw of mine, now are ya?”

Your body relaxed, as you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Before you heard his last quip at least.

You let out an annoyed and flabbergasted noise at his quip before rolling your eyes, “Oh? You’d be so flattered, wouldn’t you, [REDACTED]? I don’t even need to scope you out to beat you…!” You stopped before sighing, “But… Thanks for letting me stay at your place, I guess. I’ll need to pick up some of my shit at home before we go, that alright with you… 2nd place?” You jeered at the insult. After all, what were the two of you if not competitors for the highest mark in the class?

Friends? You scoffed at the notion fondly, if he were to ask, you wouldn’t say no.

But that was for you to know, and for him to never discover.

He softly smiled to himself, more than glad to see you back to your nature before looking down at you than winking, “Won’t be 2nd for too long, angel.”

You stared at him, beckoning him with you on your way out of the class, “Gonna walk me to the car? Can’t hurt to have people gape out my intellect without you there to rub it in. We both know I’m better anyway.”

He let out a series of breathless chuckles, “That’s my considerate rival now, always putting my needs above yours… I’m honored.”

“Good. C’mon now, [REDACTED].”

The two of you end up teasing each other, hurling insults, bickering and a bit of everything in almost every conversation.

It’s in your nature to be naturally competitive for some reason.

Maybe [REDACTED] just enjoys seeing how frustrated or worked up you get… It is kind of adorable.

The same goes for him too though…

You roll your eyes at him, a small scoff making it through your voice, “You beat me once. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He gave you a taunting grin, his eyes squinted, light blue twinkling with mischief. “Why? Are you jealous, angel?”

“What-” You made a sound of disbelief. He was acting like a child! “Wipe that stupid grin off your face, idiot! So you beat me by a couple points-”

“And you flaunt it when you beat me by even less…” He mumbled loud enough to himself that you could barely pick up on it.

“Hey! It’s different and you know it!” You huffed at him, “Whatever. Just… stop grinning like that, you look stupid.”

He shrugged his shoulders, a triumphant, lazy grin splayed on his features, “Make me.”

Your eye twitched at his threat. Ohhh, that punk did not just― You flexed your fingers as if that would calm you.

Of course, he had to beat you by a couple of points this one time… It was such a dumb project! You hissed at him under your breath, seeing that stupidly cocky grin on his face.

Why’d you have that dumb main character with little to no trauma, while he got the side character that hides all their insecurities but ends up projecting onto their kids?!

Unfair. That teacher was totally biased.

Giving [REDACTED] more work to analyze… making his grade go up from the research… Hrrr, so biased. So unfair.

He gave you a slitted-eye smile as if to mock your frustration. You grumbled in envy before glaring at him. You grab him by the collar, tough enough to pull him towards you but gentle enough for him to break out by choice, “You wish. What’s it take to shut that stupidly pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

Your eyes flickered between his widened, shocked blue eyes to those soft, kissable lips of his.

You did not like where this was going…

Or maybe you did.

You weren’t too sure, emotions get muddled easily… Love and hate have a fine line after all.

…So do fear and arou-

Nope!

No way!

Those are not very ‘pure’ thoughts!

You pulled him closer to you by his shirt collar and tilted your head, “Maybe a kiss from a resident angel?” You practically snorted at the remark of that condescending nickname he used for you.

[REDACTED] stared at you, too stunned to speak as you huffed with pride, quickly letting go. You smirked, turning around after winking at him, shit-faced grin all on display, “Clearly, that worked.”

With no one in the class anymore, [REDACTED] was left by himself. Their jaw went slack for a bit before mumbling into his hand as you were far away, furious blush spreading through their cheeks.

“…Was that a promise?”

#14 days with you #ren 14dwy #ren x reader #yandere #visual novel #ren 14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy ren #🧨headcanons #🌟small fic

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renhy6ck · 4 years ago

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closer of you – renjun & donghyuck.

warnings: fingering (f!), voyeur & dom!donghyuck, hard dom!renjun, dirty talk, degradation, fighting for dominance?, masturb4tion (m x m!), pet names, big c0ck! hyuck, oral (m!), creampie and vaginal penetration.

synopsis: porn without some specific plot. just pure and clear smut.

—

you know how much renjun needs you when he tilts his body against yours while you are still lying on the bed. donghyuck's silhouette sitting on the next bed does not seem to bother him, as he makes no mention that he would stop.

the babylook that barely covered yourbody is on the floor, your pink chess skirt is wrapped around your waist and the panties are put aside. the silence kind of scares you and you don't know very well where to look, holding a groan when you feel your boyfriend's thin fingers playing with your input. you contracted a few times with the mention of his fingertips getting into you, in a few seconds, two fingers were burying into you.

"you don't have to get that nervous, kitten" donghyuck's soft voice echoed through your ears, his eyes immediately turned to a relaxed face. a few drops of sweat fell from his cheeks and his dark eyes showed how much he was focused on you. "pay attention to how your boyfriend wants to fuck you... if you are a good slutty to him, maybe i can play with you a little"

a smug smile appeared on his smelling lips, causing your heart to beat. renjun pragued, using his free hand to tighten your waist, sinking his fingers into your skin waveously.

"you can't be satisfied with just one cock, angel? do you really need to be numb with cum until you can't stand it anymore?" the tip of his tongue makes a noise when it collides with the sky of his own mouth. then his fingers went in and out quickly and with some violence.

you close your eyes, throwing your head back, throwing your hip forward, in a desperate search for the tasty sensation that his fingers brought you, amid the rapid palpitations of your heart, just with the idea of the other two eyes on you. you wanted to look beautiful to donghyuck as you never looked before.

renjun wasn't a bad boyfriend, he knew very well of your secret wish for his flirtive and sticky best friend. he was unable to ignore the jokes about your beautiful ass or how your eyes shone at the moment haechan appeared. even if hyuck irritates him, he would be too cruel if he didn't give you that chance. you were so good, why deprive yourself of tasting the one thing that seemed so tempting and so impossible to have?

"you didn't tell me that your little toy was dumb, hyung." the acidity of hyuck's voice makes you choke with your own saliva and the daydreams disappear.

renjun stops when you were about to get there, the diver pounding in need as his fingers drifted away.

"do you want him, princess?"

you hesitate and settle.

"yes, master..." the subdued voice softens the hyuck's ego. "i want his dick first"

your sudden confidence made him blink a few times, incredulous. jealousy tightened on his chest, his eyes half-closing as he split between facing his large western eyes and his open, reddish lips.

quickly, his hand went towards your beautiful and reddish face, squeezing it tightly, causing your lips looking small. your open legs against his body was an impulse for renjun's free hand to come into contact with your sensitive clit, depositing an aggressive slap.

"i'm not good enough to be the first, huh?"

it's not difficult to repair the pulsing vein in renjun's tempora, the loud and irritated voice already denounced the displeasure. renjun wouldn't admit it, but his ego was slightly hurt.

with a look of disgust, renjun releases your face, gradually moving away from your body. your elbows leaned on the mattress, pushing your body forward slightly. the blonde's hands tidy his black shirt, walking towards his friend, while his eyes look at them curiously.

"don't let her cum until i say to"

a presumptuous smile appeared on donghyuck's face, his tongue running through his lower lip as his hands strolled through his thick, showy thighs amid black skinny pants.

"that's a little hard to guarantee, man. look how she is now. if i touch her, she can melt"

renjun's jaw is locked now. you decide to be quiet a little, using your own fingers to squeeze and play with the nipples while you watch them fight. the idea of them having you both seemed too good to be real, you thought.

"do you want to see me end the show?"

donghyuck stands up, or looking into his best friend's eyes. the smooth white shirt contrasting with your tanned skin made you sigh. how could he be so beautiful? releasing a low groan, you soon squeeze your clit between the indicator and the thumb.

"you don't have courage enough, injunnie. not while she's enjoying her own little pussy" haechan's peripheral vision did not let your movements be ignored.

"don't make her cum." renjun touches the shoulder of the youngest boy before sitting in the place where hyuck was previously.

donghyuck approached you slowly, gently touching your wrist, taking it away from your own intimacy. you groaned, looking at him among your eyelashes with some difficulty. the neon red light preventing you from seeing it so clearly.

"are you a good girl, hm, angel?" he interrupts you even before you can answer, touching your hair and putting it behind your ear. "of course you are. you're a needy little girl, aren't you? you need a real man to eat this cunt in the right way am i right?"

renjun was already about to touch his own stick, lowering the zipper of his tight pants, pulling on the mattress, squeezing the erection through his underwear, but the youngest words dispersed him. you looked at him, feeling a certain apprehension in giving any answer to the boy in front of you, but not preventing his cold hands from going down and up through your thighs, squeezing the inner part, avoiding your nucleus in a frustrating way.

"i swear by god, haechan, that if you continue with this thing, i forbid you to touch her"

donghyuck turns his eyes, opens the button of his pants and quickly puts his erection out, brushing it against your thigh. you groaned with the amazing picture in front of you. you blinked a few times to try to see more clearly. haechan's cock was thick, bigger than you could think, making your mouth salivate.

"it won't fit...i'm sorry. but it can't fit on me" you groaned.

"ah...it is. you know it is"

one of haechan's hands wrapped itself around the base itself, guiding the dick to your entrance, entering little by little, enlarging its inner walls as each centimeter sank inside you. the free hand grabbed both of your wrists, placing them above your head, pushing his own hip forward.

"be quiet, babe and don't cum, i don't want your pretty boyfriend to kill me"

the delicious laugh of the tallest made you into a trance. his eyes couldn't at least remain open, fighting against the neon light to observe your beautiful face while the noise of his hip against your echoed through the room.

renjun's hands were agile on his cock, going down and up, playing with his own glans, squeezing and rubbing his thumb in circles sometimes. it didn't take long for him to approach, kneeling close to your small body.

donghyuck approached, touching your boyfriend's face, turning to himself. he kissed him, entering the older man's mouth with his tongue, reducing the stools to something slower. renjun was slightly confused, but gave in to the touches, weaving his tongue into each other's, bringing a nice feeling. your eyes blinked a few times, not believing in the warm sight in front of you.

you felt your entrance pulsate in the middle of haechan's stick, pressing it with some force, going against your order and releasing some moans with your lips between open. the hand before on the boy's face, now was already involving renjun's extension, puncturing it quickly.

"master please, please." you wriggle on the bed, pushing your own hip against the cock, shaking your body in a desperate way, letting the tricky groans escape from your mouth. when they stop, your boyfriend announced with some arrogance:

"it's my turn"

haechan leaned over your body, kissing your lips then for a few seconds. the soft and warm mouth touched your jaw, your neck, your shoulders, your clavicle, the space between your breasts, while the stocking became desperately slow. soon, he was already out of you.

your boyfriend was quick to get into you, squeezing the skin of your hip with his fingers, sinking them heavily there, probably leaving marks, stocking quite quickly.

"squeeze my fucking cock, cockslut" he grunted in an order, entering more and more, moaning with the image of your messy face and the strands of your hair fallen on your face.

you obeyed him immediately, pressing and pressing your entrance around the extension of renjun. receiving slight slaps on your cheek; donghyuck's cock was hitting your face, looking for your attention, making you turn your head to the side and open your lips, letting it stick into your cavity, storing your mouth willingly.

"fuck, she still accepts me so well." he sighed, clenching his fingers in your hair, pulling your face against him.

you blinked, controlling the tears as you felt his glans reach your throat at the same time as its apex approached. you needed confirmation so much, otherwise you would succumb, you were sure.

"don't you like to have two cocks using you like a stupid little slut? if you keep pressing like that, i'll finish you off"

with a few more stabs, you felt the sweet and bitter taste of sperm coming down your throat, leaving only the caresses of his fingers on your face and hair. meanwhile, renjun slowed down in your grip. now with your mouth free, the moans escaped easily, hoarse and low.

"let her cum, hyung. i don't think she can stand it any longer"

a cunning smile grows on renjun's thin lips, slipping his hands through your body in a lingering caress, whispering quietly.

"enjoy it, princess. you heard him."

wiithout waiting, you have broken down around him, who in a few stools empties his liquid into you, relaxing his own muscles and laying his body on yours, hiding his face in the curvature of your neck.

"that was good, wasn't it?" haechan asks in a pleasant voice, getting up and straightening his pants, buttoning itand sitting at the edge of the bed. "did you like it, my baby?"

"it was amazing." you blink, letting some tears fall on your cheeks.

"i only have one thing to say" renjun started.

"i did something wrong, love?"

"no, y/n. the problem is him"

i the middle of a laugh, the youngest's hands rest on his own waist.

"aren't you going to tell me that you are mad because i fucked her, right?"

"if you kiss me again, i will kill you."

#nct smut #renjun smut #donghyuck smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct scenarios #eng

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

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modern!albedo with a darling who's also a chemistry student, one of the top in the class, having the same grades as him, if not better.

(god forbid! a woman with more than one brain cell?!)

he's just so frustrated with you. he initially comes to a conclusion you're probably fucking the teacher, but when he realizes that you're actually good at what you do, whether it's because he's paired up with you in the lab or just because he starts stalking you (out of spite, not because he's obsessed or anything...), he has to find different ways of elevating himself.

so he starts finding ways unrelated to brains in which he's better than you. he's a man, for one, and physically stronger, very obviously. you're a weak, small girl, definitely have no chance against him in that field. days pass by, he watches you closer, you start to annoy him, and... oh.

maybe, just maybe, he could... get rid of you? not kill you, of course, he's not that kind of person. but... grab you while you're on your way home from work. put a chemical-soaked rag over your nose and mouth, then somehow drag you back to his apartment. maybe he'd even find a way to explain your sudden disappearance. send an email in your name, saying you got pregnant or something, felt ashamed, and fled to take care of the baby. you look like the type to do that, anyway, so it might as well work.

he only fantasized it for the first few weeks, but it's Albedo, for fuck's sake. he's gotta try everything once. you might as well be his first. (one of many firsts).

it's quicker than he thought it'd be, you don't fight or scream half as much as he thought you would. maybe you recognized him and that's why you didn't panic when you saw him. you're lighter than he assumed, too, and he easily just transports you to his place after you fall unconscious.

your phone has no lock - goddamnit, maybe you are stupid after all - and he sends your family and any aquaintances he deems important the news. the university doesn't care. you had hopes for a really bright future, but there'll be hundreds of others just like you. your parents are shocked, and from what he reads between the lines, a little disappointed. they still wish you the best and offer to take you in, but "you" refuse and say you and your boyfriend wanna be fully independent.

albedo is just thriving because of how perfect it is. you cook for him, take care of the mundane chores, do his dirty laundry, all while you watch him get a PhD and live the life you were supposed to live. you can't do shit about it, either, because he knows you're a little bit educated and keeps a close watch over you, making sure you don't try to poison him or yourself.

he grows accustomed to your presence at home after some time and hey, why not start treating you like a wife? you're already doing all of the shit women are supposed to do for their husbands, like it's the 1950s, so he might as well start fucking you to top it off. pretending you willingly chose him as your caretaker until he actually starts to convince himself you're enjoying some of it. he's a tired, hard-working man, coming home to find comfort in his stupid wifey's cunt.

he might even breed you. make that pregnancy con real, you know? buy you a ring as an addition, because girls like shiny things.

* can i be 🧷 anon? i don't think it's taken, but if it is, then you could maybe choose me an emoji? to add to my little rambling above, in my native language, we don't say "housewife" but "house hen", so i imagine Albedo calls his darling that. just for an extra bit of humiliation.

anon holy FUCK i am frothing you have no idea i felt my body temperature rise reading this

I love the idea of Albedo being kinda pretentious because like, it's very very subtle, even completely internal. Outwardly he's pretty humble and dry humored but has just the slightest edge of "God I am so above all of you plebians" attitude that kinda radiates from him in some lines tbh. I feel like he would internalize it a lot, whereas you have some bastards that are very outwardly and verbally pretentious, but he internalizes all his feelings in general, so, the arrogance is no different. He doesn't say a word, he's just thinking about how dumb and annoying everyone is in his head as he works with a blank face. But someone doing better than him??? Unacceptable.

But he KNOWS he has that soft humble good natured image and he can't ruin it, part of the persona is that he can't, god forbid, make people think he actually cares about that or anything... it's no big deal if darling did better on some assignment than he did. He's not a sore loser or anything who would get upset over something like that. No, never. He's happy for her. It doesn't bother him at all. It didn't keep him up all night seething. *eye twitch*

And while he would get kinda ticked off by anyone doing better than him, but there's something so much more humiliating about it being some girl yknow?? It feels the same as being beaten by a kid. It's more emasculating and more shameful, and in turn, makes him much more irritated.

Also you KNOW he probably justifies it with mental gymnastics, saying you were given unfair preferential treatment or something to make himself feel better lol. Smh universities these days, handing girls money for existing.

Also also "house hen" is literally the cutest thing. I love that

And ye added!

#.al #tw: misogyny #lena's asks #q

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kyuus4ku · 4 years ago

Text

𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

chuuya nakahara

genre: scenario ; fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.3K

a/n: happy late birthday hatrack mf <3

The vitality of life in a birthday party had different variations of their kind. Not everyone was interested in celebrating a person's birth— in fact, some were interested in everything other than the life of the party themselves. Typically, the booze, the food, and the petty chatter among the attendees were what took away the spotlight of the day's honoree.

All the same, Chuuya didn't really care about all that. Well, needless to say, he did appreciate the company he was granted the privilege of spending the night with, and their efforts to host a grand, but intimate get-together to celebrate his birthday was something he held close to his heart, even if he didn't expressly convey his appreciation.

But in reality, he didn't really favor being in the spotlight. Such trivial desires of those who seek an embellished reputation seemed pretty pathetic to him.

Besides, this day would pass, and he'd go back to the normal throes of daily life. Everyone would. So why was there a necessity to fuss about a single day, when it would repeatedly pass and come again throughout eternity?

His eyes surveyed the entire room: half his colleagues were drunk, while the rest were trying to cling onto dear life to retain their sobriety.

Still, his eyes swept across the room to find you, but since you weren't anywhere in sight, he stealthily slipped out of crowd's verve to the only secluded, noiseless place he knew he'd find you at— the balcony.

The only thing separating you and him were glass doors. Silently, he observed you staring blankly at the scene of city lights displayed before you, with a glass of wine in hand. He reached out to the handle in hesitance, but fought against his muted reluctance to open it.

"Good evening, birthday boy," you cooed elegantly, intending to tease him slightly as a smile twinkled through your lips underneath the moonlight.

He shut his eyes and winced in slight embarrassment, laughing quietly in response.

"Cut it out," he came to stand next to you as you both sipped from your wine glasses meagerly, savoring its dainty zest as a cloud of familiarity devoured your figures.

The indication of the prodigious bond he had with you never failed to occur to him whenever you were around him. These feelings were all tied up together and there was no telling of how either of you wished to unravel them.

So he just waited, but as he did, his attachment to you grew without waiting for logic to catch up. To a certain point, it became unbearable, but he found that as long as you were next to him, he never longed for anything more than that.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, too.

God forbid that the privilege of even standing in your presence ever slipped through his fingers. That was why he wanted nothing to do with meddling with such a frail thing, even if that meant confronting his sacred sentiments for you.

Be that as it may, he was indeed no coward, right?

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight?" you asked as you lit a cigarette between your fingers, offering him a puff which he willingly took advantage of.

"Depends on who's asking," he smirked and checked behind to see if anyone was eavesdropping only to say his next few words in a hushed manner, "If Big Sister heard what I really had to say, I think the Boss would ask us to work overtime to earn back the money he'd have to spend on alcohol again."

You replied in meek chuckles. You had no idea about how much he adored your amusement at his lame jokes, so you didn't notice how his eyes sparkled at the sight of your smile.

"Don't you like celebrating your birthday, Chuuya?" you asked genuinely, curiosity beaming from your face.

"Not very much. It's nice, but does anyone actually like birthdays?" he shrugged dismissively, watching the tufts of smoke leak out from your lips.

"I enjoy them," you said plainly, "It's nice having a day set aside where people give a damn about your existence, you know? Even if they're just pretending, it's quite nice."

He glanced at you sideways, taking note of how hollow your words sounded to his ears.

"I never thought of it that way," he turned to face you, resting his elbow on the rim of the balcony as he set aside his wine glass.

"Do I have to celebrate your birthday everyday to prove that I give a damn about you?" the way he arched his eyebrows fooled you into thinking he was actually asking a serious question.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide how cheesy that sweet statement sounded to you.

"Are you flirting with me?" you simpered as you turned to face him, too, "Try harder, prince charming. I'm very hard to impress."

"Hell yeah, you are," he subtracted the number of inches separating the two of you, but you didn't notice because you were just too captivated by the universes he concealed in his eyes, "But I'm just getting started."

"Oh, please," you turned your face away from his to razz his anticipation, "I'm a better romantic than you'll ever be."

"Prove it," his fingers prodded at the side of your jaw so that your gaze met his once more, making you accidentally drop the cigarette bud to the ground. His heart skipped a beat as you smiled nonchalantly.

Without so much as a warning, you pulled him by the collar, deliberatively resting your eyes on his lips for a split second before planting a sugary kiss on them.

His train of thought—which was constantly at work, mind you—had suddenly encountered an obstruction; no thought flashed through his usually active headspace as his heart raged in agonizing ecstasy.

You pulled away abruptly to whisper, "Happy birthday," in a brazen voice he'd never wish to forget for the rest of his life, but he had waited too long for this moment to leave it as it is, so he pulled you closer by the sides of your face as his smiling lips tasted yours in greed he was not at all familiar with.

This one moment blatantly proved that the feelings the two of you had buried deep within were not at all that difficult to unravel.

Perhaps birthdays weren't so boring after all.

As your lips clung onto his, your minds wandered about, trying to figure out how a single moment was capable of potentially changing the course of the rest of your lives.

He finally pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, pulling at your bottom lip slightly with the tip of his thumb as the two of you tried to steady your irregular breathing.

"Impressed?" you teased as you stole his hat to put on your head, retracting from his grasp to entwine your fingers into his.

"Eh? I could've done better," but in his heart he recited the words, 'best birthday ever.'

It was no exaggeration; this was one of the only birthdays he treasured the most for the years to come, and the future birthdays were what he cherished even more—even if they were just one in 365 miserable days—because he got to spend it with the person who made him appreciate them in the first place.

Your special moment was interrupted by a few knocks on the glass door, and the two of you were startled to find a very confused Tachihara peeking from a gap through it.

"Uh, we're gonna cut the cake... but we kinda need Chuuya for that."

"In a minute," Chuuya called out, making Tachihara retreat back into the house in defeat.

"Before we go, I gotta ask," he murmured seriously, "Did you wait all this time just to kiss me on my birthday?"

"Pretty cool birthday gift, right?" you grinned.

He groaned in secondhand embarrassment before kissing the side of your temple to express his evident amusement, stealing his hat back in the process.

"You're so fucking extra," yet the smile on his face proved that he was very much pleased with how recklessly bold you were.

#bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd drabble #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs #bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs hcs #bungo stray dogs chuuya

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scarletdawnxx-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Nightmare Chapter 2

Continuation

When you finally woke back up it was dark out. Blinking you could see you were in the med bay. Sitting up and groaning, you grabbed your head, it was pounding and the bright lights weren’t helping.

“You really overdid it today,” Bruce said from behind you.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you dim the lights please,” you asked the A.I. that ran the complex. Instantly the lights dimmed and your brain thanked you. Bruce handed, what you suspected was something to sooth your throbbing head, along with a glass of water to you. Thanking him and taking it willingly.

“What happened in there today? That man will need a padded room for the rest of his life after you got to him.” Bruce asked, taking the glass from you and looking you over.

“I don’t know. I was able to feed him fear without touching him. That’s never happened before. I was able to magnify it, I felt his mind breaking in my hands.” You said looking down at your hands noticing a little dried blood on them.

“Your powers seem to be growing, but also looks like they are taking more out of you, you will want to work on not only mental but physical stamina. I’m going to suggest increased training time for you as well as meditation. But first, nurse what I can only guess is a massive headache, and get some rest.” Bruce said with a smile.

You nodded and hopped down from the table. Ignoring the hunger pains in your stomach and going straight to your room. Rushing to your bathroom you scrubbed your hands nearly raw trying to get the man’s blood and sweat off. You looked at yourself in the mirror, uncomfortable with what was staring back. You were never the type who wanted to hurt people, you had wanted to become a doctor for crying out loud. But today, you had enjoyed hurting that man, it made you feel powerful, strong. You liked hearing his screams. You turned your shower on, hoping it would clear your mind, sat on your bed in just your towel and fell back, too tired to move. You were woken by screams again. Bucky’s screams. You must not have been asleep long, because your hair was still damp, and your towel was still firmly wrapped around your body. Not bothering to put clothes on you quietly made your way to his room again and calmed his mind. This time was easier and didn’t take as much out of you. Your abilities were certainly growing.

In the weeks that followed you took Bruce’s advice and increased your physical and mental training. Seeing how far you could push your mind, body, and abilities. You no longer needed to touch someone to use your powers. Some you needed to at least be able to see to affect them, except Bucky now. You didn’t even need to be in the same room as him to quiet the nightmares. They were barely able to begin before you quieted them. Like an invisible thread held the two of you together now. His attitude had been changing. Like a weight was being lifted off of him. He smiled more, laughed more, joined the group as a whole more often. More and more you could feel all the hurt he had endured replaced with something else, a sense of calm and belonging. Natasha was the only one who knew the change in Bucky was your doing. That was until one night Steve caught you sitting outside of Bucky’s room. A Blanket draped across your lap, your nose buried in a paper about something called the X-gene. Wondering if it could be the key to understanding your abilities.

“What are you reading?” He asked, sitting down next to you, leaning against the wall.

“An interesting paper that could help explain why I am, the way I am,” you said, setting it down in your lap. “What are you doing up in the middle of the night?”

“Why are you sitting outside of Bucky’s room, looking like it's where you plan to sleep?” He asked back. You stared at him, not really sure what to say, looking down at your hands, almost feeling ashamed that you had been caught doing something wrong. “Does it have anything to do with the fact Bucky’s nightmares have almost stopped and I have been seeing my best friend come back? With what happened with the Hydra agent last month? The bruises on your neck?” You looked up at him shocked. How did he know about the bruises? Had Nat told him? “We saw them when you passed out. Bucky had caught you before you hit the ground and carried you to the med bay. We saw them as Bruce was looking you over. He knew you had been in his room, he knew he must have done it.” Steve explained.

“His screams had woken me, he didn’t know what he was doing, I didn’t want the team finding out, thinking he was crazy and a danger,” you offered.

“How many nights have you sat out here quietly taking care of him?” his eyes looked sad, like he had failed in some way.

“Not as often as when he first arrived.” You looked back down at your hands in your lap “I think I might be able to help him though, to end the nightmares once and for all. To remove what Hydra did.” You confessed. “I’ve been reading and developing my abilities. I think I could remove the programming.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to give him false hope?” Steve asked, searching your eyes.

“I want to at least try and help him. Steve the screams, what he feels all the time, it's overwhelming, like drowning all the time.” You closed your eyes, taking a steadying breath.

“You are a good person Y/N, even if your abilities scare me a little sometimes,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder. “When do you think you would be ready to try?”

“Soon, do you think he will let me? I’ll have to take a walk around his mind, every thought, every memory, every emotion he has. I’ll know it and feel it all.” You asked.

“I don’t know, but we have to at least try.”

You both sat in silence for a little while longer before Steve bid you good night and headed back to his room. Bucky was deep in peaceful sleep, so you made your way back to your own bed. Would he let you help him?

Even without the invisible tether that you felt with him always, you two had grown close over the last month. He pushed you harder than anyone ever had in training. You were grateful to him for it. A friendship was blooming and he was more at ease every day, yet the nightmares always returned, and the constant threat of Hydra always lingered. As long as what they had done to him remained, he would always be at risk and you swore that he would never fall into their hands again and you would protect him at all cost.

Your powers had been steadily growing since the incident with the Hydra agent. You could now walk through someone’s mind like you were watching a movie. Nat had volunteered to let you practice on her, the first few times were difficult. She had lived so many lives through her spying it was hard to see what was true or not, but soon you could flush it all out and even learned how to plant false memories and change the emotions attached to others. You could even leave suggestions for future behavior. Essentially brainwashing them to do whatever you wanted. The first time it happened it made you sick. You erased it from Nat’s mind and felt like you had betrayed her, but if that information got out, that you could mind control people now, bend their minds to your will, there was no telling how people would weaponize that. You didn’t even trust Tony and Steve with that info. God forbid Nick Fury ever learn about it. You saw what being someone’s weapon did to a person and you would not let that happen to yourself.

A few months after that first night Steve caught you outside Bucky’s room he sought you out again, asking if you were ready to approach Bucky with your plan. The Hydra attacks had become more frequent and the last lead you had all those months ago you had unfortunately turned to mush and he was no use in figuring out their plans. He had been secretly sent to a mental facility and you had locked yourself away for a week after hearing the news. You wished you had never received this power, or learned how to use it. It was Bucky who finally pulled you out of the slump. Convinced you that if you didn’t learn to control it and accept it, it would eat away until there was nothing left of you.

“What if I make it worse, or I ruin his mind completely?” you worried to Steve.

“We have to at least try. I hate to say it but as long as his mind is susceptible to Hydra’s influence, he is a liability and in danger and I can’t lose him again.” Steve said, rubbing his hand along his face.

“Lose who?” you both turned and saw Bucky leaning in the open-door frame, arms and legs crossed, looking oh so casual.

“Hey Buck, what are you up to?” Steve asked, giving his friend a smile and hoping he hadn’t heard the conversation.

“Was just passing by,” he said with a shrug.

“Well since you are here there is something Y/N and I would like to talk to you about.” Bucky’s eyes flicked from Steve to you, and you wished the bed would swallow you whole.

“Sounds serious,” Bucky said with a tone that was trying to keep the mood light.

“Well as you know, Y/N powers have been growing, and we think her powers could help reverse what Hydra did to you.” Steve said hoping Bucky would agree without a fight.

“No.” he stated simply

“No?” Steve asked. “Buck we have a chance to get that crap out of your head and you say no?” he was getting angry.

“No, I’m not gonna let Y/N walk around my brain, she’s been through enough, I’m not going to expose her to the crazy that is in there,” He motioned to his head getting more heated. He knew she had been using her powers on him to quite the nightmares, he hoped that she hadn’t gone further than that, trusted her that she hadn’t gone further than that.

“That is shit Buck and you know it,” Steve yelled.

“Hey! Language.” You reprimanded him. “You two will not engage in a screaming match in my room.” You stood and placed yourself between the two super soldiers who were nearly chest to chest at this point. “James, I really think I could help you, I want to help you,” you said, turning to him and he just blinked at you. No one called him James, not in a long time, not even you. Always calling him Barnes or Sarge.

“You can’t know that for sure, I do want to be rid of this but what if it doesn’t work,” What if you can never look at me the same ever again. He wanted to say.

“Will you at least let me try?” You asked, searching his eyes. Forgetting that Steve was in the room anymore. All you felt and saw was Bucky. You wanted to reach a hand out to his face, to try and soothe and comfort him. Steve, however sensing he was not needed or really wanted, quietly slipped from the room.

“What if I hurt you again,” Bucky asked quietly.

“Hurt me, you have never hurt me.” You stated.

“That’s not true, we have never spoken about it, but I know those bruises on your neck were from me. I know you came into my room that night. What were you thinking, I could have killed you.” He sat down on your bed, shoulders hunched, looking at the ground, not able to meet your gaze.

“You did nothing wrong, you didn’t even know you were doing it, so deep in that nightmare. I couldn’t let you lie there and scream.” You said and stood in front of him. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s fine, we will find another way, but know that I will never let anyone or anything hurt you, not even the nightmares.” You said quietly.

Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly. This wasn’t the first time he had touched you. He had laid you flat out a few times in the training room, but this was more… intimate. He was so tired, tired of fighting, tired of not being able to trust himself or his mind. You placed a hand on top of his head and stroked his hair. “Please, let me try.” You asked again. “As long as what Hydra did to you is still in there, you will never find peace. I want to help you find peace and calm.”

“You have already,” he whispered. “I know you what you have been doing almost every night,” He admitted to you and you felt the guilt.

“I’m sorry, I know it is an invasion of privacy, I never went further than quieting the nightmares. I would never…violate you like that.” You told him.

“I know, you are a good person Y/N.” Bucky said looking up at you.

“I know that until Hydra is out of my head, I will be hunted and put the team at risk. If you think you can do this, then let’s do it. Just try not to make me any crazier than I already am” he said, giving in. You sighed in relief hugging him back, standing there and not letting go until he did.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #Avengers #reader insert #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #@mjaudrey @impala1967666 #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #captain america #black widow #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction

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alionne · 3 years ago

Text

3 | Scale

Stormblood spoilers up to & including the level 69 dungeon. 1409 words.

When Alionne first spied the figure, she thought it was a daydream, brought to life by her own desires. An unidentified male insurgent had destroyed the cannon at Specula Imperatoris, Stark had said. Which beggared belief, Alphinaud had pointed out. And Alionne’s thoughts had drifted to one such person, location unknown, with the strength to do such a thing.

Well. Mayhaps not anymore, not without the Eyes of Nidhogg. But those, too, had turned up in Gyr Abania, had they not? Perhaps he’d chased them, and… found the Eorzean Alliance, being attacked by a cannon, and… destroyed it, but without notifying anyone else?

It was the most ridiculously dramatic chain of events Alionne could imagine, which honestly made it sound more and more like Estinien, now that she’d thought about it. So, mayhaps he’d been on her mind while assaulting Castrum Abania. Mayhaps she’d looked for him, even, though if he had been the one to destroy the cannon, he’d certainly have left by now.

She hadn’t been thinking of Estinien in the command room, though— she’d been achingly worried for Alisaie, and then furious at Fordola, and Zenos, baffled by his invitation. She’d hefted Alisaie in her arms, and then looked back for one last glance in the direction Fordola had disappeared, hoping to catch a glimpse of the magitek armor bearing her away.

And instead, she’d seen… well. She couldn’t be sure. But armor did glint in a very particular way, and the shape of it had been so familiar...

Another moment, and it disappeared. She forced her gaze away, back to more important matters—Alisaie might no longer be bleeding out on the floor, but she still needed transport.

But, on the ground, Alisaie safely spirited away, they’d had a lull, the recent battle won, the next one not planned yet. A chance to catch their breath. And Alionne had never been one for resting, and she was curious…

She spies Lyse with Raubahn, which means the girl probably won’t do anything too foolhardy tonight. It takes a few minutes until the new leader of the Ala Mhigan resistance can be pulled aside, but Alionne eventually finds her chance. “Do you still have that climbing gear?”

“The stuff we used for Nyunkrepf’s Hope? I… yes, I do,” says Lyse, confused. “Are you planning another trip? We did just climb it.”

“I was thinking about it,” admits Alionne, though she doesn’t say why. “I’m feeling a little restless, and I thought a short camping trip might be a nice way to tire me out.”

“Shall I come with you, then?” Lyse asks, as if it were already decided, and Alionne scrambles to think of a reason why she should go alone.

“Oh! No need! You’re the new leader of the resistance, you should make yourself available to everyone!” says Alionne, a little too eagerly, she scolds herself. “They’ve known you as a comrade, but I don’t know that they’ve all had the chance to see you as a leader, yet. Or to realize that you’re just as approachable now as you were before, you know?”

“I... suppose that’s true,” says Lyse, reluctantly. “But, you will be careful, won’t you? I’d hate to find you injured, or worse, because a golem got a lucky shot in, or you fell off a cliff.”

“I can handle myself,” Alionne tells her firmly, thinking of several cliffs she’s stepped off of willingly, without issue. Although, don’t tell her that, that’s not going to inspire confidence… instead, she winks at Lyse. “You won’t even notice I’m gone, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that!” Lyse threatens, but she lets Alionne depart Ala Ghiri without further protest.

Retracing her steps is easy, automatic. As Lyse had pointed out, she’d just been here, and it leaves her mind free to wander.

Alisaie, Krile, and Y’shtola are all out of commission… although that feels like an understatement, in Krile’s case. The Resistance has won the Fringes and the Peaks, and no doubt there will be a plan to secure more of Ala Mhigo in the morning. Doma is freed, and Zenos’ attention is… on her, if Fordola’s unnerving eye contact had meant anything, but better her than anyone else.

Like the mysterious assailant who destroyed their cannons, she thinks, and then she’s thinking of Estinien again, as she hitches her rope to the first point Lyse had shown her.

It may not have been Estinien, she reminds herself. It could have been a trick of the light, or another wanderer. Even if it was, there’s no reason to think he’s still lingering here, now that the Resistance has taken Castrum Abania and the region is safe. Most likely, you’ll enjoy a nice climb and enjoy a nice view.

And with that, she pushes the dragoon out of her mind, focusing her attention on the climb. The dust on her palms, the edge of the rock digging into the pads of her fingers, the rough fibers of the rope as she loops it around her arm.

It’s a meditation, though not one that comes easily to her. Her thoughts turn to Fordola’s deep conviction and unnatural speed in the command room, and then she wrests them away, forcing herself to instead consider the cool desert air. Zenos’ “hunt” pops into her mind, and for a moment, she pauses, filled equally with the desire to fight and a worry about the outcome, but a burning in her arms forces her to refocus on the task at hand. Three-quarters of the way up, Alionne pauses on a small outcropping and suddenly thinks that Hien and Aymeric would like each other. If she weren’t so out of breath, she’d laugh at how unexpected, but right, the thought is.

The stars are coming out, and it reminds her of the Steppe and the Churning Mists and Thanalan all at once. The cliff, Alionne reminds herself, again. She feels a pleasant ache in her legs as she gets to her feet.

The last quarter will be slow-going, because even though Alionne’s already scaled this exact cliff in this exact way, it hadn’t been night last time. “What I wouldn’t give for a sodding chocobo right now,” she mutters to herself, and, alright, maybe she’s not trying to meditate anymore. Maybe she’s not avoiding thoughts of Estinien, either.

The thing is, if Alionne were a reclusive dragoon, this is the exact spot she’d hole up for a few days while her friends distracted the Empire. The ruins offer some measure of protection from inquisitive parties, and it’s very, maddeningly, stupidly high, she thinks, glaring at the rock face. Because gods forbid a dragoon stay on the bloody ground like anyone else, assuming there even is a godsdamned dragoon at the top of this godsdamned cliff, which there probably isn’t because Alionne has probably invented him, because she’s been looking for a familiar silhouette on top of every building she’s passed for months, ever since Aymeric had suggested that she’d be the most likely to see him of all of them, because he’s an uncommunicative, reclusive bastard.

And mayhaps frustration has propelled Alionne more quickly than expected, because she’s got a hand atop the cliff, now. The edge is an easy hold, and she lets the rest of her body weight hang, for a moment.

She’s too tired to lie about the feeling fluttering in her breast—she’s nervous. She’s been pretending all evening that it doesn’t matter if she finds him at the top, but she’d clearly come all this way for something. And even if Estinien is up here, she’s only going to find him if he wants to be found. Which he probably doesn’t, or he’d have contacted the Scions, or helped the Resistance, or even just been somewhere vaguely approachable.

You’re being ridiculous, Alionne tells herself, but something fond uncurls within her as she thinks it. It’s nice, to be nervous about something ridiculous, for once, instead of something potentially life- and nation-threatening. She’d climbed all this way, and here she was, hesitating on the very last step, for no good reason.

And just as she’s resolved to move, a hand grasps her wrist and starts to haul her the rest of the way up.

“Only a fool would climb a cliffside like this at night,” a reassuringly familiar voice growls at her.

“And only a fool would be waiting at the top,” she replies sweetly, and finds her feet at last.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #estinien #lyse #me: well let's not lock down ships too early #also me: yeah but wol/aymeric/estinien tho

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thesunsetmeansgoodbye · 4 years ago

Text

Alcina Dimitrescu & Mother Miranda

For her, Mother is this scripture she meditate day and night even if she's no merely answer for her mother's kept prayers. Perhaps, almost..

Alcina silently watch Miranda read the files of her recent experiments, the priestess seem to frown inside the golden mask.

“Basically, some died and the rest turned into Moroaică”.

“Yes, Mother Miranda”. She droop her head aside, the hat hides the sight of her Mother.

“I should’ve known. Next time you waste my time, make sure it’s worthwhile. I had enough of your failures, when you supposed be not.” That's all she heard before the older woman takes its leave. And right now she needed a drink.

Another meeting takes over, Alcina sometimes would catch her mother's eyes closed and looking tired. When she open snap them there this no emotion holds it. Lips secretly pressed to each other, she listens to the discussion like an obedient daughter she always were unless Heisenberg nerved to piss her off.

She hates when Mother favors the other lords whom she considered below to her and Mother Miranda, she hates this unnecessary siblings, they barely interact with each other and she would rather it stay that way.

“I put end to this meeting now, all of you may take your leave.”

Every single one leaves the decrepitude church, Alcina caught the glimpse of her Mother and Donna. She looks like assigned to a task but why only give it when the meeting is done? Alcina could only groan. Mother did not assigned her to anything, did she not trust her anymore?

She follow her mother for everything she ordered her to, even in the things beyond her will. Her recognition means so much for her and from that she will do anything, giving all the colors for all the portraits she needed; a masterpiece to offer her Mother. Just, one perfect vessel.

Despite the devotion she holds to the older woman, there's this one exception, and she be willingly fight the world for her three daughters, just like her Mother.. and she hopes, the edge point will not reach where she needs to break an agreement to the priestess when its already her daughters involved.

“Mother?”.

She gently caress the hair of her youngest that was the head is on her lap, gentle smile formed from the ruddy lips of the countess once soon turn into frown, when the thought came of Mother Miranda doing the same thing on the countess like the daughter she always claim Alcina is to her. But it is a thought that is unlikely to happen.

When Miranda visits the castle once in a while, Alcina decorates the table with expensive fine china and foods all for her mother of course along with her famous wine. Even though Mother Miranda looks not to enjoy any of it more than the reports of experiments she overnight do in the dungeons that often ends to be just nothing but a defect.

When they were settled in their table, Alcina couldn’t stop talking like a child who keeps narrating of how great their day went to its parent. She even brought up some memories she cherished from her once human life, her being a singer and her passion for it but Mother just seems to tolerate of all her talks without uttering a single word back and only emptied her own glass of wine and after the feast the priestess would immediately takes its leave. On the other hand, Alcina only smiled helplessly.

Mother Miranda given her everything, the comfort and answers in life. Given the things her true mother couldn’t and her father would never granted. He never wanted a daughter anyway. She secretly suffered in her noble branch but it’s all over now.

And even Mother had given her all of this, she somehow long for an affection of a parent, something that her wine couldn’t remedy.

She tucked herself onto the large bed, as the same time, she murmured some words of comfort for herself some she could remember her true mother used to say to her, it was hesitant but soothing enough. Tears run from the golden sun eyes.

One meeting, she didn’t noticed any signs of its usual intimidating presence of her Mother, her aura seems to radiate happiness she never saw whenever she was with them. Happiness arouse in her too, she wonder what is the reason behind the bliss visage.

“I’m glad to inform all you that I found the perfect receptacle for our dear Eva,”

Eva. Her true child. Mother Miranda told them she have found the perfect vessel to resurrect her child, not to mention that fact its already dead over a century now. She dared not to speak and get any further in her Mother's bad side. She just sit and listen and only speak when ordered or allowed to.

“That's a very pleasant news, Mother Miranda.”

“Indeed, fiica mea.” She placidly smiled at her, and it warms Alcina's heart.

To every task she was assigned to, she do her best not want to dissapoint her Mother. There's no doubt she would do anything, remain to be her Mother's favorite even if she will have to fuel the fire of her mother roasting the other lords.

“B – but, Mother–“

“Stop the attempts to gloss over your failures Moreau, there's no merit it could do upon you, “ The fish man seems to crestfallen from the words but she just stared, after all, she have no care about them but Miranda and her daughters.

Meanwhile, she looked at Heisenberg who seem on other hand was close to scoffing.

“Hah, that really comes from the person who was also covering up his mistake.”

“Pardon?”.

He pinched his nose, before to speak

“You're just flawed as this grotesque freak! Even worse, so stop self-proclaming yourself to Miranda and keep referring us as a failure when it does also count you as one. Fucking accept it!”

“You– take that back you wrenched!”

“Silence!”.

Both of them retreat, but the palpable tension lingers.

“There's no better than another. You all disappoint me in all ways.”

Hate was born for her Mother's dead daughter, she thinks that this is all her fault and she question why the priestess couldn’t just, move on. Why was it always her? Why can’t Mother see her another daughter, that's right in front of her: alive and well, who would be willingly to fill the loss if needed. She often calls Alcina her child and daughter but neither the words felt like were stuffed. Now she sounded like a child, but she couldn’t resist no longer.

“Why isn’t always not enough?”. Her teeth gritted between the words of her misery.

After she had received her Cadou, Alcina's world began to only revolve of her Mother and following experiments in her dungeon. The cold wind and the flakes from the snow wrapped around her when loneliness and insecurity rose inside her well-being as if wants to make the situation for her worse. After all this time, it will always be Eva who occupied her Mother’s most chapters and she didn’t even bother to look over the pages were Alcina is in it, cursive beautifully written that soon tainted by her own sly tears.

For her, Mother is this scripture she meditate day and night even if she's no merely answer for her mother's kept prayers. Perhaps, almost..

She would sometimes pay a visit to her oldest sister Eve, when there's leisure time just to sit beside the grave without words store to utter for the tomb. Mother did not considered to forbid her adopted children to visit the grave, she even neither said anything about it so the other lords she assume didn’t know where it was in the first place.

But mother doesn’t have to know her visits or will she ever care?

She barely knew what would say to the dead, she did know no single prayer. She didn’t even met the child that was taken too early, was she anything like Mother? Is she like anything template of Mother? Or perhaps her father?

“You must had grown beautiful just like our Mother. C– could you tell Mother not to be too hard on me, when you resurrected again? Soră mai mare..” Because even, she could handle all the pain does not mean she deserves it, right?

She made her way to leave as she gets back to the castle.

Mother Miranda sends her a letter once in a while, when she was not able to come to the castle herself because of her research. The letter contain often of must attain task and criticization. She’d pick up some red pen, aimlessly drawing circles on the back of the letter; frowning. It took her some time before she full the entire back of the paper.

She stopped at the peak of the castle, above her was the sky painted in its greyest shade. She started to shred the paper, the pieces season on the white covered ground. She barely see it land because of the height.

“I've had enough of this".

No! Her daughters.. now gone! That damn Winters! Those three bugs who keeps alive her barely beating heart, taken away from her! How!? How could Mother allowed this to happen? Where is she? The roars of the dragon in its hinted despair did she not heard!? Out of all men she's the only person who can understand, it hurts.. so much.

Yet, no presence of power from the Mother she knew stop the gravity of her downfall.

She is confident to think she's her mother’s favorite but she might hinted it wrong however, the proof of the blessing she casted upon her among the others. Castle, eternal life, obedient daughters did she not? How come she couldn’t accept the affection Alcina returned? Wasn't it enough to cease her mother's insurmountable grief? For a child that was no longer here, she barely tolerate all of it.

She sit and watch her.

“Remember from whence you came".

#alcina dimitrescu #mother miranda #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #parental issues #a song fic I guess #Alcina being a desperately in need for affection of her mother #In the end she got canonically betrayed

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ladyideal · 5 years ago

Text

Dead or Alive

Pairing: Leonard McCoy X Reader

Word Count: 3170

Warnings: cursing, needles, mention of injury, slight argument

Summary: You tried hiding from your boyfriend to avoid a physical. Unfortunately for you, it becomes a ship wide challenge for anyone to bring you down to the medbay. Lo and behold, an accident down in the labs forced you to head to the cursed place. Once Leonard had you within arms distance, you were heading nowhere.

A/n: So this somehow got out of hand, and became *squints* another 2k more than I had intended, I know you’re all disappointed. However, I think I’ll be trying my hand on Jim for the next one, and hope that goes well. Fingers crossed.

(not my gif, credit to the owner ^^)

From the moment your alarm buzzed, you cursed loudly. You groaned awake, dreading the upcoming day. Outside your quarters, Gamma shift was rolling over to Alpha, and everyone buzzed in response. To everyone else, it was a normal day at work on the ship. For you however, it was gonna be a long, dreadful one.

“Computer, what do I have on my schedule today?” You called out from beneath the covers, refusing to get up for the moment.

“Captain, your schedule today lists as follows. At 08:00 to 13:00, there is a meeting with Starfleet Command. From 13:00 to 14:00, you are scheduled to have your latest quarterly physical with Dr. Leonard McCoy at the Medbay. 14:15 to 16:00, there is a meeting with Captain Soliar and Acting Captain Meker on the plans for the upcoming Federation Day Gala. At 22:00 tonight, the delivery would have been successfully sent to Planet 35X. There are no other appointments today. Would you like to reschedule your physical with Doctor McCoy?”

You groaned again. Len would murder you if he learned that you once again, rescheduled for a third time. If he had it his way, he would definitely haul you down to the medbay, with you kicking and screaming. However, it also didn’t help that the rest of the crew had been tracked down by both security and medical personnel and was force marched down to their appointments. You couldn’t really blame them either. Starfleet had a strict physical schedule that all crew had to obey, since everyone was coming into contact with the vast unknown.

You just hated it at a really deep personal level.

“No.”

“However, your meeting with the Admirals could overlap with your slot time. Would you like to reschedule with Doctor McCoy now or later?”

“Later.”

With a pained groan, you rolled out of bed and started your usual morning routine. When that was done, you carefully took off your pressed and sharply creased uniform from a hanger, and some recently washed pants to go with it. Heaven forbid you attended a meeting with crazy old Admirals in nothing less. While you appreciated their ability to make everything as perfect as possible, it was annoying.

Once you checked yourself once more in front of the mirror, you hurried out of your quarters and towards the officer’s lounge, hoping to pick up a quick breakfast. With a cup of coffee in one hand and a banana in another, you settled down in your ready room, ready for the gruesome meeting to get out of the way first.

With the door locked, your comm set on Do Not Disturb, you ran over your notes one last time. Right on the dot of 8:00, you were hailed by Command.

“Captain,” Admiral Smythe greeted.

“Good morning, Admiral,” you replied, taking a long sip of your coffee.

As the hours sluggishly ticked by and you were 110% sure you were going to fall asleep during the meeting, messages from your boyfriend started popping up on your comm. One, then another, and then increased twofold. No doubt you will hear an earful later on.

“Any other questions?” Admiral Smythe finally spoke, nearing the end. You glanced up at the chrom.

13:30 Leonard’s gonna be pissed for sure.

“No sir, I do not,” You spoke, quickly getting to your feet to salute.

“If that’s the case,” Admiral Smythe shuffled his notes. “I bid you a wonderful rest of the day, Captain.”

“You too, sir.”

“Smythe out.”

With that, you collapsed back in your chair, and let out a breath of relief. At the very least, one thing out of your entire day went well. You reached for your comm, and ended the Do Not Disturb notice. It seemed like Leonard was near his comm at the moment as a call immediately came through.

“‘s Y/L/N,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and bracing for the lecture you were sure you were gonna receive.

“Darlin’, it’s,” A pause. “1:35 in the afternoon, planning to salvage what’s left of your appointment?” Leonard lightly replied, but you knew better.

“Len, honey, I literally just got off briefing Command,” you replied, placing an arm over your eyes. “And I have a headache at the moment.”

“So the answer is no?”

You squeezed your eyes shut this time. “I don’t think I can make it.”

Another pause. “Sweetheart, this is the third time I have to reschedule you. This is ridiculous. I thought chasing after Jim was bad, but you, you are making this way more complicated than it has to be. Why is it that the two people that I can tolerate on this damn ship, are both scared of doctors?” Leonard scowled, unimpressed.

“Len-.” You started, hoping to stop him at this pass. If you didn’t stop him now, there would be no other chances.

“You leave me no other choice,” Your boyfriend curtly spoke before dropping the call altogether.

That was never a good sign. A pissed off Chief Medical Officer was not someone you were going to enjoy having to confront. With a shrug, you pushed your thoughts away and made your way towards the lounge, hoping to find lunch.

“Attention all crew members. If anyone can successfully bring the Captain down to medbay by the end of Beta, dead or alive, will be awarded 100 credits for their efforts. I repeat, 100 credits will be given to those that bring the captain to me by the end of Beta shift. McCoy out.”

You froze in front of the replicator as you listened to Leonard placing a bounty on your head, and immediately missed the beep sounds indicating the food was ready.

Well shit.

Pulling the sandwich onto your tray, you watched as all heads turned to you. With a defiant glare, you returned their gazes until you were left alone. Looking rather tired, you happily started on your lunch. Almost instantly, your comm went off as it flooded with messages. Rolling your eyes, you dialed the volume down, not wanting to disturb other crew.

Last you remembered, there was a bet going on within the ship, to see whether it was you or Jim that was the last to get their physical. Going by Leonard’s scathing tone, you assumed that you were the last. You could practically his exasperation and anger on you, despite him being a couple floors down. The moment you were done eating, you bolted to the bridge, a rather safe haven from too many wandering eyes.

“Captain,” Spock stood as you entered the bridge, ignoring the brief glances from other crew members.

“Spock,” You greeted, striding over to his console to quickly brief him on the meeting with the admirals.

As you answered his questions, you noticed Nyota was watching the pair of you with an impassive face. Inwardly, you sighed. Sitting back down in your chair, you heard her chuckle from behind.

“Only you this time?” The lieutenant spoke brightly. “A hundred credits is quite tempting.”

You groaned. “Not you too, Nyota.”

“It’s not me,” She mentioned, tilting her head to the side to get a better visual of the gaggle of crew members crowding outside of the doors. “You’ve got some publicity going on out there.”

“Wonderful,” You grumbled out, frowning down at the amount of messages you’ve accumulated within just thirty minutes of the announcement. “You’d think something was drastically going on to warrant this amount of messages.” She merely chuckled at your disgruntlement.

“Dating a ship doctor not enough to lessen the fear?”

“It’s the opposite with him,” You scowled at another incoming message from a crew member that their friend was in need of assistance, and pursed your lips when she laughed.

It was going to be one, heck of a long day.

Yet grudgingly, you had to admit that the messages were getting creative as the hours went by. Messages ranged from how security had found an unruly crew member at the holodecks to how Scotty was missing a piece of equipment down at Engineering and needed to turn the ship around - that one you had to call Scotty ahead to confirm.

Leonard was, undoubtedly, furious at his girlfriend, but kept his anger in check around his nurses. Glancing up from his PADD, he noticed a lieutenant wringing his hands in front of him as though he had something to say.

“Doctor, I couldn’t help but notice that you were having trouble bringing the Captain down. Perhaps I can help,” The lieutenant said.

“Captain’s an eel. It takes a certain amount of skill to do some eel catching,” Doctor McCoy gruffly answered. “If I couldn’t get her down, what makes you think you can?”

The lieutenant grinned. “A little deceiving and some action will have her willingly come down, doctor.”

Leonard snorted. “If you think you can do it, then be my guest. But don’t be disappointed if you can’t.”

“I have faith,” The lieutenant departed shortly after.

The doors behind you opened, and you shook your head, wondering who in the world it could be this time. “Permission to enter the Bridge, Captain?” Came an unfamiliar voice.

You glanced over to your right, pulling away from your reports for a moment. “Permission granted. How may we help you?”

You swung your chair around to meet the newcomer with an eyebrow raised. A lieutenant in science blue stepped in, hesitating over his words. “Lieutenant-?”

“Rivelle, Lieutenant Rivelle, ma’m,” He approached the Captain’s chair. “Captain, we’ve just finished making an antidote to those that were affected during the last mission. I would love to have you come and take a look at my report first hand.”

You turned your head back over to where Spock was, and saw that he too was listening into the topic with a perplexed look on his face.

“I’m sure Mister Spock would be better suited to read over it then I do,” You started.

“I understand, Captain,” The Lieutenant interrupted. “However as the commanding officer aboard the ship, aren’t you supposed to be concerned with the well being with the health of your crew? Surely that matters most to you.”

You raised an eyebrow at Spock, who merely mirrored your action. Others around the bridge, you could tell, were doing their best to not eavesdrop. Caught between duty, you nodded slowly to his words.

“I can swing by the labs, and take a look at the antidote later,” You bargained, pursing your lips at the chrom up above. You could tell the Lieutenant was going to interject, so you hurried over your next words. “I do have a meeting with two other captains in a moment, but I’ll head down when I’m done.”

“It’ll only take but a few minutes, ma’m. Surely you could spare me around five minutes?” The lieutenant pleaded.

Although you looked rather unconvinced by his words, you heaved a sigh. “Alright,” you rose, grabbing both your PADD and your comm. “Spock, you’ve got the conn.”

Sending a message to the other captains that you wouldn’t be present for the meeting, you listened to the Lieutenant explain his findings as you walked through the corridors to the science labs.

“So you think it’ll all work out?” You asked, stopping in front of the lieutenant’s lab. It was empty, save for an ensign working on the right side of the room.

“Hey Ben,” Lieutenant Rivelle spoke up, crossing into the threshold.

The ensign jerked up in surprise, and turned to meet the newcomers. With his eyes wide, he moved to get off his seat, only to miss his footing. In horror, you watched as the ensign crashed to the ground.

“Ben!”

“Ensign!”

Both of you rushed towards the fallen ensign as he struggled to sit up for a moment.

“Ben, are you okay?” The lieutenant supported him up. “Was quite a nasty fall there.”

You crouched down beside him, looking over for any signs of injury.

“Am fine, just exhausted,” The ensign must have caught you worried look. “It’s fine, captain. I don’t need to go to the medbay.”

“Well I certainly can’t have my scientists crashing down from exhaustion,” You responded lightly.

“Captain, I-.”

“Medbay or the brig, your choice,” You coolly spoke.

Looking rather defeated, the ensign nodded in understanding. With you on the right and the lieutenant on the left, the three retraced your steps back to the turbolift.

“A whole bunch of people down there are waiting for the antidote, counting on us to save their lives,” The ensign muttered along the trip, answering your question from earlier. “The faster my team could get it done, the faster they can get back to their lives.”

“I understand,” You spoke sagely. “We just want the best for the rest of the crew.”

“Yes captain.”

Crossing into medbay, you watched as Christine hurried over, looking between the three of you in confusion. “What happened here?”

“Saw the ensign fell from his post,” You explained, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched the nurse led the ensign to a nearby biobed.

“Oh dear,” You heard Chris murmur, turning the bed on and hurrying over to grab a doctor.

“Good thing we came in time,” Lieutenant Rivelle spoke from your left. Behind your back, he gave a quick thumbs up to the Ensign.

You made a noise in assent, and unraveled yourself to look down at your comm when it beeped a couple times in succession.

“Captain, Lieutenant,” Doctor M’Benga greeted, striding over. “Christine mentioned that you saw the ensign fall to the ground?”

“Doctor M’Benga,” You returned the greeting.

“Yes, doctor,” The blue shirt scientist spoke.

Although you swore that the doctor held your gaze a little longer than usual, he moved forward to tend to the ensign.

“I should get back,” You mumbled, watching the messages on your comm scroll.

“Oh look who we have here,” A dark drawl drew out, as you froze in your spot. Your eyes widened with every passing second at the implication of where you were. “About time. I didn’t think you’d pull your little stunt off, Lieutenant.”

Slowly, you looked up from the screen, glancing between the murderous look on your boyfriend and the gleeful grin on scientist. “Hold on, wait. So you’re telling me that, this was all a lie to get me here?”

You frowned, setting your stern gaze on the now squirming Lieutenant.

“He took a risk, and earned his reward,” Doctor McCoy tapped away at his PADD for a moment before looking back up triumphantly. "All yours, Lieutenant. Now where were we again, Y/N?”

“Thanks, doc,” The scientist called behind his shoulder as he scurried out of medbay.

“Ummm, I really should get going, got a meeting and everything,” You winced as your comm beeped again, and watched with wide eyes as Leonard rolled his eyes.

“Meeting or not, you can’t wiggle yourself out of a physical,” He tugged you firmly along by the elbow to an empty exam room.

“Len, I really have to-,” you were stopped by a sharp glare..

“Sit.”

Wordlessly, you sat on the edge of the biobed, listening as it started tracking your vitals. You watched Leonard move about the room and opening up drawers for the tools he needed, swinging your legs restlessly. This was not how you imagined your day to be like. Exhausting, but not withering under the doctor’s annoyed expression.

You opened your mouth to try again, but was yet again, interrupted by him placing his tools down.

“If you’re going to say anything along the lines of how you were going to show up on time to your appointment, you can save it,” He growled, looking up at your numbers.

“I-,” You stopped, and pursed your lips, not entirely sure how to respond to that.

“That’s what I thought,” The doctor reached for your hand, fingers expertly searching for your pulse point, and stilling against the steady heartbeat. Irritation and exasperation rolled off him at your reluctance in stepping in for an appointment. Despite being furious, his hands were still ever careful, a direct opposite of what he certainly was feeling.

“Any tenderness or pain?”

“No.”

“No…,” The doctor trailed off, catching your fiery gaze aimed at him.

“No. Doctor,” You huffed out, as though each word cost you.

“Lay back,” He indicated, turning away from you for a moment. “Perhaps next time, we wouldn’t have to go through this again.”

You laid back, seething as his displeasure. “Yeah, totally making this fun and exciting,” you snarked back, knowing full well that you were now playing with fire.

Doctor McCoy stilled. “Now now darlin’, I’m sure you don’t want to make this harder than it should be, do you?” He threatened, maybe even promised.

You stared up at the ceiling, counting the rivets to pass the time. Finally he turned back around, fixing his gloves once more. You refused to watch him as he gently poked and prodded at your lymph nodes and abdomen, searching for any trouble under the skin. Perhaps it would be easier to just along with the flow, and quit fighting it.

“Better,” Leonard spoke in your silence. You grumbled wordlessly, but decided not to poke the angry bear anymore. Once done, he extended a hand, watching you with his signature raised eyebrow.

You shook your head, lowering your shoulders in defeat. Taking his hand, you pulled yourself back up to a sitting position. As he pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and putting the ear tips in, his eyes flickered once more at you for consent. Accepting your fate, you nodded, giving him the go ahead to start.

After a couple deep breaths, you finally spoke up. “So how am I?”

“Nothing’s wrong really. You’re in tip top shape at the moment, will have to see what the labs return later on,” You boyfriend replied, sliding a collection tube into a lancet. Half-heartedly, you carefully rolled up your sleeve.

Swabbing a piece of skin off, you stared at your fingers, bracing yourself for the pain.

“Deep breath,” He instructed.

Taking a deep breath, you winced at the sharp tip of the lancet taking in a sample of your blood. Within another heartbeat, the lancet was withdrawn and a band aid in its place.

“Can I get my lollipop now?” You asked, pulling your sleeve back down. In front of you, Leonard snorted loudly as he marked the collection tube to be later sent to the lab.

“You? I think I deserve one after all that you’ve put me through,” He smirked at you. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart.”

You were about to hop off, but stopped at his words. “I thought.”

“There’s a whole row of hypos right there with your name on each one,” Leonard pointed, smirking as your face fell. “Got a whole buncha vaccines that everyone needs before we can clear the Alpha quadrant.”

You groaned, residing to your fate.

God help you.

Tags: @cuddlememerrick @mapachefaerie @floreatetona (if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know)

#here we are #the whole list again #haha #leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #bones mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #star trek aos #deb writes

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just-another-author-i-guess · 5 years ago

Text

The Unholy

Warnings: she/her pronounced reader, very detailed making out, hickeys, some dry humping, Tae and Hobi being horndogs, mentions of blood and biting, i was too lazy to edit it through so yeah

Pairing: bts ot7 x reader, nun! reader, princess! reader, vampire! Jin x reader, hybrid! Namjoon x reader, hybrid! Yoongi x reader, vampire! Hoseok x reader, vampire! Jimin x reader, hybrid! Taehyung x reader, hybrid! Jungkook x reader

Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

Authors note: uuugh so part 2 is finally up! I’m sorry I’m so bad at getting things done, please don’t yell at me); anyways I’ve been really excited to make this! But tbh, I have no idea where this story is going, this is just kinda what pops into my head! But still, I hope you’ll enjoy the story nonetheless!

(Updates; every Sunday)

Summary:

The king and queen, your mother and father, rules the southern kingdom. The eastern and the western are ruled by kings and queens alike, but the northern are ruled by the most unholy of creatures. Or so you’ve been told.

Every citizen in the three kingdoms, have been warned about the creatures of the north, and it is with good reason they’re all terrified. All your life, your parents have tried to keep the knowledge of the northern creatures from you, but that just made you more curious.

Everyday, you would sneak down to the castle library, and read everything you could about the north, wanting to know the secret behind the unholy land. That of course didn’t go well with your parents, and when they found out they decided to send you to the most holy of places, to forget about everything you’ve read. One of the biggest church organizations in the south agreed to take you in, to rehabilitate you and learn you that you should never question such things as the northern creatures.

By day, you follow the strict prioress around as she lectures you about the holy and the unholy, and by night, you have to go on patrol alone through the church as a punishment for reading about the unholy.

But one night, everything changes, when you find the prioress dead, with bite marks all over her body. Of course, you have read about this, and you know exactly what killed her. But what happens when that exact creature you’ve read about, shows up right in front of you?

(please dm me of you want to be added)

(Also I am so sorry if I missed someone)

Taglist:

@sweetcrvture @boononx @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @karissassirak @bvblackarmy @queenbianca-7 @someslightobsessions

The carriage bumped yet again, and you flew forward for the fifth time already. Quickly, steadying yourself with a string of embarrassed coughs.

Not a word had been spoken between you and Seokjin, since the arrival of the black carriage you now were sitting in. You weren’t quite sure were the carriage at come from, and how the driver knew that it was needed; you weren’t even sure it was actually Seokjin’s, but anyhow you ended up sitting stiffly inside it, trying not to stare too much at the vampire before you.

He hadn’t made a move the entire ride, not even a facemucsle did he move, the only thing showing that he was actually alive and not a statue, being his Adam’s apple that would bop almost violently every few minutes. You wondered what he was thinking about.

Your eyes followed the almost hypnotic motion of his Adam’s apple, focusing intently on the way it seemed to grow bigger in his throat before helplessly plopping down again in a swollowing motion.

Your mind instantly flashed to when he had taken your blood, just a couple hours earlier, how it must have bopped even more violently as he sank big mouthfuls of your precious red liquid down.

The thought made a strange sensation shoot through the two wounds on your neck, your hand absentmindedly coming up to delicately brush your fingertips against the slowly healing surface. The pain that once had almost numbed your entire body, was now a dull ache. It felt almost nice, the throbbing sensations in your wound running out to the rest of your body, feeling almost like a second heart.

You noticed how the two wounds seemed much warmer than the rest of your body, swallowing hard, as the tips of your fingers seemed to create a delicious friction against the itchy exterior of the wounds.

The nice feeling, making heatwaves rediate off the wounds, shooting directly down into your belly, creating even more warmth.

Slowly, you let your fingertips slip away from the wound, as your hand tiredly fell down into your lap, where the other one was already resting. Carefully, you tipped your head, leaning it against the cool window, trying to escape some of the heat that had now also travelled to your head.

You let your eyelids fall down and rob you off your vision, as the weight of the last few hours began to weigh you down. So much had happened, and so much was about to happen, but one thing was for sure; you could never return to your old life again.

You knew that if your parents, or anyone else found out you had willingly ventured into the north, and not even alone but accompanied by one of the creatures from said place, you would be executed the moment you sat foot in one of the other regions.

The princess who traveled to the land of her kingdoms most feared enemy.

The thought of worry were quickly being pushed aside, by the continuing thumps and throbs shooting through you like a clock. You didn’t get scared by how hard the throbs had gotten, quite on the contrary it calmed you and you let out a content sigh, focusing completely on the way your wound warmed you up.

Not long after, your eyes fluttered for the last time, and your breathing became heavier by the second, lulling you into a peaceful, heavy sleep, your mind going out like a light as drifted off to nothingness.

You awoke by the feeling of cold hands gripping you, and soft, smooth fabric against your hands, as you subconsciously gripped it harder, sliding your fingers over it.

Your mind was foggy, as you tried to open your eyes, feeling like you should be alarmed by your current situation, but your mind wouldn’t let any worrying feelings shine through, and the only feeling there was, were the warmth you had fallen asleep with, accompanied by the cold hands locked around you.

Slowly, tiredly, your eyes fluttered open, and you were met by the mop of Seokjin’s black hair, as he stood bend over you, trying to as carefully as possible, to tuck your body into the awaiting bed.

He felt so cold. Why was he cold?

Worryingly, you furrowed your eyebrows, mind still fuzzy as you tried to figure out how he was so incredibly cold, and why you were so amazingly warm.

“Lie down. Sleep. I’ll be back soon, don’t leave this room, understood?”

He asked, face expressionless, as he let you drop down into the soft pillows and blankets, merely nodding in response, as the bed consumed your body whole, making you even more tired and fuzzy, fog already clouding your eyes.

“Understood?”

He asked again, tone more commanding this time, and you wanted nothing more than to answer him, like you would of it weren’t for the fog completely numming your brain.

“..yes.”

With slurred words, you almost vomited the words out, and watched as he nodded once, before turning to leave. You felt like crying, as he slowly disappeared, trying to remember how to beg him to stay. You couldn’t remember the words, you couldn’t remember any words really, only pathetically lifting your hand from the pillows, making grabby motions towards his back.

The further he got from you, the clearer your mind got, until you could remember everything vividly, how he had sucked you almost dry, how he had killed all those men on the square and how he had forbid you to leave the room just a couple minutes ago.

You sat up in the bed, the tiredness disappearing along with the fuzzyness. You exhaled, a breath you didn’t even know you had been holding, as you carefully swung your legs over the side of the big, queen sized bed, freeing yourself of the almost suffocating, dark red covers.

What had just happened?

Did Seokjin do something to you? You were almost sure he did, but what exactly did he do?

You pressed your palm against your forehead, sticky from sweat, as a pounding began, feeling like your brain slammed against your skull with every thud of your heart.

You groaned, and stood up fully, to slowly walk yourself over to a full body mirror in the corner.

You gasped.

You looked like you had been dragged through a battlefield, tied to a wild horse. You black dress was ripped and dirty, blood splatters everywhere, especially visible on the white sleeves of the dress you wore under. Your hair that was once pinned back neatly, looking almost like a lions mane, all tangly and big. But worst of all your face, you were pale, white as a ghost, with multiple bruises covering you, trailing downwards to the bitemarks on your neck, two red dots almost glowing red, but not leaking blood anymore.

You sighed in annoyance, trying to comb your hands through your hair, fingers instantly getting stuck, ripping painfully at your roots.

You gave up, just as your stomach began to grumble impatintly. You began to contemplate, the last time you had gotten food was the morning before your night shift with the prioress, which was about two days ago.

Surely, Seokjin wouldn’t leave you here to starve?

Restlessly, you began scanning the area for something eatable, which you found none. It wasn’t that the room lacked anything, it had almost too much, but the only thing you could spot was something that looked suspiciously a lot like alcoholic drinks standing on a table in the corner.

He said he would be back soon, right?

You thought back, trying to remember his words, maybe he’ll bring food?

With an annoyed huff, you slumped down on the bed, your dress sprawling across the silk sheets, the most illogical solution would be to wait. And so you did.

But a few minutes soon turned into hours in your head, and your tummy continued to grumble unhappily.

And so at last, you decided it would be best to go look for food yourself, doing exactly the opposite of what Seokjin had ordered you to do.

Your fingers curled around the golden handle, and you hesitated a moment before slowly turning it, deciding if this was really worth it. But surely Seokjin wouldn’t have abandoned you, if there really was something dangerous outside. You shook the thought off you, before stepping out into a beautifully decorated hallway.

You looked down, where you could see another hallway and a staircase forming, a smile curling on your lips. The room you had been staying in, was located at the end of a fairly long hallway, littered with other rooms alike, but in your rush to fill your empty belly you didn’t have any time to explore further.

Lifting your dress up, you began carefully walking down the staircase, afraid you might trip in the long garment, alarming whoever else was in the house, which to you seemed like a very bad idea.

The big staircase, let down to what seemed to be the main entrance of the house, or should you say mansion, you were in. You stood there a little, unsure of where to go amongst the many doors, rooms and hallways, when your eyes landed upon another staircase, leading down to a room that you could only assumed was the kitchen, or at least some kind of food storage.

Your stomach grumbled in response, and you were quick to make your way down the stairs, cool air hitting your face the further you got down to the cellar.

The cellar were covered in all consuming darkness, expect for the candles hanging far apart on the stone wall, reminding you too much of the church where you had met Seokjin just a couple hours ago.

Grabbing your skirt once more, hoisting it up just above your ankles, you began to hastily walk further into the room. After just a few meters, your were met with a big door, slowly pushing it open, your eyes shined with delight, when you were met with a big kitchen before you.

Luckily, windows were installed into the walls, so natural daylight shined through, lighting up the big kitchen, which to your disappointment seemed to be almost emptied of all eatable things.

Your belly growled angrily, as you began to sulk, desperately going through empty cabinets and closets. Suddenly, a big barrel cut your eyes, and you internally prayed that just the smallest crumbs of something worth eating would be stored in there.

You quickly ripped the lid off, only to take a few steps back in horror. The barrel was filled to the brim, with something way worse than you could imagine, at was filled with red, metallic smelling blood. You dropped the lid, with a loud thud, echoing through the halls of the empty kitchen.

You suddenly felt sick, thinking about how much blood was in there, and how many people that must have died to fill it. You could have been one of those people. Suddenly, the idea of coming here didn’t seem so good, now that you knew you could be turned into a barrel filled with blood at any moment.

“Why can’t the brat get it himself?”

A deep, unfamiliar voice suddenly ripped through the silent, making you freeze in your spot and your heart race in your throat.

“He’s sick, you know that,”

A second voice responded, and you quickly began to look around for a hiding place, putting the lid back on the barrel, eyes frantically scanning the place as voices and footsteps approached you.

“I know, but-“

The voice stopped abruptly, as both males reached the door, already unlocked, and instantly spotted you, trying to hide yourself inside a cabinet.

With big eyes, you stared at them, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, scared out of your mind, for what they would do. Maybe they were the reason you had to stay in the room, maybe they were dangerous? Your heart pumped in your chest, and you were sure that they both could here the blood splashing around inside your body.

One of them, the slightly taller one inhaled deeply, looking directly at you with a look that spiraled between intense hunger and confusion. You knew the game was over for you, and decided that if they were to kill you right here and now, you would at least crawl out from the cabin first.

“Taehyung, I know what you’re thinking, don’t,”

The other male, put his hand on Taehyung’s arm, sniffing around the room himself. You noticed how both of them got a strained look on their pale faces, looking like they were about to swallow everyone and everything whole.

They were wearing similar clothes, dark robes, also similar to what Seokjin had been wearing, both of them had jet black hair, the closer you got, the more you noticed the unmistakable beauty of both of them, skin just as white as Seokjin’s, your mouth suddenly went dry. They couldn’t be the other rulers Seokjin had told you about, could they? They sure did look like they both belonged on a throne, mighty and intimidating.

“She looks like a scared bunny,”

Taehyung mused, a dangerous grin stretching his plump looking lips, completely ignoring the other, taking a step forward, while you hesitantly took a step back.

“Who are you? And why are you here?”

The male you still didn’t know the name of, swallowed hard, taking a step towards you as well, before he spoke, eyes everting from you to glare at the barrel by your side instead.

“I-I’m (y/n), Seokjin brought me here,”

Your voice was just above a whisper, breath coming out short and laboured, as you felt the warmth from the one called Taehyung emit off of him and creep around you like a suffocating blanket, strangely he wasn’t cold as Seokjin but warm, even warmer than you.

Taehyung closed his eyes and let out a hum, gradually stepping closer to you, backing you up against to counter as the other male slowly followed.

“Shit, Taehyung we can’t- you can’t, she’s hyung’s,”

He swallowed harshly, making Taehyung groan, a sound that sent chills down your spine, as you felt his breath hit your face.

“Hyung can share, Hoseok. He shouldn’t be this selfish, locking her in a room, forgetting to pay proper attention to her,”

Taehyung snapped, fists curling around the counter on either side of you.

Hoseok, looked at you with hazy eyes, stepping up besides Taehyung and completely caging you against the counter.

“Poor little bunny, did Seokjin neglect you?”

Taehyung pouted af you, mockingly, a dangerous shine in his eyes, as he looked down at you, pupils blown wide.

You swallowed, looking away from Hoseok to stare up at Taehyung’s crimson orbs, and when he smiled again, you saw not only one, but two sets of fangs, he seemed a lot different from both Hoseok and Taehyung, but somehow still the same.

Suddenly, Taehyung leaned down, nosing viscously up and down the side of you neck where Seokjin at bit you, inhaling and exhaling deeply, pressing his body into yours.

He let out a loud groan into your neck, pressing a open mouthed kiss to your two wounds, making you slightly shudder, contemplating wether to push him away or pull him in.

“She smells so sweet, I bet she tastes even better,”

Taehyung drawled into your neck, as you shut your eyes tightly, and desperately tried not to enjoy the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on your neck, but holy hell, it was one of the best feeling you had ever expirenced.

Hoseok groaned loudly, somewhere behind you, sniffing the air close to you, licking his lips with a torn expression.

“T-Taehyung, we should stop, hyung’s going to kill us-“

Taehyung cut him off with a sharp growl into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss to your wound.

“I don’t care what hyung’s gonna do, just smell the air, she was made to be fed on by us,”

Taehyung whined, slowly straightening himself up, so he once again was on eyelevel with Hoseok. Silently, he took Hoseok’s hand and placed in over your two bite wounds, licking his lips viciously.

Hoseok groaned again, strained and torn, as he finally got a good glance at you. He felt bad for you, he really did, he wanted to help you out of here, or at least offer you some food, but the intense flames of lust swallowing him allowed him nothing, but to feed from you like he was meant to. He was meant to feed from you, and you were meant to be fed on.

“She smells too much like Seokjin,”

Hoseok finally complained, the torn expression long gone and replaced by the hunger of a beast.

“Let’s change that, yeah? She should smell like us, she were meant to be ours,”

Taehyung growled, and turned his lustful gaze towards you.

“Would you like that, bunny? Would you like to be properly fed on, and properly cared for? Would you like to smell like us, let everyone know who you belong to?”

Taehyung’s voice came out husky and even deeper and raspier than before, as his wide smile and intoxicating eyes filled your mind, and the only thing you could do was helplessly nod.

Seokjin wouldn’t mind, right? Like Taehyung said, he could share.

“I need you to say it bunny,”

Taehyung’s eyes were closed, brows furrowed as he desperately held himself back, and you swallowed again, hard, making eye contact with Hoseok and slowly nodding.

“Y-yes, I would like that,”

You breathed, and immediately, Taehyung grinned at you, lifting you up like you weighted nothing, and almost slamming you down on the counter, quickly stepping between your legs and grabbing your wrist.

Hoseok stepped closer from the other side, slowly sliding his long, cold fingers around your hips, gripping hard and kneading the flesh just above your bottom to hold you in place, as he began to kiss and suck on your neck like a man possessed, making a galaxy of purple and blue bruises appear.

You let out a little squeal, as Taehyung grabbed your wrist, and extended your arm, kissing all the way from the top to the bottom, leaving hot trails of salvia all the way down to your wrist.

Hoseok began to suckle particularly hard right where your neck meets your shoulder, and you had to fight the urge to moan at the sudden sensation, instead letting out a breathy whine, as he tilted your head a little to the side, sharp fangs poking your fragile skin.

Taehyung did the same with your wrist, tongue running all over before his two pairs of fangs sharpened, and he bit down, sinking his fangs into your wrist.

This time, the pain you were prepared for didn’t come, instead the sensation of blood flowing through you and into him filled you, making you let out a sudden moan at the surprising pleasureble sensation.

You felt Taehyung smirk as he sucked, groaning and panting like a animal, only spurring your quiet moaning on, as you lost yourself in the feeling of him.

That’s when Hoseok decided it was his turn, nosing up your neck, and planting hot, open mouthed kisses all the way down leaving a shiny path of salvia, and he finally bit down right at the base of your neck, making you cry out in pleasure, even surprising yourself by how loud you were.

His fangs sank in your neck smoothly, sinking as deep as they could, until his gums hit your neck, and you shuddered. You felt their salvia mix with your blood, as they lapped up everything they could, and you could almost feel how good you tasted on their tongue, how well they were being fed by you.

They continued to suck your life essence, only being spurred on by your small moans and whines, as you reached out to grab what you could; their hair, and slightly tucking, the pleasure almost overwhelming you.

They only stopped, when their cheeks were nice and round, and they both looked and felt well fed, more alive.

Hoseok was the first one to part from you, the feeling of his fangs sliding slowly out of the fresh made wound, making you cry out again, as he with half lidded eyelids and bloodstained lips, delicately curled his long fingers around your chin, turning your head to him and kissing you deeply.

The kiss took you by surprise, but not that you minded, instantly you let go of Taehyung’s hair to grip Hoseok’s hair tightly, and tugging him closer, closer, closer.

Hoseok’s soft tongue poked at your bottom lip, and you instantly opened up for him, tasting your own blood on his tongue, tasing how good you were for him, letting him feed on you. Unholy slurping noises escaped the both of you, and you moaned more and more into the kiss, forgetting that you were sitting with too vampires in a underground kitchen, in the middle of a land where humans like you would surely be eaten alive is anyone saw you.

“Hoseok,”

You whined, as he quickly parted from you, a string of salvia connecting the two of you, as he looked at you with a burning desire, igniting all sorts of flames in your lower belly, and you wanted more, more, more.

Taehyung, suddenly jealous with the attention you have Hoseok, parted from your wrist, as he began to abuse your neck with his rough kisses, biting, licking, sucking, making you moan out his name instead, as he reached down and wrapped your legs around his waist, hips pressing against yours.

Hoseok resumed kissing you, lips smoothly gliding over yours, swallowing every moan and noise you made, as Taehyung began to slowly, but harshly rut himself against your clothed heat.

First, you felt Taehyung’s hardness against your core, but then you began to feel Hoseok desperately rutting his own member against your other thigh, whines and groans leaving him.

You began to almost pant, thinking of how they might just take you right here, in the kitchen.

They seemed to both battle each other, who could get the loudest moans from you. When Hoseok had made you moan and whine, Taehyung went harder and faster with his hips making you cry out louder, and you were sure that by now, all residence of the house had heard you, but the three of you were too lost to really care at this point, only craving more, more, more.

Just as Taehyung began to lift up your many skirts, and feel up your legs, the door slammed against the wall, and both Hoseok and Taehyung hazely craned their necks back to see the interrupter, making you let out a whine of protest.

“Stop it, both of you,”

Seokjin’s sharp voice cut through the air, instantly making both boys straighten their posture, looking shamefully at the floor.

“I sent you to get blood for Jeongguk, and when you don’t return after almost thirty minutes I expect you to be hurt, or lost, but here you two idiots are, trying to shimmy your way into my bunny’s dress?”

He spat, full of venom, as he looked angrily at your almost fucked out expression, eyes glossy and hickeys littering your neck, and the little bit of exposed skin on your chest.

“Come on, Hyung! She smelled so good, we couldn’t resist, why can’t you just share?”

Taehyung whined, voice still thick with lust, as he now could smell both your blood and arousal, Seokjins nose flared.

“She’s my feeder, and you two dipshit’s nearly drained her, look at her,”

Seokjin gestured to you, even paler than before, due to the loss of blood.

“Not fair! You already drank from her yesterday, we’re hungry too hyung,”

Taehyung continued to whine, while Hoseok just stood there, already knowing from the start that he was gonna get in trouble.

“You know how it is, Taehyung, you’re better off with animal blood, she’s my only feeding source,”

Seokjin sounded more tired than angry now, bags under his eyes that definitely weren’t there yesterday.

“But hyung-“

Taehyung protested, but was quickly cut off by Seokjin.

“Enough. Go to your rooms, both of you. I’ll send Namjoon or Yoongi to get you later,”

Seokjin turned to you, both boys angrily stomping out the door, and you swallowed, prepared for what was about to come.

“And as for you, didn’t I tell you to stay in my room?”

He asked, voice cold and eyes hard as he looked at you, like you were a ruined toy, stepping closer, taking the spot between your legs were Taehyung once stood.

You nodded, slowly.

“Y-yes, sorry, I-“

“Spare me your apology, there’s a meal waiting for you back in my room, I’ll escort you this time, make sure you don’t run in to anyone else.”

He replied coolly, wrapping his arm tightly and forcefully around you waist, hoisting you down from the counter, and setting a quick pace, which you almost had to run to follow along with, his arm never leaving your waist as the two of you made your way upstairs to his room.

..to be continued

#i hope this is okay #the unholy #bts vampire au #bts fantasy au #bts prince au #jung hoseok x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #vampire seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bts ot7 #ot7 x you

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sparklydreamies · 5 years ago

Text

Best Shot ~Ch 4

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6700+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about.

Main themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

MASTERLIST

a/n: I guess I’m making his parents worse than I planned, I apologize for that ddnvm,, also Hyunjin’s a big cutie and I will love him forever

CHAPTER 4

Surprisingly, there are some people who enjoy high school. Some people wake up every day, content in their own life and surroundings, happy to go to school to their abundance of friends, fully enjoying and taking advantage of their limited youthful years. Some people are able to live their teenage years happily, comfortable with themselves. Unsurprisingly, they were a very rare breed.

High school, for most kids, is not like they see in the movies. It isn’t filled with parties, good friends, romance or happiness, but is instead filled completely with overwhelming school work and the burden of self discovery. The feeling of comfort in one’s own skin long gone as people work to construct how they wish to be seen in the eyes of their friends. The big secret that they don’t tell you in movies is that nobody loves themselves completely. You may be happy with your personality or physical appearance, but everybody has just that one thing about themselves that they can’t help but want to conceal in a box, never to be seen by other people.

For example, Jisung didn’t want to like boys. There was no reason that he couldn’t have been interested in girls, with their soft curves, full lips, and pretty faces. He should have been like his friend Felix, who would willingly leave Jisung stranded in some desolate, dusty desert somewhere if it meant that he could have a shot with a college girl.

Felix was the straightest boy Jisung knew. There was no way in hell that Jisung would ever feel very comfortable telling Felix his secret; he’s too worried that Felix would think he’s abnormal or strange. Although the more Jisung thinks about it, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure Felix would be wrong.

Jisung was used to the guilty feeling that bloomed deep in his chest when he thought about telling his family. His homophobic, conservative family. Lord knows Jisung has sat through way too many nights of hearing his father shouting slurs and making offensive comments at the television, or at his friends, who often would laugh and retort with an insult of their own.

Thinking about how his mother would react did nothing to help cool the fire that was burning his lungs. What would she blame it on? Where would she ship him off to in the hopes of changing his views and correcting his disorder? Jisung’s mind raced as he thought of what he would have to endure, all for the sake of his mother’s reputation. Heaven forbid she ever raised a son who liked boys.

Jisung was plagued with these thoughts, eating away at his consciousness until he felt like he was suffocating in the reality and weight of his problem. He had no outlet for his frustration. He was all alone. All alone and deformed. A blasphemy. How could he like boys of all things?

Jisung tried not to think about his problem during the days leading up to his first basketball game, which was much easier said than done. Jisung was quickly beginning to understand how Felix would feel when he was with Dahyun, or any other girl for that matter. When Jisung saw Minho walking down the halls of their school, talking and laughing with his friends, smiling and waving at Jisung, it was like he completely lost the ability to breathe. No matter how much Jisung tried to suppress it, Minho had a tight grip on his heart.

Mina was a big help to Jisung. After their little talk on the bleachers by the track, Jisung often felt himself relying on her kindness and support. The thought of bothering her with his stupid drama and inner turmoil made him feel guilty, but he sincerely felt like there was no way he could keep this to himself. He was just too confused and upset.

Friday came sooner than Jisung would have liked. Friday’s were the official game days for the varsity boys basketball team.

Of course, Jisung wouldn’t actually be playing. No, Jisung still didn’t have the level of skill that it would take to be an actual player, but he was happy to be just sitting on the bench. The idea of playing was leaving a sour feeling with Jisung, and it was not very helpful to him while he tried to focus on his studies.

Contrary to the sick feeling Jisung had, Felix and Seungmin were buzzing with excitement all day. Jisung thought it was strange how they both seemed way happier about this than he did, but judging by how much they cared about social hierarchies, it was expected.

“Maybe you can talk to Minho and see if he’ll let you play, even for just a quarter,” Felix suggested when the boys sat down for lunch that eventful Friday. Jisung scoffed at him. The last thing he wanted was to actually play. It was astonishing how Felix still didn’t grasp that concept.

“Felix you idiot, Jisung can’t even hold the ball properly, no way Minho will let him play,” Seungmin answered, making Felix giggle. Jisung shot him an exasperated look.

“Not true,” Jisung denied, “Hyunjin says I’m better than I think I am. It’s not that I can’t play, it’s that I don’t want to play,”

“Because you don’t want to embarrass yourself?” Felix teased, but there was honestly nothing Jisung could counter about that question. He knew that he had basic skills, but nothing outstanding. Once he begins private practices with Hyunjin, maybe he’ll begin to improve. After all, Hyunjin obviously knows what he is doing when it comes to basketball.

“Hey, since when are you such good friends with Hyunjin?” Seungmin asked, “Didn’t you hate him like a week ago?”

“No, not hate him,” Jisung said in a small voice. There was a small beat of awkward silence before Seungmin changed the subject. Jisung was grateful for that.

“Whatever. Felix did you end up figuring out the history homework, or are you going to freeload off my answers again?” Seungmin asked, and the conversation went off from there.

Jisung was barely participating in the conversation, and he ended up completely tuning Felix out while the boy talked about why he didn’t do the assignment. Instead, Jisung’s eye was drawn to a vibrant colour he saw from across the cafeteria. Of course, it was the bright red, tell tale sign of the varsity basketball team. Jisung wanted to avert his gaze, but his eyes decided to focus themselves on the soft features of the boy who was unknowingly ruining his life.

Jisung watched as Minho laughed at something Youngjae said, and they took a seat on the opposite corner of the room. Jisung was still zoned out, wondering what they were talking about when two fingers snapped in front of his face, drawing his attention away from the boys.

“Ji?” Felix asked, chuckling at him, “are you good?”

Jisung shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded a yes. He turned to look at Seungmin, who was giving him a questioning gaze. There was a small period of silence once again, before Jisung asked “what?”

“We were asking if you’re exited about tonight, stupid,” Seungmin repeated.

“I mean, I guess so,” Jisung coughed awkwardly, “like I said, I’m not really going to play,”

“Well play or not, we’re still going to support you,” Seungmin said. Jisung blushed a bit out of embarrassment.

Felix smiled, “oh yeah Ji, we might make posters too,”

“I know you guys are joking, but please do not do that,” Jisung warned, feeling too embarrassed to even imagine the horrible sight that would be. Felix and Seungmin, sitting in the middle of a sea of high schoolers, holding homemade signs, whooping whenever Jisung took a drink of water. Absolutely the last thing Jisung needed.

“Felix, I don’t know if I have any glitter glue left at my house though, we might have to pick some more up,” Seungmin said, and all three boys started laughing.

----

“Attention teachers. At this time, please dismiss all members of the varsity boys basketball team, as today is game day. Good luck boys, we wish you luck!”

Jisung felt his stomach tighten slightly at the announcement. He saw across the room that Hyunjin, whom he shared last period with, was packing up his books and getting ready to leave. He gave Jisung a reassuring smile. Jisung nervously began to pack up his belongings, shoving them into his backpack.

Jisung wasn’t nervous about playing the game, as he knew he was just there as a spare in the unlikely case that two of the team members got injured and they needed their last resort extra. He wasn’t nervous about the possibility of losing the game, because it wasn’t that important to him. So what was the reason for his unwelcome feeling of anxiety? Why was he so nervous? It’s not like he’s alone, he has Hyunjin, Minho, and everyone else on the team who has grown to be friendly acquaintances with Jisung over the past week.

He had no more time to try and untangle his thoughts, as he was being led out the classroom door by Hyunjin, who was calling a last goodbye to their teacher.

“Are you nervous?” Hyunjin asked. Of course Jisung was nervous. It’s in his nature to be nervous about everything. Jisung felt his heartbeat in his throat.

“No, not at all,” Jisung answered, sounding surprisingly calm despite the feelings he was experiencing.

“Liar,” Hyunjin mumbled, shoving Jisung’s shoulder as they walked. Jisung smiled. It was nice to have Hyunjin around; he always seemed to understand Jisung’s emotions, yet never judged him. It was just like their old times, when Jisung would be upset about the insignificant drama of their sixth grade class, and Hyunjin would always be there to cheer him up.

“Shut up,” Jisung whispered as they reached the gym hallway. He took a breath before shoving the heavy door of the change room open with his shoulder.

Once Jisung opened the door, he was met with loud music echoing off the walls, and the faint smell of sweat. He wrinkled his nose at the stench, wondering what the room would smell like after the boys played an hour of basketball.

Hyunjin led Jisung to the back corner of the room, where they usually sit. All around them, boys were getting undressed and changed into their horribly designed uniforms. Jisung once again felt awkward and slightly self conscious changing in front of these boys. He feels awkward enough exposing his own skin to these boys, but pair that with the fact that he just realized he likes men. His doubts were eased slightly when he saw Hyunjin slip off his uniform shirt beside him.

Jisung began to get undressed when the door swung open again. The sound of the heavy door swinging open rang throughout the already noisy room. Jeongin paused the music blaring from his speaker once the team captain walked in. Jisung was suddenly brought back to the back that not only was he shirtless and exposed in front of the other boys, but he was half naked in front of Lee Minho.

He felt embarrassment slowly creep up on him and make his ears burn. Minho didn’t spare him a glance, yet Jisung still felt ashamed. He quickly slid on his basketball shirt, thankful that it covered his chest.

When the boys were all ready and the last bell rang for the school day, Minho made his way to the middle of the room, clearing his throat and grabbing everyone’s attention. Jisung saw how Minho rolled up the sleeves on his jersey shirt, and he thought it made Minho look even cooler in it than he previously thought.

“Alright boys,” Minho started, and the remaining murmurs echoing in the room ceased. “We’re off to a good start this season, but we need to keep it up.” Jisung saw some of the boys nod, and some of them clapped lightly. “Our biggest difficulty this season is our defense, which I went over lightly last practice. It’s not enough to score points, we also have to keep the other team from scoring points,” he continued. Minho suddenly pointed towards Jisung, and he felt like his heart stopped.

“On another note, today is Jisung’s very first game!” Minho announced, and the rest of the team began to whoop at that, making Jisung’s blushing face fall into his hands. This was too much attention for him. Hyunjin smiled dumbly and shoved Jisung’s shoulder. “Let’s show him how winning feels, yeah?” Minho suggested, his voice getting louder. There was a booming chorus of agreements from the team. “Yeah?” Minho repeated, his voice very loud now. “Let’s go!” He called, opening the heavy doors and holding it for the team to pass through.

Unlike during practices which were private for the most part, the school gymnasium was packed full with students and a few parents occupying the bleachers on the side of the court.

The energy in the space was electric, and Jisung found himself wondering how he had never been to a basketball game before. Maybe it was due to the fact that he never saw the interest in watching sweaty boys wrestle a ball away from each other.

A loud holler from the bleachers drew Jisung’s attention to his two best friends, cheering him on. Jisung smiled at them, but spared no more than that as he jogged over to the bench where he would be staying for the entirety of the game.

All around him, his teammates were warming up, executing drills Jisung remembered from practice, and stretching. Jisung himself tried to get his heart rate up, but for no particular reason other than to not look like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

Basketball is an interesting sport, Jisung concluded by the halftime mark. It wasn’t as slow as golf or even baseball, but it wasn’t as fast as hockey. There was a noticeable grace to the players as they made their formations, utilizing plays and techniques learned from hours of practice. The way that they relied on their teammates was quite cool to Jisung. It was like they were a machine, each component with their own mission, all working together for the greater good.

By the time halftime rolled around, Jisung’s team was losing, significantly. The tension was obviously high; Jisung could see that from the exasperated faces of his teammates, and the obvious overconfidence from the other team.

Hyunjin didn’t even bother to pat Jisung on the shoulder, or ruffle his hair on his way to his water bottle. He looked focused, concentrating on the present game. Minho looked even worse.

Sweat was dripping all down the side of his face and his neck, shining under the harsh lights of the gym. His hair was completely stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were serious. Jisung felt a little bit intimidated from the strange change in the other’s behavior. Jisung had never experienced Minho to be this determined and fierce. His features were sharper, and there was a fire in his expression. The sight took Jisung’s breath away.

“Guys, what are we doing out there?” Minho ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to get it off his forehead, “We’re playing like amateurs. We are sloppy, not coordinated, and we’re playing way too rushed. We’re throwing the ball away, and it’s going right to the other team. That isn’t the way to win, right?” he asked, and there were a few agreements from the team. Jisung internally chuckled, because before, he thought the team was very much in sync. “I want to win this game just as much as you guys do. So let’s slow ourselves down, okay? Play smarter, not harder,” he concluded.

He then led the team into a loud cheer, hyping up the home crowd. The boys made their way back onto the court, wiping their sweaty foreheads on their jerseys. Jisung didn’t miss the way that some girls swooned over them, catching some of the boys’ attention.

After the third quarter commenced, Jisung was a bit astounded. It was almost as if Minho had flipped a switch with his words. Progress came slowly, but sure enough, they began to climb the scoreboard. Jisung felt himself grow more and more invested in the game as he watched the boys fly across the court, ball after ball into the other team’s hoop.

Jisung watched, his heart in his throat, as Hyunjin expertly sank a three-pointer. He jumped in his seat, which caught the eye of Hyunjin himself, who was smiling ear-to-ear like an idiot.

When the team pilled back into the change room after the game, the adrenaline was enough to choke on. Jisung was ecstatic, bumping into and high fiving his teammates after his first ever win.

Jisung understood why people care about sports. At least, he was starting to. There was a sense of family in that change room after that game, and Jisung bathed in it. Even if he wasn’t that close with the members yet, he felt more than accepted as he was pulled into a hug from Choi Youngjae.

“Settle down!” yelled a voice coming from the door, and Jisung turned around to see Minho standing there, proudly smiling, obviously basking in the post-victory high.

One by one, the boys moved to their spots, and let Minho give them a final talk about how they played, and where they would rank in the standings after beating this team. Jisung didn’t catch too much, he was preoccupied by Hyunjin bumping into his side, still smiling so hard he might split his face open.

Once they were changed, Hyunjin led Jisung out of the change room, and into the school’s main hallway. They passed a slew of people that were waiting for their player friends to change quickly so they could leave. He passed by a few dejected faces of boys from the other school.

Jisung did not expect Hyunjin leaning towards the other players and sincerely congratulating them on their game. There wasn’t a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his voice at all, but rather there was real sincerity.

“Why are you doing that?” Jisung whispered to him.

“What, talking to the other guys?” Jisung nodded, still giving him questioning eyes, “Well, they played a really good game, and I know I would appreciate it if I got complimented from the other players,” Hyunjin explained, leaning away from Jisung to congratulate another young looking boy.

Jisung shook his head. Of course Hyunjin was just about the sweetest person alive. It was no different from when they were kids. Everybody loved Hyunjin because he was nice, and didn’t make fun of people. That’s probably also the reason Jisung’s mother was so infatuated with Hyunjin. Who doesn’t want their son to be friends with such a polite and well mannered boy?

“Hyunjin, you were great,” Jisung said, once they passed a small crowd of what looked like freshmen, “honestly, I think you won that for us,”

Hyunjin gave a small laugh. A blush slightly painted his cheeks, which he failed to hide from Jisung. “Are you trying to steal my thing from me?” he countered, giving an offended glare.

Jisung slapped him lightly in the arm. “No, I just think you did really well!”

Hyunjin smiled fondly, focusing his gaze on the ground in front of them. “It was Minho all the way,” he said, “but thanks,”

Jisung was about to argue with him when something caught his eye. A slight glimmer of fluorescent lights hitting jet black hair. He turned slightly to examine, and almost choked on his breath when he saw the familiar pale skin and small stature.

He remembered the pretty girl quite vividly; he remembered feeling her pressed against him in a dark hallway, stealing rushed kisses from him. He also remembered the awkward moment when he pushed her away, and shuddered. Jisung tried to keep his head down and walk, lest he make eye contact and relive the painful memory, but of course, life is a bitch.

“Jisung!” someone called from that direction, however it wasn’t the soft spoken voice of the pretty little girl from the party. Instead, it was the deep and recognizable voice of Lee Felix.

Hyunjin was the first to turn, smiling wide at the smaller boy, pushing Jisung towards that general direction. Jisung saw Felix had his arm around the waist of a gorgeous blonde girl. Of course, Jisung recognized her as Kim Dahyun.

“Good game! Does your ass have splinters from sitting on the bench?” Seungmin called, Felix laughing with him. Typical of Seungmin. Jisung landed a fairly hard punch right on the bone in his arm, sure to leave a bruise.

Jisung’s eyes raised to meet Nayeon’s. The girl tucked her soft hair behind her ear.

“So I’ve been told that you two know each other,” Dahyun teased, poking her friend in the side. Nayeon blushed slightly, mumbling a small warning to drop it.

Jisung saw the gross look in Felix’s eyes. It was the type of look that says “my friend is definitely going to get some”. Jisung wrinkled his nose and drew his attention away from his perverted friend.

“It’s fine,” Jisung awkwardly mumbled. “Have you met Hwang Hyunjin?” he asked, changing the subject away from the girl who looked quite nervous.

As Dahyun and Hyunjin made each other’s acquaintance, Jisung couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl. He didn’t want Nayeon to think that she forced herself on him, or that he had any harsh feelings towards her in any way. She still avoided his gaze.

Jisung figured that was expected. If the tables were turned and Nayeon pushed Jisung away, he would feel absolutely ashamed of himself.

“Anyways, I think it’s time we should go, I’m driving Jisung home,” Hyunjin said, causing Jisung to snap back into reality at the mention of his name.

“Uh yeah, we should get going,” he agreed, “it was nice seeing you guys again,” he waved at Dahyun and Nayeon.

The two boys stiffly made their way to the school’s main entrance, where Hyunjin’s car was parked. Hyunjin made some stupid joke about riding shotgun or something, which Jisung found hard to pretend to laugh at.

“So,” Hyunjin started once they got into the car. Hyunjin fired up the engine, making his way slowly to the road, among all the post-game traffic. “Who was the cutie?” he asked.

Jisung groaned at the intrusive question. Why can’t Hyunjin just not bother to care? The answer was because being nosy is a part of Hyunjin’s personality. “She’s nobody,” he answered, brushing off the question.

“That doesn’t sound convincing,” Hyunjin mumbled, pulling out of the parking lot.

“She’s just a girl,”

Hyunjin laughed at his friend. “Felix was looking like he was expecting you two to take your clothes off right there,”

“Jesus, dude!” Jisung cried out, trying to hit his head against the window to the sound of Hyunjin’s giggles. “She’s just a girl that I fooled around with once, okay? Not a big deal.” he reluctantly answered. Hwang Hyunjin was a pain in the ass.

Of course, Hyunjin began his chorus of oohs, causing Jisung to cover his face. “I think...” Hyunjin trailed off. Jisung uncovered his face to see what caused Hyunjin to stop talking. “I think you like her,” Hyunjin teased.

Jisung almost burst out laughing. The irony of that conclusion was astounding. It was crazy how someone could be so wrong about a topic. Just imagine the shock Hyunjin would feel if he found out about Jisung’s little crush on Minho.

“What?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung just shook his head.

"I don’t like Nayeon,” Jisung pressed, still trying to gain control of his laughter, “please drop it,” he said.

Hyunjin mumbled a “fine” under his breath.

After a second of silence, Hyunjin spoke again. “Is there anybody that you do have a thing for?” he asked.

Jisung paused his breathing. The way that Hyunjin asked that made Jisung’s mind immediately conclude that Hyunjin knew about Minho.

How did he know? Jisung wasn’t that obvious. He didn’t tell anybody except for Mina. Did Mina tell Hyunjin? No, Mina isn’t close with Hyunjin. Did Mina tell other people, which got passed around from person to person until it hit Hyunjin? Did the whole school know?

No. They didn’t. Jisung willed himself to calm down, as he didn’t know whether or not this was even the topic Hyunjin was regarding.

“No, not really,” Jisung said weakly, hoping that Hyunjin couldn’t see past his bullshit.

“You never seem to be interested in anybody,” Hyunjin chuckled. Jisung felt himself loosen up as the atmosphere grew light again. “That’s a real shame, you’d make a great boyfriend,” he joked.

Fuck Jisung’s mind for overthinking.

----

“There you are,” Chaeryeong called from the kitchen. The smell of something cooking greeted Jisung as he walked through the front door. Chaeryeong was stirring a pot of something on the stove, making dinner like she usually is expected to. “How was the game?” she asked.

“Fine, we won,” he answered. Chaeryeong moved around the kitchen some more, handling this and that. Jisung always admired his sister’s cooking skills; he had never been much of a chef himself.

Jisung’s mother wasn’t around too much to cook for her children, and when she was, she was often too tired or unmotivated. As the oldest girl, the duty was passed onto Chaeryeong from a young age. Jisung never found it that fair, but Chaeryeong never complained. When Jisung would offer to share the work with her, she would just smile and say she would rather make something edible than eat whatever Jisung would make. Chaeryeong might be annoying at times, but she was a responsible and tolerant girl.

Chaeryeong smiled and gave him a quick congratulations for his victory before the sound of a yell rang through their home. Chaeryeong froze in her spot.

Jisung’s face dropped. “Why is he here, I thought he wasn’t coming until tomorrow?” he whispered to Chaeryeong. She gave him a sort of exasperated shrug as she tried to continue her work.

“His meetings for tomorrow got cancelled, so he decided to come back early,” Chaeryeong said, “believe me, I was just as surprised as you,”

The man that was currently occupying their living room was Jisung’s father. No doubt he was trying to yell at the soccer referees through the television.

Jisung and Chaeryeong’s father was just about the least likable man they know of.

Jisung’s parents had tarnished Jisung’s perception of healthy relationships from a very young age. Sure, every marriage has their ups and downs, but it wasn’t until Jisung was eleven or twelve years old that he realized not everybody’s parents dissolve into screaming matches during every conversation.

If Jisung was being honest, a lot of the worst moments from his childhood had resulted due to his father’s loud arrogance and his mother’s stubborn judgement. The only reason they haven’t gotten divorced yet is because Jisung’s mother is so occupied with thinking about what her friends would think about her. Her incapability of pleasing her husband like a good wife should. It was better for her to silently accept the hellish life she had created for herself, while simultaneously ruining her children’s childhoods all for the “greater good”.

If his parents were to get a divorce, there is no doubt in Jisung’s mind that he would rather live with his mother. Even though she could be harsh and mean, she could also be a decent mother. Jisung’s father was never much of a father. It was easy to have conversations with his mother when she was in the right mood. Sometimes however, when Jisung thinks about his mother, the bad memories are always what surface first. The memories of her calling him useless, saying he ruined her promising life, saying that he was a disappointment.

That sort of thing can really hurt a kid.

Jisung’s house sometimes felt like a war zone. It was almost impossible to dodge the bullets that his parents were always firing around, attempting to blame others for their own unhappiness. If he managed to avoid being shot with harsh words from his parents, surely he would make a comment, or do something that would set off a landmine of arguments and yelling throughout his house.

Jisung had learned through many years of struggling to avoid the sharp words of his parents that when the two of them were both home together, it was the best move to be out of the house.

“Chae,” he whispered, trying to quietly make his way into where his sister was still cooking, “let’s go out somewhere,”

Chaeryeong nodded quickly at him, “but I have to finish their dinner, or we’ll be in deep shit,” she said, moving to take the sauce off of the stove. Jisung gave her a little pat on the shoulder as he moved to silently make his way upstairs to his room, without alerting his parents that he was home.

Chaeryeong had it harder than Jisung, he knew. His parents rarely expected him to do anything, but they essentially forced Chaeryeong to do their cooking and cleaning. She is still young; she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a maid because her parents don’t like making their own meals.

It was useless trying to understand the logic Jisung’s parents had when it came to raising kids.

Jisung changed out of his school uniform and into his casual clothes before making his way back downstairs to see if Chaeryeong was ready to leave yet. He quietly made his way down the stairs, moving so expertly down the wood where he knew it wouldn’t creak. Unfortunately, it was all in vain when he heard his mother’s voice in the kitchen.

“Call me when it’s time- oh, Jisung you’re home,” she said when Jisung walked into the kitchen, “how was your day?”

“It was good mom,” Jisung said, but he could tell she wasn’t paying that much attention.

“Did you say hi to your father yet?” she said, and before Jisung could object, she was calling his name, beckoning him over to greet his son. Jisung saw Chaeryeong shrug at him. Jisung dangled his car keys to signal that he still wanted to get the hell out of there, which she silently agreed with.

Jisung didn’t have any urge to talk to his father. To his dismay, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps coming from the living room, followed by mumbles of “the game is on,” and such.

Jisung’s dad wasn’t a bad looking man. Sometimes Jisung thinks if he had a better personality, he might even be a decent catch. His father was tall, with very dark hair and a fairly slim build. He was decent looking enough for many people to envy his mother, however those people never saw the real person that he was. The person who shamelessly bashes his family, while at the same time expects to be treated like a king.

Jisung doesn’t care about how his father insults him, his academics, his looks or his friends, but it kills Jisung to see how he hurts Chaeryeong. Chaeryeong is a bright and happy girl, but Jisung can see the way that his father tears down her confidence.

He breaks her down so easily with his judgments. Jisung’s skin crawls every time he thinks about his father casually bringing up her looks and her weight, saying she should eat less if she wants a husband. Jisung never fails to notice how her face drops, and her entire aura becomes sad and insecure. Jisung hates to see her like that.

“How have you been, Jisung?” Jisung’s father asked when he entered the room, “I almost didn’t recognize you, you’ve changed,”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Jisung mumbled, and grabbed his father’s extended hand.

“I still think you could build some muscle, it wouldn’t hurt you,” Jisung nodded at his father. It was honestly best not to interact too much with him. “You should consider playing a sport or something, lord knows you have so much free time,”

“Well Jisung is playing on the school basketball team now,” Chaeryeong piped up from where she was cutting bread. So much for not interacting much with him.

Jisung’s eyes widened as this sunk in. Jisung never told his mother that he was going to join the team. She barely likes him working his job while trying to study, Jisung knew that him playing basketball would make her livid.

“What did she say?” his mother asked. Only then did Chaeryeong seem to process the fact that Jisung’s mother didn’t know. “The team that Hyunjin is on? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I was going to tell you, but-” Jisung was cut off.

“My son is a basketball player?” Jisung’s dad asked, suddenly very interested in this conversation.

Jisung’s mother didn’t have the angry or upset look in her eyes that Jisung was expecting, but rather she looked almost offended. Offended and disappointed that Jisung ignored her opinions and thoughts about focusing on things other than studies.

“Jisung likes being on the team, right Ji?” Chaeryeong asked him, trying to make up for her previous mistake.

“I really do,” Jisung said, shifting his eyes between his mother’s exasperated ones, and his father’s curious ones.

Jisung’s father patted him on the shoulder, “you’ve never been the athletic type. Maybe this will change that,” he said, snaking his arm around Jisung’s tense shoulders, which Jisung ultimately shrugged off.

“I wish you would have told me,” Jisung’s mother said quietly, “I’m not worried about your school. You’re doing fine in your classes, but I don’t want you to take your foot off of the gas.” she said.

“I know that, it’s just that this means a lot to me, and I’m having a lot of fun with the team,” he explained.

Jisung’s mother gave a sort of small whine. Her expression was unreadable to Jisung. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, usually a sign that she was upset about something.

“You’re having too much fun with the team,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “I’m too tired for this, I worked hard all day,” she said, and with that, she turned on her heels and headed towards the stairs, up to her bedroom.

Jisung gave Chaeryeong a panicked look, but she just signaled to him that he should let her go and have her space. Jisung felt guilt pile up in his chest, however he could not bring himself to figure out what to do about it. He didn’t know how he could make his mother less disappointed.

Jisung’s father, unlike Jisung and his sister, obviously was not phased by the exit of his wife.

“So what, have you had any games yet?” he asked, but Jisung gave him a cold shoulder. Silently, Jisung turned away from his father, and called Chaeryeong over.

“Oh.. Dad, Jisung and I have something to do, we’ll be back later..” Chaeryeong called, “dinner is ready, help yourself, and please try and see if mom will eat,”

----

Most people prefer to have a destination in their minds while driving with their baby sisters, but it didn’t matter to Jisung. He was just happy that him and Chaeryeong were able to breathe outside that house.

And so, their evening consisted mainly of them driving around, talking about pointless things until they found a place where they could get quick food.

“What...” Jisung asked, once him and Chaeryeong settled into a parking lot outside of the local variety store, “what did mom mean by I’m having too much fun?” Jisung asked, fiddling with the little straw in his drink.

“Don’t act like she didn’t have to feel the embarrassment of her only son being dragged home at three in the morning by some good looking neighbor boy,” she answered, “I’m all for that lifestyle. I’d let Hyunjin drag me anywhere. But mom is different,”

Jisung refrained from gagging at the gross comment about Hyunjin, and instead focused on what Chaeryeong was saying about their mother. She didn’t want her children going out and drinking like delinquents. She valued studies and ambition.

“Mom is just afraid of what people would think of her as a mother if you became like Hyunjin, Chan, or any other of those guys.”

Chaeryeong was making sense. Before Jisung could agree with her, he felt a rhythmic vibration in his pocket. His heart almost exploded out of his chest at the caller ID.

Why the hell was Lee Minho calling Jisung at quarter after nine?

“Uh, hold- hold on,” Jisung stumbled over his words, unbuckling his seat belt and snaking his way out of his car to gain some privacy. Jisung took a small breath before clicking the green answer button.

“Hi Minho, what’s going on?” Jisung asked, wincing at the way his voice sounds broken.

“Jisung, Jisung,” Minho answered, words slurred slightly, “everybody shut up!”

Jisung had to hold the phone slightly away from his ear as Minho yelled at whoever was probably in the room with him.

“Is everything okay?” Jisung asked, and Minho chuckled.

“Everything is fucking amazing! We’re at Chan’s house with booze, will you come? Please?” Minho whined. Jisung couldn’t help but notice how cute Minho’s voice sounded when he whined like that. The boy was already adorable, but Jisung felt his heart clench when he heard the soft words.

Still though, he had Chaeryeong with him. Not only that, but he should be going home soon before his mother beats him. Jisung thought about what his mother had said about him having too much fun with his team. He felt his heart clench again, except this was not the sweet torture of the cute brunette on the other line of the phone, but rather the guilt of what he was doing to his mother.

“I can’t Minho, I’m so sorry,” he said, and he heard the other boy whine again. Jisung figured that Minho must be pretty drunk, because he seemed way different than this at the original party at Bang Chan’s. The original party where the roles were reversed, and Jisung was the very drunk one.

“Why not?” Minho asked.

“Because I’m busy right now, okay? Are you okay there?” Jisung asked, and Minho laughed again, except this time it was more like a giggle than a chuckle.

“Mhm,” he said, “oh and also before I forget,” Minho started, “it’s team tradition...” the boy trailed off.

Jisung waited a beat before asking “tradition to what?”

“Don’t you know? All new players have to throw a party,” Minho said, “it’s welcoming tradition,”

Jisung felt his stomach drop. There was no way that he would be able to throw a party and still have the respect of his mother.

“I’ll have to talk to you about it when you’re sober, okay?” Jisung said, noticing that Chaeryeong was banging on the glass window, signaling that it was close to nine thirty, which is the time that their mother wants them home most nights.

“Jisung don’t go,” Minho begged, “will you sing for me?”

Jisung waited a second before realizing that Minho was being serious. “...no” he said, “Minho, I have to go,” Jisung said, and he knew that he wasn’t going to get a proper response back when he heard the other boy begin singing loudly.

Jisung hung up the phone and got back into the car.

“Who was that?” Chaeryeong asked, buckling her seat belt up.

Jisung did the same as he answered “it was Minho,”

“Minho? Like Lee Minho?” she asked.

“The one and only,” Jisung started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, beginning their drive back to their house.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to throw a party.. apparently it’s some sort of team tradition, I don’t know,” Jisung answered, realizing how dumb the request was. No way he was going to throw a party for a bunch of dumb jock basketball players that would inevitably end up in a wreaked house and a panic attack.

What Jisung wasn’t expecting was his baby sister to ask him “you’re going to do it though, right?”

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ilovemesomekillianjones · 6 years ago

Text

Operation Holiday Makeover

Merry Christmas @delightfully-difficult-pirate !!! I hope you enjoy this little tale of a not so spirited Emma and her boys plight to bring her some holiday cheer. I tried to put in a few things we chitchatted about over the past month. It was fun getting to know you, shipmate.

Huge shout out to @hookedonapirate for helping me with beta services up until Christmas Eve. Thank you, friend! Thanks @cssecretsanta2k18 for putting together another fabulous holiday gift exchange.

Summary: Killian and Henry conspire to bring the joy of the holiday season to Emma after she confesses that she's never been particularly fond of Christmas.

ao3 ffnet Rated E 9k+ cut line inserted, promise!

“What’s the matter, love?” Killian asked his wife as he spooned her for warmth early one December morning. He loved the quiet moments they shared, which had increased with the new peace that had fallen over Storybrooke.

Moments earlier, he’d woken up freezing and gotten up to adjust the thermostat; he was convinced Emma was trying to recreate the ice wall temperatures inside their home. As he’d padded quietly back to bed, he’d noticed the first snow of the season falling outside the bedroom window, and he’d had to wake her for it.

As they’d watched the powdery flakes fall in heavy drifts, they’d been discussing the upcoming holiday. Barring any unforeseen treachery, they’d actually get to celebrate the holidays. Killian was curious as to where they would spend it, and who all would be involved. Just them, Henry, and her parents, or the extended family too? Gods forbid he have to share another holiday with the crocodile. However, when he’d broached the topic of this land’s traditions and customs, Emma had become quiet.

“Christmas just never meant that much to me,” she answered after a few moments. “I guess with being in a different home almost every year, it was just never special.”

“Aye, it wasn’t a big celebration for two orphaned boys aboard a ship of not so merry men, either.”

“It’s supposed to be a religious holiday, or it started as one before all the commercialization. But to me, it just seemed like a holiday to be with family and friends, and I didn’t have any of that.”

“But now you do. You have your son, your parents, me, maybe a wee one on the way someday soon,” he whispered the last part as he stretched his palm over her stomach. They had decided not to try to get pregnant, but to stop preventative measures against getting pregnant. They both figured it’d be any day now with the amount of time they’ve spent indulging in each other. “A full-blown family if ever I’ve heard of one, and more friends than you know what to do with.”

Emma’s heart ached just a little in her chest as she listened to his comforting words. She did have it all - great friends, a loving family, a doting husband and the prospect of a new life growing within her - so it was puzzling to her that she still felt that familiar tinge of melancholy. “You know what? You’re right, I think I need a holiday makeover.”

“A what?”

“A holiday makeover. I need a new outlook on the holiday season. You want to know about traditions and customs, and I have none. So let’s make our own.”

Emma turned over in his arms and looked at her husband with a childlike grin on her face. She cupped his face tenderly as the prospect of starting something new, with Killian by her side, and Henry and her family in tow, brought a huge holiday buzz to Emma’s heart.

Killian beamed back at her infectious smile and kissed the tip of her nose. “Amazing idea, Swan. What should we start with?”

“Well,” she said enthusiastically, “since it’s still dark outside, we should start by sleeping in. Not all of us willingly rise with the sun, pirate.”

Killian laughed heartily, he loved it now when she called him a pirate. With Emma, it no longer carried a negative connotation; it was more a loving endearment. “Aye, you get your sleep, love. I’ll tend to the Jolly.”

“But you’re so warm, don’t leave,” Emma whined.

“If you’d run the damn heat you wouldn’t need me for warmth,” he chided. “That’s why I’m up so bloody early, it was like an icebox in here. Besides, if I take care of her now, you won’t have to miss me later.” They’d planned to go out for a midmorning sail, but with the new snowfall that wasn’t going to happen.

“Just stay till I’m asleep?” she asked through a big yawn.

He knew he couldn’t deny her a thing, never could. “As you wish.”

Emma snuggled her naked body against his; they’d not bothered with clothes after making love late into the night. “Mmmm,” she hummed contentedly, “you’re like a big, fuzzy, furry blankey.”

“If you call me a furry blankey again I’m leaving,” he warned, though there wasn’t a trace of truth to his words as he snuggled around her more.

“Mm-mm, my blankey” she said playfully, before wandering off into sleep. Since she spent years with not always knowing where her next safe, comfortable place to sleep would be, Emma was out almost instantaneously when she had warmth and comfort.

❄❤❄

“Wake up, lazy bones.”

Emma predictably whined and turned away from her husband’s voice. “Too early.”

Killian jumped on the bed, making it bounce Emma into wakefulness. He crowded her space and planted a kiss on her cheek. “The sun has long since risen, you’ve gotten to sleep in, and our presence is requested at Granny’s in one hour, by your son.”

Emma snatched her phone from the nightstand to look at the time. “It’s not even eight in the morning. That is hardly sleeping in.” She tossed her phone on the nightstand and buried her head under her pillow.

“It’s 7:58 AM, and I was able to talk him into one hour. He wanted us there within the half hour, so how about you thank my negotiating skills instead of sleeping the day away?”

Emma swiftly wrapped herself around her husband’s frame and tackled him to his back. She held his hand and hook above his head, breasts swaying in his face as she straddled him and peered down at him through narrowed eyes. “Someone’s a little daring this morning, messing with me before my morning fix.”

“The coffee is already brewing, my love.”

Emma softly rubbed her bare core against where she was straddling him and smiled deviously. She bit his lower lip and sucked it into her mouth to soothe the sting, and could feel him hardening through his jeans. “Maybe I didn’t mean that kind of fix? You did negotiate an hour for us, did you not?”

Killian craned his neck to chase his wife’s lips, despite having his arms pinned above his head. It was one of his favorite things when Emma woke up needy and feisty. “I did.”

“And what did you have in mind to fill that hour?” She continued to lazily roll her hips over his, relishing the way she could turn his soft flesh to steel in mere seconds. “Were you really thinking of letting me sleep longer as you bartered for more time, or were you thinking dirty, filthy thoughts? Tell the truth… pirate.”

Killian’s cock twitched when she uttered the last word. So, she wanted the pirate to come out and play? “Make me.”

Emma’s eyes widened with lust as he challenged her. With a magical wave of her hand, she secured Killian’s arms above his head so he couldn’t touch her, and his feet to the bedposts so he couldn't move. After standing up and breaking all physical contact, she poofed away all his clothes so he was lying helpless, naked and hard. She wanted nothing more than to jump him and fuck him until neither of them could see straight, but he’d set forth a challenge, and she would win.

Killian swallowed thickly as he realized he couldn’t move. Tied down… in the good way, he pondered, and he knew then Emma was going to tease him mercilessly until he admitted what they both knew was true. He smirked at Emma as she sauntered around the bed, before climbing up on her hands and knees, and settling at his side. She was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin, then she sat back on her haunches and spread her legs. Involuntarily he struggled against the magical restraint over his limbs when she bared her silky folds for his perusal.

Emma placed both hands under her breasts, feeling their weight before skimming her thumbs over her nipples. They immediately hardened under her touch sending a jolt of arousal to her core. “There’s no need to fight, I’ll let you free to do whatever that filthy mind of your wants, if only you admit that you begged more time from a child to have your wicked way with his mother.”

Killian inhaled deeply, a feeble attempt to control his lust, but all it did was flood his nostrils with her delectable scent. His eyes rolled back as they shut, and his hips bucked into the air, desperate to be buried, encompassed, touched, anything.

Emma cocked an eyebrow at him before sliding both hands down her body and resting them on her thighs. “Anything to say for yourself, pirate?”

Killian bit down on his lip, unwilling to give in so easily. Sure his cock ached painfully, but it was the right kind of pain. The kind of pain that would have him coming so hard Emma would feel his cum hitting her walls. “I’ve nothing to say to that end, lass. But you could come over here and sit on my face if you wish to see what else I can do with my mouth?”

“Wrong answer.” Emma moved her hands so one was spreading her lips and the other softly circled her clit. “Guess I’ll just have to make myself come. Too bad, I really did want to be fucked by a pirate.”

“It’s not too late,” Killian murmured huskily as he watched Emma’s fingers rhythmically massage her clit.

“Oh?” she asked ceasing her movement. “You’ll confess?”

“That’s not what I said, I said it’s not too late to be fucked by a pirate.”

“Mmmm, that wasn’t the deal.” Emma began again, and this time she placed two fingers at her entrance. Slowly she drove her fingers deep, watching as the man before her strained to be free of the restraints. His muscles twitched, and the line of his jaw clenched and unclenched as he fought between maintaining control and giving in. But his cock, the coup de grace, was so hard, veins straining against the silky skin, and his tip bright and glistening with precum. Before she realized it herself, she was hearing the sticky sounds of her arousal as she pumped her fingers faster.

A low humming emitted from deep in her chest, and Killian swore he was going to come without ever being touched. He watched avidly as his wife fucked her fingers, all while watching him. A sense of pride washed over him as a thought occurred to him. “I win.”

Emma ceased all movement when she heard his utterance. She glared at him for a second before asking, “What do you mean, you win?”

“You may be fucking your fingers, but you’re wishing it was my cock. I’ll still be the one getting you off, darling.”

Emma scoffed at his arrogance.

“Admit it, you’re imaging my cock slamming into you, over and over, hitting you in just that spot your fingers don’t quite stroke the same way.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. Of course he was right, but she wasn’t going to admit it. Instead, she plunged her fingers deep one more time, gathering more wetness, then she quickly wrapped her hand around Killian’s shaft.

“Fuck,” Killian growled at the contact.

A wicked smile stole her lips as she pumped his shaft, the slippery glide making him cry out in ecstasy. “You’ll be the only one making admissions today.” Emma stroked him flawlessly, paying special attention to his head, but the moment she felt the telltale spasming in his length as his balls began to constrict, she pulled her hand away completely.

Killian cried out at the sudden loss, a sizzle of pain slicing through his shaft and into his abdomen. His balls contracted painfully as his release was denied. He struggled against the restraint, desperate to jerk his own cock to completion. Throwing his head back against the pillow, he squeezed his eyes shut; there was no way he would win this battle.

His whole body jumped when he felt her hand squeeze the head of his cock before beginning to stroke him again. He wanted to tell her to stop, he knew she was going to edge him again, but damn, it felt so fucking good, and his brain was unable to overrule his head.

Emma grinned devilishly as her pirate husband fought and lost the battle to let her have her way. Her core clenched tight as she took pleasure in the way he strained, his beautiful body fighting a losing battle, and his cheeks a delicious pink from the exertion. She was soaked and needed him to yield, which was why she had resorted to these desperate measures. Once more she brought him to the edge, then mercilessly pulled him back. His desperate moans had her touching her clit as she watched her handiwork.

“Fucking hell, lass!” he roared, eyes squeezed shut, head thrust back into the pillow. Every muscle in his body jumped with anticipation, his heart rate doubled, and his breaths were jagged and loud, even to his own ears. His hips bucked into the air, seeking contact of any type. One more touch would bring him to completion. His mind was so jumbled he couldn’t decide if he loved this sweet torture, or hated it. Either way he needed her, now. “I yield!”

Emma clasped her hands together in front of her chest like a child about to get a present. “What was that?” she asked sweetly.

“You heard me, wench. I’ll confess,” he grumbled.

Emma threw herself on her stomach, head next to his chest, hands folded under her chin. She grinned like a cherub as she awaited his confession.

“Would you mind releasing me first?”

“What do you take me for? Confession first, pirate.” She smiled at him lovingly as she spoke.

“Smart lass,” Killian chuckled. “All right then, I admit it!” he said theatrically. “I, Killian Jones, did, of sound mind, coerce a child into more time, so that I, being the pirate I am, could have my wicked way with his mother.”

“And as for your dirty thoughts, Killian Jones?”

“Aye, there were many as I envisioned ravishing my beautiful wife, and I do not regret my choices.”

“And how did you plan to do that?”

“I planned to feast on your breasts while fingering your pretty cunt, and after, I would have made you come with my mouth, and then I was going to fuck you until you couldn't walk straight.”

“So, what are you waiting for?” she asked breathily as she waited for him to realize the restraints were lifted.

Killian immediately sprang forward and jumped on his wife, smothering her with rough kisses. When he felt Emma’s hand circle his cock, he pushed her hand away. “I’m afraid I’m so worked up, you will have me undone with a single stroke of that evil hand. I don’t wish to lose twice in one day.”

Emma acquiesced and threaded both hands into his thick hair as he began his worship. Bracing himself with his blunted arm, Killian eagerly nibbled his way down her neck, surely leaving marks in his wake. He rubbed her clit with a steady pace and feasted upon her breasts one at a time, just as he’d promised.

“Oh, Killian,” she moaned, “you make me feel so good, babe.” She was flushed with a beautiful shade of pink, slightly embarrassed at how quickly he’d brought her to her peak, just as he’d foretold, but also immensely titillated.

“I guess I’m not the only one worked up?” He smirked at her pink cheeks as she panted through her climax. Not wanting her to have a chance to recover, Killian slid further down her body until his face was nestled between her thighs. He chuckled when she jerked against his tongue as he licked along her dripping wet slit.

“Too much, hold on,” she cried.

“I believe turnabout is fair play, love.” Killian sucked her clit into his mouth and circled his tongue around the swollen flesh. Her cries of pleasure had him ready to burst, but he continued on with determination.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Emma whined as the overstimulation became too much. She needed him to stop, or she needed to come, as the building pressure was too much. Grabbing his hand, she guided it to her entrance, desperate for something to tip her over the edge. Ever thankful for how well he read her, she came the second he thrust two fingers inside her heat. Bearing down on his hand, Emma rode out her orgasm as he licked away her dripping arousal.

Silently thanking the heavens for how responsive Emma’s body was to his, Killian moved up her frame and lined himself up at her swollen entrance. “I’m not going to last long, Swan. The promise to fuck you until you can’t walk straight will have to wait.”

Emma brushed her hair back off of her sweaty face, “That’s okay, we’re on a timeline anyway.” She chuckled lightly before extending her hand around his neck and bringing his lips to hers. Tracing the seam of his lips, she moaned softly when his tongue slid into her mouth at the same time his cock plunged into her depths. “I love the way your cock fills me up, babe.” Emma palmed his backside with one hand urging him to move, and caressed his earlobe with her other.

Killian grunted as her post orgasmic walls sucked against his cock. Think of anything except for how good it feels, mate, he implored himself. The way Emma squeezed his arse as she met him thrust for thrust, and tugged at his earring was not helping in his plight to stay the course for a little bit longer.

It was not an exaggeration - his cock felt magnificent each time he penetrated her - but Emma could tell he was struggling to stave his release and she suddenly felt horrible about edging him. He’d already made her come twice, and was holding out for a third, which had to be painful given his need to come. “Don’t hold back, Killian, come for me.”

Killian was lost to the cause when Emma whispered to him before biting down on his earlobe. He came with a groan, hot and thick, painting her walls as their combined releases mixed and spilled down her thighs. He slammed home erratically and a shiver wrested his whole body as he savored the previously denied thrill that now blazed from the tip of his cock, into his balls and all the way through him. Breathing raggedly, Killian slumped against her as a feeling akin to fatigue set in.

“Did I tire you out?”

“All that fucking torment and teasing,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “You’re so bleeding brilliant when you let that depraved mind play.”

“Depraved?”

“Aye, lass, depraved, and I love you for it.” Killian wished he’d asked Henry to change the plan to a lunch meeting now that he was lying naked and sated in Emma’s arms.

“Maybe Henry would meet us for lunch instead?”

Killian chuckled. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“When did you talk to him anyway?”

Killian lifted himself from the warmth of her body so they could get cleaned up. “He was already at the Jolly when I got there, seems he had the same notion to close her up with the nasty weather.”

“Wow, that seems… overly helpful for a teenager.” Emma started the shower, then threw her hair into a bun so she could wash quickly and not worry about catching her death with wet hair on the way to breakfast. After all they’d survived, it’d be a shame to die of hypothermia.

“Well, I may have told him the old girl would be all his come this summer if he wishes to take a certain friend sailing.”

“A certain friend?” she questioned while stepping into the shower.

“Some lass from school he can’t seem to stop talking about.” Killian stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, waiting for the onslaught of questions.

“What? He hasn’t said a word to me!” Emma turned around and broke from his embrace. Placing her hands on her hips in a very assertive way, she gave him a look that was part hurt and part resigned. “I mean, I know I’m his mom, and I’m a girl, but still. He hasn’t mentioned… anything. What’s her name? What does she look like? Is she sweet, does she go to his school? Are they in the same grade? Who are her parents? Why is he hiding all this from me?” Emma’s voice became higher pitched and her words sped up as she got worked up over not knowing about her own son’s crush. This was the second time, and she wasn’t even the Dark One anymore, so why would he hide it from her.

“Easy, love.” Killian pulled her back against his chest, his blunt arm holding her waist solidly as he rubbed her back soothingly with his right hand. “Henry is not hiding anything from you. He just hasn’t told you about her yet. It’s nothing personal, I imagine most teen boys would rather talk to another male when it comes to matters of the opposite sex.” He leaned back and cupped her cheek. “If you’d like, I can tell him he should talk to you about these things.”

Emma laid her cheek heavily in his palm. Of course he would do that for her. “No, Killian, I don’t want you to do that. I love that he has you to confide in, that he trusts you.” Tears welled in her eyes as she realized Henry wasn’t her little boy anymore; he was their young man, and he needed a man to talk to, not just a mom.

“He trusts you too, Emma. It has nothing to do with trust and everything to do with a boy and his crush. It’s guy talk.”

Emma let Killian comfort her. Leaning into his embrace once more, she circled her arms around him. “I love you, Killian. And Henry is so lucky to have you for a stepdad.”

Holding her under the hot spray of the shower, Killian pondered the word, stepdad. It always filled him with a sense of awe and pride. Anyone could father a child, as was proof where his own father was concerned, but to be a stepdad and be chosen as a father figure was very meaningful to him. Killian and Emma shared a tender kiss, one that spoke of deep love, before washing and readying to meet the subject of their full hearts.

❄❤❄

“Hey, kid,” Emma greeted Henry, who was already sitting in a booth at Granny’s with drinks ordered.

“Morning mom, Killian,” he greeted cheerfully as they scooted into the seat across from him.

“Morning again, lad. So what’s this meeting all about?”

Henry leaned across the Formica table top conspiratorially. “A new operation.”

Emma’s eyes darted around the diner as she too leaned in. “What’s going on? Who’s in trouble? Or is the whole town in trouble?” Her son had the audacity to laugh at her. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing so serious, mom. I want to call it Operation Happy Holidays.”

Emma turned to Killian and cocked her head, curious if her husband had spilled about their early morning conversation. He didn’t look at her, but instead sipped the coffee that had been ordered for him while his cheek and ear flushed under her gaze.

“Operation Happy Holidays, huh? Why do we need an operation to make the holidays happy?”

“Well, a couple people inspired the operation, but the reasons are really about the same. This is the first Christmas where we don’t have the threat of some evil villain or another distraction from the holiday. It’ll be Killian’s first Christmas with us as a family, and Mom’s first Christmas without Robin. And, Mom, it’s your first real holiday since coming to Storybrooke where you’re not being called upon as The Savior. We could actually focus on making family traditions this year. I think both my moms could use it.”

Tears had formed in Emma’s eyes as she listened to her son. “How did I get such a great son?”

Henry shrugged his shoulders, making light of the situation. “Just lucky, I guess.”

After placing their orders, they got down to the planning phase of the operation. “So just what and who does this operation include?” Killian asked.

Henry smiled and raised his eyebrows, excited that he’d been asked. “Well,” he started, picking up a small journal from next to him and placing it on the table, “I’ve put down some ideas for family gatherings, and wanted to get your input on them and your ideas for other things to include.”

Flipping open to his notes, Henry slid the book across the table for Emma and Killian to peruse. Page one was appropriately titled Operation Happy Holidays, and below was a list of possible traditions, along with which people to invite.

“This is quite the list you have here, Henry. Have you spoken to any of the other guests?” Killian asked.

“I’ve mentioned some of it to Grandma, and she has agreed to help me with logistics and guests. She’s kind of really good at the group organizing thing.”

Emma chuckled at the understatement, because her mother had a knack for twisting the arms of any person, no matter how tough, without a falter in her sweet smile. And she’d have them thanking her for making them see things her way. “What is a progressive dinner party?”

“It’s where you have drinks, appetizers, dinner, and dessert, but each segment of the meal is held at a different house over the course of the evening.”

“That sounds rather entertaining.”

“The idea is that one person doesn’t have to slave over the entire meal, and you get to enjoy the holiday spirit at each family’s home.”

“And who all would we invite to this event?” Emma asked.

“Well, I was thinking this would just be for the people who host. My suggestion would be drinks and appetizers at your house, dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and dessert at mom’s house.”

“You don’t think I can cook the main course?” Emma narrowed her eyes at her son.

Henry grinned nervously before Emma let him off the hook by proclaiming that she loved the idea.

It was quiet for a few moments when their food arrived and they ate hungrily. Emma wondered what it would be like to attend an actual party with the whole town of Storybrooke - one of Henry’s events. The kid had come up with some great ideas for that as well, a toy drive, and a karaoke fundraiser where you bid money to hear another person sing, and if you pay the right price, you could even pick the song. As an added bonus, if other’s really wanted to see the nominee sing, they could add on to the initial donation, which was especially helpful when a person did not want to sing. Emma would pay damn good money to see Rumple sing Barbie Girl. All proceeds and gift donations would be going to the Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa, where Blue would oversee distribution.

Killian was already thinking about what he’d be making for the recipe contest lunch, which would be a smaller event of family and close friends. He was competitive by nature, so to win this recipe contest among the women in their circle of friends, who would be presenting their best dishes, would bring him great joy

“No fish.”

“What?”

“No fish for the recipe exchange, or you’ll lose Mom’s vote, and mine,” Henry answered.

Killian rolled his eyes, a trait that had rubbed off from Emma. “Uncultured swine,” he muttered.

“Hey! I didn’t say anything.”

“Aye, love, but you know the boy is right.”

“I like fish,” she argued, “it just probably wouldn’t get my vote over Mom’s Beef Burgundy or Regina’s lasagna.” She looked at Henry with an evil smile, “Or even frozen Brussel sprouts.” She and her son both burst into laughter, enjoying the chance to rib their favorite fish loving pirate.

“Laugh away, family, you’ll both be eating crow when I win this thing.”

They laughed at his idiom turned pun, and Emma rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll love anything you make, babe.”

“Ugh, enough lovey dovey crap. What do you guys think?”

Emma made a point of placing several loud smooches on Killian’s cheek, just to rile Henry a bit before answering her son. “So we have a full blown holiday party, a progressive dinner, a cook-off, and what were the last two?”

“Shop till we drop, and a cookie and White Elephant gift exchange.”

“What is a White Elephant gift exchange, lad?”

“In a White Elephant gift exchange, each person brings a wrapped, unmarked gift and places it in a designated area. Guests draw a number as they arrive, and they select gifts in that order. The catch is, you can steal gifts,” Henry explained.

Emma and Henry watched as Killian’s eyes lit up, and that signature eyebrow climbed his forehead.

Emma expounded on the rules where Henry left off. “On the first turn, the person assigned with number one picks out a gift and opens it so we can all see what it is. On the second turn, the person assigned with number 2 gets the choice of stealing the first person’s unwrapped gift or choosing a wrapped one from the pile. If two steals one’s gift, then one must choose and open a wrapped gift again. There are more rules about how many times a particular gift can be stolen, and when it can be stolen in a round, but you know the general idea now. So, what do you think?”

“It sounds like a pirate gift exchange to me, I like it. And you know how I love my cookies, so a cookie exchange sounds delicious.” Killian patted his stomach for effect.

Henry beamed at the acceptance of his holiday ideas. “And what about shopping till we drop? I suggest the Maine Mall. We could make a trip out of it. Head to Portland, shop all day for all of our Christmas needs. Grab dinner and see the city lights, then head back home.”

Killian looked at Emma; they were able to do that silent communication thing almost as well as her parents now. The look on his face said he was game if she was. The look on Emma’s face said, if we must. Shopping was definitely not one of her favorite pastimes, but if it meant spending time with her husband and son, she was on board. “Is anyone else invited to this particular event?”

“I was thinking it would be just the three of us. I mean Grandma and Mom have had their holiday shopping done for weeks now.”

“Then how about we go today?” Emma suggested. Both the men in her life gave her a nod of approval.

❄❤❄

“I’m exhausted,” Emma whined as Killian and Henry dragged her to their final destination, as they had called it. They each had armfuls of bags, and had been at this shopping thing for six hours. Who knew a teen boy and a centuries old pirate would both out shop the only woman in the group. “Why are we standing in a line?”

“Pictures with Santa,” Henry exclaimed.

Emma opened her mouth - to say what, she wasn’t sure. Snapping it shut, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in contemplation as she debated what it was she was really thinking. Her first thought had been, we’re too old for pictures with Santa. But perhaps that was her inner cynic, as the next thought that came was undoubtedly her melancholy self, I don’t have any pictures of Henry with Santa. The final thought that came was, I’ve never taken a picture with Santa. Emma realized, as her husband and son stood to stare at her, waiting for some sort of response, that she really and truly did want to take a picture with Santa. “Let’s do it!”

The joy in her tone made Killian’s heart melt. He had no idea why taking a picture with a man in a red velvet suit would make his family so merry, but Henry had said it would be key in their little operation. Operation Happy Holidays was actually Operation Holiday Makeover, which had been put into action bright and early that morning when Killian had called upon Henry. Together, they had set out to get Emma into the Christmas spirit, after she’d confided her lack of holiday cheer in the wee hours of the morning. Killian could plan some things, but he had wanted Henry’s input for the intricacies of the holiday season - things he might not know about, like pictures with Santa and progressive dinner parties, as it were. Plus, Henry would be able to enlist all the help from others, and then Emma wouldn’t feel embarrassed, like it was only because of their discussion.

“So who’s going to sit on Santa’s lap?”

“Forget it, Mom. I’m way too old for that.”

“We are way older than you, kid.”

“Yeah, but I’m a teenager, you guys are the kind of old that makes it ironic, or witty or whatever, so my vote is for Killian to sit on Santa’s lap.”

Emma laughed out loud at the thought, unsurprised that her husband was more than willing.

“If it is your wish to see me sit on another man’s lap, then so be it.”

The photographer had a different idea, though, when the trio stepped up to the dais. First, he had them all set their multitude of bags down, then the whirlwind directing began. “Okay, Mom, you are going to sit in front of Santa, between his legs. Young sir, you’ll be sitting to her right, and Dad, you’ll be on her left. Mom, knees up, hands folded neatly around them. Dad, right arm behind mom, lean into her and kiss her cheek, young sir, left hand behind mom, lean into her, and head on her shoulder.”

Let it never be said that the family Swan-Jones-Mills could not follow instructions. “Okay, smile, and one, two, three. Okay, for the next one, Dad, you look forward, lean your head in toward Mom. Young sir, head up, all of you looking at the camera. And one, two, three. Last one, here we go. Santa, mistletoe overhead, Mom turn to Dad, Dad turn to Mom, now lay one on her!”

Henry looked over at the two of them, appalled by their PDA, and before he knew it, the camera had snapped one final shot.

“See, what I did there, young sir? I didn’t even have to direct you, your natural response to your parent’s love was priceless!”

They got up from their positions, a little whiplashed from the rapid fire directing. Killian was trying to hide his sappy emotions over being referred to as Dad; no one had corrected or argued against it, and it felt like the most natural thing. Henry was trying to wipe the image of Killian and his mom smooching in front of a mall full of people, and Emma’s smile lit up her whole face as she likened the feeling in her heart to the Grinch’s heart growing three sizes.

❄❤❄

“Thank you for today.” Emma walked up behind Killian as he finished brushing his teeth, and wrapped her arms around him. “It was a perfect day, and I love our picture.”

They’d decided on the collage print with all three pictures and even paid the exorbitant fee for a frame right there. It now proudly hung on one of the walls in the living room. Emma had realized as soon as it was hung that they needed many more pictures - family pictures. They didn’t have to be professional either; she just wanted to fill a wall with memories. First thing tomorrow, she would ask her mom for a copy of that stupid picture she’d taken of her and Killian on their first date, like it was prom or something.

“Why are you thanking me, love? That was all your boy.” He eyed her hungrily as her touch woke his body. She was clad in nothing more than a thin, white tank top and pink cotton panties.

Her hands roamed his stomach and up to his chest until her fingers carded through his chest hair. “I’m not stupid, Killian. I know you had a hand in this too.”

“Only the one,” he jested, holding his hook up and waving it in the mirror. He grinned sheepishly. “Are you upset?”

“That you and Henry have planned my holiday makeover… together? Of course not.” Emma got on her tiptoes and nuzzled Killian’s neck. “It’s the sweetest thing ever.”

Killian hummed softly as Emma teased her teeth and lips along his neck and up to his ear. “Anything for you, my love.”

It was easy to fathom just how much she loved him, especially when he said things like that. Without a word, Emma led him away from the vanity and over to their bed. She pushed him gently to his back and climbed on top of him. They made out like teens before making love, slowly worshipping each other.

Idly tracing her pointer finger through Killian’s chest hair while lying quietly in the aftermath, Emma reflected on the day they’d had and the days to come. “So what is our schedule of events over the next week?”

“Well, let’s see. Tomorrow you have that pesky thing called work, so the lad and I figured we’d use the day for prep and planning. I have to get groceries for the cookie exchange, the dinner, and the cook-off, Henry will be working on something called Evites for the different festivities, as well as a schedule for Christmas Eve and Christmas day.”

“What kind of schedule?”

“Working out when he will be with Regina and when he will be with us. I hope you don’t mind, but I told him to let Regina have her choice.”

Emma’s eyes crinkled at the corners and a full smile graced her lips. “How were you ever a feared pirate captain?” she asked rhetorically. “You are just the sweetest, of course I don’t mind.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t always this sweet.”

“You cook, bake, clean, plan dinners and parties, have a BFF who’s a real prince, and a kid who thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“I guess a full heart changes a man, love can do amazing things.”

Emma planted a chaste kiss upon his serene smile. “Love you.”

“And I you, Emma.”

After Killian finished telling her the plans for the rest of the week, along with his intent to win the cook-off and bake the best cookies, they drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

❄❤❄

“Our guests will be here any minute, how does it look?”

Emma looked around her festively decorated home. Her husband and son had definitely gone all out; it was the prettiest decorating she’d ever seen. So, maybe she was a little biased, but she’d actually cried when she’d come home from work yesterday to find her home completely made over into a winter wonderland.

“What’s the matter love, you don’t like it?”

“Mom, is everything okay?”

Both boys had rushed to her side to see what could be wrong. Emma just stood there shaking her head and covering her mouth with silent tears falling down her cheeks. After a moment, she was able to take in a steady breath. “I love it,” she said reverently. “Almost as much as I love both of you.” She pulled her boys into a fierce hug, hoping they could feel her love as much as she could feel theirs.

“It looks perfect, Killian. And it smells wonderful, I think we’ve put together a pretty impressive spread.”

Somehow, just the small family gathering had been leaked, and there were a few more guest on the list of attendees. While Belle had declined for her family stating that they were taking their toddler to have photos taken with Santa, Granny, along with her visitors Ruby and Dorothy would be there, as well as Leroy and Blue who’d decided to give their romance another shot.

Henry opened the door when the first guest arrived, only to find that everyone had arrived all at once. Choruses of hellos, happy holidays and how are yous were exchanged, along with surprised hugs from Ruby and Dorothy.

“It smells delicious,” David said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “What’d you make, Killian?” he asked, sidling up to his buddy.

“Ahem,” Emma interjected dramatically. “Don’t you mean, what did we make?”

“Oh, who are you kidding, Miss grilled cheese and onion rings for every meal?” her mother teased.

“Hey! I can cook.” Emma folded her arms over her chest defensively. “Just because I don’t do it, doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“Maybe just tell us which ones you made and which ones the pirate made,” Leroy suggested. “That way we can save ourselves,” he snarked.

“Be nice,” Blue chided him.

“I’ll have you know Emma is a very talented cook, dwarf,” Killian replied.

The group headed toward the dining area where Emma and Killian had set up the food on colorful holiday dishes and chafing trays for the hot appetizers. There were flutes of champagne for the adults and sparkling cider for Henry and his toddler uncle. They toasted to the normal things, like health and happiness, and the not so normal, like staying curse and monster free.

Emma received several compliments on her unknown cooking ability, Killian preened about the attention his and Henry’s holiday decor received, and Henry just sat back and beamed at the success of the second phase in Operation Holiday Makeover. It was a rare treat to see both his moms happy and laughing. The evening was a whirlwind, from appetizers at the Swan-Jones home, to Dinner with the Nolans, and Dessert at Regina’s place.

Henry stayed the night with Regina, while the rest of the dinner party left to walk their separate ways around eleven that night.

“Tonight was so much fun!” Emma enthused as they walked down the street toward home. “I can’t wait to see what the next holiday themed adventure brings.” The temperature had to be in the low twenties as they walked arm in arm. Emma was bundled as usual, and Killian had on all his brand new winter wear that Emma had bought so he wouldn’t freeze this winter while out on patrol.

“I am so glad you enjoyed it, love.” Killian pressed a kiss to the tiny bit of skin that showed between her beanie and her scarf. His heart was achingly full as his wife chatted animatedly about how much her spirits had already lifted. And of course seeing Henry get to enjoy both his moms at the same time was monumental; Killian’s own eyes had lit up at the way Henry’s eyes had been lit up. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight as a shiver coursed through her small frame. “I promise to warm your body the second we get home.”

“Mmm, I like that promise.”

“First, I shall turn on the heater,” he teased in a grand voice, as if he hadn’t been promising to ravish her until she was overheated, “next, I will start a fire, and then, I’ll even run you a hot bath.”

Emma elbowed him in the side as he laughed at his own joke. “You better be joining me in that bath, I think I need some skin to skin body heat.”

“As you wish,” he promised.

❄❤❄

Emma was woken to the sound of a cursing pirate. Rising from bed, she threw on panties, slippers, and a robe, then padded downstairs to see what the ruckus was all about. She silently watched Killian as he worked over the stove. He was bare, save for a pair of thin gray sweats; he didn’t even have on his hook and brace. A smile blossomed on her lips as he mumbled to himself, adding ingredients, stirring, flipping and tasting his creations. Silently sliding up behind him, Emma wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled his ear. “Something smells delicious.”

“That would be my pan seared scallops with lemon and garlic pasta.”

“I wasn’t talking about the pan seared scallops with lemon and garlic pasta.” She kissed along his neck smiling when he shivered.

Killian turned around in her arms with a boyishly happy smile and kissed her senseless. “Good morning, Swan.”

“Morning, babe. So how long does this have to cook for?”

“It’s nigh ready.”

“Killian, it’s nine in the morning. That’s not going to keep until lunch at one.”

“It doesn’t have to, these are just my practice batches.”

“As in more than one?”

“Aye, I need to find the right temperature and time to sear these tender morsels. If they go rubbery I shan’t have a chance of winning.”

Rolling her eyes, Emma peaked around her husband to see three pans, each with three scallops sizzling lightly. “And where am I supposed to cook my practice batches?”

Killian belly laughed at that and squeezed her closer. “You and I both know you have no intention of cooking more than you have to.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him before attacking him with kisses. Emma let her hands roam freely over his bare chest and further down his body.

Killian backed her up until her butt hit the table and leaned against her, pressing his erection against her belly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to distract me from my pursuit of the perfectly pan seared scallop.” Killian pulled away from her lips and raised his eyebrow smugly. “Luckily, I happen to know you are insatiable and powerless against my prowess.”

Emma scoffed, “Your prowess?” He was so infuriating when he was right, and he smiled that annoying I’m right smile and cocked that knowing eyebrow. “It just so happens I was eager to wish you good morning. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to… I have other things to attend to. Some of us don’t need practice with our recipes,” she pouted.

“To hell with the scallops,” Killian murmured as he picked up their makeout session right where it had left off. Lifting her at the hips, he set her on the table and situated his body between her legs. “I’d much rather practice jabbing you with my sword.”

Emma laughed right into his mouth as he kissed her and said, “I love you, Captain Innuendo.”

“And I you, my pouty princess.”

❄❤❄

Around one, the ten participants, as well as all the dwarves and fairies, converged at Granny’s who had offered to host the event at the diner. Everyone was starved as the great recipe cook-off dishes were revealed. There was an awkward pause where everyone held their breath when Killian and Gold each proudly unveiled their dishes… pan seared scallops with lemon and garlic pasta.

“Hey, great minds think alike,” David said, attempting to diffuse the situation.

As Gold muttered under his breath, Killian shot David a look that said he must be out of his mind if he thought Killian’s mind was anything like the crocodile’s. Turns out the two had come further than anyone thought though, as they each eventually chuckled at David’s joke.

Everyone formed a buffet style line and helped themselves to each dish. Part of the game was providing the recipe for your dish, so each station had a stack of recipe cards in case anyone wanted to make the dish themselves. They sat and ate and visited, discussing everything holiday related - who was ready for the holidays, who still needed to shop, favorite decorations, the best part of the season, what each family was doing for the big day, and so many more subjects.

When it came time to vote, there were ten dishes to choose from. There was Emma’s pulled pork and mac and cheese, David’s shepherd’s pie, Mary Margaret’s Beef Burgundy, Regina’s lasagna, and Ruby’s spicy chicken enchiladas. There was also Dorothy’s deep fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, Belle’s French onion soup in a bread bowl, Granny’s patty melts with onion rings, and of course Killian’s and Gold’s scallop dishes, which probably wouldn’t garner a single vote, as no one was going to pit them against each other - not even for something as trivial as a cook-off.

It turned out Emma Swan and her family and friends were exceptionally competitive. As the votes were being read aloud, there were accusations of using catered food, nepotism, favoritism, food sabotage, and even ballot tampering.

“My scallops were definitely better than the Crocodile’s,” Killian said as they clamored into the bug, once the lunch was over.

“Does it really matter, when I have this?” Emma asked smugly, holding up the first place plaque that Henry had asked Marco to fashion special for the event. Her husband sulked as he sat in the passenger seat, undoubtedly cursing Gold for the loss. “Oh babe, of course your scallops were better. You cooked them to tender perfection. But what’s most important is, I won the cook off, I won the cook off,” she sing songed as she danced around in her seat.

“Bad form,” Killian grumbled.

Emma shifted into first gear then placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed lightly. “I’m just teasing. Plus you have a chance at redemption since my overly competitive family decided to make the cookie exchange a tournament of cookies. You should call Gold, you know, to make sure your great minds don’t think alike this time.”

Killian scowled at her while pulling out his phone. He was going to find the best damn cookie recipe and win the competition.

❄❤❄

Emma and Killian sat in front of the fireplace enjoying the warmth of a crackling fire and the soft glow of their Christmas tree lights. Today they had wrapped gifts and prepared the house for Christmas with Henry. He was with Regina tonight and tomorrow morning, then he would spend the rest of the day with them. They’d spent this particular evening, Christmas Eve, at her parents home where they’d played cards, exchanged gifts, and eaten a meal fit for royalty. Killian was currently having a full on conversation with his present, an Amazon Echo, while Emma was sipping on a peppermint hot chocolate and reading the instructions for her new Nespresso Lattissima One. They were indulging in the quiet peace of the late evening after the flurry of activity the past couple days.

Killian had in fact won the cookie exchange tournament. The entries were anonymous to avoid favoritism of any type, and the panel of judges was comprised of the dwarves. They each received a plate with one of each cookie, and a scoring sheet. The cookies were judged on three categories - flavor, texture, and aesthetic. No one could resist scoring Killian’s hook shaped - which took away the anonymity - sugar cookies a perfect ten in the aesthetic column, making him the winner by a landslide. He’d gone all out with silver and black buttercream frosting for the hook, and red and green frosting for a holly sprig to adorn each one.

When Emma had asked him about the holly sprig, he’d explained to her that holly was a symbol of Yule, a holiday that some celebrated many years before, in the Enchanted Forest. He’d told her some people had used it to decorate doors, windows, and fireplaces, as it represented love and hope, and its prickliness was believed to capture or ward off evil spirits before they could enter a home and cause harm. He’d gone on to say that it was a masculine element, and the red berries represented potency, to which she’d requested he show her what type of male potency holly berries represented. He’d obliged willingly, of course. Three times.

The holiday party had been a huge success. They’d raised a pretty penny for the orphans at the convent, and Emma had even seen to it that Gold had to sing Barbie Girl, or cost the convent a grand in donations. Killian had laughed until he’d cried watching the Crocodile perform, and it wasn’t that the man couldn’t carry a tune, but the song was so damn ridiculous. When Gold had tried to turn the tables by nominating Killian to sing Yo Ho (A Pirate’s Life for Me), Killian had gone out of his way to ham it up and rock the house. Just about everyone had taken a turn signing for the good cause.

“Dance with me.”

“Hmmm,” Emma hummed as she looked up at her husband, who had stood up and was offering her his hand.

“Let’s dance.”

She placed her hot chocolate on the table next to her and took his hand, allowing Killian to sweep her up into his arms and around the room. He had Christmas music playing on the Echo as they twirled around the room. He stopped them under the mistletoe each time they passed under it and made sure to kiss her thoroughly.

Silent Night began playing as they stood under the mistletoe, and Killian held Emma in a close embrace and swayed gently to the slow song. Emma’s body shook in his arms and he leaned back to see what she was doing. “Why the tears, love?”

“I’m just so happy, Killian. This has been the best Christmas ever, thank you for making me fall in love with the holiday season.”

“Here, I thought you were in love with me all this time.”

Emma snort laughed through the happy tears and slapped his chest. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say. I love you, Killian, so much.”

“I love you, Emma. Merry Christmas.”

#cssecretsanta2k18 #@delightfully-difficult-pirate #cs ff #cs fan fic #cs canon divergent #captain swan #csss2k18

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clarkesrifle · 7 years ago

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Firewhisky Tears - Penny Haywood x Reader

Summary; Penny and the reader have been at odds for years now. However, after a bad encounter with Merula Snyde leaves you bloodied and defeated, you figure out that Penny Haywood isn’t as bad as you once thought.

Word Count; 2,561 words

Warnings; Some references to abuse in the household, underage drinking, some nudity however is completely SFW

A/N; Hi! This is my first time writing on this blog, and I am so excited to interact with everyone. Thank you so much for giving me a chance, and I hope that you enjoy my one-shot. This could eventually turn into a series if you guys like it. I take requests for any sort of story, and as of right now this story is unedited, so forgive any mistakes if there are any. I wrote this at four in the morning. This is my first Penny Haywood fic/imagine

Penny Haywood was absolutely, annoyingly, bloody perfect, and you hated her for it.

Everyone adored the blonde, even the fucking birds stopped to chirp at her. Her smile could earn more points than any immaculate potion you brewed or spell you performed, and it made your blood boil. Your family took your failures even harder.

Your father meant well, perhaps. But that didn’t change the fact that you flinch whenever a sudden noise reverberates in the air. Your family name had long since been disgraced with your family’s involvement with the Dark Lord - although your services had not come willingly, it had not stopped the ministry from stripping your father of his wand.

You had met him, once.

A handsome and charming face covered the horror that was Tom Riddle, who appraised you and said that someday, you would be a fierce witch and an asset to his side. Even then, as a tot, you hadn’t wanted anything to do with the man but the look in his eyes made it feel as though he could read every thought that crossed your mind.

And then He had fallen. Defeated by a babe and you sighed a breath of relief. Maybe there was nothing to fear after all — perhaps he was all bark but none of the bite. As soon as you thought your greatest nightmare was long gone, the trials began.

Your father had been lucky enough to stay out of Azkaban, the wizarding prison that was not above torturing it’s residents, but was completely emasculated by being forced to watch his trusty wand snapped to pieces. It was the worst thing a wizard could go through, it was almost akin to losing a limb.

He had quickly grown more and more angry. The patriarch often took his frustration out on your mother, but Gods forbid whenever his fury was pointed towards you. He grew obsessed with the idea of bringing back the glory to your family name, and the only person that ever stood in front of making him proud, was a certain blonde.

Merula Snyde had been particularly cruel this year. In the six years you’ve been at Hogwarts, yourself and Merula had a tempestuous relationship, with ups and downs more dramatic than a Quidditch match. You had to admit, she was a worthy adversary. You both forced each other to be better at dueling and constantly winded up in the hospital wing because of the other, but even she was more tolerable than Penny Haywood.

Today you found yourself bloodied and broken, but you opted out of visiting Madam Pomfrey (as much as you enjoyed her company, you did fancy winning the cup this year, and Felix had already gotten onto you enough for losing points in Potions that morning).

Instead, you smuggled the bottle of Firewhisky gifted to you by Bill the previous year for your birthday into the Prefect bathroom. Your father had nodded his head towards you and gave the slightest smile — the first you’d seen in years — when he had seen the golden badge arrive with Hjordis, your owl. Ever since getting your first taste of affection, you craved more, and you couldn’t do that by constantly getting in trouble with your superiors.

“Again, Ma’am?” Boris the Bewildered looked to you with a small look of pity. The stone statue moved freely, looking down at the girl who looked so small now. You sneer, tears pricking your eyes as you look back up at the man.

You motion to Boris’ hands. “Judge once you figure out how to put on gloves, sir.” The stone gloves were backwards, on the wrong hand. You had hoped to wipe the look of sadness from his face, but it only made him feel worse for you.

“In dueling, such as in life, there is not always a need to be on the attack.” His voice was soft, so soft and kind that you forced yourself to look away from him in guilt. “It is perfectly okay to cast a defense, be it mental…” he paused, and gently poked next to the gash on your forehead. “or physical.”

A moment passed and you heard Boris shift back into his still state. You breathed again, and quickly shuffled inside the bathroom and closed the door.

Click, went the lock and you pressed your back against the wooden door. The bathroom was ridiculously large with a bath that looked more like a swimming pool than a place to wash. One side was lined with multiple stalls, directly across from it was a long mirror that covered floor to roof. Finally, the wall opposite from the door could be charmed to look like any environment that the user wanted.

Unceremoniously you removed your shoes and threw them on the marble floor behind you as you walked towards the bath, flinching as your bare toes touched the cold. The taps (there had to be hundreds of them) confused you the first time you came into the Prefect bathroom, but now you found yourself at least somewhat comfortable with the jewel-top taps. You leaned down and turned the clear jewel and watched as water poured out. You could vaguely remember Rowan telling you that the water is charmed to always be the perfect temperature depending on the person.

And right now, that meant that the water was so hot the steam made your shirt stick to your body within minutes.

Loosening your green tie, you moved onto the purple gem, turning it and watching as a series of bubbles filled the water and floated upwards onto the ceiling before popping. With a flick of your wand, lit candles appeared around the room and the lights turned completely off, so that the only source of light were the candles that hovered in the air.

The shirt was next to go and you pulled your hair up into a bun to keep it from getting wet. The shirt, which had been white just hours before, had bright splotches of blood covering it. Pulling the Firewhisky out from your pant line, you placed it down onto the marble.

The green gem. The smell of vanilla and pine trees fill the room quickly and tears flow freely. Pain ebbed in more now as adrenaline left your system and it was getting harder to move. The rest of your uniform came off gently as you winced and groaned and slowly slipped yourself into the hot water, which filled the tub to its capacity and the taps shut off without so much as a squeak.

The soap burned your wounds but eventually it faded into a slight sting. Your muscles, which Merula had cleverly frozen with a body-bind jinx, were stiff and sore and relaxed in the water. You sat on the seat of the bath, which made it so that the tops of your shoulders were above the bubbles and exposed to the cold air.

It was too much. The pressure from your father, the desperation the please him…you almost couldn’t breathe. So instead, you uncap the liquor and take a large swig.

Were your tears from the burning of the whisky or the pressures of your life?

It didn’t matter.

You didn’t care.

You were so lost in your thoughts and drowning in the fiery taste of alcohol that at least made you feel something that you —

“It’s never good to drink on an empty stomach,” a delicate voice called. Quickly you turned around, subconsciously covering the parts of your body that weren’t even visible in the first place. Before you, watching you with curious blue eyes, was the girl that made your stresses even worse, Penny Haywood.

“I thought I had locked the door,” you say without any emotion, placing the bottle back on the floor. Penny nodded, pushing her back off of the wall and coming closer to you. She pulled off her shoes and dipped her toes into the bath.

“You had,” she confirmed, and looked towards the enchanted wall. You had made it look like a beautiful forest, the green on the leaves so vibrant that it calmed you. A deer slowly walked across the wall, bending down into a stream and sipping for a moment. “Interesting,” she said.

“What is?” You didn’t even look at her.

“I didn’t think someone that could be so volatile had a quiet side.” Penny teased, chuckling at you. You simply shrugged in response, picking up your bottle and taking a small sip this time. And then, after a moment of consideration, she held out the glass for Penny to take.

The blonde looked surprised at the gesture. You look at her, taking in her soft expression and laughed gently. Bitterly, you mumbled, “Even the daughters of former death eaters are raised to have manners.”

Penny scoffed. “It’s not that.” She attempted to reassure you. “It’s just…” she took a moment to consider her words. “you haven’t exactly extended a kindness to me in these past six years.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought that there was a small tinge of sadness in her voice.

Of course there isn’t, you scoffed.

“Then why spy on me whilst I bathe? Hardly took you for the peeping type.” You teased, a small crooked smile crossing your face as you nudged her knee with your shoulder. Penny snorted, and mumbled something under her breath that almost sounded like you wish. But she took the firewhisky nonetheless, and perhaps it was the alcohol running through your blood, but you found yourself especially aware of how her fingertips lightly grazed your knuckles as she grabbed the glass.

Definitely the alcohol.

Much to your astonishment, Penny took a hearty swig before placing the bottle down to the right of her.

“I followed you,” she started, leaning down onto the ground. “because you were hurt. How was I supposed to know you were coming in to take a bath? You hadn’t brought any spare clothes, just a bottle of liquor and a trail of blood behind you.”

You let out a hmm. “The door was locked, Haywood.” You looked at her again with a smirk on your face as it dawned on you. “You care.”

Penny kicked at the water and splashed you. “Hardly,” she crossed her arms. “I could still dock points for drinking on campus, you know.” She sat up and looked at you with slight humor in her eyes. An awkward silence enveloped the two girls and it almost felt like the conversation had reached an awkward end.

You almost expect to hear the door open and close when Penny stands up, but surprisingly, she returns with a conjured rag in hand. Whispering a barely audible Come here, Penny steps completely into the bath, sitting on the ledge with you.

“Your clothes…” you almost pitifully whisper, making a bright smile cross Penny’s face.

Fuck.

Even her smile is perfect.

Dipping the white rag into the bath, Penny carefully pressed the cloth to your forehead and you couldn’t help but wince. You pull your legs up to your chest gently, suddenly thankful for deciding to add bubbles tonight.

You couldn’t help but notice how focused she looked right now. Her tongue lightly pushed past her lips and stuck out. Bright blue orbs were staring intently at your forehead, and you couldn’t help but think, Were her eyes always so pretty?

“Why are you helping me?” The words barely pass your lips, but Penny hears them nonetheless and pauses.

A beat passes.

“I don’t know.” Penny dips the bloodied cloth back into the water and returned to cleaning your wounds. “But I do know that you don’t deserve the pain.”

You scoff. “I don’t have pain.”

“Then why do you cry when you think no one sees?” Suddenly you grow angry. She doesn’t know you, who does she think she is?

Why is she so right? Your anger quickly dissipates and now you’re left alone with a pretty girl sitting in a bath with you, a girl you’re supposed to hate. “I envy you.” You finally speak again after a silent moment. This surprises her.

“Everything comes so easy for you,” you say. But you don’t sound angry. You sound defeated. “Everyone loves you, you’re the top of every class.” Resting your chin on your knees, you can’t even look Penny in the face anymore. “My father…hates me because of you.” You hate to admit it, but it’s true. It hurts to say, because despite all of his failings, you love him. “All he wants is for me to make a name for myself, for our family…to get rid of our association with the Dark Lord. And then you come along and make it impossible. Being top of my class means nothing if I tie with someone else.”

You speak faster and faster to the point where it becomes hard to breathe, tears run down your face and everything hurts and you can feel your stomach clench because all you want is to be a good daughter but —

She kisses you.

And just as soon as her lips were on yours, she pulls away, and almost subconsciously you try to follow her before you pull back again. Your face turns completely red.

“Oh,” is all you can say.

“You were having a panic attack.” Penny looked just as confused as you do.

“Oh.”

“Was that your first kiss?” She asked you.

Bewildered and even more embarrassed, your face turns maroon. “Well, gee, was it that obvious?” You almost laugh at how awkward you feel and bury your face in your hands.

Penny laughs aloud, you can’t even stop yourself from thinking about just how beautiful it sounds. “No, it’s just…I’ve never seen you have a boyfriend…” a pause, a hesitation. “or a girlfriend?” Penny almost sounds hopeful here.

You look up and shrug. You hadn’t had the time, and although it did sometimes bother you that you had only a handful of friends, your busy schedule hadn’t allowed you to do anything about it. “Never had the time.”

“Well,” now Penny sounds awkward. “How would you like to be friends with me?”

Another beat. In the six years as classmates, this was the first time you had ever seen the most popular girl in your year be nervous. You smile. Genuinely smile. “I’d like that, Haywood.” She nods gently, and like she had when she first made herself known, she pushed herself up and, instead of coming towards you, she walks away this time.

Shoes in one hand, the bottom half of her dripping water onto the floor, she pauses at the door. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you say. “And Penny? Don’t think that just because we’re friends now means that I’m gonna go easy on you in class now. I’ll still match you point for point.”

Throwing her head back with laughter, her face practically lights up the whole room. “I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”

And then the door closes and you’re alone again.

But instead of feeling so lonely, your lips are on fire and tingling. There is no sadness in the air, but the feeling of a new beginning. You touch your lips and laugh.

Penny Haywood is absolutely, annoyingly, bloody perfect.

And pretty soon, you would love her for it.

#penny haywood #penny Haywood imagine #penny Haywood fic #hogwarts mystery #Harry Potter hogwarts mystery #hp #Harry Potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fic #imagine #one shot

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queenofthyme · 7 years ago

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#switching #owling #bumping into each other

Prompts: @crazyconglasses Author: @queenofthyme

Dearest Potter,

My mother insists that I write you to formally thank you for speaking on behalf of us at the Wizengamot. Without your testimony, we most certainly would have faced time in Azkaban.

So: thank you.

If you were expecting any heartfelt words of gratitude, then you’ve mistaken me for those hero worshippers who submit their amateur poetry about you to The Daily Prophet. Even as a child, I could write better poetry than that.

Hoping to never speak to you again,

Draco Malfoy

Malfoy,

Please pass my appreciation on to your mother. I sincerely hope she is well.

As for you, I don’t need or expect your gratitude. That’s not why I helped you. You wouldn’t understand this of course, but those of us who have a heart, help others simply just to help others.

I also happen to enjoy and appreciate the notes people leave in The Daily Prophet for me. I’ve never heard any poetry from you, so I wouldn’t be so quick to throw stones.

Wishing you horrible misfortune,

Harry Potter

Don’t give me that load of crock, Potter. Even heroes have ulterior motives.

I also highly doubt you enjoyed last week’s poem: “I see Harry Potter’s emerald eyes, they sparkle and shine, all magic defies.” What does that even mean?

Seeing through your media-trained lies,

Draco Malfoy

Malfoy. You only think I’m lying because you can’t comprehend anyone’s perspective but your own.

That poem was heartfelt and thoughtful. I have a copy of it on my fridge - that’s a muggle appliance.

Rejecting your rude assumptions about me,

Harry Potter

I know what a fridge is. And if you have the likes of that poem on yours, then you must seriously be starved for attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were keeping my letters on the fridge as well. Sentimental, Potter? Do you miss having someone to blame for all your misgivings?

Hoping this letter doesn’t come anywhere near your fridge,

Draco Malfoy

I can assure you that your letters are not nearly poetic enough to make it to the fridge. Maybe you should try rhyming?

And I think you’re forgetting that you were the one intent on bullying me for most of our time at Hogwarts. I’m still waiting on an apology.

Waiting fruitlessly because I know you’re a prick,

Harry Potter

Great, Potter. Now I have to apologise just to prove you wrong. I am not a prick. And I am sorry for any supposed “bullying”.

Bet you feel real stupid now.

Not rhyming as I have no desire to be on your fridge (Have I not made that clear?),

Draco Malfoy

Malfoy,

That’s hardly an apology. You really are a prick.

And just so you know, you could write me a poem in iambic pentameter and it still wouldn’t make it onto my fridge.

Wondering if your heart is frozen in ice or if you were just born without one,

Harry Potter

Fine. I’m sorry for bullying you. I mean that.

I actually do have a heart. Which you would know if you knew me at all. Which you don’t. So don’t presume to.

Wondering what the fuck iambic pentameter is and why anyone would want a poem in it,

Draco Malfoy

Apology accepted, Malfoy. Was that so hard?

Forget about the iambic pentameter. It’s not like you’d ever write me a poem anyway.

Not presuming to know Draco Malfoy in any way, shape or form,

Harry Potter

Potter,

I don’t appreciate being mocked. Apologies are hard, actually. Although I’ve never heard one from your mouth so perhaps you don’t know that. Merlin forbid, the great Harry Potter ever do anything wrong.

And maybe I will write you a poem. It will be called “The Boy Who was a Constant Pain in my Arse.”

Suggesting you order a new quill as your ink is splotchy,

Draco Malfoy

I think you might want to reconsider the title of your poem.

Liking my quill as it is thank you very much,

Harry Potter

What’s wrong with the title?

Enclosing a new state-of-the-art quill with this letter,

Draco Malfoy

I think it might give people the wrong impression. Unless you want to imply we’re fucking?

Continuing to use my own quill and throwing away yours,

Harry Potter

Fuck you, Potter.

Saying fuck you a second time for emphasis,

Draco Malfoy

Your title would actually imply the other way around, Malfoy.

Enjoying being a constant pain in your ass,

Harry Potter

I’m changing the title of my poem to Potter Sucks. Short. Simple. To the point.

Not so sure what you’re proposing to be enjoying,

Draco Malfoy

Although accurate, I don’t think that title is really the angle you’re going for either. What’s your poem rated?

Enjoying ‘sucking’,

Harry Potter

Potter,

My earlier observation that you were starved for attention was clearly an understatement. You are so desperate for it, you seem to be hitting on me. We’re enemies, Potter. Have you forgotten? Or has the blood from your brain rushed to other areas, leaving you incapable of thinking about anything other than sex?

Wondering if this is all an elaborate prank,

Draco Malfoy

To other areas? Draco Malfoy, you wouldn’t be thinking about my dick would you?

Wondering how pink your face is right now as you fantasise about my dick,

Harry Potter

POTTER. Must you be so vulgar? How can you put your splotchy quill to parchment and actually write something like that down?

NOT thinking about your dick in any regard,

Draco Malfoy

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Not thinking about you not thinking about my dick in any regard,

Harry Potter

Now, you’re just talking nonsense. I don’t know why I expected anything else from you. My mistake.

Wondering why I’m still writing to you,

Draco Malfoy

No one’s forcing you to write back to me, Malfoy. You’re doing it because you want to.

Here, let me demonstrate something to you: If your write back to this letter, I’ll make you blush brighter than your pale face has ever known. If you don’t write back, you’ll never hear from me again.

If you really don’t enjoy writing to me, then the solution’s easy.

Knowing you’ll write back,

Harry Potter

Fuck you, Potter. I have no interest in playing your games.

Waiting for your head to deflate,

Draco Malfoy

And yet you still wrote back knowing what it would mean. You can stop acting coy with me, Malfoy. I gave up on that ages ago. Now I’m going to give you what you want.

I’ve been thinking about you lately. Thinking about the way your face flushes when you’re embarrassed. Thinking about the way you flick your hair back when you’re frustrated. Thinking about the way you strut around like you own each piece of the world you step on. And very lately, I’ve been thinking about the sounds you’d make with my cock inside of you.

I did promise to make you blush.

Unashamedly hard as I send this letter,

Harry Potter

Potter,

Can you please explain to me what it is you’re trying to do? Because, for the life of me, I can’t think why’d you’d willingly humiliate yourself like this. How can you be so unashamed, as you put it, in sending such filth through the mail?

And just for the record, not that it would ever happen, but if it were, you would be the one moaning with the sensation of my cock inside of you, Potter. Just so that you’re aware.

Not blushing in the slightest (but you should be!),

Draco Malfoy

You write about me moaning with the sensation of your cock, and I’m the one writing filth? Seriously, Malfoy, you must realise what you’re doing here. What you’re doing to me.

And just for the record, I wouldn’t be opposed to the sensation of your cock inside of me.

Fantasising about it right now,

Harry Potter

Potter,

Can I remind you that I did specify it would never happen between us, so fantasising is all you’ll ever be doing?

I’m not easy. Quite frankly, it’s insulting that you think you can trick me into your bed with filthy letters.

Suspecting you can’t think without your dick,

Draco Malfoy

Malfoy,

I never thought you were easy. In fact, writing to you has been incredibly difficult. I’m sorry if I’ve been…overly explicit. I promise it’s not all about getting you into bed. I’m just not sure how else to get through to you.

There’s something about you. You set me on edge. You challenge me. You excite me. Writing to you, although frustrating at times, has given me something to look forward to every day.

Please tell me you feel the same.

Anxiously awaiting your reply,

Harry Potter

Potter,

About today. I didn’t expect to see you in muggle London. Please don’t take my actions as indicative of my feelings. I was just surprised.

Sure that you will understand,

Draco Malfoy

Potter,

I think your return owl may have gotten lost. You may have to resend your last letter.

Patiently,

Draco Malfoy

Look, Potter. I didn’t mean to say those nasty things to you. It’s just seeing you, in the flesh, after so many years…well, as they say: old habits die hard.

I didn’t mean any of it. I’m sorry. Please write back.

Impatiently,

Draco Malfoy

Potter,

I know it may not seem like it, but I feel the same. I do.

Please read The Daily Prophet tomorrow morning.

Yours,

Draco Malfoy

Draco,

You made it onto the fridge.

Yours,

Harry