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imaginepirates · 3 years

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Pirate

For the anon who wanted a James x reader where they meet on the Pearl, but James doesn’t have the guts to admit that he’s falling for them. Later, (we’re pretending his death didn’t happen), they meet again at Shipwreck Cove, and James confesses his feelings during the battle on the Dutchman.

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @paljonkaikenlaista @viper-official @hellspawn-brownies @groovyfluxie @wordsinwinters

~3760 words. Long again.

~~~~~~~

His hair hung in wet strings around his face. Whether they were matted together with water, alcohol, or vomit, you weren’t sure you wanted to know, though you suspected it to be a mixture of all three. A guard rail was all that kept him upright. He was a disaster, even for a pirate. Not that he’s a pirate, either.

The former Commodore looked a wreck. You would be, too, you supposed, if you’d drunk yourself into complete oblivion. And someone needs to take away that damned wig. Currently, it sat on his head much like some bird’s nest, and you half-expected a gull to land in it at any moment. Pity mingled with your disgust. There had been a time when his name alone had struck fear into you. Now, he was a pathetic image, unable to do so much as hold himself up on two feet. He couldn’t strike fear into a fly.

You were a bit surprised that Elizabeth, of all people, showed him no sympathy. Even Jack looked a bit repulsed, which was saying something, given that Jack himself was never in a prime state. He staggered upright, puking over the side of a railing.

You sighed, walking brisky over, snatching the wig off the top of his head and tossing it overboard. He looked up at you through bleary eyes.

“What the bloody hell was that for?”

“You look awful.”

“Thank you for your astute assessment.” Even drunk, his tone dripped sarcasm, and you were a little surprised.

He’s still in his wits, then. You looked him over again. Somewhat. “You look marginally less awful without the wig.” He grunted. You grabbed the bottle he was holding, too, and threw it over the side.

“Now that’s just a waste.”

“You need to sober up.”

“And who exactly are you, that it’s your job to police me?”

“You’re embarrassing, is all, and it’s no good to be embarrassed by crewmates.”

He snorted. “You should write to the admiralty. That sort of thinking would have spared me many of my own crewmates throughout the years.” He stared down into the waves, where his water-clogged wig had begun to sink under the surface.

“Well, you don’t want to be that person, do you?”

“At this point, I don’t particularly care.” His wig finally lost the battle, disappearing into the murky depths.

“Have some pride.”

“Pride?” He pushed himself up, looking coldly into your eyes with his own. “I’ve lost my title, I’ve lost my station, I’ve lost my livelihood. I have no house, nor family, nor friends. I’ve lost everything I ever held dear, including the woman I love, because despite being with her,” here he gestured with his chin to where Elizabeth stood at the helm, “I’m further from her than ever before. Now please, tell me again why I should have pride.”

If you were being honest with yourself, it was hard to give him an answer. “You still have your life, and for however little that’s worth right now, things could be worse. You could be dead. Take pride in the fact that you didn’t let things get that far.” He scoffed, but you continued. “Go clean yourself up; splash some water on your face, and do something about the vomit in your hair. Things can get better. Clean up, and you’ll be one step closer.”

He looked at you then, a vulnerability in his eye that wasn’t there before. Hope. He stalked off then, stumbling a bit, but trying admirably to, supposedly, follow your advice.

Norrington carried out his tasks admirably and without complaint, no manner how demeaning for a man of his previous station. He was watched with suspicious eye; but why wouldn’t he be? He had been a ranking officer, after all, and an effective one at that. Too many pirates had been lost to his scouring of the Caribbean. Just how far can you trust a member of the navy, former or otherwise?

The way he looked at Jack’s compass didn’t escape your notice. He knows. “Not thinking of stealing it, are you?” His neck craned to look up at you from his position kneeling on the deck, a wet cloth in hand. He stopped his scrubbing to glare.

“I’m not a thief.” He looked back down, returning to his task.

“You are a pirate.”

His head whipped up at that, jaw working in annoyance. “I’m not a bloody pirate,” he hissed.

“Then what the hell are you doing here? Top secret mission? I’m surprised you were chosen; I wouldn’t believe your fall from grace if I weren’t here to see it myself.”

Norrington was showing clear restraint, obviously wanting to hit you with something. You watched him breifly consider using the wash-rag as a projectile before deciding against it.

“Commodore Norrington. That was a name to fear, once.”

The ferocity in his eyes vanished, replaced by sadness, his gaze dropping from yours. “I haven’t been that man in months. I never will be again.”

“Good.” He shot you a questioning look. “It’s no use to be afraid of you. And, if what I hear from Elizabeth is true, you might learn to have some fun and not be so stiff all the time.” Offence flashes across his face, but you only smiled. “I blame high society. Welcome to freedom, James Norrington. I hope you get a taste for it.”

He turned to look out over the steadily changing horizon, a soft pink beginning to dust the sky. “So do I.”

The days wore on, and the crew steadily adjusted to James’ presence. He no longer ate alone, though he ate in silence, and the crew was more willing to interact with him. Elizabeth, you noted, had barely paid him any mind since his arrival. How she could be so callous towards him you didn’t know; you had expected her to at least talk to him, but she barely even looked his way.

Not that he didn’t look hers. His gaze would fall upon her, sometimes, while he worked, and there was a sadness there that tugged at your heart. He was confused, too, as to her treatment of him. He wanted, more than anything, to be close to her. Even if she could treat him like a friend. But she refused to give him even that much.

You were tired of watching it. “Come on,” you walked up to him, “let’s do something about that hair.”

“You haven’t grown tired of telling me what to do, have you?” he drawled. He was propped against a railing, eyes following Elizabeth as she walked across the deck above them. With Jack, you noted. So, it seemed, did James.

You sighed. “It can only get in the way, hanging down by your face like that.” You turned away, heading down belowdecks. He needs to get away from watching her.

James followed, pushing off the railing and heading after you. Good. You found a spot with a few barrels—full of apples, you assumed; you never had gotten rid of all of Barbossa’s cargo—that would be suitable for sitting on. You motioned for James to do just that, moving behind him.

You found yourself at a loss for words. What was there to say? You had little in common, and less that wouldn’t bring back poor memories for him. You kept silent, instead running your fingers through James’ hair. It’s longer than I expected, for a naval man. I wonder if he always kept it like this, or if it was close-cropped, once.

“What exactly are you doing?” He turned his head a little to look back at you.

“Braiding.” You separated his hair into three parts, beginning to twine the strands together.

You expected him to ask you why, or to move away, but he stayed put. “I haven’t worn my hair in a braid since the navy.” It was almost a whisper. Somehow, in the low light of the hull, it seemed appropriate.

You almost pulled away and apologized, but he went on. “I used to braid it to fit it under that damned wig. It could get so insufferably hot in the sun, though I was always glad to have the hair off the back of my neck. I don’t know how Elizabeth ever managed, in those dresses.” A soft smile sat on his face. “How did any of us manage, back then?”

You knew he wasn’t speaking of the heat. You tied his hair off with a small strip of ribbon from around your wrist. It was interesting, to see something of yours on him, and you stared at it a moment before moving. “You’ve always kept your hair this long, then?” You moved to a barrel across from him.

“For years. My mother hated it.” He smiled. “She told me it would be easier if I just cut it off.”

“Good thing you didn’t.” He looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself beginning to flush. “It suits you.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. Even in the dim light of the lanterns, you could see his cheeks turn pink, the color extending down into his collar. You sat in awkward silence a moment, James fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves while you looked down at the black deck. “A name to fear, you said.”

James was still toying with the cuff on his left wrist when you looked back up. “I think I like you this way better.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

You got up, moving to a barrel next to his. “I’d rather not fear you.” You grabbed his hand, taking it gently away from its fiddling. He scanned your eyes. “Like most people, you aren’t as terrifying as the stories make you sound.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“That you struck fear, even into the best of us?”

“I…” he trailed off. “It seems so ridiculous, that anyone feared me. I know I was good at my job—it was all I was good for.” He scoffed. “But I was so out of place in society…I always felt horribly awkward at all those social events. I was much more afraid of those people than they were of me.”

“You were like…” you wracked your brain for a parallel. “You were told stories about Blackbeard when you were a child, right?”

“Yes, of course. Upon reflection, I’m sure they were too dramatic to be true.”

“That’s how you were to us. You were a reverse Blackbeard.” James laughed aloud at that. “I can’t even tell you how I pictured you. Larger, maybe. Older. And with a horrible, mean beard that took up half your face.”

James smiled, and you found you quite liked the expression on him. “Am I as scary as the stories?”

“Not even close. Though I’m sure I wouldn’t want to meet the business end of your sword,” you added.

“Is Blackbeard as frightening as the tales?” James questioned. Then, more seriously, “Is Davy Jones?”

You sobered. “Aye, he is.” You found that his hand was still in yours—he hadn’t pulled away. “But it’s mixed with disgust. He isn’t human, anymore. It can be revulting. And sad,” you said, upon reflection. “I can’t imagine; losing your humanity like that.”

James said nothing, his eyes on your entertwined fingers. He ran his thumb over your knuckles. “Why do you talk to me?”

You shrugged. “There’s no reason not to.”

“That doesn’t seem to be the common belief.” He continued to rub gentle circles in the top of your hand. His fingers were calloused from years of hard work, but so were yours. He traced over your knuckles and each finger in turn. His brows furrowed. “It’s pity, isn’t it?”

You could see how disgusted he was with himself. “Some, yes,” you admitted. “But you’re not half-bad to be around. This was…nice. I haven’t had a quiet moment with someone in ages.”

He looked at you thoughtfully, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not half-bad either, for a pirate.”

You smiled, and he looked like he might say something more, but he stayed quiet, a soft smile of his own gracing his features. When he left, you knew he was in a better mood than when he came. I wonder if I’ll occupy any of the space in his thoughts that Elizabeth does. It was a silly thought, and you didn’t quite know why it came to mind, but there was a ghostly touch where James had brushed your hair aside, and you realized that you liked the idea of his thinking about you. Wishing for the attention of a naval man. Who would’ve thought?

~~~~~~~

The news about Isla de Muerta came hard. You had been anxious the entire time, confined to the Pearl on the account that Davy Jones could make an appearance, and the ship would need to be crewed if he did.

You weren’t prepared for the eventuality that James wouldn’t come back. You had worried, of course, wringing your hands with it, but you hadn’t actually thought…

You kept your tears for him to yourself. Nobody else was bothered—not even Elizabeth. A man she’s known her entire life, dead, and she has no sorrow to show for it. How can she be so heartless? It was as if nothing had happened at all. The crew ignored it; they were used to that, you supposed. Half your number had been killed by cannibles, after all. But even Gibbs seemed unbothered by the prospect of James’ death.

Only later did you realize that James had taken the heart. You didn’t believe it, at first, but slowly came to reconcile yourself with the idea. Elizabeth thought him a traitor. But was he ever really on our side? You thought back to your conversations with him. I like you this way better. It had been true. I’m not sure I do. That was true, too, and now he’d shown it.

At first, none of it mattered to you. He was dead, anyway. Slowly, you began to realize that Jones didn’t have the heart. After all, he hadn’t quit pursuing the Pearl, even if you didn’t have the heart. When you learned that the heart was in possession of Cutler Beckett, damn his eyes, your heart leapt with joy. James is alive! No matter the mood of Jack, or Gibbs, or Elizabeth, or the crew, you could only think of James. He wasn’t killed, then. He used the heart as leverage to secure his old position.

You pondered the thought. If ever you met him again, would you be afraid? Or would you just be sad?

~~~~~~~

Shipwreck Cove was just as you’d remembered it. Dimly lit, ships stacked one on the other, whispered conspiracies in every corner. Every sailor’s legend had its place in these ships. There wasn’t a legend that hadn’t been speculated within the fortress, and not a pirate who hadn’t chased them without.

You had fond memories of the Cove, but less fond memories of the Court. The Brethren Court convened on only the deepest of issues, and you still remembered some of their gatherings from when you were a child. It was loud, and there was no order, and the Court couldn’t meet without at least one death per session.

It was that way now. Jack toyed with the swords stuck in the globe at the front of the room while the other pirate lords surrendered the miscellaneous junk they deemed their pieces of eight. The end result was a dish full of random trinkets. Not that you didn’t understand; the idea that pirates obtained mass amounts of wealth was a myth. Most of the time, you barely had a shilling to your name. Working with Jack was especially non-lucrative, but it was certainly more entertaining.

Jack’s hand strayed briefly to the piece of eight at his temple. “Might I point out that we are still short one pirate lord and I’m as content as a cucumber to wait until Sao Feng joins us.”

“Sao Feng is dead.”

You recognized that voice. You whipped around to see Elizabeth, clad in full Chinese armor, sword in hand. You smiled to yourself; she was always full of surprises.

The best surprise, however, was the man standing at her side. You mouthed James’ name, and his eyes locked on yours. He stepped forward, as if to greet you, but you were interrupted by further discussion of the Court. He’s alive, and he’s here, and I never thought I would see him again. You glanced over your shoulder. And he’s in full uniform.

The Court was chaos. Barbossa’s plan to free Calypso was not taken well by the others, and you couldn’t blame them. Your mind was preoccupied, focussing on the man somewhere behind you. You wondered if he had seen the relief in your eyes. Had he felt the same?

A hand settled on your shoulder. You turned to see James, worried eyes staring into your own. He pulled you back, leading you out of the room.

“James?” You felt your eyes beginning to water. “For the longest time, I thought you had died.” Your voice cracked, and you were unable to stop it.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only reached out to you, pulling you into a firm embrace. “I’m so sorry.” His breath tickled your ear. “I’ve done horrible things.”

You held tightly to the back of his coat. “I’m just happy to see you again.”

He stepped back, pain blossoming across his features. “I know you can never forgive me, for what I’ve done. I can only hope you-”

The doors behind you opened, and the Court flooded out. The consensus is war, then.

~~~~~~~

The rain made it hard for you to keep a good grip on your sword. The Dutchman pitched and rolled under your feet, waves crashing rougly into the sides of the hull. Its mast, tangled with the Pearl’s, loomed above you, a towering dark figure in the haze of the monsoon.

These damned fish people. The Dutchman’s crew fought more viscously than even Barbossa’s undead pirates. Who knew starfish could be so angry? You feared that their weapons, often tarnished and jagged, would catch on your own and leave you defenseless. I should’ve stayed on the Pearl. But there are fish people there now, too.

At least you weren’t alone. Elizabeth and Will were with you, as was Jack, though he seemed to be having difficulties of his own. If you hadn’t been fighting for your life, you might have been more amused. You had lost sight of most of your crew mates. You were too focused on the eel-headed freak in front of you to give your fellows much thought. With your swords locked, you had no other way to grapple with the beast. It hadn’t occurred to you that the eel could elongate its neck, which was exactly what it did, arching forward to bite at your face.

A moment later, the head lay at your feet, the slimy body collapsing beside it. James was there, sword in hand, looking at you with concern. That, or he’s squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes. You gave him a nod, stepping in closer.

“There are too many of them. We’ll never get to them all. Some of them are coming right out of the walls!” You both looked around yourselves at the endless numbers in the Dutchman’s crew.

“We only have to kill one.” James gestured towards the other end of the ship, where Davy Jones stood, lobster claw digging into the wood of the deck.

“We don’t have the heart.”

“But we both know who does.” James’ face was grim. “I should’ve stabbed it while I had the chance.”

You grabbed his arm. “No. You would be just like Jones, then, bound to this ship for eternity. You’d have no humanity left.”

“I’d be better than I am now.”

The comment broke your heart, but there were too many enemies around for you to focus on it. You slashed at a shark-headed monstrosity before James pulled you in close, stabbing something just behind you. Now isn’t the time for blushing. But James was holding you tightly to his chest, and you heard him shoot another member of Jones’ crew.

You hated to let go, but you had to duck under James’ arm to go after another, and another. Your back ended up pressed against James’, and you could feel each others’ heavy breathing.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this alive.” You had to shout to be heard over the thunderous racket. Between the rain, the gunfire, and the sharp clanging of swords, there was little room for words.

“It doesn’t seem likely.”

“You were trying to tell me something earlier.” Rain ran down your face in streams. “Now might be your only chance.”

James put a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “I wanted to apologize, for it all. I hope you’ll accept it.”

“Of course.” You grabbed the pistol from his side, leveling it at a creature behind his shoulder.

“You didn’t deserve what I did.”

You cupped his face with a hand. “I understand why you did it.”

“You were the only one who treated me like a person, then, on the Pearl.” He had grabbed your arm, keeping you close. It occurred to you that you were both going to die like this, paying too much attention to each other and not enough to your surroundings. “I can’t…” James took a steadying breath. “I can’t help but love you for it.”

You barely had time to process the words before his lips were on yours. Despite the storm, and the gunfire, and the clanging of swords—despite the knowledge that neither of you were going to make it out alive—the kiss was achingly tender, with so much softness and vulnerability that tears began to slip down your already soaked cheeks.

This won’t be such a bad way to go.

There was a sudden shuddering of the ship, and you and James had to cling to each other to keep upright. You looked up, only to find that the Pearl had broken away, her masts now untangled from the Dutchman’s.

You tugged at James’ arm. “We have to go. I think the ship’s going under.”

He nodded, and you found a loose line to swing over to the Pearl. The Dutchman sank not long after you hit the deck. The ship fell beneath the waves, sucked under by the storm.

“We still have to face Beckett.” James looked out over the water to where the British armada was advancing.

You could already feel some of the fight leaving you. How could you withstand an armada, when you’d barely defeated the Dutchman? “At least we have each other, now.”

James looked down at you. “Yes.” He cautiously wrapped an arm around your waist. “And after? If there is an after.”

You smiled teasingly. “I hope you don’t mind returning to piracy.”

James smiled back. “I don’t think I’ll mind at all.”

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #pirate #pirates #james norrington #norrington #James Norrington x reader #x reader #self insert #potc fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #potc imagine #writing #writings

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luvteez · 4 years

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game over

pairing: wooyoung x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut | blowjob wc: 1.7k

Five days. It’s been five days since Wooyoung came back home after months of touring and not seeing your face in ages. Five days since you two could finally spend time together. However, all he’s done in the last five days is claim the computer 24/7 to play PUBG with Yunho and San instead of catching up with you.

The audacity.

You wouldn’t consider yourself incredibly needy, but when you haven’t seen your boyfriend in six months because he was too busy globetrotting, it does take a toll on you. Not only on your hands and wallet (using the same toys over and over again does lead to boredom and only okay orgasms), but you can only exploit so much of your mental archive of masturbation-material Wooyoung lines and expressions. Not that you could ever grow tired of Wooyoung’s bedroom eyes and the way he bites his lips once he has you trembling beneath him, but recalling him in your memory is different than having him hovering over you in person whilst looking like he’s about to ruin you.

Five days. For five days you’ve pulled every trick in the book to get his attention but it was all in vain. That leaves you with one last option:

“Wooyoung, I’m horny.”

No reaction. Wooyoung’s eyes are glued to the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard. Your cheeks flare in both embarrassment and frustration when you realize he couldn’t have heard you in the first place because his headset is perched on his head, probably blaring Yunho and San’s voices into his ears.

And knowing Yunho and San, they’re fucking noisy.

Your patience has run out. Making sure he notices your existence once and for all, you lean forward to sling an arm around him before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Wooyoung yelps at first, then gradually relaxes once he realizes it’s only you. He mutes his mic before pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “Jeez, you scared me.”

You’re about to look up, expecting to meet his eyes. Instead, you’re greeted with his side profile and his attention set on his stupid game. Wow, what a nice and mindful boyfriend he is.

Fucking unacceptable.

You hear him let out a nervous chuckle when you begin to leave kisses on his neck. “Want your cock... Need you right now,” you mumble, grazing your teeth on a particular spot that has him sucking in a breath. “Only you can make me feel good.”

Your voice isn’t loud, but he catches every single syllable. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing when you lick a stripe up his neck before taking his earlobe in between your teeth. All the whilst, your free hand moves down to his crotch, feeling him grow stiff when you squeeze him down there. “Want you to ruin me.”

“Just let me finish this and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times,” Wooyoung says, strained. His eyes are still fixated on the computer, but by now they’re shaking. Something akin to pride swells in your chest. You’d never willingly tell him something that vulgar, only spit it out through gritted teeth whenever he forces you to. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so you suck it up.

“But I don’t want to wait—”

“(y/n), I said let me finish this first.” With that, he gently swats you away, not minding you a glance. You’re about to complain but your mouth remains silent and agape when he switches his mic on and apologizes to his friends for being unresponsive, ignoring you as if you weren’t right next to him.

The. Fucking. Audacity.

Another yap leaves him when you pull the chair away from the table, making just enough space to wiggle under it. His cheeks flare red as he glares down at you, signaling an unspoken ‘what the fuck are you doing?’. You innocently bat your lashes at him before pulling him closer and spreading his legs apart, making yourself comfortable right between them.

It’s then and there when Wooyoung gets it.

“The fuck are you thinking— oh god, ah f-fuck—” he hisses and immediately slumps against the chair when you palm him over his tight pants. He must’ve forgotten to turn off his mic because soon after, he hastily says, “Hm? What was what, Sannie? I’m good!”

Wooyoung gives you another glare but the effect falls flat. It’s near impossible to take his threat seriously when his bare arms are tense and there’s a visible tent in his pants. He makes several half-hearted attempts to pry your hand away from the zipper but soon enough, he gives up with a strained sigh and lets you do as you please before giving his all in the game.

You don’t waste any time in pulling down his jeans and briefs just enough to let his cock jump out. From above, you take notice of Wooyoung inhaling sharply through his nose, trying his damn hardest not to slip up. He must’ve kept the mic on.

Shit. You’re so going to take full advantage of that.

Wooyoung stiffens when he feels a light touch on his cock. He doesn’t rip his eyes away from the screen which makes you pout, but you don’t dwell on it too long. As your one hand focuses on his tip, slightly pressing into his slit where he’s the most sensitive, your other hand moves down to fondle his balls as well. Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut and almost fires at San’s character, breath growing shallow as he turns more aroused.

You continue to torment him by stroking his cock in an agonizing pace whilst rubbing at his slit repeatedly, making him squirm in place as he tried to come across to his friends as unbothered as possible over the headset. “Sorry, I didn’t see him coming at us,” Wooyoung apologizes meekly when San’s character dies for good this time.

Just when he thinks it couldn’t get any worse, enough precum has leaked from his tip. You coat his entire length with it, and he point-blank whimpers when you pump him with more pressure, the glide much smoother than before.

His cock is throbbing under your touch, and now that there’s precum all over, it makes your mouth water. You lean forward and tentatively lick up a stripe from the base to the tip before enclosing your mouth around him and dipping your tongue in his slit. Wooyoung moans embarrassingly loud and there’s no way that his friends haven’t caught up to it yet.

You peak another look at him. You could’ve come there and then.

The virtual battle in front of him is long forgotten as he covers his mouth with one hand; a pitiful attempt to hide his moans. His cheeks are flushed, eyes half-lidded.

“Shit— guys, my connection sucks ass. I gotta go,” is the last thing he says before he slides the headset off his ears and ditches the game. “And now you. Stop teasing and let me fucking cum,” he grunts and wastes no time threading his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t pull though, and neither does he buck his hips forward. Whether he’s doing it out of respect towards you or out of self-restraint with a glimmer of hope that you’ll be obedient, you can’t tell.

What you can say for certain is that you’re not having any of his behavior.

“Pay attention to me first!” you pout after pulling away from him with a vulgar pop, knowing how obscene you must be looking right now.

“Attention? You have all my attention now, sweetheart.” The way the words leave his lips is nearly feral and does nothing but fuel your arousal. “I threw the fucking game for you. Now make me cum before I fuck your mouth.”

As much as the latter sounds irresistible, you also value your vocal cords. Not wanting to push him any further, you take him back in your mouth inch by inch. A soft sigh falls from Wooyoung’s lips when you suck eagerly, running your tongue flat against the underside of his length. Everything that doesn’t fit in your mouth is what you cover with your hands, rubbing teasingly that has his hips slightly stuttering.

“F-fuck, how can you still be so good with your mouth— a-aah—” The grip on your hair tightens, the pain sending you shivers. You hum around him before sucking profusely on his tip. Wooyoung throws his head back in bliss, voice unstable when you lick all the precum that’s oozing out of his slit. “I’m gonna— soon—”

You take more of him in your mouth again until he hits the back of your throat. Tears well up in your eyes as you convulse around him, fighting your gag reflex. What you can’t cover with your mouth, your hands do. You begin to fondle with his balls once more, drawing out a high pitched moan from him.

“Shit, pull out now. Fucking pull out—” Wooyoung coughs, trying to push you away. But that only causes you to suck harder on him, whimper obscenely around his cock. He tugs on your hair repeatedly yet you hold your stand.

All of it becomes too much for him. He comes in long spurts, filling up your mouth. You moan when the warm liquid hits your throat, but don’t swallow immediately.

Wooyoung’s hair sticks to his damp forehead as he comes down from euphoria, blinking dazedly as he slowly pulls his softening dick out of you. He gapes at the sight of the string of cum connecting your mouth with his tip. And then notices a bit of white dribbling down your chin.

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he reaches forward to wipe the cum off your lip but backtracks when you swallow everything left in your mouth. “Did you just swallow? I take that back. You killed me.”

“Don’t die on me yet. You promised you’ll go down on me.”

“And I’m a man of my words.” Wooyoung chuckles before he tucks himself back in and pulls his pants up. “Now get on the fucking bed. It’s my turn to break you.”

[ tag list | @choisanah @starrychannies @centuryrecs ]

#ateez smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez dark hours #atz smut #luvsmut

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aerynwrites · 4 years

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This Unspoken Thing

Based off of my own idea but it also fits with the request: “Is that my shirt?” with Javier.

Author’s Note: Okay guys I was so excited to write this little Javier One-shot that was inspired by the song Temporary Bliss by the Cab. I highly HIGHLY recommend listening to this song either as you read or before, it was literally the reasoning behind this one-shot and I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sexual innuendos.

////

You huffed as you threw the covers off of you, the incessant knocking at your apartment door not giving you much of a choice. It was almost two in the morning, and even though you weren’t able to sleep, your late-night visitor was still unwelcome. You walked quickly from your room to the living room and to the front door, the knocking continuing nonstop the entire time. When you finally reach the source of the intrusion, you rip the door open, not even bothering to check to see who it was first.

“What the fuck do you - Javi?” you cut yourself off as you take in the familiar figure at your door. He’s leaning heavily on the door frame, swaying dangerously and reeking of alcohol.

You sigh, “What do you want Javier?”

He tries to stand up straighter, “We, uh - we had a date tonight, remember?” he informed you, words slurring together as they slipped past his lips. And despite his less than sober state, he managed to shove his way past you and into your apartment.

You rolled your eyes before closing your door and turning to follow him, “I told you I didn’t want to do this tonight Javi, remember?” you mock his earlier question.

He doesn’t respond to your statement, seemingly trying to rack his inebriated brain for the memory of that conversation. You turned, leaving him to think for a moment, while you walked into your kitchen. You grabbed the bottle of Tylenol from the counter and dumped two capsules into your hand before grabbing a glass and moving to the sink. As much as his presence annoyed you, you weren’t going to let him drive home in this state. You knew why Javier was here. You both had fallen into some unspoken agreement a year ago - he came to you or you went to him when you both needed the physical comfort of another person. It had all come about after he saddled up to you in the local bar, and as per usual for Javier, you ended up at his place. From there, it all just fell into place, this...unspoken thing. But the longer it had gone on, the harder it became for you to keep this relationship strictly casual. You had fallen hard for the bachelor DEA agent, and you knew that he could never feel the same about you. He just came to you when he wanted a good fuck, something to take his mind off the horrors of his everyday life - and it was slowly killing you.

“Is that my shirt?” a familiar baritone filled your ears as his arms wrapped around you from behind, breaking you from your thoughts.

His sudden appearance and close proximity to you made you jump, nearly dropping the glass in your hand into the sink. His question caused a blush to creep onto your cheeks, along with the fact that he was trailing his lips from your ear down your neck as his hands wandered down to the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. You were in fact wearing his shirt. It was one he had left at your place after one of your weekly rendezvous, and despite your conflicted feelings about your relationship with the man, it brought you comfort since his scent still clung to the soft cotton material.

A startled gasp slipped past your lips when you felt his hand slip up under the shirt and toy with the waistband of your underwear. You gripped his wrist harshly and pulled it away from you, turning to face him and pushing him away from you slightly.

“Javier, stop,” you bark, “I told you I didn’t want to do this tonight - and you’re drunk.”

He stumbles away from you, swaying unsteadily before watching himself. You take this moment of distraction to hand him the glass of water and two pain killers.

“Take these,” you instruct, watching as he does so without hesitation.

You tried to ignore the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he drank, tried to ignore the sliver of skin showing from where the top buttons of his shirt were undone, you tried to ignore the way he made butterflies erupt in your stomach just by being near you. Javier has always held this silent power over you - you would do anything for him - which is why this needed to end. You knew it could never be more than what it was. Javier wasn’t the settling down type, and who were you to change that?

Javier finished the glass of water just as you pushed off the counter and moved into the living room. He set his glass down and followed you, because even in his inebriated state he could tell something wasn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked as he entered the living room with you, steps still uneven as he tried to approach you, just wanting to touch you - feel your warmth under his fingertips.

You weren’t looking at him, you were facing your window, leaning against the couch. His fingers brushed your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your skin in their wake and you jerked away from his touch.

“I can’t keep doing this Javier,” you say finally, turning to face him but not meeting his eyes, “I’m calling off...whatever this is.”

His brain can’t keep up with what you’re saying, he doesn’t fully understand that you’re telling him but his mouth moves before he can stop himself, “Bonita, please, I -”

His words are slurred, and he moves to step closer to you but the toe of his shoe catches on the corner of the couch and sends him falling forward. He collapses unceremoniously onto the couch and for the first time tonight, you realize that you had never seen Javier this messed up before. He was usually good about holding his alcohol, able to drink you under the table several times over. Something must have been troubling him greatly for him to have drank so much.

You move around to where he lay on the couch, pushing on his shoulders when he tries to get up, “Stay there,” you order, “you need to sleep this off.”

Javier didn’t seem to argue, apparently lying down showed him how tired he actually was because he relaxed back into the cushions and threw an arm over his eyes. You rolled your eyes at him before kneeling down and pulling his shoes off, setting them at the end of the couch. You then pulled a blanket off the back and unfolded it, laying it over him gently. You heard him murmur something as the fabric settled over him and you leaned towards him slowly.

“Did you say something Javi?” you asked gently, not prepared for the words that fell from his lips.

“I love you, bonita,” he mumbled, warm brown eyes looking at you as he pulled his arm away from his face.

Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest and your breath hitched in your throat. Those words, the ones you had dreamed of hearing him say had finally slipped past his lips. You felt tears burn at the back of your eyes, too much happening for you to comprehend. You take a deep breath and turn away from him, standing quickly.

“You’re drunk Javi,” you whisper, walking away from him and towards your bedroom, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The minute you reached your room and climbed into bed, the tears started to fall from your eyes. You had wanted to hear those words for months, so the fact that he finally said them broke your heart. Because even though he had said them, you knew he didn’t mean it, not when he was completely hammered about to pass out on your couch. This night couldn’t get any worse it seemed.

The only hope you had as you drifted to sleep was that by morning, Javier wouldn’t remember anything.

***

The feeling of warm skin and light breaths is what woke you from your slumber the following morning. It didn’t take long for you to realize that at some point before you had woken up, Javier had slipped into your bed, and now - in the early morning light - his fingers were trailing up your arm and his face was tucked into your neck.

Neither of you say anything for a while, weighing your words before you speak. Finally, you decide to break the silence, causing his hand to fall and rest on your hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the skin exposed by your shirt that had ridden up.

“What do you remember?” you whisper, afraid that if you speak too loud you’ll break the delicate moment you two are sharing.

Javier doesn’t respond right away instead opting to press a few kisses to your neck before letting out a sigh, “Enough,” is all he offers.

You feel tears begin to collect in your eyes once more and you try to blink them away to no avail. You turn to face him and sit up forcing him to do the same.

“I can’t do this anymore Javier,” you whimper, wiping furiously at the tears falling from your eyes.

A confused look crosses his features, brows furrowing together as a hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, “What do you mean, querida?”

You let out a frustrated groan and rub at your eyes, still wet with tears before gesturing between the two of you, “This, Javier. Whatever the fuck this unspoken deal we have is. I just -” you take in a shuddering breath unable to meet his eyes, “It isn’t just casual for me anymore. I want more than these temporary meetings in the middle of the night, I want more than a quick fuck, Javier - I feel more for you than I know you feel for me,” you explain, “but then you come in here drunk off your ass last night and you touch me and you talk to me and you just - Fuck! You just do whatever it is you do when you’re around me,” you’re rambling now, voice wet with tears that won’t stop coming as you pour your heart out to the man who holds it in his hands.

“You’re like a drug that I can’t get enough of, but I know I can never have you the way I want, and I had finally come to terms with that - finally told myself that it was time to end things an then you -” you finally look at him and you shove his shoulder roughly, sadness turning into frustration, “You come over here, completely fucking drunk and tell me that you love me and it made everything worse because I know you didn’t mean it, but I do Javier!” you cry, “I love you - god, I love you so fucking much and it’s killing me to know you don’t love me back.”

By now you’re full-on sobbing, completely unaware of the shell shocked man sitting in front of you until finally, he moves from his statue-like position. He lunges forward, lips capturing yours in a kiss that was unlike any others you had shared as he pins you under him. It’s like he’s a drowning man who has finally found the air he needs to survive, as his lips move against yours hungrily. He finally pulls away, thumb brushing along your cheek as he takes in the swarm of emotions pooling in your eyes.

“I know what I said,” he finally tells you, “I remember - and I meant it. I love you bonita, so much.”

Your mouth opens and closes, unable to form words at this confession until you finally manage to sputter out, “W-what?”

Javier just gives you a smile before pressing a small kiss to your lips before trailing down your jaw and just below your ear, “I love you,” he whispers.

At his reassurance, you finally bring your hands up to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair, pulling his face back to yours and kissing him again, “I love you too Javi,” you breath against his lips.

You both smile into the kiss until Javier sits up on his knees pulling you with him so you’re straddling his lap. You let out a small gasp at the sudden change in position and look at Javier who is giving you a shit-eating grin as his fingers toy with the hem of the shirt you're wearing.

“Now,” he hums, “as much as I love my shirt on you, I think you’ll look even better without it,” he says, nuzzling into your neck as he inches the shirt slowly upwards.

And for the first time since he came over, you don’t stop him.

////

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#javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #Pedro Pascal #narcos x reader #narcos

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Note

May i request for Fem reader taking a contemporary dance class, and gets paired up with her long time crush, Suga for a sexy duet routine! Maybe they were having some trouble expressing the sexual/sensual chemistry, if ya know what i mean haha. Nsfw pls! 👀 (idk why but Suga kind of looks like someone who could dance lol)

Sugawara Koshi x You, His Irresistible Dance Partner (NSFW) 🎥

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A/N: You may lovely💞💞💞

I hope you like it:

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“And one, two......three, four.....five, si— No! Wrong again, Koshi!“

Hades Liv, the world reknowned contemporary dance instructor at Miyagi’s School of Dance pinched the bridge of her nose as she halted counts. The surrounding male and female dancers stopped abruptly once the counts did.

A sweating, tight tank top wearing, Sugawara Koshi stopped dancing too, obviously irritated. “Hades. Why are you calling my name when it’s Y/N who is messing up—“

“Excuse me!” You pinched your silver-haired dance partner on the bicep.

He rubbed his arm but paid no attention to you, widening his eyes at his sensei. “See how she acts?! Juvenile! She’s the one who cannot pirouette to the right—“

You scoffed in disbelief, turning to defend yourself to your instructor. “Me?! I’m the problem?! Oh coming from Mr. Ex Volleyball Player here, that’s rich! He wouldn’t know the difference between a spike and a Seconde Spin if you shoved it up his ass—“

“ENOUGH!” Liv stopped pinching the bridge of her nose to point at you two. “I put the two of you as centre partner routine because in my opinion you are the two most TALENTED dancers in my class. But look how you are acting! In front of the new dancers, no less! I am ashamed! All you two have done since I paired you is let your personal differences get in the way of your counts! This is DANCE. A dance that should portray inseparable lovers, but INSTEAD you two are giving me........FRENEMY! No, no, no! Leave the drama and issues outside of the STUDIO! Go get some water, both of you. And when you return we will discuss your future at this company.”

“With all due respect, Hades, he—“ you started to defend yourself after being chewed out by one of the most proficient dance instructors in Japan, but Suga grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room with him. He knew better than to talk back to sensei Hades when she was so obviously upset. He was very annoyed that you didn’t know the difference.

Once in the vacant dance studio hallway, Suga didn’t let go of your wrist, he only backed you up harshly against the cold wall, you just barely dodged the bulletin board of awards. He pressed his sweaty front against yours, hovering over you as he spoke darkly.

“Look.” Koshi took a deep breath as his eyes bored into yours. “I don’t know how or why they moved you up to this class....but you need to get it together. I do think you have the talent as a dancer but your professionalism? Forget it.”

You challenged him with your eyes, ignoring the way his minty breath fanning your face was making you wet in your panties.

“You’re rude. I was told Mr. Ex volleyball player was sweet as candy.”

“It’s true, I’m very sweet. Until you piss me off, congratulations.”

“I’m shaking.” You respond sarcastically.

“You will be if you make me mad enough. I will not lose my spot as point partner dance because of you.” He glared down at you heatedly.

“Right back at you.” A mad Suga meant a horny you, so maybe you spun incorrectly, maybe you toyed with him on purpose.

Just then, the door to the studio swung open and all the dancers filed out with their bags, signalling the end of the dance rehearsal.

“Koshi. New girl. Liv wants to see you two once everyone leaves. She’s waiting in there.”

Sugawara nodded, still trapping your warm body between him and the flat wall. You analyzed his brilliant neck. There were droplets of sweat dripping down from his Adam’s apple disappearing under his wifebeater. Damn did he look good in his wifebeater. You wanted to be that drop of sweat so baaad.

You pushed Suga off of you so that he couldn’t feel the way your heart sped up by having him so close when you weren’t dancing.

Yes, you had a major crush on the Jack Frost look alike a.k.a ex-volleyball player turned dancer. Look at him.

No, you would not admit it to anyone but yourself.

“After you.” Suga smirked as he opened the door for you to re-enter the studio. You gave him a sickly sweet sarcastic grin and waltzed in.

Upon arrival, Hades was pacing around the room, staring only at the floor. She was a beautiful elderly woman, lean figure with a big grey afro and dark skin that hasn’t aged a decade.

“I have a plan.” She announced as you and Koshi stood next to each other in front of her. “You two are only lacking one thing: fire. I’m getting ice. The dance moves are there but I need to FEEL the heated chemistry.” She stopped pacing, looking at the two of you with hopeful eyes. “My plan is quite theatrical, but the show is in 3 days. You leave me no choice. I have no other two dancers good enough that I could replace you with, and I refuse to let my dance company be embarrassed.”

“What will you have us do?” Koshi asked: scared-like. You looked up at him and saw that there was slight fear in his handsome face.

It made you apprehensive because Suga knew Hades Liv much better than you did having danced with her for years. For you, it’s only been 4 months. You gulped.

Hades sauntered over to her floral bag that she kept by the mirror. The bag no one was allowed to touch.

Beside you, Suga froze. “Don’t do it, Hades.............” He whispered under his breath and you nudged him.

“Don’t do what??” You whispered back in a panic. “Koshi what are you afraid of—oh.”

The lean dance mogul had retrieved what she wanted from the bag, holding it up for the two of you to see.

You gasped.

Suga looked away in anger.

They were a pair of handcuffs. ⛓

“If you two want to be a part of my show this Friday, then I want you two handcuffed for 8 hours a day, everyday, until the show.”

“But—“ you started, as to which Suga just shushed you rapidly.

“Got it.” He said.

“Good.” Liv replied, with a smile for her favourite student. “I’m glad there are no issues, Suga.” She threw the handcuffs over and Suga caught them. Hades glared at you. “And Y/N. I hope there are no issues on your part. I would hate for a new dance career to be over before it even started, because other companies heard that a certain new dancer couldn’t get her first big role together.”

You gulped again before letting your head fall in defeat.

and that’s how you ended up handcuffed to your silver haired crush for 8-hours a day, for 3 days

It was.....interesting

Mainly because.....

....About 3 of those hours each day were spent getting your back blown out since Suga couldn’t keep his eyes closed like he promised to when you had to undress

The truth is, Suga had a major crush on you, too, ever since the first day you walked into class and Liv had announced you’d be his partner

Just like you, he tried to disguise his strong attraction by putting up a metaphorical wall as to not let you see how fucking horny you made him every time you danced together

That means you two had double the walls stopping you from connecting through dance

Hades Liv could see the walls. And that’s why she handcuffed the two of you

The sexual tension between you two adults was through the roof and it was getting in the way of the success of her dance company? Oh hell no.

Handcuff tf up, she said

You weren’t complaining though,

Not anymore.

Not when it was the day before the show and Suga had pulled you into one of the many empty studios in Hades’ building.

He locked the doors and slipped his finger down the front of your leggings, using his skilled setter hand (that wasn’t handcuffed) to finger you to ecstasy.

You moaned loudly as he skimmed your sweet spot within.

Using his mouth to shut your moans up in a searing hot kiss, he pushed you over the edge to your orgasm.

“Fuck. You’re so hot, Y/N.” Suga ground his erection into your side as he pulled his finger out of your heat and proceeded to tug down your leggings fully. The hands that were handcuffed he held above your head like he did before when he grabbed your wrist. It mystified you how amazing this man was at sex with only one freaking free hand, but like I said—you weren’t complaining:

You were moaning.

Constantly.😩

Once he got your leggings down to your ankles and you stepped out of them, using his working hand to hitch one of your legs around his hips before he pushed his hard dick into your dripping heat.

You cried out in pleasure as Suga roughly pounded into you, kissing you at the same time. He was a phenomenal kisser.

Once you got a hold of your moans Suga pulled away from the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to fuck the shit out of you for months.” he fanned his minty breath on your face again as he drilled into you. You whimpered.

“I have to stop fucking you or else you won’t be able to dance anymore.” He grunted as he got deeper.

“No!” You pleaded. “Please d-don’t ever, stop—Koshi!”

Koshi smiled his sweetheart smile that made everyone think he was an angel.

Yeah right. He wasn’t an angel to you when it came to giving you unrelenting orgasms.

Suga pulled out his cock swiftly, using his handcuffed hand to spin you around much like one of the elegant dance moves in your routine. He pressed his cuffed hand on the mirror over yours and moved your other hand to do the same so he was behind you. Seeing you in the mirror as he started fucking you from behind.

“You’re gorgeous.” He moaned, watching your erotic expressions through the mirror as he thrusted into the pussy that he could only describe as magical. He held onto your hips to steady you as he drilled in from behind.

Watching you made him hornier and hornier in the process.

“I love to see all your expressions in the mirror like this, Y/N. You are gorgeous when you dance and you are gorgeous when you are taking my dick.” He slapped your ass making you clench around his dick. “You feel so good inside, my dear partner. Better than I ever imagined. Can you open those pretty eyes for me?”

You listened to your dance partner, looking at him through the mirror with drowsy eyes. Suga thought you looked so sexy.

“Oh, yes....” He moaned and drilled harder. He stared at your bare dancer legs that he always secretly stared at while you stretched. You started to moan too loud and there were classes going on so Suga clasped his free hand over pretty mouth.

“Shhhhhhh. If we get caught, I won’t make you cum.”

“Zefyestfbiujxrbjdnislxapdwjdu...” You tried saying ‘I promise, Suga, please...’ under his hand.

Suga slowed his pounding to a slow thump, knowing from this mornings fuck that you liked it nice and slow when you were on the edge.

You reached your second climax, screaming into his hand.

Suga followed soon after you.

“I’m going to miss not being handcuffed to you after we perform, my beautiful partner,” He sighed.

on the night of the performance, Hades had cried happy tears because she had never received a standing ovation so long

The amount of raving reviews from Japanese critics about Hades’ dancers’ astonishing chemistry and heat retention about all performers but namely Suga and you, was unprecedented!

It skyrocketed your dance careers

And brought so much money to Hades’ Dance company and studio

The next evening after cool down and before the wrap party, you and Suga approached Hades in her office to return the handcuffs she leant you...

The beautiful Afro’d dance instructor just studied Suga in his entirety, then you— with an eyebrow raise. She did this for one whole minute.

“Keep it.” Hades insisted finally, before spinning her office desktop screen around so you and Koshi could see.

On her computer screen, were several small boxes showing the real-time camera footage of every single studio room in her building. Currently vacant. Both yours and Koshi’s heart dropped when you noticed that the 5th camera box demonstrated the same studio Koshi gave you several orgasms in in yesterday. Feeling like throwing up, you looked away from your instructor’s screen... back up into the dancing pupils of Hades Liv. “Please, keep it.”

She smiled at both of you before proceeding to walk out of her office.

“You two might get way more use out of it than I will.”

#sugawara koshi #hq smut #hq headcannons #haikyu headcanon #haikyuu!!#sugawara smut #sugawara x y/n #sugawara x reader #hq sugawara #sexy hq boys #haikyu requests

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saipng · 4 years

Text

me? write a frenrey one shot fanfic with them drunkenly playing truth or dare? it’s more likely than you think

Nights like these made it all worth it.

The lulling whir of the air conditioner kissed his flushed cheeks as the sound of dying laughter dissipated through the air. The noise of the streets outside the window and the quiet chatter of the TV filled the room instead, and the smell of home cooked food mixed with old cologne and alcohol seemed to cling to his very clothes. His eyes traced the long shadows cast in red, pink, and blue, painting the familiar scene in technicolors.

It was nights like these, Gordon thought, that made it all worth it.

Joshua was long asleep in his room, snuggled next to his favorite plush toy of a head crab that Bubby (lovingly) stitched together out of old scraps of clothing. Tommy arrived first, as was usual, tagging Sunkist along and letting her carry a bottle of wine between her teeth. Dr Coomer and Bubby came later, always together, always the same chorus of ‘Hello, Gordon!’s, always a big bright smile and a warm tingle in his heart. Darnold arrived late, later than he usually would if he were to come at all, but this time he brought his ‘strongest potions’ and Gordon was equal parts terrified and excited to try them out.

Benrey was already there by the time Gordon remembered him. He always simply appeared, but even that became routine at this point.

Gordon never invited any of them.

It was enough, he thought, that they would come over like this, with food and alcohol and maybe a DVD or a board game, and they would spend their time in peace and (relative) quiet. Having the company was enough.

Gordon smiled, sudden warmth spreading through his belly.

“Hey-Hey guys,”- He stuttered, trying to get up on his already slightly shaky feet, the attention of the room shifting towards him from the TV as The Science Team all turned their heads in unison.

“Woah- Um, okay. Creepy. Guys, do you wanna like- Hey guys, do you wanna play Truth or Dare?”

It wasn’t the first time they would be playing it, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Bubby, particularly competitive in, well, everything, immediately perked up.

“What, you itching to lose just like last time, you little bitch boy?”

“Okay, just because I refused to drink an entire glass of bleach doesnt mea-“

“Bitch boy!”

“Um, I would like to go first, Mr Freeman!”- Tommy piped up, having a surprising competitive streak in him too.

Truth or Dare, for most people, was a game of fun and embarrassment and messing around. For The Science Team, it was more like a battle for dominance and glory.

Most of their games were, actually. Gordon already lost 6 packs of Uno cards to fire, and Jenga is completely forbidden in his apartment for the foreseeable future. And god forbid he ever saw anyone with a box of Monopoly ever again.

Gordon took an uncertain step, steadying his feet as he raised his glass and nodded, -“Sure, Tommy. Truth or Dare?”

“Oh, and why do you get to ask,”- Bubby piped up, crossing his arms.

“Because I offered the game, alright? Now-“

“Truth or Dare, Tommy?”- Dr Coomer took over, and Tommy immediately replied with a resolute “Dare”.

“Fantastic choice, my young friend!”- The older man smiled, and then his face immediately turned to stone. Gordon swallowed, on the edge of his seat (still standing) at what might come next.

Dr Coomer was known for going to the extremes. His dares were either along the lines of “Do a chicken dance” or “Drink this glass of bleach” (which was exactly where Gordon drew the line last time). One time he dared Bubby to eat a pack of ramen raw, and the maniac actually did it.

Once Dr Coomer opened his mouth again, Gordon’s heart sank to his feet.

“I dare you to drink-“

“No! No more bleach drinking! That is banned forever, okay, it’s-“

“-An entire glass of Dr Darnold’s strongest potion!”

Gordon paused in his tracks. Suddenly, the bleach idea didn’t seem to be as bad.

He threw a quick glance at the man in question, who seemed to be perfectly beaming at the suggestion.

“Why, I do think my potions are way too strong for you, Tommy! The side effects can be unpredictable!”- He exclaimed, already reaching over the precariously shaped vial, -“Now, I will need you to have a bucket by your side and a pack of ice and maybe a pair of tweezers-“

“I will be fiiiiine,”- Tommy slurred, more determined than ever. He was not one to pass up a dare, no matter how insane it sounded. Gordon began to wonder whether he had any tweezers lying around, just in case.

In the next second, with an agility unbecoming of a man as drunk as he already was, Tommy threw back the glass and Gordon watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed at every resounding gulp. He couldn’t help his jaw clenching as the fiery burn resonated in his own throat at the sight, a shiver running down his spine, The feeling was something akin to watching a car crash, the horrifying fascination making his stomach turn when Tommy thumped the vial back on the table and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

He had to sit back down for this.

“go, tommyyyyyy!”- Benrey shouted from somewhere behind the couch, and for once, Gordon agreed wholeheartedly. At this point, he was pretty certain that Tommy was the most badass person he knew.

“Hoo! Yeah! Woo- Aw-Awright, z-zat- Eazy! Eazier zan... zan.....!”- Tommy blinked hard, his eyes clouded over as he tilted further and further to his right, and yeah, maybe he was going to have the worst night/morning of his life, but damn if the street cred he earned in that moment wasn’t worth it.

“Cake!- Darnold helpfully supplied, and Tommy forcefully threw himself at the man to give him a huge hug.

“Iz cake!”- He slurred from Darnold’s shoulder, waving an arm around way too close to Bubby’s face, -“Whoza next!?”

“Gordon!”- The latter smirked, slapping away Tommy’s hand and leaning further back into Coomer.

Gordon turned his head so fast his neck cracked, a slight headache immediately forming from the whiplash.

“No!? What!? No, I didn’t agree to that. Why me!?”- He began pouring himself another drink. Suddenly he was really craving some of that strongest potion.

“Because you offered the game, right?”- Bubby grinned, and Dr Coomer nodded in agreement.

“You did offer the game, Gordon.”

“I know I offered the damn- Hey, why don’t we have someone else go, huh!? Why not- Why not Benrey?”- At the mention of his name, said being popped his head up and stared directly back at Gordon, -“He, like, never participates! What’s up with that!”

And he wasn’t lying, either. For someone who consistently talked about gaming, Benrey almost never took part in their late night competitions. Gordon could never tell why – he could never, ever tell why anything with this guy – but to him this felt almost deliberate. Of course, everything Benrey did felt deliberate – that is, he was always deliberately trying to get on Gordon’s nerves.

And this time was no exception.

“huh?”- Came the simple response, and the burn in Gordon’s stomach turned to a burn in his chest.

“Yeah, you never do anything! Here we are, running around like headless chickens, doing whatever stupid shit we want each other to do, and you just sit there!”

“whu-?”

“What, you think this is like, some kinda free show for you? Some kinda performance piece!? No, nope, that won’t do, buddy. You’re gonna participate or you’re gonna get the hell out of here, alright? Truth or Dare?”

“dare”

The reply came so fast, Gordon nearly lost his footing while sitting. He blinked down at the glass in his hand, brows furrowing in concentration.

Alright, sure, cool. Maybe he didn’t expect Benrey to actually answer. And maybe he definitely didn’t expect him to choose dare. This was fine. It was fine.

Gordon poured himself another drink.

“daaaaare,”- Benrey whined at the same time as Bubby said “The man has chosen dare, Gordon, now will you please give it to him!”

“Alright, alright; don’t shout at me, I’m thinking!”

“Well, think faster!”

“It is rude to make other people wait, Gordon,”- Dr Coomer pursed his lips as Tommy may or may not have said something in agreement. He was now more than half lying on Darnold, who didn’t seem to care in the least, and his hand was absentmindedly stroking Sunkist’s back.

Knowing him, though, he most definitely was on Benrey’s side here. They all always were.

“Would you like some ideas, Dr Freeman?”- Darnold offered, and Gordon reached his boiling point.

“No! No, alright, I got it! I dare you to, uh,”- Gordon looked Benrey over, his stupid acidic gamer slogan hoodie making his retinas hurt, watched as the same hooded eyes not blink as they stared back, dull, unseeing, bored, overcast in a shadow that seemed to be permanently encasing his sharp face. And then Gordon scrunched up his nose as he said with the most vitriol possible, -“I dare you to take off you stupid beanie.”

It was but a beat of silence before Benrey, understandably this time, went, - “huh???”

“You heard me,”- Gordon doubled down this time, fully recognizing how stupid and inconsequential his dare seemed in comparison to Coomer’s, but damn if he wasn’t going to insist on it now, -“Come on. Show us what’s under there. Show us what- Show us what you’re hiding.”

Benrey blinked once. Then twice.

And then he was suddenly making his way towards the front of the room, crawling on all fours like an animal, and his gaze pointedly fixed on Gordon as he said “ohhhhh does feetman wanna- does feetman wanna see my secret parts. does feetman wanna take a glance at my uhhhh my special place”

Gordon nearly choked on his drink, a renegade laugh escaping this throat as he desperately tried not to have vodka pour out of his nose.

“What the FUCK, man, don’t call it that!?”

“what next, you gonna ask me to take my shoes off. maybe my socks? i’m gonna need to see a signed permission for that first”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”- Gordon slammed the table as he keeled over, and he could almost physically feel Bubby rolling his eyes.

“You gonna do it or what!?”- He nudged Benrey with his foot so that the other nearly toppled over.

“what, that it”

“Wh-What?”- Gordon managed in between taking deep breaths, feeling the room sway slightly from side to side. He hated how everything the guard said made him lose his shit. He especially hated it right then, when he was staring right at him with that self-confident smirk that still somehow managed to look bored. He hated it so much.

“is that all? weak”

“What, you wanna take off your shirt too? Be my guest, man, fucking- Strip down to your pants. Do it. You won’t.”

Benrey stared at him.

Gordon regretted every decision he ever made that led him up to this point.

Benrey smiled.

And then in one confident motion he ripped off his hoodie, his beanie coming along with it.

He threw them to the side, the pile of clothes landing on Sunkist, who didn’t seem to mind in the least, and this was exactly the point where Gordon realized that this was a bad, bad, horrifically bad idea.

He didn’t know what he expected to see when Benrey took off his hat (or helmet or whatever other stupid thing he was wearing at the time), didn’t really think about it (or tried not to) but damn if it wasn’t this. It was just - just hair. Completely normal hair, almost insultingly so, jet black and cropped short to his skull. But it wasn’t even the hair that was the biggest offender - no, it was the now completely open, completely normal and completely handsome face that was staring back at him. Completely human, completely right, and so disgustingly unobscured that it made Gordon’s stomach do back flips that would have scored tens all around at the Olympics.

When Benrey’s fingers twitched to remove the undershirt that he had underneath, he knew he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay, fuck! We- We get it! You did the dare, alright, enough! That’s just indecent exposure at this point! Chill out, man!”

Benrey didn’t reply, but didn’t move to strip down any more. Gordon allowed himself to breathe again.

He was way too drunk for this.

He poured another drink.

After an uncomfortable stretch of terrible silence where Gordon could acutely feel the burn in his face and shoulders, Dr Coomer finally spoke up with an “That was a shitty dare, Gordon!”

“Yeah, it was horribly underwhelming. Not even writhing snakes underneath that thing,”- Bubby immediately joined, and at that Tommy perked up only to mumble “badgers” and then fall back down onto Darnold, knocking them both over to the floor.

Gordon couldn’t keep in the laughter that bubbled up from his stomach, and he had to look for support if only to stay upright. At this point, he was certain that if he were to fall down, he would not get back up again.

Of course, it just so happened that this time his closest support structure was Benrey, and by the time he realized that he was grabbing onto the other’s shoulder, it was way too late. Benrey was already staring at him, a smirk stretching over his lips that, without the ever-present shadow painting over his eyes, now looked almost... Nice. Sweet.

Gordon shifted in his seat, slowly removing his hand and clearing his throat.

That’s right. Play it cool. Play it cool.

Easier said than done, though, especially considering Benrey’s skin was practically burning next to him.

Gordon pulled at his hair tie, freeing his curls if only to have something covering his face. Dammit, Freeman, play it cool!

“Alright, which of you lightweights is going to go next?”- Bubby sighed, clearly resigning to being an observer this round, rather than a participant.

“gordon,”- Came a voice directly from Gordon’s right, and he immediately opened his mouth in protest.

Only to be shut up by Bubby before saying a single word, -“If you even so much as make a single sound besides “Truth” or “Dare”, I swear to fuck I will set your curtains on fire.”

Gordon was really tempted to say “Fuck off, not again”.

Instead, he resigned to whispering, “...Truth.”

“huh? what was that? truth? does little baby want truth? does little baby want his truth bottle?”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole, that doesn’t even make sense. The game isn’t called Dare or Dare, I can choose what I want.”

“stupid shitty baby can’t even handle this truth.”

Gordon snorted, fists curling up at his sides as he inhaled sharply, turning to face the permanent annoyance of his life that was Benrey.

“Okay. Okay. You know what? Okay! You wanna dance Benrey, huh? You wanna dance? Then let’s fucking dance. It’s dare. I choose dare. Hit me.”

Benrey’s smile only widened as Gordon’s heart sank deeper and his ears tingled with a warmth that was unwelcome, but not unfamiliar. And before either one of them could make a move, there was the distinct sound of clothes shuffling, the noise of something breaking, and then Tommy was kneeling on the floor, swaying from side to side like a piece of grass in a gentle breeze, finger pointed up, eyelids half closed as he barely managed out an, “I d-daaare- I dare Miste-ww Freeemann and B-Ben- Rey- To danz!”

Having finished his incredible statement, Tommy fell onto his other side, head landing right on Sunkist, and Darnold gently patted him on the shoulder mumbling “There, there.”

Gordon could only side eye the other scientists. He would be laughing right now, really, if he wasn’t so perfectly outraged by the proposition.

“Uh, how about no? You know I love you Tommy, but if you think that even for a second-“

“chicken man.”

“...What?”

“gordon freeman more like. more like gordon fowlman.”

“Hah, that was a clever one, Benrey! Keep it up!”- Dr Coomer encouraged, and Gordon really didn’t need that in his life right now.

“I’m not afraid to dance with you, I-“

“chickon fowlman”

“Fucking stop, alright! We’re both drunk as shit, and I doubt any one of us is a good dancer, we’re probably gonna break some-“

“what, no. i’m a great dancer. i’m the best- the bestest at dance. moves. number one in just dance 2003 on the playstation 2- got an award. a diploma. what do you got. stupid chicken legs. cluck cluck cluck, i’m idiot baby, i can’t dance-“

Gordon was on his feet in seconds, the room spinning around like a freaking kaleidoscope, but he’d be damned if he let this pretty- this cute- this shitty garbage sack believe that he was better than him. Even if it was true.

At this point, he was more than drunk, he was pissed, he was warm, and he wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of Benrey’s face if it was the last goddamn thing he did. If that meant he needed to dance, then he was going to fucking dance.

“Fine, okay, sure! Let’s go, let’s fucking go, go, go! Dr Coomer, hit us with a beat!”

If it was a dance battle Benrey wanted, it was a battle he was going to g-

The soft sound of a gentle piano was definitely not what Gordon expected to come out of the- Of Dr Coomer...? He honestly wasn’t sure where Dr Coomer was producing the sound from, but that mattered less at the moment than the particular sound being produced - which certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.

“What the fuck!? What is this shit?”

“Gordon, this track is As Time Goes By by the Claude Williamson Trio-“

“No, no, I don’t give- Who cares about the name of the track!? We’re not fucking slow dancing! Give us something with a beat!”

“But Gordon, I enjoy this song.“

This was yet another moment where Tommy decided to speak up, suddenly raising his hand with one finger pointing at the ceiling, his voice muffled by the perfect dog’s fur as he muttered “I- I dare Mr Freeman- and- and Benrey to- to Slow. Dance. For fiiiiiiiiiiive miiiiiinuuuuuutesssssssss.”

His hand fell back to the floor with an audible thump.

“No! Hey, no, that’s not- That’s not in the rules! You can’t just change the original dare like-“

“Oh my god, silently! Quietly! Without words! Slow dance for five fucking minutes with your mouths shut tight, okay! That’s your fucking dare!”- Bubby threw his arms up, and the reflection in his glasses told Gordon that his curtains are very much in immediate danger.

This was dumb. This was more than dumb, this was shitty, stupid, against all rules, and really, he should just kick them all out and be done with it all.

So, like any rational and sound-minded person, Gordon swallowed down the horrible tightness in his throat, and opened up his arms in an invitation.

He didn’t mean to bite his lip when Benrey approached him, really, he didn’t, but his chest refused to stop pounding, his arms felt sticky and gross, and his vision was only ever so slightly blurry when he reached out his hand and grabbed Benrey’s.

“I’ll lead,”- He barely whispered, maybe more like mouthed so that didn’t count, and Benrey did not protest for once, his other hand finding his way over to Gordon’s shoulder. Gordon hesitated only a second before lightly guiding his fingers to the other’s waist.

There was a moment of certain panic, blood freezing over as an electric current ran through his spine, sudden realization that he couldn’t remember the last time he danced with anyone flooding his senses, before being replaced with a gentle, coaxing burn when he felt Benrey pull at him and take a step backwards. Gordon swallowed hard again, allowing his drunkenness to overtake for a moment, letting himself sway ever so gently as he tried his best to guide the other around the room. This wasn’t exactly a waltz, not even close, but at least he was conscious enough not to step on any feet or trip over his own.

This was... excruciating.

He didn’t know where to look, eyes darting around the room like he was desperately looking for an escape, and his hands and hair felt altogether way too sweaty for any of this. He didn’t want to hear Benrey’s slightly exalted breathing, the firm press of his hand in Gordon’s own, the feeling of those dark, dark, immensely dark eyes staring right into his very being. Five minutes, Gordon learned by the first 30 seconds, was an outrageously long time.

It was only around the second minute mark, when Gordon was certain he was going to pass out before finishing the dance, that his vision darkened for a split second, and it wasn’t before long that a feeling of complete and utter surrender washed over him. Shoulders dropping down, muscles releasing with an almost audible click, he felt his anxiety dissipate in the air along with that unbearable, pulsating heat. The only thing left was his heavy eyelids defiantly staying open and the soft sound of the piano keys running through the air. He willed his head to turn to Benrey then, finally allowing himself to make eye contact for the first time, and the sea of gently glowing blue orbs around them nearly overwhelmed his vision.

“calm down,”- Benrey mouthed, and Gordon gladly obeyed, nodding his head ever so slightly.

His arms felt like cotton, like melting butter, so he allowed both his hands to travel to Benrey’s lower back, not able to keep them up anymore. Benrey, in turn, gently wrapped his own arms around Gordon’s neck, and Gordon couldn’t find it in him to protest.

He could find it in him to be delighted, though.

He didn’t know what it was, exactly - the alcohol, the forced silence, or the gentle blue light that filled his very soul, but he suddenly felt braver, braver than he had ever been before. But more importantly, he felt curious - and so he tugged Benrey a little closer, just that much. He knew it was but a gentle pull - no, he was certain of it. The rest of the way between their bodies Benrey closed on his own.

Gordon’s stomach ignited in fireworks, his ribs prickling with the sensation of the other flush against him, the touch of his skin intoxicating in ways he didn’t remember were possible.

And all the while, his eyes were glued to Benrey’s, almost morbidly mesmerized by the two dark caverns that refused to reflect light and seemed to only take, take, and take.

Benrey’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Gordon couldn’t help the genuine smile that easily found its home on his face, couldn’t help the breath that got stolen when he saw that same smile reflected on Benrey’s own.

His fists balled in the other’s thin shirt, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so secure.

Serene. Right.

It’s nights like these, Gordon thought, that make everything worth it.

The last note played, the orbs burned out, and the only thing left standing in the middle of it all were the two of them, still clinging one to another, breathing hard as though they have just finished an intense exercise routine, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

And Gordon felt as though something unspoken has passed between them in that one moment.

And in the next, raucous applause followed, mostly provided by Dr Coomer, with Darnold gently joining in. Bubby let out a few claps as well, and they almost didn’t sound sarcastic.

“Bravo, Gordon! What a beautiful display of emotion!”- Dr Coomer kept on clapping, wiping a tear away from one eye as he cheered, -“For 2 Play Coins, I can replay the same song again!”

“N-No- Uhm-“- Gordon began, feeling his throat as dry as a summer in a dessert, having to cough violently as he practically peeled himself from Benrey. The immediate cold and overall shittiness that followed almost weren’t worth it, -“Ahem. That’s- That’s quite alright.”

“Ah shit, there he goes on talking again,”- Bubby rolled his eyes, and the atmosphere seemed to return to normal.

Benrey went to sit next to Tommy’s most probably unconscious form, and Gordon, after hesitating for way too long, sat down on the opposite side of the room.

A decision he came to regret immediately, if the brief look Benrey gave him was anything to go by.

How that permanently bored, expressionless face could carry so much emotion, Gordon would never know.

What he did know was that he needed another goddamn drink.

And from that point on, it was a huge blur. There were more dares, of course. He was pretty sure Darnold had to do a keg stand and Coomer and Bubby had to exchange clothes.

It was all stupid.

It was all ridiculously fun.

Gordon didn’t feel right throughout any of it.

His mind only came back online closer to morning, when the only thing keeping him awake was the constant noise of conversation and sheer willpower.

“truth,”- Benrey said, crude drawings of Sunkist now decorating both his arms. Gordon wasn’t sure if this was part of a dare or if he just did that for no reason.

“You want to mix it up a little, eh? Think this will be easy, don’t you?”- Bubby’s smile was sharp, all teeth and evil intent, and Gordon suddenly was really happy he wasn’t at the receiving end of that. Bubby was the most entertaining when he was being mean to someone else.

“hit me.”

“Okay. So. Who, out of this group, do you have a crush on?”

Oh. So Gordon was on the receiving end of that after all, huh.

He didn’t know why was it, exactly, that that question hit him like a pile of bricks. But it did. And now he was anxiously staring at Benrey, heart beating so fast it threatened to break through his rib cage.

Benrey, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly as panicked. He just... kept on staring at the floor. And he kept on staring. And he kept on staring until he finally blurted out an. “bbbb.... d.... coomer.”

“I am flattered, Benrey, but I am quite happily married,”- Dr Coomer replied hugging Bubby close, who only rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Bullshit! It’s called Truth, now say the goddamn truth!”

It was at this moment that Benrey’s eye met Gordon’s.

It was at this moment that Gordon knew precisely what to do.

In a move that probably required him to be way more sober, he kicked the table so hard that half the glasses and bottles on top of it tumbled over, some rolling to the floor and breaking with a resounding crash.

“Fuck! What the fuck!”- Bubby exclaimed, throwing his feet up on the couch, and even Tommy came back to life for a second to look around, before passing back out on Sunkist again.

“Careful, Dr Freeman! These babies can melt through concrete!”- Darnold immediately busying himself with picking up his vials, and Gordon took this moment to stand up, exaggerating his slur and wobbliness (though not by much) when he said, -“Woo... Huh... Sorry- Sorry, guys, I must have- Man, I’m dying, I think I- I need sleep, guys, I-“

“Yes, yes, we get the message,”- Bubby sighed, as Dr Coomer immediately laid straight down on the couch, forcibly pulling him down as well, -“Goodnight, Gordon.”

“Good night, Gordon!”- Coomer echoed, closing his eyes and passing out within seconds.

“Take care, Dr Freeman,”- Darnold nodded, before snuggling up next to Sunkist and Tommy.

Well, that was easy. If there was one thing about The Science Team that Gordon appreciated most of all, it was how they didn’t bother asking questions. It was better that way, really.

He should be a better host and at the very least get them blankets, Gordon thought, carefully avoiding the broken glass as he made his way across the room.

This was a problem for tomorrow’s Gordon.

Now, however, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Benrey stood up as Gordon approached him, staring silently, before turning around and abruptly making his way to the entrance.

“Wa- Wait- Benrey, wait!”- This time it wasn’t an exaggeration when Gordon nearly tripped over his own feet. His head was throbbing with a headache unlike any other, but he shut that part up for a brief second. More important matters, -“Where the hell are you going!?”

“away?”- Benrey replied as though that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But- Wait- I mean. Why? You can stay here? I’m not kicking you out?”

He stared. And then he stared some more.

It was true that Benrey usually disappeared before morning came, like some sort of vampire that could only come out at night. Gordon never questioned it, never bothered to ask him why he left – it didn’t matter that his apartment always felt a little emptier.

It didn’t matter before, but it mattered now.

“I mean- I know there’s not a lot of room, and the guys are all over the living room, but, y’know, my bed is a double, so if you wanna, you can-“

“i don’t sleep”

Gordon blinked down, the ramble in his head and his words interrupted by this simple poignant statement. He tilted his head, desperately trying to keep standing upright.

“What? Like, at all? That’s bullshit man, that’s complete- and I- I saw you, okay, I saw you sleeping in-“

“kind of gay of you. watching me sleep. wanna see my hair then. then taking my shirt off then. then dancing with me like-“

“Shhh- Shut up, shut up!”- Gordon hissed, taking Benrey by the hand and quietly leading him back to the bedroom. There was no way he would be able to handle this conversation standing up, -“This isn’t- It’s not like that, okay, it’s-“

“It’s not?”

It wasn’t often that Gordon was able to tell what Benrey was thinking or feeling at any given moment. In this instance, however, the disappointment in his voice was so palpable that he could almost taste it on his tongue.

“N-No! Wait, I mean- Yes? I mean- I- I don’t fucking knoooow, man,”- He sighed, dropping down on the bed, head immediately spinning like the propellers of a helicopter, heart drumming, jaw aching, -“I just- I’m too drunk, Benrey. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t- I just know I don’t want you to leave.”

He didn’t know if that was enough. It didn’t sound enough to him.

But to Benrey, apparently, it was.

In a moment the space besides Gordon felt the bed beside him dip, that already familiar heat seeping through his skin like nuclear radiation, overwhelming him whole.

He felt himself magnetized, moving closer to it almost unconsciously, keeping his eyes closed to prevent the room from spinning crazy. His hand worked of their own volition, desperately searching for anything to hold, and when he felt a set of fingers interlace with his own, he allowed himself to exhale all the tension in his shoulders.

“Thanks,”- He whispered, snuggling in closer, inhaling a scent that was near acidic, but not unpleasant. He didn’t know how he would justify this to himself tomorrow, didn’t want to think about that just yet, and he heard a stream of sweet voice being spread around the room.

He opened his eyes just for a second, just a brief moment to register the vibrant pink floating around his bedroom, the gentle glow that outlined Benrey’s hooded eyes, and for once he thought he could recognize something in them.

Gordon exhaled softly, holding on for dear life.

“Goodnight,”- He said, or maybe thought, or maybe imagined, his consciousness finally fading into sweet darkness.

“gordon,”- Benrey replied then, quiet, soft, and with the certain conviction of a man giving the right answer to a demanding question.

#frenrey #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #there is also a smidgen of boomer in there #and softly implied darnold/tommy #i cant believe this is my first fic in two years and this is what i write #hlvrai truly is incredible huh #fanfiction #sai.fic

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theymakemegayer · 4 years

Text

Reputation: Chapter 8

Read chapter 1-7 HERE

a/n: prepare some tissues and hold your heart this was a rollercoaster of emotions!

Warning: Cursing/Profanities

(edit, sorry forgot to tag)

Taglist: @crazzyplays @riptideyun @baexpoppy @save-me-the-last-dance @somewillwin @dopeyouth

a short playlist: (kept on playing this while writing this chap)

This Love - Taylor Swift

Heather - Conan Gray

Falling - Harry Styles

Lose - NIKI

*=*=*=*=*=*=*

I woke up feeling like something was stuck on my chest making me numb inside. A huge cloud hang above me and my body refused to move out of the bed. My tears had dried off, while the pain was already engraved in my bones. Zoey barged in my room. I had no energy to master even a smile, I just waved at her. Her eyes were sad. I refused to look at it. Sadness only reminded me of the reality, and reality was I got too close to her despite Zoey's warnings. I felt my bed dipped as Zoey lay beside me. Her soft eyes drifted on my face. I didn't spoke nor did she. I found calmness in this silence.

I felt Zoey moving an arm and wrapped on my waist, "I'm here for you, Bea." She whispered softly, breath tickling on my shoulder.

I felt my eyes sting, like a dam broke, tears started to linger in my eyes.

I crinkled my nose and clenched my jaws. I refused to cry. I refuse to embrace the pain I stupidly received for trusting her.

Bea. Bea.

I heard her voice in my head. I can still feel her touch. Just one damn night, yet she managed to carved hers into me.

"Just let it out B," Zoey murmured.

I seek for warmth. I seek for something - anything to fill the hole she dug in my chest. Zoey offered a shelter in her arms as the rain came pouring. My hand crumpled Zoey's shirt as I let these tears out once again. Maybe letting it out would finally ease the pain. Soothing hands rubbed my back, as the storm continued.

As I calmed down, I withdrew from Zoey and looked into her eyes. She had a soft smile. It was somehow contagious making me smile even a little.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"Anytime," She patted my tear stained cheeks, "Wanna go out today?

Desperate for distractions, I nodded.

Later on, we were enjoying some ice cream for desserts in some ice cream parlor we stumbled in the mall. I left my phone at home, so I won't be tempted to look at the comments and to check if she-- never mind that useless thought.

Zoey was a good help for distraction. Even though I still wasn't sure if my soul was still intact in me. Zoey made me feel good about myself today. Why can't I just have a crush on some normal people instead of--

"I had to ask Bea," Zoey interrupted my thoughts, a small smile on her lips, "How was last night?"

I was in the middle of having another scoop of ice cream. Her question made me stop mid air. I put down my spoon stifling a sigh. I wasn't ready for this question.

"Oh, you know," I shrugged my shoulders, "I helped out humiliating Chloe by feeding Bradley some sugary words. We partied a bit after then I get home."

Zoey looked at me carefully, "Nothing more happened?"

I gave her a small smile. It seemed like it was the only smile I can do today. "Nothing," I paused scooping another ice cream, letting the sweetness of it mix with the bitterness of my next words, "I should have look for more dirt about her." My eyes drifted ahead of me, mind starting to get lost with a hundred of thoughts.

I felt Zoey's warm hand on my arm. I looked at her, just as her eyes softened, "It's alright. We'll look for another way, but for now let's focus on our date."

I smiled, "That's better."

*=*=*

Weekend came and the need to go to classes came too. I tried to act like everything was normal, but it wasn't. The laughter and stares I got wherever I go was like a dagger making my wounds bleed again. I had felt embarrassed before, but being humiliated almost wherever I go? It made me wish I wasn't Bea Hughes. And any site of a blonde hair made me fled immediately. I wasn't ready to see her anytime soon. I don't think I can handle it.

I was walking towards my dorm room. I just finished my classes. I slowed down with my pace when I spot something in front of the door of my dorm room.

Is that a plant? My interest was piqued immediately. A smile immediately tugged on my lips. With all of the things I had been going through this past few days, I can almost feel some of the weight in my chest lifted up. Growing up in a farm, it was like love at first sight when I started helping my father in the farm. I felt a lot more at peace and myself whenever I was surrounded by plants.

I power walked towards it, still wearing a smile. As I stood in front of it, I realized it was an Apple tree planted on a pot. A white card caught my attention too. It was tied on one of the stem. I plucked out the card and read the short note written.

Didn't see you around campus today. Bummer. This little gift is for you, Bea. -P

I scoffed, while my smile faded. How dare she give me gifts after what she did to me? I realized, of course she would do something like this. She would rub it on my face and grin at me, finding joy in knowing I perfectly fell on her trap.

I crouched as I carry the potted plant inside; despite how I don't want to be reminded of her. A plant was still something close to my heart, so I would take care of this. Besides, this would definitely die if I gave it back to her.

A week passed. My mind had been filled with self-loathing these past few days. My ‘what ifs’ were also piling up. If I hadn't trusted her... you see another what if. That's why I decided to go for a walk in a nearby park with Beppy - hoping it would lessen the burden I had been carrying.

I sat on the grass, my back leaning on the tree behind me. It was a calm afternoon. The distant noises coming from the few people on the park were the only noises I can hear.

I unleashed Beppy letting her run around me for a while. I sighed letting the fresh air fill me up. I held out the squeaky ball toy in front of Beppy. His tail started wagging.

I giggled, "You want this?"

His tail wagged furiously mouth ajar. I chuckled, "Fetch Beppy."

I played with Beppy for a while. I let myself get lost with the bubble of happiness Beppy and I made. His gleaming eyes whenever he gave back the squeaky ball toy lifted a piece of burden from me.

Moments later after I threw again the ball while Beppy was running back towards me he stopped somewhere not far from me. The ball in his mouth fell as he walked towards the tree or rather to someone. I raised my eyebrow. Who was that?

"Wha--" Clueless I called for his attention, "Beppy!"

Instead of looking at me he sat in front of the stranger - which I can't clearly see since the tree was hiding them from my view. I stood up and dusted my sweatpants. I strolled towards them.

As I was nearing their place I heard a familiar voice, "Beppy where's your mom?"

I halted in my step with my breath hitching. That voice. My eyes grew wide. I clenched my jaw as I feel my heart dropping to my stomach. Good Lord I am not ready for this.

My thoughts swarmed me. My limbs lost its strength to take the next step towards them. Like a joke - a really bad joke, Beppy spotted me and barked as if calling for me.

I exhaled loudly, with my legs shaking I took my next step towards them.

As I round the tree I finally spotted her. She was caressing Beppy's head affectionately, a soft smile on her lips. I felt my shoulder and jaw tensed as she looked up and met my eyes.

"Farmsville." She said nonchalantly, but her eyes mirrored a different story. It was soft - almost yearning? I clenched my jaw as we stared at each other for a while.

"I was waiting when you will show up," She spoke once again breaking the silence.

"Are you finished catching up with Beppy? Can I take her now?" I asked in a monotone voice.

She scoffed, "After you avoided me for a whole week, you're just gonna waltz out like that?"

I crossed my arms protectively in front of me, "We have nothing to talk about. I don't want to waste my time with you again."

"Oh so now I am a waste of your time? And did you just say again?!" She exclaimed in a high pitched tone, a frown deeply etched on her face as her eyes narrowed at me.

"Yes." I spoke. My mask was completely intact not letting her saw any emotion on my face.

"I don't get you Bea." She sighed suddenly looking... tired? Or was it sadness?

I scoffed, burying those thoughts, "You really had the nerve to act clueless right now?" I exclaimed exasperated, "Listen to me closely Poppy," I gulped. Saying her name felt like I was burying the knife she planted in my chest deeper, "You won Poppy. You - fucking - won." I said through gritted teeth. "Is this your way of mocking me? Then go on. Laugh at me. I fell in your fucking trap." I hate how my eyes stings as I spitted out my words.

"I cared for you. I believed in you. I fucking trusted you." I exclaimed quite loudly, a few passerby glancing at us. "And then what did you do?" My eyes started to blur with tears and I started to hate myself more at this moment. I hate looking weak in front of her. "You stabbed me in the back." I inhaled deeply, "Zoey warned me from you, but what did I do? I ignored her. I should have listened instead." Tears were slowly falling now. I wiped it harshly. She just blinked at me, mouth gaping.

I laughed dryly, "Don't worry Poppy. In the first place, I didn't even want that stupid crown. Just stay away from me. I'll be out of your way and your life."

I didn't wait for any reply or reaction from her. I walked towards Beppy and scooped him up. His eyes looked sad. I smiled at him despite the few tears that were still falling.

I kissed his head and murmured, "I'll feel better soon Beppy, hopefully."

*=*=*

It was a weekend. I just walked out from a clothing shop. After that encounter with her, I started to focus more on myself - just doing more of 'me time', and a continuous amount of mental and emotional self-check. I just rounded up a corner when I spotted Veronica. She was probably having another one of her live streams. Our eyes met. In an instant she frowned.

I tried to ignore her. I continued walking not sparing her another glance. I was just tired of interacting to anyone that was related to her.

"Bea! Wait up!" Veronica suddenly called out.

Sighing I halted with my steps. So much for avoiding any of them. I prepared my mind and emotions internally before I turned around and face Veronica.

I plastered a smile as she walked up to me.

"Can we talk?" She said once she was in front of me.

"We're already talking aren't we?" I bit my tongue. My retort at her had so much bite than I intended.

She raised an eyebrow. The usual composed Veronica seemed different today, maybe a little pissed off. Probably with the way I talked back at her... oops.

"It's about Poppy." She said.

I clenched my jaws, "Of course this is about her. Didn't I tell her to stay away from me already?

She raised an eyebrow at me, "Okay, clearly I don't know about that specially with how close you both got--"

I laughed dryly, cutting her off, "You mean her ploy that worked out cause now I'm Belvoir's number 1 clown?"

"Look I don't know what's Poppy's plan or what's going on with her head, but she seemed weird and different after you two partnered up with that project. At first it was only small and little details I noticed, but--"

I cut her off again, "Hold on. You're telling me you're actually very observant? I mean no offense, but with the time you spent on your phone I'm surprised."

She laughed, "Poppy is still my friend, and I care for that bitch."

"Good for her. I'm already done being mushy with her, so whatever this is you're trying to convince me with? I don't want to hear it."

Veronica sighed like her patience was starting to wear thin, "Alright. Just answer this one question then I'll leave you."

"Fine," I grumbled.

"What changed Bea? You sound like you really hate her now." Her eyes turned soft, all of a sudden.

It irked me. It was already one thing with Poppy backstabbing me and now this?! "Did Poppy send you to mock me on how stupid I was to actually trust her?" I glared at her my anger raging in me.

She waved her hands frantically in front of her, "No," She shook her head. A sad smile painted on her lips, "So I guess that was your answer huh."

I clenched my jaws. Stupid Bea. "Nothing changed. I'm just treating her the way I should have from the very start. That's my real answer."

She was still smiling at me, "To be honest I don't know why I wanted to talk to you about Poppy. Something was really off about her now-a-days, and I felt like you were the reason."

"Whether I am the reason or not, I don't care. She should deal with it. She brought this upon herself." I said through gritted teeth.

Veronica looked at me, her eyes sad. I hate it. These past few days, I hate seeing or being reminded of sadness cause deep down my heart was hurting and feeling sad for what she did.

"I better leave Bea. Thanks for the talk."

I just nodded. She patted my shoulders and smiled at me before turning around and leaving. I sighed. The relaxation I was aiming for this afternoon all gone in a blink of an eye. And now I was left with the bitter pill called reality, that I was having a hard time swallowing. I was still hurting, and the most painful part? I actually missed her.

Later that night, I was left alone in the dorm. Zoey had some things to do and would be home late; being cooped up in the dorm alone made me feel like I was drowning with thoughts about her. I felt overwhelmed, that's why I decided to go out to and have dinner to this diner I found near the train station a few days ago. It made me felt nostalgic about my hometown - when everything was okay.

I tend to miss so many things these past few days. It was like I'm continuously being pulled by my thoughts to different things or places, as well as people, like her.

I walked out from the diner. My hair and clothes probably smelled like greasy food for staying a bit too long inside, but my stomach felt full and my mood got better, after that encounter I had with Veronica this afternoon. Speaking of her, my thoughts wandered again towards Poppy. I had been having a hard time from even mentioning her name, for fuck's sake.

I don't want to fret much about her anymore, but somehow and someway the way Veronica tried to talk to me about her- worry started to crept in me.

Sometimes I felt like my encounter with her was a joke some mighty divine entity played on me. Just like now, as I was walking along the train station I spot a person sitting on one of the benches. Their beautiful, frilly pink dress would catch anyone's attention, but what really caught my attention was who she was and that she was crying.

Poppy...

I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart was pounding in my rib cage, and like bees I hear my thoughts buzzing in my mind - loud and persuasive. As if all the battles in my mind ceased, and a certain answer finally marched in victory, I numbly took my first step towards her.

I stood just right in front of her. Her hands were covering her face while her quiet sobs and her shoulders trembling broke her pretence. She wasn't alright and it broke my heart.

"Poppy...?" I whispered her name. Cold wind breezed past us dishevelling her hair. I shiver at the coldness and so does she. Slowly she lifted her head. The little cracks in me broke more as I stare at her swollen red eyes.

A deep frown was etched on her face, "What?" Irritation and annoyance was evident on her voice.

I gulped thickly, my mouth felt dried all of a sudden, "What are you doing here?" I spoke, my voice crisped - almost unrecognizable even for me.

"None of your business Hughes," She gritted her teeth and stood up. Her eyes were the same level at me as she stared at me. Like a soft whisper through the quiet night, softness flashed in her eyes quickly. I almost wasn't sure if it was for real, but the way my heart was pounding, shut down all the noises in my head.

She averted her eyes and I realized she was about to leave. My chest ached once again. My hands reached for her even before I realized what I was doing, holding her wrist gently. "Don't go," I whispered. I noticed how her jaw and shoulders tensed.

I felt the cracks in me; they were bruised and wounded, by this same person I was asking to stay. I was still hurting, but so does she. And Poppy... she almost never cries.

Just one last time. One last time that I was going to care for her. One last time I would listen to my heart.

She turned around and when I met her eyes - her brown teary eyes - my mind finally made up. I would be here for her, one last time.

Like walls crumbling down, I watched as she crossed the distance between us and hugged me. Her perfume wafted my senses and her warmth filled up the cracks in me. I didn't realize that there were tears streaming down on my face already. I missed her.

I sniffed quietly. Sadly, I still need to be on my guard no matter how much I was yearning for this.

Heavy rain started to pour as she started to cry. Her sobbed were muffled by the rain. Yet I still heard her loud and clear. A sudden urge to shelter her from her own storm on her mind arose to me. I tightened my hug and caressed her head.

The rain hadn't stopped yet, but her tears started to calm down. She withdrew from me and wiped her tears. Before I can even think what I was doing I reached out and wiped her tears with the sleeves of my jacket.

She suddenly grimaced, "Eww. Where have you been? Why does your jacket smells like that?"

I rolled my eyes, "And yet you weren't complaining moments ago. As if you forget you were hugging me a while ago."

I thought she would retort back just like always, but instead she just pouted. My heart pounded wildly at the cute gesture.

I sighed trying to mask how she left me flustered. I sat on the bench and patted the space beside me, "Wanna talk about it?"

She sighed and relented, sitting beside me, leaving minimal space between us. I gulped at her close proximity. A cold breeze past again, she shivered and started rubbing her arms. I took off my jacket and draped it on her.

She halted and looked at me with wide eyes, before a soft smile painted her lips, "Thanks Bea." She mumbled softly.

I tried so hard not to get affected, by that simple gesture, but my heart was already melting. I cleared my throat, changing the topic, "So... what happened to you?"

She avoided eye contact, "Today, my parents finally introduced me as the heiress of my father's business." She looked at up at the cloudy dark sky. The rain was relentless and so does the cold breeze passing by once in a while.

"That's a good news right?"

"It was," I saw a faint smile from her before it dropped, "Until my father started to be his usual self." She chuckled dryly. "I thought I can ignore his words just like I always do, but today was an important day for me. And I failed to impress him, again."

There was a pause I waited for her to continue. She inhaled deeply and sighed loudly, "You didn't improve Poppy. You're still a disappointment. That's what he said to me."

When she looked at me again another batch of tears were streaming down her face. She had a broken smile, "That was bullshit. His business clients and partners were happy to meet me. I should have known he won't be impressed no matter what I did."

I gulped thickly. I choked with my own emotions raging inside of me. I had never seen her, this broken.

I smiled softly at her and lay my hand on hers, "I don't believe a single word he said. You always do your best. He's blind if he can't see that."

"He probably is," She smiled softly albeit a little. "I should be really used by now with how he treats me, but I still get disappointed every damn time."

"You know what?" I squeezed her hand in mine, "Screw your dad! Let's do something fun instead." I grinned.

She raised an eyebrow. An excited gleam in her eyes and a grin on her lips, "What's on your mind?"

I looked around us. I think it was twelve midnight already or way passed that, and the rain was still pouring. The train station and its surroundings were pretty much deserted.

I stood up pulling Poppy with me. I grinned, "Care to dance with me?"

She huffed out a laugh, "You've gone nuts!"

"Probably, but look around us. It's raining and there's no one else around. It's the perfect opportunity to enjoy the rain Poppy!" I exclaimed as the warmth and happiness that I had been missing for the past week came crushing on my insides.

She laughed - a genuine and soft one. "I am probably going nuts too." She shook her head. Her eyes gleamed and a wide smile was on her lips, "Let's dance Bea!"

She pulled me out of the shelter of the waiting area of the train station. My jacket falling from her shoulders as we run on the middle of the deserted street. The rain was pouring and it felt cold on my skin, but with Poppy in front of me, laughing and smiling - guiding me into a music free dance, I feel warm.

She gasped as the rain hit her skin, "It's so cold!" She exclaimed, but the smile on her lips never faltered.

She pulled me close wrapping her arms around my neck as our foreheads touched. I wrapped my arms around her waist as we swayed. I guess we didn't need music at all when the rain felt like it was serenading us.

She giggled as our nose touched. Our wide grins turned into soft smiles. Her breath tickled my lips as she sighed.

"Bea..." She murmured.

It was like an enchantment, all I can hear was my heart screaming for her name. I closed the distance between us and kissed her. My breath hitched. As if she was the oasis on my dessert. It gave me life. It filled up the cracks inside of me. Her lips moved - claiming me softly. Her hands caressed my nape raising goose bumps in their wake.

I gasped for air as I withdrew first, "Poppy..." I murmured.

She pecked my lips, "Thank you Bea," And smiled brightly as her eyes gleamed.

I grinned, "Glad to see that smile returns."

"This was nice, but I think we both need to leave before we catch a cold."

We hailed a cab going back to Belvoire. My jacket was on Poppy's lap. We threw secretive glances towards each other once in a while. The smile on my lips never faltered and a comfortable silence wrapped us along with the murmurs of the radio inside the cab. It felt normal and I felt happy once again.

As we get out from the cab, the first thing I saw was the Zeta house and just like that reality crashed my bubble of happiness. The smile on my lips dropped. The weight on my chest intensified. As the cab leave, I turned to Poppy she was looking at me with a soft smile.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. She noticed my expression and the smile on her face dropped, "Oh..." She sighed before laughing dryly, "Of course." She bit her lip like she was stopping herself for spitting out more words. "I better go inside." Her voice was nonchalant as if her mask was back again.

"Yeah," I said curtly.

She clenched her jaw, "Fine." She turned around abruptly and speed walk inside the Zeta House.

Everything in me tensed - my hands, my jaws and my chest. I wanted to say more, but I bit my tongue. Tonight was the last time. I kept chanting those words on my mind as I watched her walking away from me.

#poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #queen b poppy #poppy min-sinclair #fanon poppy #playchoices #fanfics #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fictions

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talesmaniac89 · 4 years

Text

Choices - Sam - Front Door

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Swearing, hostage situation, pain, worry

Choice: [You chose to go in through the front]

Y/N = Your Name

---

Glancing at the massive mansion you weighed your options. Sure, you could probably sneak around the back easier than Sam. But the front door was also most likely to draw the witches’ attention. You were smaller than the boys, you stood a better chance at dodging whatever they threw at you while the boys made their way through the house.

Sam was faster than you too. With his long legs he’d make it around the back way before you ever could. Which meant you’d get all three hunters into the house quicker. Making the hunt tip in your favour instead of the two against two it’d be while you made your way around following the tree line.

Yeah… The front door was your best bet at keeping the two men in your life safe.

“I’ll take the front door,” You said as you steeled yourself for the hunt and Sam’s surely soon to follow overprotective rebuttal. Choosing to focus on rechecking your revolver for the thousandth time, you kept your eyes away from Sam’s squared jaw and the way you could follow the worried words he swallowed back down with a bob of his adam's apple.

“No (Y/N), I’ll take…” His normally light eyes were darker where he watched the front door, as if an army of monsters were waiting for you on the other side of the white wood. His big hand shook from strain as he clenched his own gun at his side. The worry rolling off him in waves and wrapping around you like warm, soft cotton.

“No can do big man. You’ll make it ‘round the back much faster than me, and we need all hands on deck. Stat,” You shot back with a tired sigh. You didn’t have time to stand around there and argue. Your body was buzzing with unused adrenaline, your muscles tensing and relaxing with the need for action now that you were so close to finishing the hunt.

“(Y/N)...” Sam’s voice was low and rough, the early hints of a whispered argument you didn’t have time to listen to. You didn’t need to hear his many reasons, or whatever excuses he’d tried to cook up.

There was no way you were putting him, or his brother, in harm's way by sitting the hunt out. No matter what Sam was planning to say to stop you from walking through that front door. And you sure as hell weren’t going to walk around the back and leave the two of them alone in there for God knows how long with the size of the house as big as it was.

Still, you kept your eyes on your weapon, on the door, on Dean… Anywhere but Sam. Knowing that those damned puppy dog eyes could always make your stubborn strength crumble. You weren’t going to leave him. Ever. Even if you couldn’t tell him how you felt. Choosing to just hastily slip your heart into his big palm and hide it up his sleeve instead.

You not going in there... Hell, to you that meant deserting him. Even if he saw it as a way of keeping you safe from the many imagined shadows in his mind. If Sam’s fears were the monsters in his closet, then you would be the flashlight and soothing lullabies that he never got as a child. The warm hand to hold that assured him he could still rely on others, that people wouldn’t just up and leave.

You were not going to run from the front-lines. You weren’t letting him fight your battles for you as if you were some sheltered princess hiding behind the walls his fears had shaped him into. You’d promised yourself to never abandon the Winchesters, and that’s exactly why you had to go in the front door. You had to hunt with them.

“Don’t Sam. I’ll… We’ll meet up inside, ok?” Biting back the promises you wanted to give him, if only to soothe his worry, you straightened and walked past him instead. Eyes locked on the white wood of the front door as you fought the urge to brush up against his sleeve and check in on the heart you’d safely tucked away under the flannel.

“I just… Please be safe, alright?” Sam’s hand was wrapped softly around your small wrist as he stopped you in your step. Big, calloused fingers brushing against the sensitive skin above your pulse point, as if he was reassuring himself that you were still alive even as you stood right next to him. The small, gentle gesture made you catch your breath as you struggled to keep your voice strong and confident. Turning with a smile you let your own forced bright words chase the last of the shadows from worried eyes.

“Of course, I’ll kick ass in there, then we’ll go home, together,” You promised as you carefully removed your wrist from his shaky hold. The small circles his index finger has traced on the soft skin above your pulse etched into the very core of you as you forced yourself to refocus on the door. On the hunt.

In the not-so-immortal words of Elmer Fudd; it was time to hunt some rabbits… Or, well, witches. But who the fuck cared? Whatever was hiding in the McMansion ahead of you, it was as good as dead now that the Winchester’s and you had shown up to play.

Keeping your steps light and your eyes on the wooden door you tried to ignore the feel of Sam’s eyes burning into you. The warmth of worried eyes dragged up your spine the same way you’d imagined big hands do time and time again. He should be moving, not watching you run towards the door. But you couldn’t turn around to signal for him to get going. Not when you knew he was standing there, looking afraid and alone with dimming sunshine eyes that would make you want to run back to him.

And so, you kept moving, keeping your eyes on the heaviness of wood ahead instead of the soft heartrending protective worry behind you. Worry you knew wouldn’t fade until you met up again inside the house. Until he was certain you wouldn’t leave him in that achingly permanent way that each new vicious monster tried to make a reality. The way you were unfortunately likely to leave him at some point in the future. Since your lives didn’t really hold the promise of forever.

For now, you just had to rely on the heart in his sleeve to keep the hunter company. To keep Sam safe until you could have his back again.

---

The front door was locked.

Of course it was. Nothing could ever be easy. Why couldn’t just one monster, just once, make your lives a bit easier by rolling out the red carpet and lining up in front of you? A little roll-call of big and bad for you to check off, one bullet at a time.

Luckily, a locked door had never stopped you. So, just as you felt the warm worry of Sam’s eyes leave you to start moving around to the back of the house, you slid down to crouch in front of the door. Resting on the balls of your feet, you momentarily holstered your gun to dig out the small lock picking kit you always kept on you.

As the scouts said; always be prepared. And though you might not have had the girl scout, cookie sales type of childhood, you were damned sure to be prepared for any situation. Weapons and other little lethal toys included.

The lock was pretty basic. For a mansion that just screamed ‘rob me’, the owners had felt quite secure in their seclusion. Relying only on a standard single cylinder deadbolt lock. Opening the door itself was child's play. Even if the short inconvenience had your body itching for action.

As soon as you heard the satisfying click of metal sliding against metal you pocketed your kit again. Your hand finding your revolver at your side as you carefully stood back up and let your eyes glance behind you to find both boys gone. Dean would be just reaching his door by now, and Sam still had a bit left to move around the freakishly large house.

Keeping the gun pointed at the door you took a small careful breath and rolled tense shoulders. It was show time. You’d go in, kick some Copperfield wannabe’s ass and find the boys again. Just like you always did.

---

If the outside of the house had seemed large and overly luxurious, the inside screamed new money and tried too hard at being bourgeois. From the first step in on the heavy carpeted hallway to the over the top winding staircase to the second floor, the little you’d already seen of the place seemed like someone had tried to copy it right out of some over the top romance novel.

You nearly expected seeing Scarlett O'Hara glide down the stairs and invite you in for some sweet tea and drama. Instead you were stuck with the Scarlet Witch, and not the cool, kick-ass superhero version. Yours were a little less Wanda and a hell of a lot more Wicked Witch of the West.

Sighing, you weighed your possible options. Other than the stairs the hallway split into two nearly identical rows of rooms that seemed to go on for forever. One snaking away under the stairway and out of sight, while the other continued down towards what you guessed was the back of the house, where Sam would be coming in.

You could take that hallway, down past the smiling faces of the former owners and hex bag recipients. Happy in the bliss of picture-perfect lives and unaware the gory fate that awaited them. That’s the way your heart wanted you to take. To get to Sam’s side as quickly as possible. But you knew it would be a waste of precious seconds. You needed the whole house checked. Not just that one hallway. Both boys would end up there and easily cover that length of smiling portraits between them.

Tearing your eyes off the quick and easy way to get back to Sam you let your eyes glide over to what was hiding under the stairs. That was most likely the way Dean would head down once he reached the front of the house. The hallway looked darker than the others. And your best friend would always shield the rest of you by taking the most dangerous tasks on himself.

Which left you with the winding wuthering heights of staircases. Swallowing down a couple of creative swear words you aimed your gun slightly higher, keeping your eyes peeled for movement on top of the stairs. You had to go up there. It was the right choice to make. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t sting like a son of a bitch at the thought of leaving the two men to deal with the downstairs area.

You couldn’t let yourself dwell on it. You’d meet up with them afterwards. It was fine.

Two witches. It shouldn’t take long. And then you’d be back by their side, watching their back as they watched yours. But first, you needed to find the two monster squatters and exterminate them.

Keeping your eyes and gun raised, you stepped onto the stupidly wide steps of the stairs. Taking them one at a time as you paced your quiet breaths with soft, careful steps against the carpeted stairs. Damn it, this place really had to be hell to clean. Not only was it massive, but with this much carpet around, a bucket of suds and hot water just wasn’t going to cut it.

At least your steps were swallowed by the thick carpet below your heavy steel toed boots. Which made it much easier for you to move relatively quickly up the unnecessary amount of steps in the lazy slope of the staircase. Allowing you to reach the top and scan the new endless hallways that came into view after just one strained minute.

Fuck.

Of course there’d just be more hallways, more smiling faces in pretty picture frames. Well, you had no choice but to start looking. One door at the time as you rolled your shoulders and steadied your gun, one finger resting on the trigger guard as you chose a hallway at random and stepped towards the first of many doors.

---

Damn it, how many rooms did one couple need? They had more guest rooms than you had enemies, and that was saying something. As there wasn’t a shortage of people who wanted to kill you.

Your muscles were screaming at you from where they’d been forced to tense and relax every time you carefully pushed a new door open, only to be met with another empty room. Or, in one case a linen closet that was twice the size of your room back in the Men of Letters bunker.

Freaking unfair.

Yet, you kept walking, slow and steady, towards the end of the hallway. Checking one room at the time and keeping an eye on the still unchecked rooms as you strained to hear any sign of a scuffle from downstairs.

It was so quiet... Screw the damned cliché, but it was right. It was too quiet. Two of the best hunters you knew were searching downstairs. You should have heard something by now. Anything. Yet, even as you stopped moving and held your breath to listen, there was nothing. No sound of a fight, or gunshots from downstairs. Where were the damned witches hiding?

Of course, the silence was a good sign. The Winchester brothers were still safe. You had to believe that, even as the pressure cooker of worry and what ifs boiled deep in your gut. The two men in your life were somewhere in the big mansion. And your legs ached from where you had to force yourself to continue your search without going to look for them.

Every part of your body wanted to screw the logical hunter 101 ingrained in your mind after years in the business to find them, to find Sam, back downstairs. But you knew you had a job to do, and you were damned good at your job. ‘Employee of the month’-good. You needed to stick to the plan, to go slow and steady, not the frantic steps of overprotective love and worried hearts.

Sam had your heart. You’d slipped him that a long, long time ago. For now, you had to rely on your mind, on your instincts and your training. You’d be back by his side soon enough. But for now, you had to stifle your fears, and move on with the search. Like a good little soldier.

The Winchesters were the best in the business.

You loved Dean like a brother, and your best friend could take care of himself. Sam too, you knew that he could. Sam Winchester was the strongest man you’d ever had the pleasure of stumbling headfirst into unrequited love with. Broken and reshaped so many times by an unforgiving world until the pressure had made him a diamond, all sharp and beautiful, as he reflected the harsh reality of the Winchester family business through sunshine eyes and gave the world a rainbow in return.

Breathing out through pursed lips, you forced your thoughts to return to the hunt as you shifted your hold on the gun. Fingers tightening around it as you kept your eyes on the remaining few doors of the hallway. A small, barely there sound drawing your eye from the door you’d been eyeing and down to the end of the hall. Bingo.

Smirking to yourself, you ignored the last few doors and strode quietly towards the final door. Someone was in there, and it sure as hell wasn’t one of the brothers.

Moving your finger off the trigger guard. You reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to find the chrome turn in your hand without any movement from your careful fingers. Taking a step back, you readied yourself to see what was hiding behind door number… Hell, you hadn’t bothered counting.

Coming face to face with wide blue eyes as the witch pulled the wooden door open and froze in her steps from the gun aimed right between them. Allowing yourself a quick victorious grin you nodded at your gun as your eyes stayed on the Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Bitch in front of you. Speaking up before she could spout some bullshit about guns not being able to kill her.

God, you were just so sick and tired of the same stupid back and forth that all the monsters seemed to have to go through when you fought them. Like you were some sort of greenhorn that didn’t know your vamps from your wendigos.

“Witch killing bullets, don’t fucking move,”

Of course, the witch parted painted lips.

Still intent on forcing you through the little high school play of empty threats or promises of pain that you’d had to sit through one too many times. Yet, before she could start saying whatever prompt the monster playbook told her to say, she was forced quiet by a gunshot from downstairs.

The loud explosion of sound shook your concentration for just one small second. As you glanced down the hallway towards the stairs. Worry heavy in your stomach. But that was all it took. The witch was just that fraction of a heartbeat faster than you as she sent you flying sideways into the wall, your head connecting with the smiling picture frames and your gun dropping to the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

Fuck.

Your bleary mind barely had the time to even formulate the single swear word as darkness swallowed your vision. The edge of a frame had connected with your temple. There was no way you could keep yourself from slipping temporarily away from the real world. Your last thought as you faded into nothingness against the pounding pain in your head was Sam.

A weak prayer for his safety on your lips as you crumpled to the floor.

---

You hadn’t been out for long. You knew that much. The still fresh pounding in your head that had brought you back and the coppery taste of blood on your tongue was still in the early stages as you forced your eyes to open again.

But it had been long enough for the witch to pull you back into the bedroom she had been busy leaving and tie you to a wooden chair in the middle of the white walled room. The leather belt tied around your wrists burning against the skin and erasing the soft touch left above your pulse point by Sam as you tried to loosen it.

“Oh, look who’s up!” The woman in front of you was impeccably dressed, but that didn’t make her any less slimy to you as she softly clapped manicured hands together like a giddy child with a new toy. Her vicious attempt at teasing mismatched with the classic black dress that ended at her knees and matching heels that were leaving dents in the room’s heavy carpet.

“Bite me, bitch,” You spat back as you tugged against the restraints. No good, you couldn’t even make the leather biting into your wrists give a little. If you were proud of your girl scout preparedness, then she was the one with the eagle scout rank. She’d tied your arms up good. Though she’d left your feet alone, you noted, which at least gave you some chance.

She clearly had plans for you as she sauntered closer. Maybe she was going to hex you, or hurt you. But she sure as hell didn’t look like she was getting ready to kill you. No, you were playing the role of hostage. A little bait to get the Winchesters to come running and keep them from hurting her.

Damn it.

You knew better than to be inattentive when facing a monster. But the gunshot had come out of nowhere, and after spending so long in absolute silence, it had rattled your mind and broken your focus.

Setting your angry eyes into the witch in front of you, you caught the glint of steel behind her where your revolver had been thrown haphazardly on the bed. If only you could get loose then she’d be toast in a second. But the leather was tied tight enough that you could nearly taste it mixing with the blood in your mouth from the cut on your lip.

You had to think. You didn’t have many options. You could scream. Call for help and wait for the cavalry to come to your rescue. Sam and Dean were smart, they’d know what your scream meant, and they’d come running in prepared, instead of whatever trap the witch hoped to prepare. But it wasn’t a perfect solution. Someone could still get hurt. Sam could still get hurt.

Or, you could keep fighting. Keep being the good little soldier and use whatever you could to get out of the chair and knock the Eastwick wannabe in front of you down a few pegs.

It wasn’t much of a choice at all. But you had to choose and choose fast.

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you do?

[Try to get loose] or [Scream for help]

---

Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

---

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enbiart · 4 years

Text

Rooted Deep

In which Angeal has always struggled with depression and the like. TW for suicidal thoughtd and attempted suicide.

If he was being completely honest, it was always a problem for him. His monstrosity was just the icing on the cake, the straw that broke the camel's back. Before the truth of his birth came out, it was pretty manageable. Sure, he'd have his bad days, but no one ever caught on, so it couldn't have been that bad.

At least, that's what Angeal told himself.

It started when he was little. It had probably been a problem since before then, but the first time the full thought crossed his mind was on Genesis's 13th birthday. He'd never tell a soul, but the class difference between him and his friend. . . He'd never put it against his friend, Gaia no, but jealousy was only human, and he had a lot to be jealous of.

His Mom raised him right, though, so jealous thoughts never lingered long. What did linger, though, were the feelings of shame and inadequacy that often acquainted jealousy. He tried so, so, so hard to be proud of his family, of his Mom -- but sometimes, sometimes he'd look at Genesis and his home, at his fancy clothes and new toys and private tutors, and then he'd look back at his measly shack, at his ragged, patchy clothes and lack of playthings and books that Genesis had to lend him so that he could learn how to read good because despite how much his Mom loved him she just couldn't afford to send him to school the whole time, and he'd wonder if there was some sort of joke he was missing. He'd wonder why someone like Genesis, the Mayor's son, the richest kid in town, would bother with someone like him. He'd wonder when Genesis would realize just how much he was lowering himself to spend time with someone like Angeal, and give up. He knew, really, that Genesis wasn't that kind of person, and he felt awful thinking of his friend that way.

Still, on nights he had trouble sleeping, he wondered.

He felt so, so guilty on the days he found himself wishing he had even half the money his friend has, when he wished he could've been born in a different family. He felt so, so guilty because that wasn't fair to his Mom, who tried so hard and gave up so much for him. His Mom was an angel, his hero, and whenever he caught himself being ungrateful he beat himself up over it. His Mom deserved a son that would be satisfied and grateful for her efforts, not one that stole apples just because she couldn't afford to give him three meals a day.

On Genesis's 13th birthday, though, he realized he was a worse son than he ever thought imaginable.

It was an important day, obviously. The day he would transition from child to teen, and he'd been looking forward to it for a while. Angeal had been, too. He was excited for his friend! He couldn't wait! The whole town was looking forward to it, with Genesis being the Mayor's son and all. There would be a huge celebration throughout all of Banora -- The Rhapsodoses didn't often pay attention to their son, but they did often flaunt him to the townsfolk. (A fact that Genesis often resented, but just this once he was too excited to care.)

Angeal was so excited, and so, so nervous, because what the hell was he going to get him? For all of his earlier birthdays, Genesis told him not to worry about presents or anything, but they'd always celebrated his birthdays privately before then. This was in front of the entire town! There's no way he could get away with just a card, or, Gaia forbid, nothing!

So, yes, Angeal was very nervous about that. His Mom, bless her heart, took notice, and often tried reassuring him. Genesis was his best friend, he'd never get mad over something like this. There was truth in her words, he knew, but (he thought of the shame, the embarrasment, the fact that this was going to be one of the most important days of his friend's life and he could just imagine the look of disappointment, or worse, the understanding, the pity) just once, he wanted to be something more than the son of a poor widow.

He had no clue what the hell was going through his head when he did it, but Angeal would regret every day for the rest of his life that he stole from his own mother. He normally felt bad enough when he stole from just the neighbor's trees when he needed to eat, so he had no idea how he managed to convince himself to sneak into his Mom's bedroom after dark to rifle through their measly Gil savings. All he knew was that the party was tomorrow, Genesis had been talking nonstop about the new Materia the shop had just gotten, and he still didn't have a present.

The morning after his theft, before his Mom even woke up, Angeal had shot out of the house to wait for the Materia shop to open. As soon on the doors opened he'd ran straight for the display on the front counter, the one that had the new, shiny Fire materia, and traded all of his stolen goods and savings for the magic little orb. The shop owner gave him a curious look, no doubt recognizing him for his poverty, but in the spirit of the day didn't say anything. The little sphere was warm in his hands, and he cradled it carefully as he brought it back to his room, laying it in an admittely cheap and flimsy box. The gift itself would more than make up for it.

Later that day, when the party began and all the townsfolk crowded the streets, he was nearly bouncing in anticipation. He followed Genesis around as he went around enjoying the festivities, and eventually came the time for gifts. He was excited! Finally, he was going to be one of the people that gave things instead of taking them. He ignored the way Genesis looked surprised at him being in the group of gift-givers, brushing off his protests with a "Just open it!" and waiting in eager anticipation.

The look on his friend's face when he took the green materia out was one of pure bliss. No matter how much guilt and regret Angeal had about that day, he fact that he was the one that made his friend so happy would always be something he'd be proud of. He was proud then, too. Proud and relieved and just a little bit smug, because throughout the rest of the party, and the whole month, really, Genesis never lost that bright-eyed look, never stopped showering him in thanks and praises. It was amazing to be the source of so much happiness in his friend.

And then, one week later, he overheard a conversation between his Mom and the grocer. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, and only caught bits and pieces, but what he did hear completely shattered his high.

". . .buying less and less lately, Mrs. Hewley. Everything alright?"

"Fine, it's just. . . I think we had a break-in last week. Only took about half our Gil, though, so. . ."

He didn't stay to hear the rest of it, the gravity of what the hell he'd done hitting him, and he locked himself in his room the rest of the day. It was then that he realized how much his Mom had been frowning since the birthday, how small their meals were, how little she'd been eating. How little he'd been eating. There were few days he found himself completely full, but he'd never been this hungry in a long time. Already, his Mom was looking a bit thinner, staying at work longer, trying to make up for the loss in funds.

Oh, Gaia. What was he thinking?

His Mom sacrificed so much for him on a daily basis, and this is how he repayed her? With shame, embarrasment, and bitterness? With theft? She gave him so much love, and what does he do? He leaves her to starve herself just to feed an ungrateful brat. He was awful. He was terrible. He - He --!

He shouldn't have been born at all.

Twelve years old, guilt-ridden and ashamed beyond belief, that one thought led to another, more horrific thought.

Maybe he should just kill himself.

It would've solved so many problems -- His Mom could use all their money on herself instead of wasting it on him, Genesis wouldn't have to make the choice between his class and his friend, he --

He cut the thought off quick, because he was starting to scare himself. So, he ignored the train of thought he had taken, got a pencil and paper, and decided to plan a route that would let him take as many dumbapples from as many houses in one night, because despite how much he hated stealing at that point, he'd rather think on how he could make this up to his Mom than whatever he was thinking about earlier.

He should've told someone, probably, that he'd considered it at all. He was too scared and ashamed to even think about it, though.

So he didn't.

So, it probably shouldn't have been as shocking as it was when it became a recurring thought, because now that the idea crossed his mind it just wouldn't leave him alone.

In the dark recesses of the night, he often found himself wondering just how much the planet benefitted from him remaining alive. Thinking, really, how much difference did it matter in the grand scheme of things if he died or not? His Mom would be sad, of course, and so would Genesis, but they'd move on, wouldn't they? Just how big of a deal would it be, really, if he just stopped breathing in the middle of the night?

It became a bit of an morbid curiousity, almost. Just something to ponder when he was bored. He'd wonder what would happen if he threw himself into that pond on the other side of the orchard. He'd wonder what would happen if he swallowed all of the pills in his Mom's medicine cabinet. He'd wonder what would happen if he snuck one of the kitchen knives into his room. The answer to all those questions was that he'd die, of course, but what then? How much better would the lives of the Banorans be with one less mouth to feed?

He never acted on those thoughts, Gaia no. He knew, logically, just how much he meant to the people that loved him.

Still, though, it persisted.

He got used to it, and he still refused to tell anyone.

(He wanted to, sometimes, though. When he started getting bad days, and it was so hard to find a meaning behind anything he did, when it seemed almost impossible to justify the space he was filling, and he questioned the validity of others' love for him -- He wanted to just lay everything out, to tell his Mom his thoughts and have her tell him it was okay, for Genesis to argue himself out of his self-deprecation.

He doesn't, though, too ashamed of himself for being so dissatisfied. Too determined to burden his Mom with as little as possible. Too busy trying to help Genesis deal with his own array of problems.

Too honorable to be any bigger of a problem than he already was.)

Joining SOLDIER helped, in a way. The intensity of cadet training often left him too exhausted to humor any thoughts about his place in the world; There was no room left in his head to think about the many ways he could kill himself with whatever was in a room when it was stuffed full of materia theory and tactics. The physical aspect also provided a surprisingly nice distraction -- he found himself enjoying the rhythmic swing of a sword, and whatever built up feelings of aggravation and inadequacy oftentimes were taken out of the training dummies.

It'd been a long time since he last felt so comfortable in his skin. It was nice.

Not to say his problem was completely gone, no, nothing was ever that easy. As time and promotions passed by he got more and more used to the rigid schedules and new responsibilities, and soon enough his mind started wandering. And once again, it latched onto its apparent favorite subject: death.

Once he'd passed that point, he made a rather worrying discovery. While the routine and resposibility of his rank might have helped when it came to considering the futility of his continued existence, the mako injections had the opposite effect. In fact, he'd even go as far as to say that it completely undid whatever progress joining SOLDIER had helped him gain. When fresh mako ran through your veins, there was a period of time in which everything was enhanced tenfold. Sight, sound, sensation, smell, taste -- and while it was true that once the mako was fully absorbed into the body, your senses would level out, Angeal would've liked to have warned that, apparently, emotions were also included on that list. He learned that fact the hard way.

The "hard way" being Genesis finding him sitting in his bathtub with a knife to his wrist.

Thankfully (or unfortunately, depending on when you ask him), his mako-addled mind couldn't tell right from left and cut the wrong damn wrist, but the intent was clear as day. When he finally came down from his mako high, it was to find himself tucked snugly into bed, bandages wrapped around his right hand, with the sound of Genesis crying coming from his living room. To say that he was overcome with guilt was a massive understatement.

When he finally mustered the courage to leave his bedroom, he was a bit shocked to find that Sephiroth was also there. The man in question looked unbelievably uncomfortable, what with Genesis hanging onto him and crying all over him (and the thought that Angeal had managed to scare him enough that he'd called in Sephiroth of all people for comfort almost made him want to finish the job), but he'd yet to move away, and was even giving what he probably thought was a comforting hug, but looked more like he was about to snap the redhead's neck. He didn't have long to take in the strange and oddly heartwarming scene of his friends not at each others' throats for once because as soon as his feet hit hardwood floor, both heads shot up, and suddenly he was the one with an armful of distraught Genesis.

"An-Angeal, you -- I -- you scared the shit out of me, wh --," His friend cried out, frantically alternating between holding onto him and grabbing his face to look it over. It seemed like he could barely speak, tears coming back full force now that Angeal was actually awake and could answer his questions. "What the hell were you -- Y-you could've died, were you trying --?! Why --?!"

In the end, Angeal just couldn't take the sight of his friend to barely kept together, and pulled him close into a back-breaking embrace. Genesis held him hard enough to leave bruises, and probably did, but he was too focused on rubbing comforting circles into his back and trying to soothe his sobs. In his peripheral, he could see Sephiroth hovering, unsure, and with an unreadable expression.

He didn't know how long it took for Genesis to finally calm down; In fact, he didn't even know how long it had been since he had been caught in the act. As soon as his friend composed himself, though, he found himself sat down and told in no uncertain terms that he would explain himself, and that he would do so promptly and in full. He was reluctant. It had been his dirty little secret for so long, to tell someone about it now...

He was nervous, ashamed, a little scared, and tried very desperately to avoid the subject. Surprisingly, it wasn't Genesis that finally made him relent; Sephiroth had simply given him THAT look, the one he reserved for hysterical troops on the battlefield, and he'd cracked like an egg.

And so he spilled. From start to finish. He told them about the guilt, the shame, the everything that was wrong with him -- haltingly, at first, then gaining momentum as finally, finally he could just let it out. He didn't look at them while he spoke, knowing it'd be futile trying to read Sephiroth and not wanting to see the horror and guilt he just knew Genesis would wear, instead watching the way his hands shook ever so slightly with a sort of detached amusement. By the time he was done, his voice was hoarse and he felt like his insides had been scraped out, leaving him raw and empty. He felt tired, and strangely numb, as if the words had stolen his strength and left a shell of a man in its wake.

He didn't realize he'd been silently crying until, once more, a blur of red collided with him. This time, though, he was the one being held. It was a bit awkward, given the size difference, but in the blink of an eye he found himself held snugly against his friend's chest, a soft stream of "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..." in his ear. He was momentarily confused; Normally, he was the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. And what did Genesis have to apologize for, anyway? He didn't get it. He didn't get to question it for long, though, because the longer he stayed in that embrace, the tighter his chest began to feel. Something was squeezing his heart and his lungs, burning his eyes, and making his breath hitch. There was a weight on his back, and while he couldn't muster the strength or energy to turn his head, he just knew it was Sephiroth, and when the solitary weight of a single hand became the encompassing warmth of yet another embrace he just couldn't take it anymore.

(The last time someone else had hugged him, had gone out of their way to make sure he was okay was the day he left for Midgar, when his Mom had pulled him aside and hugged him with the kind of strength that only a distraught mother could. She told him through teary eyes how much she loved him, how proud she was of him, how sure she was that his dream would come true and that she just knew he would be a fine man when he finished growing up.

He almost cried that day, but didn't.

Even then, when he was the one being held, he had to be strong for her.)

The dam broke.

Later that night, after a whole day of pampering and soft words and comfort and a promise of more just like it, what with the week of leave the others had managed to get him, Angeal found sleep elusive. It wasn't for the usual reasons, though. This time, as he lie in bed, sandwiched between two warm, comforting bodies, he was not kept awake wondering the numerous outcomes of his death. Quite the opposite, in fact; He found himself looking forward to the endless doors of opportunity now open to him.

#this was half a vent fic #and half me wanting more of angeals character to be explored #than his eligibility as the perfect husband #my writing #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #TW:#suicide

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cravingcrazewriting · 4 years

Text

Secret admirers seemed too cliche to actually be a thing. Or at least, that’s what Evan used to think.

It was the typical formula of High School romances in dumb, romance films trying to be hip or cool. It was just too good to be true in real life.

Or well, so Evan thought.

Because he had a note sticking outside his locker, which just said “Dear E, You look really cute today.”

And it was February, ironically, which was the most romantic month of the year, or at least Evan thought. He was a hopeless romantic who just wanted some affection.

But not like this. He would’ve preferred to just be told upfront, because he would take what he could get at this rate, especially after realizing his fixation with being with Zoe was just loving the idea of someone like her, and not actually her, so he was still hurt by that, despite the fact that she didn’t even do anything to him. He thought he wouldn’t ever have a chance at romance again,

Well, until that little note.

Evan felt a twinge of doubt reside deep inside himself, and he tried to convince himself that it was meant for him, because he didn’t know anyone that had a locker by his with the initial E. For once, he just wanted to take something like this and enjoy it, instead of freaking out, having a panic attack for no reason whatsoever, or letting his insecurities get the best of him.

So, he tucked the little note in his pocket, and decided to let it be, despite his mind screaming that it wasn’t meant for him, and left for his next class.

~*~

It really shouldn’t have surprised him to see another letter fly out of his locker.

Evan hoped he was mentally prepared for it, but no, he wasn’t, because he had to fumble around for the half sheet of paper, while Jared treaded closer and closer to him, so that was inconvenient, because he wanted to read the little note, but nope, it had to be Jared, and his fucking car insurance, just like usual.

“Hansen!” Jared called, and Evan hated how harshly he crumpled the letter into his palm, and down inside his back pocket. “What’s up? We haven’t talked in a while.”

Really? Did he have to do this now? “Oh, I-I’ve been fine. Normal, boring life, you know?”

Jared gave him a look that said “Are we really going to do this?”. “I saw that letter in your locker. Spill.”

Of course he did. That was just his luck. “I don’t know, Jared, I just got it.”

“I can’t believe it! Someone’s writing to you, Evan Hansen! Aren’t you like, most likely to be forgotten?” Jared barked out a laugh.

He tried not to let that comment hurt because he’d heard it a thousand times before, but it still did. He looked away, choosing to ignore it. “I’m… going to class.”

“Buzzkill,” he joked, but made no effort to stop him. “Hey, tell your mom I was nice to you so my parents will pay my car insurance, alright?”

Evan didn’t answer him, knowing it would’ve been preferred.

~*~

It was different every day.

“You hunch in on yourself to try and hide. Don’t. I see you. You’re beautiful.”

“I don’t understand how a stutter is cute, but yours is. Sorry, that’s probably annoying to hear.”

“I hate seeing you cry. Reminds me of how ugly the world is (not saying you’re ugly).”

It was nice. Too nice, so where as it was hard for Evan to believe it was all meant for him. How was it all meant for him? Who could dedicate all this time into just him?

So, feeling a need to do something in return for them, he left a small thank you letter, saying how he appreciated all the stuff they said about him, and that they really brightened his day.

But Evan really hadn’t anticipated a response.

“Dear E,

I’m glad my letters make you happy. It’s nice to know I’m doing one good thing in life. I won’t tell you who I am, but if you’re as lonely as you say you are in your letter, text me sometime? (xxx)-xxx-xxxx”

Normally Evan wouldn’t accept things like this, but curiosity be damned, he wanted to try and get closer to Secret Admirer, and hopefully figure out who they were.

Evan: Since you’re not going to tell me who you are, can you tell me what to call you?

Unknown: call me… C?

Evan made a mental note to change the contact to that.

Evan: I c you

C: ha

C: leave the puns to the professional.

Evan: ):<

Evan: Rude.

Evan: Why don’t you use my name in your letters?

C: it felt impersonal. I know you, but I don’t know you, like in real life.

C: if that makes sense.

Evan: Ah. That makes sense.

Evan: Well now you can use my name. Since we’re talking now.

C: suppose you’ve got a point there lol

And they sort of just kept going on from there. C didn’t like to talk about his home life, and was persistent in learning more about him in general. He seemed thrilled with every new little thing he learnt about him, and would tell non specific stories around every topic.

C: did you ever go to autumn smiles apple orchard??? The had THE BEST apples

C: me and my sis would roll down the hills there. They were super big.

C: and one time my dad brought a remote controlled plane. He accidentally sunk it into the lake there though

Evan: Aw that sucks. Did he apologize?

C: old man never was good with words. He just said “sorry kids, we’ll get a new one”. Like, that was my favorite toy?? You fucker??

Evan: Are you… still holding a grudge?

C: one does not simply forgive their dad after he fucks up so badly.

C was incredibly passionate about protecting rights and nature, and would send Evan long paragraphs at random, most often in the middle of the night.

Was it possible to be crushing on someone Evan didn’t know? Actually, scratch that, he did know C, just not in real life. Like an online relationship, just without the distance.

C: hey, Valentine’s Day is coming up. Wanna be my valentine?

Evan didn’t think he was serious at first, because he was a secret admirer, and his identity was going to remain a secret no matter what, but what would it hurt? Maybe C would leave him a lollipop or something.

Evan: Sure! You’re probably the only person who’d ask heh.

But on that Friday, Valentines Day, he wasn’t expecting to see Connor Murphy waiting beside his locker, a white teddy bear in his arms, as he wore a dark purple sweater with his usual skinny jeans and combat boots. For once, he seemed to put effort into his appearance, because his hair seemed to be detangled and fluffed, showing off a nose piercing, along with a few others on his ears.

Evan hadn’t overdressed that day. He just wanted to wear a light pink short sleeved button up he’d been saving for a special occasion, with loose ended jeans, and his uggs that clashed horribly with the outfit all together. It was a complete disaster, Evan was painfully aware of this, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Hey Ev, it’s me…” Connor smiled at him, fiddling with the teddy bear. “Now you can finally ‘C’ me,” he joked lamely.

Evan couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. Connor’s was too infectious. “Is that— a c-callback to when we first met?”

“Obviously,” the latter chuckled, handing over the teddy bear. Apron further inspection, it was holding a little heart that said “You’re too much to bear!”.

“Can I— can I hug you?” Evan asked sheepishly, holding the stuffed animal close.

Connor opened his arms up, seemingly all too willingly. “Come on in.”

As Evan wrapped his arms around him, he briefly thought about all the rumors that were spread about this guy. He threw a printer at his teacher, Mrs. G, in second grade, he was bullied, he supposedly did drugs and got kicked out of a private school, and he showed up to school high. Then again, Connor showed a completely different persona from behind the letters and texts he received up until that very day. He had a sneaking suspicion that his classmates were wrong about him.

“Can I walk you to class?” Connor asked softly. “And take you to The Orchard tonight?”

“One thousand percent yes,” Evan whispered back, holding onto him tonight.

Once the two separated, Evan gently set the little bear inside his locker, and let Connor walk him to his first class period of the day. They ate lunch together, held hands, and talked. He wasn’t sure what they were, but that didn’t matter.

So what if secret admirers were cliche? Evan’s made him more happy than ever.

#deh #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #treebros #evan hansen #connor #evan

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raibebe · 5 years

Text

Lifesaver

Genre: Fluffy horror Words: 1.777 Prompt: Vampire Hyungwon almost starved himself and really needs some blood For @im-a-special-bebe A/N: I think in my original example prompt the girlfriend didn’t know about Hyungwon being a vampire but I’m scratching that because it just worked out better like this and it’s also probably more intense than it had to be... Also this has been betaed by the lovely @kihyunsbabe 🖤 Warnings: blood, self-harm (somehow, kinda)

Vampire: A living corpse that drinks blood of the living by biting their necks with long, pointed canine teeth to quench their never ending thirst

A loud knock on your door disrupted the silence of your apartment which was draped in darkness only broken by the blue light of the screen of your laptop. You snapped out of your stupor and squinted at the clock on the wall. Groaning you dragged a hand through your hair. You had been staring at the blank page of your document for over an hour now but didn’t type anything besides your name and the course you were supposed to write the paper for which was due to the end of the week.

It’s not that you didn’t like the class or didn’t know what you should write about but you just couldn’t focus. You mind was wandering the second you weren’t distracted by your friends or the lectures you had to attend. Being worried about your boyfriend not contacting you for a little over a week may sound stupid but when he had left, he hadn’t said where he was going, just that he needed to attend to some family business with his extended family. You were always antsy when he mentioned his family, especially his extended family. For other people that meant meeting a creepy uncle or a noisy aunt asking you when you would finally get married or your cousin boasting about how many sales he had this week alone. But for Hyungwon it meant that he had to face his creator and his brothers and sisters. And judging by the urgency of the meeting, it seemed like one of his so called siblings - not by birth but by rebirth as he liked to call it - might have either gone rouge or a newborn wasn’t able to control themselves.

Neither of the options seemed good and Hyungwon had often told you stories about his brothers and himself getting hurt whilst trying to hunt the other vampires down for the safety of their family and their race. He had told you that the government and the police knew very well that creatures like him existed but did everything to keep it hidden, so the general public wouldn’t panic but if a clan would decide to go rouge and reveal themselves there would be nothing to stop it. The way they were hunted down by special police forces was brutal enough, you didn’t dare to imagine how it would escalate if everyone knew of their existence.

Another harsh knock on your door ripped you from your thoughts. Shouting an affirmative noise, you got up from where you were seated on your work desk and padded over to the wooden door of your apartment.

When you opened the door, your heart dropped and stopped beating for a second. In the dark hallway before you was standing your boyfriend. His white hair was dishevelled, clothes torn and dried blood clung to his pale hands. He smiled weakly at you, showing his canine teeth but the smile wasn’t reaching his bright red eyes and he leaned heavily against the doorframe. Without saying anything, you grabbed his slender waist and threw one of his thin arms around your shoulder so you could support him on your way into your apartment. When you sat him down on your couch, he almost melted into the pillows, his head dangling over the back of the couch, eyes losing their focus.

Climbing into his lap, you grabbed his ice-cold face between your palms, forcing him to look at you. “What do you need, Won?” You asked, voice trembling with fear. You had never seen him in a state like this. His eyes would turn more and more red the more thirsty he got but it also made him more aggressive and eerie, not weak like this. He had fed just before he left, you knew that. So he shouldn’t be this starved. “Blood,” he said weakly, voice not more than a breath, sounding hoarse as if he had been screaming. Nodding you got up to go to your fridge to see if there were blood bags left, but his hands weakly wrapped around your arm. “That won’t do,” he breathed out, his head falling back again, his hand losing the grip he had on you.

Cursing you rolled the long sleeve of your sweater up, holding your wrist up for him to bite you. Ever since you had been together he had refused to feed from your neck. It was supposed to hurt way less than doing it from the wrist area but he didn’t like that you weren’t able to stop him like that, not confident in his ability to stop himself even though he was far from being a newborn who was new to feeding from a living being he didn’t want to kill. But even though he had his lips parted and his canines were shining in the low light of your computer screen, he didn’t bite you. Brushing the hair from his forehead, you gently pressed your wrist against his lips. “Drink, Won,” you urged him on, bracing yourself for the pain which was about to come, screwing your eyes shut. But it never came. Instead Hyungwon went limb in your hands, every tension leaving his body. “Won?” “Hyungwon?” “Chae Hyungwon?!” You called him, your voice climbing higher in pitch and getting louder with each call of his name.

Cursing you jumped off of him and the couch and raced to the kitchen to find a knife. Ripping open random drawers as well as crashing several kitchen utensils, you finally grabbed a large, sharp knife and dashed back into the living room. With trembling hands you brought the knife to the skin on your wrist. A whimper left your lips when you pulled the knife over your flesh, breaking the skin. The sound of the bloody knife falling to the ground echoed load in the room when you broad your wrist to Hyungwon’s lips again, the dark red fluid streaming past his lips, staining them and his face. Praying to whichever god might be listening, you stroked his hair when he still wasn’t moving, tears collecting on the corners of your eyes not only because of the pain in your wrist. Willing them back, you screwed your eyes shut and tried to stop your bleeding arm from trembling so you wouldn’t make even more of a mess.

When a sudden pain shot through your whole body, your eyes snapped back open and were met with the almost glowing blood red eyes of Hyungwon whose fangs had pierced through your skin to get even more of your blood flowing. Whimpering, tears of relief began flowing down your face when you saw how with every drop of blood leaving your body, Hyungwon’s strength seemed to come back to him. But while his strength came back to him, your head began to feel light. The exhaustion that came with letting a vampire feed from you washing over you faster than it had ever before which was no surprise when you considered the big wound on your wrist and the way his Adam’s apple was bobbing with every gulp of blood he swallowed.

“Hyungwon, stop. It’s enough,” you told your boyfriend through gritted teeth. But he didn’t seem to even hear the words or recognize your words; simply trailing his tongue over the cut to make more blood flowing into his mouth. For the first time you were thankful that Hyungwon would always refuse to feed from your neck, at least giving you some kind of chance to get him off of you even though he possessed unnatural strength. Gently caressing Hyungwon’s cheek with your free hand, you threaded your fingers through his hair before grabbing a handful of the shorter hair at his nape to yank at the strands.

This seemed to make him snap out of it: His glowing eyes snapped open and his lips left your wrist to curl back to expose his bloody teeth in an animalistic snarl. Shrieking in fear you yanked your injured hand from his grip, making you fall from the couch, blood droplets falling on the cushions and the carpet. But you didn’t have time to even acknowledge any of that, your vision turning black when your head connected to the couch table with an unpleasant sound.

When you regained your senses, your body felt unusually heavy like there were weights pulling your limps down into the soft material of the bed and keeping your eyes shut. You could make out faint noises, soft whispering, muffled through the door of your bedroom. Slowly and with much effort you managed to open your eyes. The heavy curtains of your room had been pulled close, so it was impossible to judge how long you had been unconscious. A soft whimper left your lips when you tried to lift yourself up to look at the time, a splitting pain shooting through your head.

Not even a second later, the door to your bedroom opened and Hyungwon poked his head through, smiling when he saw you were awake. Before you would express how worried you had been about him, he beat you to it. “I was so worried, you wouldn’t wake up. You have been out for almost twelve hours,” taking your bandaged hand from under the covers, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I thought I took too much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come to you like this. I wasn’t in my right mind, if you hadn’t pulled me off, I didn’t know what would have happened. Please forgive me.” He sighed, toying with the bandages on your wrist, avoiding to look you right in the eye.

Smiling weakly, you intertwined your fingers with his. “What happened, Won? I thought you were dead for a second,” you asked him. “I am dead, sweetheart,” he answered bitterly. “You just went limb and wouldn’t even drink at first, Won. I’ve never seen you like this and it scared me.” He finally met your gaze, his own eyes dark and wide in confusion. “THAT scared you? Not how I couldn’t stop feeding off of you?” “Well, I got you off, didn’t I?” You asked shyly, hiding yourself beneath the fluffy blanket so Hyungwon wouldn’t see the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before he laid down next to you, placing his head on your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat.

“It’s not going to happen again, I promise”, he whispered softly.

“I love you,” you answered before closing your eyes again and drifted back to sleep.

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years

Text

The Sorcerer's Cub (Ch.2)

Stephen woke to small fingers touching his goatee and when he opened his eyes, they met brown bambi eyes that shined happily. That had been one of the best things he woke up to. A happy baby patiently waiting for his mother to wake up instead of toddling off and getting into trouble.

"Good morning Peter."

"Mama, hungry."

Stephen chuckles. "You're always hungry Spiderling."

He got up though and after changing Peter into a fresh diaper and dressing them both for the day, he carries the baby down to the kitchen. To his surprise, he found Scott standing at the counter eating some cereal while scrolling through his phone, and when he looked up he actually spit-taked when he saw Peter. Stephen merely responded by slapping Scott upside the head as he walked past him to open the cupboards and figure out what to feed Peter for breakfast. With the hopes that his garbage disposal of a teenage son was hiding somewhere in baby Peter's appetite, he pulled out some instant oatmeal.

"So did you give in to temptation or was this an accident?" Scott asks before shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"Peter got hit by some advanced alien tech while on patrol." Stephen answers as he situates Peter onto his hip and holds out the packet of oatmeal for Scott to open. While he does that, Stephen starts boiling some water.

"How long?" Scott returns the open packet to the sorcerer.

"Possibly up to two weeks. Are you busy today?"

"Aww...are you asking me out on a date?" Stephen levels an unimpressed look at Scott who shrugs. "No. Why do you think I'm up here?"

"To steal our food and Peter's juice." Stephen responds without missing a beat and Peter perks up.

"Juice?" Peter asks with a bit of hope in his eyes.

"I got you Shortstack."

With his free hand, Stephen opens a small portal to the baby supplies up in the master bedroom and grabs a sippy cup. He hands the cup to Scott as the small portal closes and the other man fills it with apple juice. He dilutes it with some water and then hands it to Peter, and the baby drinks from the sippy cup while Stephen finishes making oatmeal. They didn't have a high chair to put Peter in so Stephen had to resort to holding the child in his lap and feeding him that way. He would have let Peter feed himself, but he wanted to try and avoid having food dropped on him, and by some small miracle, Peter was happy to be fed.

Scott sat in the living room and watched tv while he waited for Stephen and Peter to finish breakfast, and it wasn't a very long wait. Teenage Peter was definitely still in charge of baby Peter's appetite so he wasn't picky about the oatmeal and ate more than Stephen originally thought he would. The sorcerer chuckles when some of the oatmeal ends up on Peter's face, and the baby tries to squirm away when Stephen tries to clean him off with a napkin.

"Peter, hold still. Your face is a mess!"

Stephen sighs as the boy continues to squirm and he takes him over to the sink where he sets Peter on the counter and wets a paper towel. A dry napkin probably didn't feel good on Peter's sensitive skin, so he figured that maybe a wet paper towel would be more easily accepted. The baby didn't squirm as much this time around, only when the doctor had to scrub a little bit at drier pieces of cereal. Once Peter was oatmeal free, Stephen takes him back up to the master bedroom and changes him into a clean diaper before he dresses him in what little clothes they had for him. His hands started to shake afterwards though and he glared at them, mentally demanding them to stop because he still had to get dressed himself and Peter wasn't likely to let Scott hold him.

"Mama hurt?" Peter asks from his sitting position on the bed.

Stephen forces a smile he didn't feel. "No cub. Now you stay right there while I get dressed."

Peter waits patiently on the bed while Stephen get a dressed, the sorcerer of course keeping one eye on the baby at all times, and then picking him up once he finishes. The sorcerer eyes him curiously when Peter wraps his arms around Stephen's neck, and then drops his arms from under Peter to test his theory. When the baby remains on his hip with no effort of any kind, it proved that Peter still had his powers. That would help Stephen immensely in the future what with his hands not being strong enough to hold the baby all day.

He just hoped Peter didn't figure out he could climb on the walls too.

"Ready to go to the store Spiderling?"

"Yup!"

Stephen smiles and hooks one arm under Peter, and then grabs his phone, wallet, and sling ring as he walks out of the master bedroom and down to the living room. He creates a portal to the nearest Target and motions to it with his head when he looks at Scott. The man turns off the television and follows the sorcerer through it and they turn around the corner from the side of the building to the front and walk inside. It was still a bit early on a weekday, so there weren't many people shopping, but it wouldn't have really mattered. He and Scott weren't as significant as the some other members of the team and Stephen was just fine with that. He could take his time getting Peter what he needed for the next couple of weeks without being swarmed.

"So are we splitting up and making this go faster or what?" Scott asks as Stephen retrieves a cart and deposits Peter into the seat.

"Here." The sorcerer conjures up a list and hands it over to the thief. "You're an experienced parent. Go get these and some diapers for a two year old."

Scott looks Peter over. "Isn't he at that age where you can start potty training him?"

"I'm not going to bother when this is only going to last a couple of weeks."

"Diapers can get expensive."

Stephen raises an eyebrow at Scott. "I'm married to a billionaire."

"Fair."

"I'll be in the children's section." The sorcerer informs the other man as he walks over to the children's section and over to the clothes.

He had to double check the tags on the clothes Peter was currently wearing before he looked at anything, and he threw a few extra sets of summer clothes into the cart while simultaneously taking things from Peter that the baby managed to get a hold of. It was mostly just clothes and they were returned to the racks without much trouble, but then Stephen took him down the toy aisle.

Brown eyes widen in awe and delight at the vast assortment of toys, and the sorcerer allowed him to pick a few toys since teenage Peter didn't own anything suitable for young children. To Stephen's surprise, Peter only picked out about four toys, and just when he was about to leave the aisle, the baby suddenly screeched happily.

"Bear!" Peter points up to a higher shelf and Stephen looks up to find a fluffy brown teddy bear that was almost as big as the baby himself. "Please Mama?"

Stephen smiles softly and reaches up to grab the stuffed toy. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Peter giggles and cuddles the bear as soon as the doctor hands it to him, and Stephen looks back up when stuff gets thrown into the cart. He stares at the variety of items that Scott had just dumped into it and then looks up at the thief.

"Three boxes of diapers?"

Scott points at the sorcerer. "Trust me Mama Bear. You'll thank me later. You're better off over prepared than sending one of us off in the middle of the night for more."

Stephen shrugs, not about to argue with that logic and they make their way to the registers. The cashier seemed to study Stephen as she rang up their purchases, maybe trying to figure out why he looked so familiar, but then she saw the ring on the doctor's left hand when he pulled out his wallet and visibly deflated. She was actually checking him out and it would have gone completely over Stephen's head if she hadn't looked at his hand.

Scott managed to hold in his laughter until after they paid and went around the side of the building once they walked outside. The sorcerer kicks the thief in his shins as he opens a portal and grabs Peter who was still happily playing with his stuffed bear, leaving Scott to grab everything else after a hiss of pain. Stephen closes the portal as soon as the ex-con carries everything through and he sets Peter down on the floor.

"You stay here and play with your bear. Okay?"

"Kay!"

Stephen crouches down to brush back unruly brown curls and gently kisses Peter's forehead before standing back up and helping Scott put things away. He very briefly went upstairs to put some of the baby supplies in the master bedroom while Scott kept an eye on Peter, but it was long enough for someone to step onto the family floor and make Peter screech happily again. Before he could panic though, a string of Italian sentences followed the happy noise.

"Bambino!" Tony was home, and Stephen stepped out of the room just in time to see his husband scoop up their son and his teddy bear to kiss him all over his face. "Where's Mama Bear?"

"Upstairs putting some things away in the bedroom." Scott replies from the couch.

"Daddy! Look!" Peter holds up the bear (or at least tries to) to Tony and the engineer grins.

"Who got that for you?"

"Mama!" The baby answers with a smile and Stephen walks down the stairs to join them.

"I thought you had meetings until tomorrow?" He asks after Tony pecks him on the cheek.

"I did...but then I decided that I wanted to enjoy my baby as a baby while I can." Tony sets Peter back down on the floor and takes off his sunglasses. "You just get back from the store?"

"He left behind a trail of broken hearts." Scott says with a cheeky smile and the billionaire raises an eyebrow.

"He's exaggerating. The cashier was disappointed when she saw the ring." Stephen says with a roll of his eyes.

Tony just smiles and pulls him into a proper kiss. "That's right. You're my wife and Peter is my--" He looks down at their son and finds the baby leaning against his teddy bear and rubbing his eyes. "He's apparently my very sleepy baby."

Stephen smiles. "Your turn."

"Giving up the baby willingly? Who are you?" His husband asks with mock surprise.

"I'm not. I'm joining your nap that I know you're going to take with him."

"Don't break anything Thumbelina." Tony says as he once again picks up Peter, getting a 'no promises' in response from Scott. "Nap time ragazzino."

Stephen leans over to pick up the teddy bear that their dozing child had dropped, and he follows his husband back up to the bedroom. Stephen cuddles with Peter on the bed while Tony changes into more suitable clothes for lounging at home, and the elder man joins them on the other side of the baby. He turns on the tv as Stephen curls into his side with Peter, and gently cards his hand through the sorcerer's hair.

"Tired tesoro?"

Stephen hums quietly. "No. It's like you said. I'm just enjoying our baby while he's a baby."

"He's a cute baby." Tony whispers as the younger lays his head on his shoulder.

Although Stephen wasn't tired, he still fell asleep to Tony's ministrations, and the engineer had dozed off with his arm around the doctor. Peter safely nestled between them with his teddy bear and a thumb in his mouth.

#mama bear stephen strange #supremefamily #ironstrange #peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #scott lang

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starjeno · 5 years

Text

bloom | n.jm | 1

genre: angst, fluff? | hanahaki!au pairing: student!jaemin x female!reader warnings: vomiting/choking, blood, lots of flashbacks summary: jaemin suffers from a special kind of unrequited love — one that makes him choke out flowers. a/n: my first fic! and it’s sad! i have never read the manga where hanahaki originated from, all the information i got was from google. all the flashbacks are in italics :o enjoy!

for the last five years, jaemin’s gone through hell.

it’s not hell in the typical sense — there are no demons that follow him and he isn’t caught up in some horrifying gore-filled scenario. nothing like that. jaemin considers his condition infinitely worse.

as children, he never batted an eye at you. though your families were close, you two never really clicked as your parents thought you would. trips together were dull and classes were even duller. to jaemin, you were just another blade of grass in a field. you didn’t really mind.

“jaem!” you call out, and he whips his head over to meet your eyes. he’s been waiting at this park bench for what seemed to be ages. your lips curve upward at his blank expression, “sorry! did you wait long?”

35 minutes.

“i just got here, no worries,” he smiles. he pauses suddenly as he feels his chest swell with a sharp pain, right above his heart, “i need to use the restroom. one moment.”

jaemin rushes off towards the nearest building, gripping his torso firmly. he feels an upward flow and makes it to an empty stall just in time to heave. light pink apple blossoms trickle out of his system. they bob on top of the water gently, and jaemin notes the darker tinge at the base of the petals.

“shit.” it’s the only thing he can say right now. his hands run messily through his bangs while he thinks about his second year of high school, the athletic festival, right before the 100 meter sprint. jaemin thinks of it as the first time he threw up petals.

“i’m going to win that race.”

jaemin freezes. he happened to walk past the water fountains when your harsh whispers filled the quiet air. he hears another giggle from one of your friends.

“what if he was lying?”

“lying?!” you exclaim, and jaemin has to stifle a laugh at your incredulous tone while you continued, “he declared in class that he would go on a date with whichever girl won the 100 meters.”

“it was just to get his fan club’s hopes up.” jaemin nods at your friend’s sentiments, but you aren’t deterred.

“well, as part of his fan club, my hopes are up!”

jaemin continues walking after that. he doesn’t really care.

jaemin smiles a bit at the memory, but then remembers you’re still waiting for him. he flushes the petals down and laughs bitterly as he washes his face. for the rest of the world, apple blossoms represent good health and eternal love. for jaemin, they’re the opposite.

he’s happy for now, though. watching you run up to him and ask if he’s okay makes his heart swell with love. you grab jaemin’s hand and lead the way down various streets. a smile spreads on his face without him realizing when he recognizes the route to the animal shelter — you had remembered when he talked about wanting a dog since forever. when you arrive in front of the building, you turn and smile, “surprise! i know you want a dog really badly so maybe you can spread that love to some of the pups in here!”

jaemin wraps you in a warm hug, feeling his chest heat up. he bit his lip, not knowing whether it’s because you care about him so much or the petals beginning to form in his throat again.

jaemin trudges over to the track, where you stood stretching. a hand strikes him on his shoulder, and he twists his head to see jeno grinning happily. jaemin’s best friend for the last six years had dragged him here to watch the girls in their grade “for educational purposes”. jaemin agreed.

“isn’t that ____? she’s cute,” jeno remarks, nudging jaemin. he was already watching you bend side to side, loosening your arms. jaemin nods absentmindedly, thinking back to your resolution to win.

“you know, mark said that he would date whoever won this race?” jaemin motions to the track below and jeno snorts, “he’s such a dick! he thrives off these girls flailing over him.”

jaemin hums in agreement. by now, everyone had lined up at the starting line. he watches you now, eyes curious with how fast you’ll run. at the pop of the toy gun, cheering ensues from the bleachers. jeno laughs with glee, but jaemin stays silent. the amount of effort you sprinted with made his cheeks flush with anticipation. he doesn’t understand why you would put so much effort in for someone you had a silly crush on.

would you ever do this for him?

jaemin’s face turned a dark shade of red as you zoomed past the finish line, collapsing onto your knees. jeno shrieks with joy at your victory before glancing over at jaemin, who’s heaving and furrowing his eyebrows.

“jaemin?” he asks cautiously, and jaemin turns to jeno with fear creeping up the protruding veins of his neck. he opens his mouth to respond, but instead of words, a petal falls out. jeno’s mouth drops open, “you ate a fucking flower? when?”

jaemin wipes his lips with wide eyes and looks at the moist baby pink crescent in his lap. an apple blossom, like the trees that grew around his home.

jaemin rubs the puppy’s ears fondly, watching its fur fall back into place. the room is filled with barks and laughter and jaemin believes he could not feel any more bliss than this. his smile slowly fades when he knows you and him could not be like this forever.

“jaemin!” you laugh, holding up the paw of a small bichon frise, “we should totally get a puppy! we could take turns caring for it or — oh! maybe we can even move in together!”

jaemin’s face whips up in shock, his bangs landing messily, “what?”

“oh! it was just a thought, you know?” you bite your lip, realizing how crazy that must’ve sounded, “since we study at neighboring colleges and you have a part-time job …”

jaemin looks away, blushing and smiling. he loves you, especially when you plan out a future with him in it. his chest pierces with a flash of pain and he groans, eyebrows curling in alarm.

you glance over, freezing up when he clutches the curve of his neck, “jaem? what’s wrong?”

he gives a weak smile, “i think i ate something bad.”

before you could reach out to him, jaemin flees and runs over to the bathroom. he curls over a toilet again, hurling petal after petal. the water was covered by a pink layer now, and jaemin’s alarmed. it’s more than last time and though he was told the quantity would increase, he never knew the color would deepen and the taste would be more metallic. it was almost like —

“ — blood?”

“hanahaki disease.”

“what?” jaemin says in confusion. jeno repeats again, this time with emphasis, “ha-na-ha-ki. i did some research.”

“research?” jeno nods, “you’ve been spitting petals out all week! it’s like every time we eat lunch, you spit out a flower!”

jaemin grumbles, “it’s only 1 or 2 petals.”

“it’s only not normal,” jeno retorts. he turns over his laptop and opens a basic google search, “it’s a disease that’s really rare. almost unheard of. you cough up flower petals when you have unrequited love.”

jaemin chokes at the last word, “love? that’s a strong word.” there was no way he was in love with you yet, there hadn’t even been a proper conversation between you two.

“yeah, who in the world do you love so much that it makes you grow a whole garden in your lung?” jeno asks sarcastically.

jaemin stays silent.

“but, this doesn’t look too good jaem. you’ll die if they can’t reciprocate your feelings. you’ll keep throwing up more and more flowers until it suffocates you,” jeno says in concern. he looks up at jaemin, fearful, “do your parents know? how long has this been happening?”

“they don’t, only you. you saw the first one.”

“good god, jaemin. y-you need to see a doctor! tell your parents! something!” jeno runs his hand through his hair, standing up. his eyes are pinker than usual and jaemin exhales shakily. he didn’t want to die.

jaemin had sighed a thousand times today. his head hurt, and while puppies could seemingly cure everything, they couldn’t ease his pain. you gaze at jaemin when he walks back into the room, “are you sure you’re okay?”

he doesn’t want to end this time with you early, but he felt like jeno needed an update, especially since neither of you knew that actual blood would be involved, “i don’t feel that great, sorry.”

“don’t be sorry! let me walk you to your car,” you hurridly plead, to which jaemin nods gratefully. the walk is silent with the exception of pointing out a cloud that looked funny or some strange person on the sidewalk. when he slides into his car seat, you press your lips to his cheek through the window, whispering a small goodbye and jogging off.

jaemin rests his head on the wheel once you disappear, and he feels something hot and wet on his cheek.

he knows his version of hell is the worst.

next | masterlist

#bloom #starjeno #jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream jaemin #jaemin ff #jaemin angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #angst #nct dream #nct #hanahaki #hanahaki au #hanahaki jaemin

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solidservantry · 5 years

Text

DESPOT DESPAIR: CHAPTER 2 RECAP

This journal will act as a recap for everything that has happened during Chapter 2. This means there will be information that Tsuyu/Yahari would not realistically know. This is only for the sake of the recap. If you’re confused on who’s who, here’s a link to the roster page.

NOTE TO SELF: These are MANUSCRIPT NOTES!!! They’re meant to be a rough rough rough ROUGH draft of my FIRST NOVEL!!!! Tentatively titled Tsuyu Tsuyuki and the Primrose Palace Peril.

That trial sucked. It really, really, really sucked. I’ve never seen anybody die, not in real life, and I never wanna see it again, ever. Ami was one thing, but Kokoro... we had to watch her die and get executed, and it was just horrible.

I guess I don’t have it as bad as Airi, though, since he and Kokoro were dating, apparently? I had no idea until he just started losing it when she died.

But even if I didn’t have things as bad as he did, I still kinda lost it a little bit.

So, by now, anyone reading this book would know that I’m pretending to be somebody else. Everybody still thinks that I’m just Tsuyu Tsuyuki, SHSL Servant. And I am the SHSL Servant, but my real name isn’t Tsuyu, it’s Yahari Yasui, the master detective and, since you’re reading this, successfully published mystery novelist! Currently, I’m Ricardo Caballero’s butler, but I’m really just doing it because... well, that’s spoilers. You guys have to keep reading to find out!

Anyway! After the trial, I went to talk to Ricardo, and he started going on about how miserable he is here, and Tsuyu got mad, and I sorta did, too. Tsuyu is just a character and all, and it fits with what would make them mad, but it made me a little mad, too. So I kind of ended up going off on him and telling him about how he needs to think about other people for a change, and he was really, really upset.

So I went outside to get a breath of fresh air and take a swim, and then Yuu showed up. He started going on about how I’m a loser and everything and I was still mad, so I... well, we fought? And I kind of ended up killing him? But it’s fine because I revived him!!! I think he’s gonna hold that against me forever, though.

I ended up storming off after that, and I went to the kitchen and saw Sakura! I was trying to stresscook, and she kept trying to ask what was wrong, and I ended up so absorbed in my anger that I accidentally cut myself. But when I tried to wash the wound, I burned my hand with the water, then I fell backwards and hit my head on the floor!

Things are kinda fuzzy after that since I think I got a little concussion or something, but I left the kitchen and then went to the infirmary and Liya was there! We talked some and they patched me up and... we kinda ended up napping together on a cot? But. That’s not the important part! The important part is we talked about how self-sacrificial they are, and I made them pinky swear not to give up or do something stupid and end up getting themself killed!

After that... Tsuguyo and Azumaya had an argument that ended in Tsuguyo storming off, and she talked with Cai for a while and he gave her his sunglasses and she looked really cool! And there were some weird eggy cinnamon rolls in the fridge and they were REALLY BAD and I think Tsuguyo made them with Momo... It’d make sense since neither of them know how to cook.

Speaking of people who don’t know how to cook, Ricardo tried to make rice! And he failed! So Sakura tried to give him a hand. I think he also tried to make spaghetti, too, but he just put it in a pot with two drops of water and left it there instead of actually doing anything. He thought it would cook itself! I guess that makes sense, since he normally has other people do everything for him.

Ricardo and Yuu also looked around and completed some kind of puzzle! The toys ended up giving them a chest, and they opened it and found a weird symbol! I’m kinda sad that I didn’t find it first, but sometimes it’s just like that, I guess. There was also a list of names and stuff in it!

.....ologist

Midori Uehara - SHSL Detective

Mika Hanyuu - SHSL Ballroom Dancer

Roseanne Aurora Li - SHSL Broadway Actress

Roshan Shinten - SHSL Biomedical Engineer

Saruhiko Kizuguchi - SHSL Sharpshooter

Takeshi Taro - SHSL Tic Tac Toe Champion

Towa Sonogami - SHSL Roboticist

Yuko Kuwashima - SHSL Home Tutor

Ricardo and Mari hosted self defense classes for judo! Tsuguyo really wanted to learn, so Hanae helped her out, and they ended up totally owning Ricardo! Airi also got his shoulder dislocated, which he deserved bigtime. After that, he was taken to the infirmary and Kliment and Liya tried to help him out! Liya has generally been serving as the doctor for everybody, so that’s pretty nice.

After all that, Ricardo and I (still as Tsuyu) talked a bunch and ended up making up! That was cool, while it lasted.

But then we got the new motive. It was basically that if you get away with murder, you can choose half of the participants to escape with, while the other half gets executed immediately.

But that wasn’t it. Not that long after, we got a second part of the motive: a lot of people’s secrets were exposed. I guess it was to help with the decision of who to save and who to kill.

In terms of other stuff that happened… it turned out that the guy who raised Tsuguyo is on death row, and she told Airi that his charges include fraud, arson, and over 100 counts of murder and attempted murder. Yikes!

Oh, and during the secrets thingy, Yuu tried to hide his own secret and Liya tried to hide someone else’s (more on that in a second…), so they got SHOCK COLLARS!!! I hope nothing bad happens.

But, okay, so the secret Liya tried to hide was actually mine. It was that Tsuyu’s not real and that they’re really me and all that, and when the secret got outed anyway, Ricardo really didn’t take it well! On one hand, I get it, but, come on, Ricky. It’s nothing personal! After that, though, he just kept moping and ate a bunch of ice cream because he was so depressed. To say the least, us making up was pretty short-lived.

But after all that, I went and gave myself a peptalk! It’s kinda weird, showing everyone who I really am after pretending to be Tsuyu, but I’m AMAZING, so it’ll all work out! For example, my two closest buddies right now, Sakura and Liya, both were kinda weirded out, warmed up to me pretty quickly!

And on the topic of Sakura, she was so determined to live for other people all the time and not do anything for herself, and as we kept talking and stuff, I tried to convince her to live for herself, too!

But I’m not the only one Sakura got close to! She and Mari had a heart-to-heart in the infirmary! Mari told Sakura about how she got into scuffles with cops, but didn’t go into detail, and Sakura thought Mari might have anger issues! She told Mari it was okay, but Mari said that she acts the way she does because she doesn’t wanna deal with turbulent emotions because acting on them ends badly!

Sakura told Mari that it’s okay to be erratic and temperamental, and it’s just human nature! And she told Mari she’d accept her no matter what. Mari thought Sakura was amazing and virtuous and all that, and she’d protect her, too! And then they vented and shared more secrets.

And then we all had a picnic! Me and Hanae helped prepare some food for it, and Cai saved Hanae from drowning, and I helped Sakura confess her crush to Mari! She was really embarrassed, though, even though I did a GREAT job!

Tsuguyo also got pushed off the roof of the gazebo, but Ricardo caught her! So she promised to teach him how to make origami horses to pay him back.

Everything was really nice! …Until it wasn’t. Yuu kept throwing apples at people, and when he threw one at Muqiu, he didn’t move. We all got closer to see what was up, and we realized that Muqiu was dead.

After that, we investigated for a while, and then it was time to have the trial. It turned out that Muqiu didn’t wanna keep going through the killing game, so he made a deal with Sakura for her to kill him in an assisted suicide.

What happened was they organized the picnic to mask the time of death, and then Sakura made poisoned mochi and gave it to Muqiu in his room. She got the poison from the apples in the forest, since apple seeds have cyanide in them. He ate the cyanide mochi, then died, and none of us even realized it until midway through the party.

Sakura planned to sacrifice herself, too, and gave people the offer that if they purposefully mistrialed for her, she’d save the people who voted to help her rig it. When Muqiu was alive, they made a kill/save list together, and here’s what was on it:

Kill: Airi, Gam, Ivy, Keiyuu, Momo, Sakura, Ren, Tsuguyo

Save: Azumaya, Cai, Hanae, Hitomi, Kliment, Liya, Mari, Ricardo, Yahari

We all got into a huge debate about what to do, and I tried to get Tsuguyo added to the save list because she’s practically a LITTLE BABY and doesn’t deserve to die. Liya also tried to sacrifice themselves, too, and that made me mad.

A lot of us tried to vote for ourselves instead of Sakura to save more people, but in the end, there were still a lot of votes for her, and Sakura got executed. Hakumei ended up getting pulled into it, too, and she also died.

After all of that, I’m… really tired. I hope we find a way out soon.

- YAHARI YASUI

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nightlovechild · 5 years

Text

Bad Lair - Logan's Week. (Day 7: LAMPD)

I HAVE RISEN FROM THE DEAD! My muse came back and she has blessed me by staying with me!

Warnings: Lies, Deception, Spanking, Blow job, Hand job, 69ing, Deceit (His name is Dimitri)

Summary: Logan, spectacularly, loses a bet against Roman. The bet: Not lying for 72 hours. The catch: Dimitri's been keeping tabs the whole time.

“Logan, how much coffee have you had?” Patton asked shaking the almost empty tin.

“Sorry, what are were you saying Pat?” Logan tried to dismiss the question. Furiously collecting his papers from the table and his precious coffee mug.

“I asked how much coffee you’ve had?” Patton restated. He could have sworn he had Roman fill this yesterday. “Because either you or Virgil are pulling all nighters again.”

“Only on my third cup. If you are making more actually…” Logan was cut off by the tip of a wooden paddle under his chin guiding his mouth shut.

“Well, that makes a full set in my book.” Dimitri let the hiss blend out the s's in his loud statement. His intention to get Patton's attention clearly working.

“Hi Dee-honey, did you want breakfast? We’re going to have scrambled” Patton cracked on additional egg on the side of the bowl then threw it into the sink.“Wait! LOGAN RATIONALE SANDERS! Did you just lie to me?” The shock and outrage ringing in Patton’s voice as he whipped off his apron. Patton took a towering stance over Logan. His eyes flicking back on forth between Logan and Dee.

Dimitri couldn't help but think Patton was a little slow in the morning, but quick to get answers. It made his cock harden at the fire in Patton’s eyes.

Logan swallowed hard as the wooden paddle slid back to his Adam's apple. Why had he ever let Roman drag him into this bet? Who knew not lying was so burdensome.

~☆~

“You could not!” Roman barked a laugh in Logan’s face.

“FALSEHOOD! My interests are never to conceal the facts in any situation. But to enlighten the minds of all involved. Frankly, 72 hours of honesty would benefit you greatly.” Logan said as he leaned closer. His finger jabbing at Roman’s red sash.

“Respect others personal space, please. No touching unless you’ve been given consent” Patton reminded them as he came into the living room.

“I would if Roman showed respect for the scientific method. This show is inspired by the work of Paul Ekman, the world's foremost expert on facial expressions and detection of lies.” Logan continued on ramping up for a great speech.

“Radical honesty was just a ploy. So Chill L.The show is using to get away with shocking the viewers. To be honest, It gives me second hand embarrassment. So can we just finish it.” Virgil cringed deeper into Patton’s side while pulling his hood up.

“Edger Allen Foe is right. A character vowing to be honest a hundred percent of the time is there for comical relief.” Roman explained while grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Plus betting against me? Well all I can say is failure never suits you.”

A growl issued from Logan's throat that was usually reserved for scheduling conflicts found at 3am.

“Watching your reputation tarnish like the cheap metal you and your sword are forged out of will be my pleasure.To these terms, I do accept.” Logan stuck his hand out with such force, Roman was forced to step up.

Their handshake sent a wave through the mindscape.

~☆~

“Answer me Mister!” Patton demanded.

Logan had to think fast. Roman would never let him live this down for one moment if he didn’t get past Patton’s interrogation. Spying the time on clock on the wall, He only had 35 minutes left until the bet expired. It would have been simple to fool Patton but with the Master of lies being here. Logan would need to believe his words. Sitting up a bit straighter and adjusting his tie, Logan took a deep breath without the solid gleaming paddle sitting against his blushing skin.

“As I stated previously. I have only had three cups of coffee.” Logan stated clearly and with a precision that would have made Sherlock Holmes impressed.

“You’re lying! Right now!” Patton chided as the smirk on Dimitri’s face turn predatory.

“How? I mean.. Falsehood! “I have had three cups of coffee since sunrise.” Logan was falling apart as the wooden paddle traced down his body to his lap. The increasing pressure between his legs made Logan crack. “But I haven’t been to bed yet so I have technically imbibed 17 cups of coffee since you made the first pot yesterday.” Logan’s confession ending in panting as Dimitri lightly rubbed the paddle against Logan’s sore but hardening cock.

“See? Doesn’t that feel better? Lying never suits my toys.’ Dimitri cooed while grabbing the back of Logan’s collar and guiding him over to the back of the couch. “Hold this for me, won’t you?”

Logan bit his bottom lip as he put his palms flat. The paddle looking so innocent now in his own hands. Logan whimpered as Dimitri undid his belt then his zipper with practiced ease. Slowly yellow gloved fingers lowered his pants just below his ass.

“Patton you’re in for a treat today, if you want it. There is no need to feel bad if you say no. We,” Dimitri pinched the firm ass in front of him as he continued, “have a prearranged agreement that lying is a punishable offence, isn’t that right my toy?”

“Yes, Sir!” Logan answered shortly.

“So he’ll get that is coming to him either way. But if you say yes.” Dimitri took the paddle from Logan’s out held hands as pushed his chest to the back of the couch, presenting a tempting target for Patton.

“Well, you get the picture.”

Patton’s feelings twisted and turned. If this had been like one of his Saturday morning cartoons there would have been an angel on one shoulder and a little devil on the other. It was a simple misunderstanding the Angel would say. Maybe Logan hadn’t understood the promise he made to Patton weeks ago after their discussion about coffee consumption. How it has a nasty way of making Patton panicky. Caffeine has that effect on the heart, you know. The Devil just wondered how many strokes it would take to make Logan whimper Patton’s name all pretty like? Patton gripped the offered handle tight as the angel on his shoulder fainted and the devil chuckled.

“How many times have I told you nice boys don’t lie to their Daddies!” Patton let the paddle fall with a nice smack.

Logan jumped away from the strike but couldn’t go far as Patton’s other hand weighted against his lower back. The crack of the paddle against Logan’s ass and echoing moan couldn’t cover the joyous laughter of the Prince joining the scene.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen! My sweet sweet pocket protector! Why didn’t you just come to me? Admit you couldn’t follow through with our bet and avoid all this humiliation? Sucking me off doesn’t seem like such a mighty command now does it?” Roman bounced on the balls of his feet as he stood next to Dimitri. Enjoying how the snake’s arms slithered around him holding his body close and out of the path of the swinging paddle.

“Bite me, writer’s-blockhead. This is your fault.” Logan bit out around a moan as another smack connected.

“Oh, No. We are not blaming the foolish prince for your actions. You lying to everyone was your own choice.” Dimitri scolded Logan as he stroked Roman through his soft pajama bottoms to quell any of the royal’s protests.

“You lied to all of us?” A gruff voice pulled their attention back to the stairs. Virgil stood on the landing hugging his open hoodie around his middle while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You got that straight, even though we’re gay, my fellow fibbing fatality. But, I have dibs to spank him next. You can go after I'm done with nerd-boy." Roman relished as he flexed his hands warming each digit up individually.

“Why do I have to go after you?” Virgil grimaced at Roman as Dimitri slipped past the quarrelsome boys.

Patton’s anger was a flash in the pan as Logan started whimpering, legs shaking. The fifth swing connected and Logan’s sweet voice uttered his name. Patton adjusted himself as Logan’s hand reached out to grip Patton’s pant leg.

“My sweet boy.” Patton’s words were comforting as he hugged the logical side to himself.

Gloved hands caressing their backs as Patton and Logan traded slow kisses. Humming as Dimitri joined in, lips pressing together in sets. Allowing the third to watch as the other two kiss, then they would exchange partners. Logan’s attention was slipping into the lust as he grinded against both of his dominants. But too quick to process his Sir was standing behind him tugging his pants and underwear down sharply. The elastic band made his cock snap back up, marking Patton’s tan slacks with precome as his cock bounced. Letting Logan step out of the material, Sir discarded the items.

Soft kisses to Patton's flushed cheeks, Dimitri took the paddle back. Holding it out to the other's. The royal and anxious side’s grabbing the handle at the same time. "I didn't think lying was so crucial to my day to day life." Logan admitted as Dimitri’s hands ran over his bare ass evaluating the level of pinkness. "Lo, you can't bake a cake with salt instead of sugar and wonder why it tastes bitter.” Patton guided Logan to the other side of the couch to sit them both down.

“But each cake gets a half teaspoon of salt to enhance all the other flavors though.” Dimitri purred as his fingers grasped the short hairs at the nape of Logan’s neck, his other hand moving Logan on to his hands and knees over Patton’s lap. “And Logan’s lying has greatly improved the outlook all of our morning, wouldn’t you agree my heart?” Dimitri’s voice was thick as he stroked the moral side’s obvious bulge. The responding moan was taken as a yes.

Flipping the paddle over in their argument, Roman and Virgil stalled as they stared at the cutout imprint that was suddenly carved into the cherry oak paddle; 'Falsehood'. "Who wants to make that legible across this pretty little lair's ass?" Deceit smirked thumb and forefinger gripping Logan's face tight.

“Me! ME! Everyone knows it’s beauty before the beast.” Roman said.

“Fat chance, Price Pig-head! I’m next!” Virgil bit back.

“I know! Why don’t we gauge it on the size of the lie told? Doesn’t that sound fun my toy?” Dimitri’s voice no longer hiding the giddiness of it all. Having all four of the side’s attention was a rare thing. The snake side was living his best life right now.

“Okay.” They agreed in unison. Turning to face Logan as a united force.

“Better not keep them waiting, my toy. It might turn out to be detrimental to your health if you do.” Dimitri knelt down giving Logan the stage.

Goosebumps crawled across Logan’s body as the chill of their glazes sunk in. This wasn’t going to be easy. Adjusting the weight on his shoulders by moving his hands, the soft couch cushions giving away in a way he wished the floor would. Jumping at the soft touch across his fluttering stomach. Patton tried his best to reassure the logical side. Looking over his shoulder, Patton mouthed the word, Breathe. Drawing the oxygen deep in his lungs and exhaling.

“I don’t know which one is worse. I didn’t enter the situations with the intention to deceive. But your mental states... My loves, you needed my words more than…” Roman’s bored yawning became louder and Virgil’s darken circles made him look possessed.

“I stole Roman’s idea after I informed him it was ridiculous and moronic. I wrote it into the budgeting plan journal that Thomas keeps so I could get it out of the mindscape, but when Thomas and Joan found it later they thanked me. I didn’t correct them or tell Roman.” Logan was cut off by the offended Princey noises as Roman successfully yanked the paddle away from Virgil. But Dimitri blocked the royal as he whispered for Roman to breathe.

“Your anger is justified but acting in anger is not, my dear. We play in a safe, sane and consensual way. Relax with me and let us hear the lies that were commissioned just for our dark and stormy night.” The snake wielded his control as easily as he always does.

“The longer you live the chances of dying alone increases... Dramatically. There’s a 1:68 chance you’ll die in a car crash. The sound outside of your window last night was the wolf from the horror book I have been reading. I let it out of the subconscious. No, I don’t know how to put it back. I shrunk your blanket after I spilled coffee on it, because I couldn’t ask Patton to wash it for me, because I wasn’t supposed to be drinking coffee at 3am in the morning.” Logan rushed out adopting Virgil’s ripped band-aid style of reveals.

The gales of laughter that tore out of Virgil surprised everyone, but most of all Logan. Once the fits of laughter faded, Virgil smiled wide showing his teeth.

“Roman you can have his ass. I want his mouth. I am finally going to get something good out of it.” Virgil’s voice rung deep, distortion dancing along the syllables.

“Play nice boys. Patton and I would hate to have to spread the punishments out to the rest of you.” Dimitri said as he released his grip on Roman. Winking with a smirk at the Moral side.

The royal sprang to his feet without another word. Standing to the backside of his conquest, he spun the paddle choosing the flat or carved side to start with, but then paused. “You really pissed me off with the slight to my swords valor, but this wasn’t a part of your original agreement. I need your consent Logan. Because I want my pound of flesh, but only if your willing to give it.” Roman stood like a king awaiting the logical side’s answer.

“You are so much more than I have ever given you credit for, Roman. I would be proud to be humbled by you and your newly acquired and thankfully blunter sword. I openly agree to this new arrangement.” Logan’s voice held fast as he sat up on his knees, looking Roman in the eyes.

Swooping in like only the prince can Logan was being held and kissed in a maddening pace. Then thrown forward just as fast. Landing back again on his hands and knees. The only difference was Patton was gone and Virgil sat on the arm of the couch.Virgil’s pants pulled down just enough to expose his hard cock, which he was stroking with a smirk that made Logan lick his lips.

The swing of the paddle drove Logan forward face first into Virgil’s lap. A cry of pain and pleasure ringing out as Roman brought the paddle down again. Soft fingers brushed Logan’s hair out of his face and caressed down to his temples, removing his glasses.

“Don’t want those getting broke, do we? My sweet easily manipulated genius.” Virgil slid the head of his cock along Logan’s lips, leaving a shiny pre-come lip gloss as he went. “I knew you were lying to me. I am the anthology of apprehension, the tracker of trepidation. I asked because I wanted to see if you loved me enough to lie.”

The crack of paddle rung through the room, Logan rocked forward and Virgil pushed his hips forward, forcing his cock into Logan’s wet mouth, “I love you too, Lo.”

Overwhelmed was a nice, but far off word for how Logan was feeling. Logan was fucking flying. His mind lost in the moment his cock throbbing between his legs as he pulled his legs together to push himself further down on Virgil’s cock. Virgil only letting Logan breathe when his eyes started to water. His ass burned intensely as Roman continued, having turned the paddle over to the carved side. Roman’s many hours of training shining in his follow through. As Logan could feel the lettering bite into his skin. Needing his actions to repair what his pride could have ruined Logan tried his best to please both with his sounds and body. Virgil’s deep dark moans became growls as Logan pressed his nose to Virgil’s groin. It made his slutty heart jump as much as his cock.

“Fucking love when our boys play so well together.” Dimitri sat back on the coffee table drawing Patton to his lap.

“Language!” Patton tried to sound authoritative, but failed as Dimitri magically clicked his clothes away. The soft worn yellow gloves working across Patton’s sensitive body.

“Ohh. Dee. T-that feels.” Patton melted back against the dark side’s body as the skilled hands worked all the tension out of his shoulders and thick thighs then playing with his soft stomach and hard nipples.

It was glorious. All the sights and sounds before him. Playing with his toy was great, but watching the others play with his toy while fondling the DILF of his wet dreams, Dimitri could have been stricken from the mindscape with a smile on face. But he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until they were all sticky and worn out.

“Let me see your handiwork there, Princey.” Dimitri called out while he let his hand slide down to Patton’s inner thigh. Humming as Logan’s bright red ass bore the word Falsehood over and over again. “That’s wonderful. Won’t be able to sit without thinking about you, us, all of this for days. Why don’t you give my toy a little pleasure for taking his punishment so well.”

“Can I fuck him?” Roman knelt behind Logan, gripping his hips and grinding hard against Logan’s swollen ass. The yelp turned into vibrations around Virgil’s cock, making Roman do it again, just to see Virgil’s eyes roll back in his head again.

“No. A bad toy doesn’t get that much pleasure. But you can use him anyway you need to get off. Being creative, think of something. Dimitri clicked the rest of Roman’s clothes away. The action made Patton moan at the sight Roman’s cock standing at attention.

“Fuck..Fuck F-fuck yes.” Virgil chanted as Logan continued sucking him down. Being able to truly focus without Roman’s punishing force. “I’m ...gonna…’M” Virgil’s words blending out into groans as Virgil spilled right there. Logan’s throat flexed around his cock taking every drop.

“Mine now!” Roman kissed Virgil as his pulling Logan off the other’s softening cock. Forcing Logan up onto his knees on then flat onto his back. The couch springs creaking as the prince straddled Logan’s head, but facing Logan’s body. Roman lowered himself once Logan’s hands greedily helped the prince’s cock into his mouth. Roman matched the logical side’s actions, deep-throating Logan in three strokes. Their hands wrapped around each other’s hips, helping each other thrust and move. Getting off as fast as they could manage. Virgil assisted by keep Roman’s hair out of his face as the prince went to work on their redeemed lair.

The sight of his boys 69ing right in front of his eyes with Virgil so sweetly looking after them. Adding in the feeling of Dimitri sharp teeth nibbling on his shoulder while the snake’s hands worked his cock in time with their thrusting hips. Patton come so hard, his semen arched high and splattered across Logan’s thigh and Roman’s arm.

“That’s it, come on them, such dirty sluts! Deserve to be marked for sucking each other off on the couch. F-ffuck yes grind against me, Pat. Keep doing that, right there” Dimitri’s mouth continued as he made a mess inside his underwear as Roman’s and Logan’s muffled moans peaked and went quiet. Panting and kissing carried on as everyone sat up with dopey smiles and realized how sticky they all were.

The living room slowly transformed from a den of iniquity to a place of soft blankets, sweet snacks and big glasses of water. Cleaned up and fresh pajamas on, everyone cuddled around the blushing brainiac. Making sure he was okay while they settled into to start on a new show.

Patton picked up the remote, pausing the show. “Wait, Dee you set at the beginning of this. It was a full set in your book. Does that mean Logan lied to you too?”

“Yeah. ‘No Sir, I only think about you when I get hard. The others never cross my mind.’” Dee mimicked Logan’s voice while pulling him close. “Such a bad lair.”

Logan tried to hide his face while they all started laughing.

#sanderssides/sm/ut/month #sanderssides/sm/ut/month2018 #logan's week #lampd #calmd #Day 7 #notsafeforsanders #I'M BACK BITCHES!!!!

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