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thatmultifandomhoe · 3 years

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Wish Upon a Star

Our childhoods began with the magic that was found within these movies. Whether it be Disney, Pixar, or Studio Ghibli, our love has not once wavered. We’ve grown, and dare we say that we’ve matured, but there’s still a special place in our hearts for our favorite movies.

Except, these movies now have a twist.

We are no longer kids.

Welcome to Wish Upon a Star, where your favorite childhood movie finally grew up.

Disclaimer: The following stories are a combination of SFW, NSFW, or a combination of both.

Wish Upon A Star is collaboration of works containing stories based on some of our favorite movies from Disney, Pixar, and Studio Ghibli.

Writers from both the BTS Fic Hub and BTS Smut Hub servers (founded by @gukyi) have come together to write stories for the month of January. While this event is not directly affiliated with these servers, please feel free to check them out!

Name of the Game by @ggukcangetit

Movie: Anastasia

Starring: Seokjin and Reader

Summary: The Hotel - Strange, The Manager - Far Too Charming, The Situation - Dire, The One in Trouble - You.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 9th.

Two Birds, One Cake: by @pajaritojin

Movie: Brave

Starring: Prince Seokjin and Witch Reader

Summary: After Seokjin fails to return his mother to her human state because Y/N gave him the wrong spell, he is forced to release the Queen into the wilderness whilst he tracks down Y/N.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 20th.

That Famous Happy Ending by: @jinpanman

Movie: Enchanted

Starring: Seokjin and Reader

Summary: You don't know what you expected when you followed the Prince to Andalasia... but of all things, you didn't expect to fall for him and his kingdom so quickly.

Rating: SFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 21st.

The Medallion Calls by: @pajaritojin

Movie: Pirates of the Caribbean

Starring: Captain Seokjin and Governor Reader

Summary: Upon Seokjin’s wash up to shore after months of being lost in a wrecked boat, the town is attacked by a crew of pirates. Kidnapping Governor Y/L/N Y/N, the crew of pirates flee — leaving her friends and Seokjin to rescue her and keep the town at peace.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 29th.

The End of the Fucking World (or: the Alpacalypse) by: @hauntedlilies

Movie: The Emperor's New Groove

Starring: Seokjin and Reader

Summary: Over the past few years your life has been slowly falling apart. You didn't think it could get any worse — until your father comes home with a talking llama alpaca who claims he's the emperor of a lost civilization. But is he really who he says he is?

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 22nd.

The Ghosts of Daegu Town by: @cremeandsuga

Movie: Monsters Inc.

Starring: Ghost Yoongi and Phasmophobic Reader

Summary: For the last 18 years, Min Yoongi had been appointed Resident Ghoul for his Scare Ratings. He managed to scare the life out of everyone…except when your door came down before him.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 24th.

Second Star to the Right by: @thatlongspringnight

Movie: Peter Pan

Starring: Yoongi and Reader

Summary: Min Yoongi never believed in magic, but all it takes is a found shadow and one very frustrating girl to turn his world upside down. The real question remains: Will he keep that magic in his heart and choose to stay in Neverland, or will he abandon this magical world and the girl he's grown to love?

Rating: Combo

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 3rd.

Basil & Beliefs by: @cremeandsuga

Movie: Ratatouille

Starring: Sous Chef Yoongi and Heir Reader

Summary: When the long lost daughter of Gusteau reappears and gets hired at his restaurant, she is expected to stay quiet and stay out of the spotlight — but her and her server friend Seokjin can’t do anything to stay out of the eyes of the sous chef, Min Yoongi.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 14th.

A Restless Slumber by: @wwilloww

Movie: Sleeping Beauty

Starring: Yoongi and Reader

Summary: When one of you is always asleep, spending quality time together becomes easier to do in dreamworld.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 1st.

Coral Subconscious by: @hermosohoseok

Movie: Finding Nemo

Starring: Mermaid Hoseok and Mermaid Reader

Summary: When Y/L/N Y/N swims past Hoseok’s reef and saves his mother from the teeth of their terrorizing resident barracuda, he can’t help but feel indebted.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 15th.

Cactus by @hesperantha

Movie: Fantasia

Starring: Hoseok and Reader

Summary: Meeting a stranger at the club turns into an adventure. Starring Mickey!Hoseok, featuring Yensid!Namjoon.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 2nd

Bare Necessities by: @hermosohoseok

Movie: Jungle book

Starring: Bear Aspect Hoseok and Adult Mowgli Reader

Summary: After Y/N’s life is threatened by resident Tiger Aspects Yoongi and Taehyung, Y/N is forced to vacate the jungle and leave behind her friends. Along the way, she finds the bear that saved her as a baby.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 27th.

Smutocchio by @jinpanman

Movie: Pinocchio

Starring: Hoseok and Reader

Summary: You didn’t mean to fall for the growing dick man.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 13th.

A little less than 101 Meetings to fall in love: by @thatlongspringnight

Movie: 101 Dalmatians

Starring: Namjoon and Reader

Summary: Kim Namjoon has seen enough of the world to know two thing, dogs always look like their owners, and he's going to be perennially single. A chance meeting at the park changes at least one of those ideas forever.

Rating: Combo

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 10th.

The Aftermath: by @queridonamjoon

Movie: Big Hero 6

Starring: Engineer Namjoon and Friend Version Tadashi Reader

Summary: After Y/N dies in an attempt to save Namjoon, his dreams are nothing more than memories of her and their adventures together — so he builds Y/N prototypes for every scenario, in which he will always be able to save her.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 26th.

One Cube At A Time: by @queridonamjoon

Movie: Wall-E

Starring: Cyborg Namjoon and Cyborg Reader

Summary: Namjoon is the only functioning being left on planet Earth — imagine his surprise when he is made aware of a completely different world just a few galaxies away.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 11th.

Otherworldly Lovin’ by @thatmultifandomhoe

Movie: Flubber

Starring: Alien Taehyung and Human Reader

Summary: Not only did he crash land into you yard, but he also crashed right into your heart...among other places.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 6th.

In The Doghouse: by @mariposatae

Movie: Lady & the Tramp

Starring: Dog Hybrid Taehyung and Dog Hybrid Reader

Summary: After Y/N finds herself in some hot water with Jungkook and her housemates, she must trust from afar as they find a mate for her in a serial monogamist with a knack for knocking up.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 25th.

Bad Stitch 2.0: by @jinpanman

Movie: Lilo and Stitch

Starring: Taehyung and Reader

Summary: You and Taehyung finally get the house to yourselves and you’re not going to let it go to waste.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 5th.

Blood from The Emperor: by @mariposatae

Movie: Mulan

Starring: Solider Taehyung and Solider/Princess Reader.

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N is the only daughter to The Emperor, and when she escapes her luxurious life in the palace to join the military, Kim Taehyung is the one to discover her.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 12th.

Had it Been Another Day by @ggukcangetit

Movie: The Princess and the Frog

Starring: Taehyung and Reader

Summary: When the universe hated you enough to pair you with the most obnoxious guy in your class, for a project that would decide your future but had no such implications for him.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 16th

Fairy Wings: by @ezralia-writes

Movie: Tinkerbell

Starring: Taehyung and Reader

Summary: "You should have never crossed the border," he choked out, "I should've known better to stop this before it even began."

Rating: SFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 30th.

Unholy Lightning: by @sunnydelightjimin

Movie: How to Train Your Dragon

Starring: Lightfury Hybrid Jimin and Nightfury Hybrid Reader

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N was taught to soar in the clearest of skies and attack in the deadliest situations — crazy how she has a tendency to flip those in her mind.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 17th.

Chasing Waves by @magicalcrwn

Movie: The Little Mermaid

Starring: Jimin and Reader

Summary: From a young age, their curiosity grows stronger. For the human princess who has always been interested in the ocean’s secrets, for the merprince who has always been interested in the surface’s life. What would happen once they finally chase the waves to sate their curiosity?

Rating: SFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 18th.

Lava In The Afternoon: by @sunnydelightjimin

Movie: The Incredibles

Starring: Immortal Superhero Jimin and Immortal Villain Reader

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N has terrorized the City of Seoul for generations alongside her friends — and Jimin has been tired of fighting her time and time again.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 28th.

The First Snow: by @carinojungkook

Movie: Bambi

Starring: Rabbit Aspect Jungkook and Deer Aspect Reader

Summary: When the daughter of The Great Prince is presented before the forest on the day of the First Snow, Jungkook finds himself enamored with the doe eyes filled with fire.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 19th.

The Fourth Unforgivable by @ggukcangetit

Movie: The Lion King

Starring: Jungkook and Reader

Summary: Seven years is a long time. Enough to bring about many changes - new laws, dangerous associations, and the return of the one you had forced yourself to forget.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 23rd

Moves Like An Ape, Looks Like a Man by @carinojungkook

Movie: Tarzan

Starring: Tarzan Jungkook, and Animal Researcher Reader,

Summary: When animal researcher best friends Y/L/N Y/N and Kim Namjoon are sent on an expedition to gather information on the gorillas of West Africa, they aren’t expecting anything but — and yet, are met with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 8th.

Abstract Thought: by @milktbaby

Movie: Inside Out

Starring: Emotion OT7 and Student Reader

Summary: When Y/L/N Y/N is leaving her hometown of Busan for university, she is faced with a series of unexpected events that make her realize she’s not where she needs to be.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 31st.

You’re never too old to find yourself wishing upon a star.

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all-about-seggs · 3 years

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Princess Charming -

Rating: ❌ 18+, Explicit ❌

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x female reader

A/n: Just a quick drabble cuz I don't want you guys to get bored and so I can go cry in a corner over my WIP that I'm still having trouble finishing.

White; but not with the same colourlessness as the snow.

His white hair with glowing streaks of silver mixed inbetween seemed to sparkle in the morning light and never before did the waking world seemed such an improvement over your own slumbering state.

As you watch Satoru sleep defencelessly in the saftey of your shared home, the urge to touch him overwhelmed you. From his glossy lustrous lips, to the way he his heavy white eyelashes shimmered with every rise and fall of his chest, even when far apart but more from up close he possessed an unnamed, indescribable allure that held you it's prisoner since the moment you saw him.

Feeling emboldened by the fact that he’s asleep, you move yourself closer to his form which lied elegantly on the bed. Calling it a rarity would be an understatement. To catch Gojo Satoru off-guard was an impossible task that you dreamt of making true but even now when he's off in another world you contemplated your chances of winning.

Sweeping your gaze once again over his face until you're sure his breaths are even you lick your lips to prepare yourself to give him a wake up call that'll make him not want sleep for a long time.

As you straddle his knees you carefully dip your head lower and lower until you're face to face with his clothed member. Pulling the waistband of his sweats down along with his boxers your senses are filled with the sweet scent of his core which only makes you more impatient when you finally take a look as his cock.

His taste was as good as precum can get, mixing with your own saliva it doesn't take long for you to swallow his thickening shaft. The lewd bliss you feel when his tip hits the back of your throat just makes your pussy drip. Wondering about all the ways he would make you cum when he wakes up.

Bobbing your head, your lips go as low as possible from his shaft to the tip and you hollow out your cheeks so as to not leave any part of his cock untouched.

Noting the slight shivers of Satoru's hips you take his balls in one hand and massage then in unison with your licks. You could feel his breathing become rapid, legs twitching and his impatient cock throbbing in your mouth.

Fully aware of his awakened state you deliberately slow down your ministrations, hoping to elicit a reaction from him but in terms of riling him up all you got was a hand on top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

With no rush from his side you continued with teasing his sensitive spots, determined to make him cum.

Desperation soon turned into despair, your despair to be precise when after continuous movements of both your mouth and hand, Satoru's cock showed no signs of reaching its limit.

"It looks like your jaw is about to fall off",a familiar voice laced with underlying mockery fell from his plush lips as he lookd at you, half amused, half turned on.

He was right though, struggling to catch your breath you took his hardened member out of your mouth to question him.

"How long were you awake for?"

"Why? Were you expecting me to cry and moan like a virgin in my sleep?", His taunting hits right on the point and you are soon left squirming under his clear gaze.

"It..... Wouldn't hurt to atleast show if you like it or not" you retored still lacking the energy and breath to add more sass to your reply, giving him a pointed look of dejection.

He laughed softly at your pouting, lashes dipping low, hiding his eyes for a moment before raising them just enough to stare into yours. Putting on a show of relaxing back with both his arms tucked behind his head, Satoru spreads his long legs a bit more.

"Try again, princess"

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #smut #jjk smut #jjk gojo #Jujutsu kaisen x Reader #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo Satoru smut #my writing #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jujutsu kaisen gojo

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thekingdomofelfhame · 3 years

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Jurdan Fanfic: Highschool AU Part 1

Summary: Much to Jude's annoyance and surprise, she and Cardan have been paired for a school project. Cardan's feelings, on the other hand, continue to blossom when he arrives at Jude's apartment only to witness something beyond his comprehension.

Warnings: Mild cursing

This will be an alternative between Cardan and Jude POV just to get a good look at how their feelings develop.

Cardan POV:

She keeps staring at the ring enclosing her finger, her gaze never shifting to the notes scattered on her dressing, her walnut eyes intense with emotion. She kept humming the same tune over and over, her voice as smooth and soft as butter as she traced invisible patterns on her ruby studded ring, its bright red colour magnifying the beauty of her hand.

I had never seen her like this: bursting with emotions. Standing before me was the same girl who lived in impenetrable walls, walls that I had been trying to overcome only to lead us down a path of hatred. She was the girl of steel, no titanium, and yet she melted away like snow in early spring when no one was around.

Her voice echoes in the room which-surprise, surprise- is a mess of pillows and papers. This girl had been haunting my dreams since sophomore year but my foolish imaginations were nothing compared to the beauty that stood before me and when she starts vocalizing, I swear my heart skips a beat.

As she turns to pick up her phone, her eyes find mine and I am robbed of the melodious voice that had filled this room a few seconds ago. I am pretty sure I see her eyes swimming in tears but she immediately blinks them away. She has trained herself well.

I hadn't even realized she was in her bathrobe until she stopped singing and am left with her perfectly masked yet startled cuteness when she becomes aware of her current state.

"Why'd you stop?" I say clearly disappointed, "your voice is beautiful"

"Weren't you supposed to be here at 11 30?", she says completely ignoring what I just said, tightening her robe around her.

"I clearly said I'd be at your place by 11", my eyes skim over her robe and am pleased to see her cheeks flush with colour as I say, "maybe I'll make a habit of coming early"

"How'd you even get in?"

"Your roommate let me in and, oh, she told me to inform you that she will be staying with her boyfriend for a while"

"Wow. She and Van are really speeding things up", there a short pause that feels like eternity before she says, "Okay, now could you go wait in the lounge while I get ready?", she says and something tells me she is not asking. Though I would very much prefer to stay, I obey her orders for she is The Queen of my heart.

Jude POV:

I walk out of the room, no longer dripping, and am utterly surprised to find Cardan lounging on the white sofa, one of his legs draped over the arm rest. He looks...comfy.

I think about the way he was looking at me in awe when I found him leaning against my door, his dark black eyes peering into mine. I had never seen him so captivated. How long had he been standing there?

Your voice is beautiful...

His words ring in my ears and I can't help the faint pink rising on my neck. Cardan Greenbriar had complimented me; that was a first. I was surprised he didn't make fun of me just like he has been since the day I set foot into school. He didn't mock me as he usually would, seeing my emotional outburst. This was Cardan Greenbriar, the most spoiled rich kid who never gave a fuck about anyone.

I had never once let anyone past my defenses, not even my family, foster or not. No one knew about this small world of mine and I liked to keep it that way. That is, until today when I saw a pair of iridescent coal black eyes bewitching me into wanting to tell him everything about this tiny world I had created where I would doze off to whenever I wished. That was when reality hit me and I was reminded of why I had lived in an armour for so long, why I had never let anyone get close to me.

I snap out of my thoughts when Cardan interrupts, "Like what you see, huh?". I scoff and I didn't realize I had been staring at him as he further added, "Should we get on with the project or are you gonna stand there all day, thinking about me?"

"Asshole. You wish", I snap right back at him and he lets out a soft laugh as I go through his notes.

We had agreed on double-checking each other's notes before we started the project, and by the looks of it, we had a lot of work to do. Surprisingly, Cardan's notes were not only correct and authentic, they were thorough and much more organized than mine. He had even used fancy words like serendipity- I mean what does that even mean?

"Jude, I think some of your notes are missing", he says raising his black brows and a book with torn pages.

"Oh, yeah. The torn notes are in a green file right over there", I gesture to the stack of books behind him as he leans over to find it only to frustrate me further when he says, "Uh, Jude. There is no file here".

"It should be there. It cannot go anywhere", I stand up and walk towards the mountain of books.

That was when I realized my foot is asleep and I stumble over a book, covering my face with my hands, ready for impact. Only I don't hit the ground; instead I feel arms slide around my waist and when I remove my hands from my face, the first thing I see are Cardan's eyes partially covered by his black locks.

I almost get lost in the moment. The world stops when he runs his hand through his hair as if he is nervous and he stares back at me. That is, until I remember who he is.

Ughhh....

"Looks like you're falling for me, Jude", he teases.

I abruptly push him off of me and start looking for the notes. Despite my foot still being asleep, I try to walk as if nothing happened but the bastard still notices.

"Here. Let me help you", he reaches for my hand but I stop him with a gesture and he does.

Looks like my defiance all these years really did have an effect on him.

"If you want to help, start by looking for a green file. It is unlabeled, no fancy decorations what so ever"

"What else to expect from the boring Jude Duarte"

"Well, at least I am not like one of those stupid girls who are so easily charmed by you"

"Did you just say I am charming?"

"Fuck off"

"Okay, okay", he raises his arms in defeat and I go to my room to look for the file. My eyes shift to the scattered notes over my bed and my dressing and my carpet.

Shit.

This is going to take longer than I thought.

Cardan POV

As I search through her notes, my thoughts keep drifting to the moment I had her in my arms, her body fitting right into my hands. I battled with the urge to get lost in her deep brown eyes or to drop a kiss on her cute nose.

No, no, no. Stop.

Wine. I needed wine. I needed wine right now.

Jude hated me and I should hate her. She was the one person who had refused to let me get my way and would continue to do so. She could never want someone like me, let alone love. This was just a project and as soon as it would finish, we would go our separate ways.

And yet, I cannot help but think about her all the time.

Jude POV

I return to the lounge drenched in sweat, panting and gasping for air. I had been rummaging in my room for the past hour and had finally found that file.

I slam the file onto Cardan's face and he doesn't dare reply when he sees my tired state. I sink into the sofa, one hand covering my eyes the other blindly searching for the glass of water on the front table.

"What happened to you?", Cardan asks as I open my eyes to find him completely shocked but instead of answering him, I gesture towards the file while gulping down my third glass of water.

"Let's continue. I don't want to waste any more time", my voice is dry as I open my laptop to start typing in the outline and he continues to examine my notes.

"God, your handwriting is horrible", his voice is filled with surprise as he brings one of the papers closer to those haunting, dazzling eyes to get a better look but gives in and throws it back onto the table.

"If you can't read it, why don't you make me something to eat instead?", I say robotically while looking at my screen and had not expected him to actually go to the kitchen in search for food.

My eyebrows furrow together as I walk up to him and say, "I was joking! Come on, we gotta get this done"

"I know you were joking and I know we have to this done but I am hungry and if you are not going to ask me then I am going to make myself", he complains as he looks around, opening cabinets and drawers.

"I didn't know you could cook", I say clearly perplexed by his actions.

"There are many things you do not know about me, Duarte", he continues his search and when I have had enough of his noise I say, "Stop! Okay, stop making noise! God, it's like raising a child or something", I grab the spatula from his hands but he takes it back saying, "Well, I am hungry and I can't work when I am hungry and by looking at you, you should be too"

As much as I would hate to admit it, I was hungry and I felt like I hadn't eaten in ages.

"Fine, you cook and I am going to take a break and watch some Netflix", I say right before telling him about where I keep the food and where the utensils are.

"One more question. Should I make sandwiches or hotdogs?"

"Lilliver usually does the cooking so, whatever you want", I turn on the television and continue to watch Shadow and Bone, each episode more intriguing than the last.

I hadn't realized an hour had passed when Cardan came with sandwiches.

The room is suddenly filled with the smell of freshly made sandwiches and that does nothing to satiate my hunger as I reach out for the dish set in front of me but Cardan quickly grabs the dish before I can get my hands on a sandwich.

"Patience is a virtue, dear Jude", Cardan says raising a long slender finger in the air.

"First of all, never and I mean NEVER call me dear", I glare at him as I grab the dish back, careful not to break it, "And you took so long making sandwiches that I got hungry"

I take a bite of the sandwich and if I am being honest, I had never tasted such sandwiches in my life and Cardan must have noticed me and my increasing craving for his delicious sandwiches that only seemed to make my hunger more insatiable when he said, "Either you like them", he gestured towards the half-bitten sandwich and its cheese dripping from the side of my mouth, "or you haven't eaten all day"

"Hmm. Yeah, I think it is the latter", I lie through my teeth with ease as I take a second one into my mouth.

I would never compliment him to his face, especially since I don't want him spreading the story in school.

"Why are you acting like this?", I ask out of nowhere before I can even process what I just said out loud.

"Like what?", he asks dumfounded

"I don't know, you seem a bit more... tolerable, I guess", my voice almost drops to a whisper as I stare at my third sandwich, suddenly looking for something more interesting in a piece of food that would soon be in my mouth.

He doesn't answer but I am able to see his mood shift as his body language completely changes and his muscles become more stiff. His pupils become dilated and he looks every bit as horrifying as he did when he once threw dust into my food after I had punched him.

All of a sudden, I regret what I had said and cursed my stupid mouth for opening itself.

We don't speak to each other for the rest of the night and though I hated Cardan with all that I had, one small part of me felt that there was more to this person, that he was more than just a bully and that I had missed an opportunity to get to know the real him.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! Also, I will now on follow a policy of following back those who follow me, just to spread a bit of kindness!!

Taglist: @wanderingpages @thatrandomfangirlll @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @acourtofhearts @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @aesthetics-11 @angelpaulene @annihliation @anyaskywalker23 @ashlightgrayson @augustintodarkness @awkward-avacado-s @babycardan @beholdyourqueen1 @booklover-sleeplover @booksandothersecrets @booksofthemoon @b00kworm @cabeswater-and-camaros @cardaans @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @cardanslittletail @cardanstrickytail @courtofjurdan @feysand-babies @firestarsandseneschals @fizziefaerie @highladyofthefangirlcourt @highqueenjudeduarte @hizqueen4life @hoegreenbrair @hopefullyanauthor @hurema @iammissstark @im-wintermelody @iminsanenotobsessed @ireallyshouldsleeprn @jessacarstairs @judiecardan @junipersuns@jurdanhell @justtryintolivemybestlife @jyoti96 @katexrenee @katsemkitgostadetog @kevin-day-is-bi @kingandfireheart @kittkatandbooboo @knifewifejude @lady-thea-of-narnia @larrysaturn @leaff-life @lemon-check @life-in-black-lines @lifeminuspickles @livelovereading123 @localgoof @lordoftermites @greenbriarxrose @queenofbunnies13 @fanficreader435 @nightspeckle @thewickedkings @the-cruel-prince-cardan @myqueenjudeduarte @florafey

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squiggledrop · 3 years

Text

Day 20: Sleigh Ride - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist

Ficmas 2020

Listen to my Christmas Playlist!

Summary: Ficmas Day 20

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer started the car, pulling down the visor to shield his eyes from the setting sun before he pulled out of the parking lot of the FBI headquarters. As he drove, he gently placed his hand on your thigh, and you smiled, resting your hand on top of his. You let out a sigh of content and leaned into the headrest. You closed your eyes, the gentle hum of the engine mixed with the soft Christmas music playing through the radio relaxing you.

Noticing you had been in the car for a while, you opened your eyes. You didn’t recognize the surroundings passing you by in the window, and when you brought your eyes to Spencer, he was driving with a soft smile across his lips.

“Spence”, you looked at him confused, “where are we going?”. Spencer glanced over at you with a smirk, and without responding, brought his eyes back to the road. You sat up, turning your body towards him.

“Spencer”, you said, half-serious and half-laughing. “What’s happening? Where are we?”. Spencer glanced back at you, a grin forming across his lips.

“It’s a surprise”, he hummed. You smiled, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. “Just relax”, he laughed, “we’ll be there soon”.

“Should I be scared?”, you joked.

“No”, he giggled, “i-it’s a good surprise. At least I hope so”.

“Okay”, you said warily, letting out a breathy laugh. Your mind swirled with ideas as to what he had planned, but you decided to take his advice and just let yourself be surprised.

About fifteen minutes later, Spencer put on his blinker and turned down a small dirt road lined with trees. Your eyes widened, extremely curious as to where he was taking you.

“You aren’t going to murder me are you?”, you teased. “Because I’ll have you know, I happen to be dating the smartest guy at the FBI, and he’ll find you if you do”. Spencer chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“No, (Y/n)”, he said sarcastically. “I’m just trying to do a nice thing. I promise”. He looked over at you, his tender eyes warming your heart.

“Alright, I’m sorry”, you said, giving Spencer an apologetic smile. Spencer took your hand in his and brought it up to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“It’s okay”, he grinned. “And, anyway, we’re here”. Spencer pulled up to a beautiful old inn, and your eyes widened. It looked like you were in a storybook with how charming the old-fashioned building was, adorned with white string lights that twinkled now that the sun had set. There was a big red barn next to the inn, and you smiled, noticing the wide wrap-around porch on the house.

“Wow”, you whispered. “It’s beautiful, but”, you turned towards him, “why are we here?”.

“Well, I thought we could have a little getaway”, he smiled sheepishly. “I know we both still had some vacation days saved up, a-and I talked to Hotch and he was happy to give us a couple of days off and-”. You cut off Spencer’s rambling, pulling him into a kiss. He melted against your lips, both of you smiling into each other.

“Thank you”, you whispered against his mouth, “this is really sweet”. Spencer smiled, a slight blush rising along his neck at your loving gaze. You leaned back slightly, squeezing Spencer’s hand. “But, um. We don’t have any clothes”, you reminded him.

“Oh, um, no, I-I packed and brought our go bags, along with some, other supplies”, he quirked a smile.

“Supplies?”, you questioned, raising your eyebrow.

“Yeah”, he nodded, with a bashful grin, “supplies”. You laughed, shaking your head at how adorable he was.

“Alright, what next on this mystery getaway?”, you asked with a wide grin on your lips.

“Well, we have an appointment in about”, Spencer glanced down at his watch, “ten minutes, so we can check-in and give them our bags and then head on over.”

“An appointment?”, you smirked. Spencer just nodded in response. “Alright, mystery man, let’s go so we don’t miss our appointment”.

After getting the bags from the trunk, you and Spencer walked hand in hand up the snow-covered driveway to the entrance of the inn. The inside was even more charming than the exterior. There was a golden chandelier above your heads and intricate rugs covered the hardwood floors. A pianist sat in the corner of the room, playing light holiday music, and a huge Christmas tree, covered in sparkling ornaments resided near the roaring fireplace. The air smelled like cinnamon, and you couldn’t help the giddy feeling in your chest.

Spencer had told you to wait by the door as he checked you guys in, claiming to not want to accidentally spoil anything he had planned. You watched as he gave the people at the wooden reception desk your bags, and in return, he was handed what you assumed was your room key. You saw him nod his head in thanks, before turning back towards you. He smiled, reaching out for your hand.

“Where is this appointment?”, you asked with wide eyes.

“Outside”, Spencer hummed, motioning towards the door. You glanced up at him and smiled, albeit still very confused.

“Lead the way mystery man”, you teased. Spencer chuckled and took you outside. He held your hand, leading you towards the barn. When you turned around the side of the inn, you saw a dark green sleigh, drawn by two Clydesdale horses. Your mouth opened at the sight, letting out an inaudible breath. Spencer led you both towards the man standing by the sleigh.

“Reid for two?”, he asked.

“Yes”, Spencer smiled. You turned towards Spencer, not able to tell if your heart was going to burst from love or excitement. He looked down at you with a slight smirk, clearly happy that you were enjoying the surprise thus far.

“Excellent”, the coachman said. “Right this way”, he held out his hand for you, helping you into the sleigh. You climbed up, Spencer following behind you. When you sat down on the plush, velvet seats, the coachman handed you both the thickest blanket you had seen in your life. Spencer thanked him and took it before draping it across your laps. You leaned in close to him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“This is amazing”, you whispered into his chest, still in disbelief that you were currently sat in a horse-drawn sleigh.

“Is it a good surprise?”, Spencer asked as the coachman sat on his seat and the horses started to move.

“The best”, you hummed. Spencer smiled and placed a kiss on your head, pulling you further into him.

“You folks doing alright back there?”, the coachman asked.

“Yes, thank you”, Spencer replied.

“Just let me know if you need anything”, he nodded, leading the sleigh down a path through the woods. Each tree was wrapped in twinkling lights, and Spencer watched as your face lit up under the warm glow it provided. Your mouth was wide open as you smiled, taking in the beautiful scenery. You lifted up the blanket, snuggling further under its warmth. The light trot of the horses being the only sound alongside you and Spencer’s breathing. You and Spencer held onto each other, enjoying the magical feeling that surrounded you both.

“Thank you for this”, you said after a while, breaking the silence. Spencer beamed down at you, his amber eyes reflecting the sparkling lights in the trees.

“Anything to see that smile”, he said, leaning down and connecting your lips. You languidly moved your lips against his, basking in the warmth his breath provided. When you eventually pulled apart, he pecked your lips again, before bringing you back into his side. You let out a deep, content breath, feeling as though it was just you and Spencer, and the rest of the universe was revolving around the two of you.

“So um”, you said, turning so your chin was resting on his shoulder, “when can I find out what these supplies entail?”.

“All in good time”, Spencer giggled, as you bit your lip.

“Well, you have a lot to live up to”, you hummed. “After taking me on a magical sleigh ride through a glimmering forest, I’m expecting big things”, you teased.

“Based on my data, it should exceed expectations”, he giggled. Your smile faltered at his words, and Spencer could feel your gaze as you locked eyes with him.

“Spence”, you said seriously, taking his hand in yours, “This is the best gift ever, seriously, this is the nicest, best surprise ever. You don’t need to do anything else, this is already so much. I was just joking”. Spencer’s face softened at your words, and it took every fiber in him to not just tell you his plans then and there.

“I know”, he smiled. “And I know you’re joking, but I’m not”. He looked deep into your eyes, his love for you almost palpable. “(Y/n), you deserve everything, and I’ll do anything to make sure you get that”. You felt tears well in your eyes as the pure love you held for the man beside you consumed your entire being.

“But, Spence, you don’t have to, you are my everything”. Spencer smiled, cupping your face with his hand and running his thumb over your cheek.

“I know”, he said, looking deep into your eyes, “but I want to”. You placed a tender kiss on Spencer’s lips, feeling his smile against your lips as a stray tear rolled down your cheek. Spencer wiped it away, bringing you back into his chest, excited for the days ahead.

-------------

Note: fun fact, this is based on a true story, and the person who brought me to go on said sleigh ride was not aware that i am extremely allergic to horses, so i spent the whole time sneezing, but it was still really fun and magical.

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resident-of-storybrooke · 3 years

Text

Nothing Good Happens After 2AM (Ch 4)

Rating: M (finally earning that for this chapter)

Words: 2900

Read: ao3, ff.net CH 1 CH 2 CH 3

Summary: Emma took Killian home for the holidays as a fake date. Things seemed to be going well…until it didn’t. What happens when two fools in love didn’t confess their love over the holidays like they planned and have to go back home to reality? This. This is what happened…(A twist on fake dating during the holidays)

AN: Well....shit lol here we finally are! I wish I had a good reason for the year and a half delay. Honestly, I got one not so great review and it shook me a bit and I was already iffy about writing. But thank you to so many incredible souls being so encouraging and supporting me to get back into writing. Thank you to @kmomof4 who read all four chapters and edited them (make sure to check them out). I really hope you enjoy this last part as I’m so happy to finally have this out for you all. A very late and final contribution to @csjanuaryjoy

tagging some of the fam squad (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @carpedzem @nowforruin @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @thesschesthair @teamhook @winterbaby89 @zaharadessert @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd @blowmiakisscolin @peggyswan @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @tiganasummertree @batana54 @pirateprincessofpizza

ALL THE LOVE

Ruby made her way back up to the party, excited to see how the rest of the night would play out after her phone call to Emma. As she made her way back into Killian’s apartment she saw the Nolans as they gestured rather animatedly. Then Ruby rounded the corner and looked in to see who they were yelling at.

Shit.

It was Killian.

And from the looks of it they were letting Killian have it. And he was just standing there taking it.

What the hell did he get into in the last five minutes to warrant this? Ruby was both concerned, but mostly entertained because the sweet sunshine Charmings never yelled. She strolled into the kitchen with a grin, figuring she would enjoy the show. That was until the furious couple saw her - apparently she was their new target.

“Ruby Elizabeth Lucas! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Ruby was confused to say the least. How the hell was she involved in... whatever this was?

“Um...I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Bullshit, Ruby!” She was completely taken back, Mary Margaret never swore. “You just told me that Emma thought Killian was dating Elsa. And last time I checked Killian and Emma have been together for the last three months. So please, explain yourself. Now.”

“I feel like it’s not really my place,” she said, darting her eyes toward Killian, but she could tell no one was buying it. “Listen, Snow White and Prince Charming, your poor sister felt pressured to bring a date home for the holidays. She and Killian decided to go to Ruth’s and tell y’all they were dating so you’d back the hell off. And it worked and everything was fine. Then Elsa showed up and spooked Emma because she thought she lost her chance with him. Because shocker,” she looked fiercely at Killian and had to restrain herself from smacking him upside the head, “they’re both in love with each other and are being absolutely idotic and not telling the other the truth.” She turned back toward the stunned silent Charmings, “And you two are not helping the cause!”

Killian looked up in complete shock, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hair. The Nolans stood gaping at her, obviously not expecting her brutal honesty.

“Listen,” Ruby took a deep breath. “Cut them some slack. You two were acting like Emma was going to turn into some crazy old spinster if she didn’t find a date soon. Also, you two act as though you are a literal fairytale couple.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to live up to your kind of love.”

As David stood in shock, Mary Margaret finally spoke up. “We went too far, didn’t we?” That’s when she turned to Killian. “We’re sorry, Killian. We shouldn’t have ever put you in this situation. We love you, we love Emma, and that wasn’t fair...I hope you can forgive our behavior this evening.”

Just as Killian was about to speak up, the door opened revealing an out of breath Emma Swan.

Emma was confused by the odd looks she was receiving as her welcome. She should be used to their bizarre behavior at this point, but this felt different.

As she made her way over to the group her nerves set back in. She was here to tell Killian the truth. She was going to finally confess her love for her best friend. On his birthday. What could possibly go wrong?

“Right, well, this has been fun. Perhaps we should give these two some alone time.” Ruby elbowed the couple so Emma and Killian could have a moment.

As Emma walked towards Killian she finally took in her surroundings and realized how packed the apartment was. “I wish there were less people here…”

“Why, Swan? I love large parties, they’re so intimate. At small parties-”

“-there isn’t any privacy. I like it when you quote things to me.” Looking at him, she realized how close they were. She wasn’t even aware of her own movement toward him. Then she looked into his blue eyes. She missed them.

She missed him.

They stood there, taking each other in. It’d been weeks since they’d been together, really together. Neither one knew how to start.

“Emma, you came.”

She wished in that moment she had something poetic to respond with, but that wouldn’t be Emma. “That’s what she said.”

The two instantly burst into laughter, the tension dying with every laugh.

“I missed you, Swan.” Killian reached his hand out to tuck a loose strand behind her ear, Emma leaned into his touch.

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry I ran…I wish I had a good excuse, but I don’t. I wanted to tell you so many times how I felt. I was going to tell you. On New Year's Eve. I was finally going to tell you. I had this whole plan. It was a good plan. And then Ruby fucking decided to be Chef Julia Child and give me food posioning. And then...I saw how happy you looked with Elsa and I thought, I thought, I’d lost my chance with you.” Emma finally found the courage to look up when she finished.

Killian’s eyes were full of unshed tears. When Emma opened her mouth to try and say something to break the tension Killian wrapped his arms around her. Emma finally took a breath. A breath she had been holding for weeks. He didn’t hate her.

“Emma, my love, I promise nothing happened with Elsa. She was Liam’s fiance. She’s an old friend and nothing more. You though...you’re so much more than that. I’ve been a coward. I’ve hidden behind our friendship, behind the lie we told your family, and I will not do that any longer. I’ve had three words on the tip of my tongue since the night we met, I swear, and I will not waste another minute without you hearing them.”

Emma extracted herself from his grasp. “Before you do, I have something for you.”

Killian lets out a sigh, “Really? Right now?”

Without another word Emma pulled the small red box from her clutch and handed it to Killian. He looked at her with curious eyes. “It’s your birthday, open the damn thing, Jones.”

“So demanding. Now what do we have here? It's a-”

He stopped.

Mistletoe.

It was the most infuriating object that haunted his dreams - well, besides Emma. That trip to her home, the infernal garnish was everywhere.

There was that kiss.

God, that kiss. He relieved it daily, prayed that it wasn’t the last kiss he’d ever share with Emma. Up until this moment he was convinced that would be the case.

“Well, Swan, this is quite the gift. I don’t know exactly what to say.” He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick they were both well aware of.

“I, um, do you wanna see if it works?” Killian’s eyes shot up to Emma.

“Well, love, seems only right I try it out with you since you were the one that gave me such a generous gift. Shall we...”

Emma cut him off with a bruising kiss, it caught him a little off guard, but it only took a moment for him to catch up. Killian didn’t give a damn that there was a party going on around them. He finally had Emma in his arms. Emma’s hands wandered to the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life. Killian’s hands roamed down her sides before anchoring on her hips, holding her tightly against him. He cursed the fact that Emma was wearing a dress, even if she did look bloody gorgeous in the tight red piece. He couldn’t wait to have that blasted thing on his floor.

They finally broke for air, still clinging to one another, foreheads touching. Killian was ready to dive back in when he looked up and remembered they weren’t alone. Mary Margaret was crying, Ruby was cheering, and David looked slightly annoyed but Killian saw the small smile he was trying but failing to hide.

“Come on, love. I think it’s time we faced the vultures. And I’d like you to meet Elsa, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty good idea, Captain.” Emma reached down and grabbed Killian’s hand before they walked over.

Maybe the trope board wasn't wrong after all.

CSCSCSCSCSCSCSCS

As the party went on, Killian and Emma were inseparable; the two constantly touching the other. At one point, while talking to Mary Margaret and David, Emma laid her head on Killian's shoulder, something she'd done a million times, but this time Killian placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The two were in their own happy bubble. They pretended to be engaged with those around them, but they couldn't ignore but feel the sparks ignited with each touch.

"So, Emma? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for the miscommunication. I feel as though that was my fault." Emma was confused on how Elsa seemed to be privy to their issue, but then she saw Mary Margaret across the room and assumed her friend had filled her in.

"Please, don't be. I was...scared I lost my chance with Killian."

"Oh, honey. I don't think you could ever lose this one." Killian squeezed Emma closer to prove her point.

Turns out Elsa was hilarious and had wonderfully embarrassing stories about Killian. Emma had a feeling the two were going to be good friends after tonight.

The party eventually wound down a little after one, slowly the various couples left. That's when Emma realized she was alone with Killian.

Finally.

Suddenly, Emma felt her nerves grow. They'd declared their love and haven't left the others' side since, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She absentmindedly threw out some empty cups as she tried to plan her next move.

"Love," Killian called for her from the living room, "can you come here?" Emma slowly made her way into the room as Killian stretched out his arms to embrace her.

"Emma, I...I know that tonight has been a lot. Our relationship has always been a lot. And I know the future is uncertain, but there's one thing I want you to be certain of - I will always be by your side. For as long as you'll let me, my love."

She didn't even know a tear had slipped until Killian pulled back to wipe it.

"I haven't always made things easy. I get spooked easily, but I'm tired of running. I want to be with you, Killian. I love you."

"And I you, my beautiful Swan."

The kiss started off slowly, different than the one earlier, but no less passionate. Emma brought her hands around Killian's neck, playing with the nape of his hair. As Killian kissed down her neck, Emma didn't recognize the noises that escaped her mouth.

As their kisses continued, Emma was surprised when Killian's legs hit the couch and he fell down. She hadn’t been aware that they moved. Emma said she was tired of running, and she was ready to show him. So she straddled his legs and hovered over him for just a moment.

They felt like teenagers again, making out on a couch like this. She could feel him harden beneath her, driving her wild. But, it wasn't enough, she needed more. Emma started unbuttoning his shirt, the bastard already had the top three undone. Without a second thought, she began to rake her fingers through the coarse black hair.

"I've been dying to do this since we first met. So soft," she murmured. Killian found a spot behind her ear that made her mewl. Emma brought her lips to his ear, "I've always wondered how it'd feel against my breasts."

With that, Killian pulled back. "My love, are you sure? We can wait. Because once I have you, I'm never going to let you go." Emma nodded slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she could barely see a trace of blue. His pupils were blown.

Before Emma could stand, Killian wrapped his arms around her to carry her to his bedroom. He only ran into the wall twice as Emma was no doubt leaving marks on his neck. Killian gently placed her in the middle of the bed.

"I always swore that if we got here, I would worship every inch of you."

"Killian, please, worship later. I need you now."

"Just a taste. Patience, darling." Killian was beyond thankful at that moment Emma had opted for a dress as he quickly removed her thong.

Before she could speak, he brought his mouth to her sex. "You're already drenched for me. You..fuck...you taste delicious."

Emma couldn't speak, he was overwhelming in every sense of the word. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, not that she needed to guide him; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Killian replaced his mouth with two fingers. "That's it, Emma. You look so beautiful like this. I want you to come for me, darling. Come and then I'll give you what you really want."

His voice was deeper, accent thicker. Emma had a feeling she could finish from his voice alone, but right now, it was his fingers and mouth that were going to do the trick.

Emma lost all control of her limbs as he sent her over the edge. He didn't let up though, he continued slowly licking as she came back down. As her breathing returned to normal, Killian kissed up her body.

"Worship later, Killian,” she moaned again. “Please. I need you. Now."

"So demanding, Swan,” he observed, taking his pants and boxer briefs off. “I think I like this side of you, all in a commanding voice, chills really."

He climbed back on top of her, but instead of responding, Emma hooked her legs around Killian and flipped him, so he laid on his back. He looked up in awe, he had never been so turned on than in this moment.

Emma decided she was tired of waiting, but before she could sink down Killian stopped her. "Give me a moment, let me grab something, I -"

"I'm clean, and I'm on the pill. I...I don't want anything between us."

"Gods, Emma. If you're sure? I'm good too, I haven't been with anyone since...since we met."

Emma dove down to meet his lips as she sank down onto him. Killian swallowed her gasp as she adjusted to his size. Of course, he lived up to every innuendo, and Emma couldn't be happier for that than in this moment.

For first times, they were both surprised with how easy it was to fall into rhythm with the other. There were only a few slightly awkward moments, but that didn't stop them from enjoying this moment. Emma's hips met Killian's with each thrust, quickly driving the other wild.

"So fucking glorious, Emma. You're so tight like this. Ride my cock, such a good girl. I want to feel you come around me this time. You're stunning when you come. That's...fuck... that's it Emma, take what you need, darling."

Before Emma could even respond, Killian decided it was her turn to be flipped on her back. "Now, if I remember correctly, you wanted to know how it feels with me on top."

"That's, ugh, that's not exactly what I said. But I'm not complaining."

Emma felt that familiar sensation growing in her stomach as Killian's pace intensified. "Killian, I'm close. Together, I wanna -"

"Aye, love, together."

Killian felt her tighten around him as she moaned out in ecstasy, pulling him right after her. He gave her a searing kiss as he spilled himself inside of her. Killian fell on top of her, too exhausted to worry about crushing her for a moment.

"Killian? As much as I love how, uh, close we are now, do you think you can move? I can't breathe, and I need to clean up."

"Oi, you're gonna give a man a complex!" Killian slowly rolled off her, in awe of the glow Emma radiated at the moment. Emma couldn't help but giggle as he was being an annoying ass, but mostly he was still...Killian.

They were still them. Except they just had mind-blowing sex.

She could get used to this new addition to their relationship.

"Stay here, love. Let me." Killian was back in a moment and helped clean Emma. When he finished, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just like before.

"What is it, Swan?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy. It's just so surprising."

"Aye, love, me too. But this doesn't change anything. I've loved you for years now, and we'll go at whatever pace we both see fit, but I'm in this for the long haul."

"As am I, Captain."

The two laid in bed, cuddled close, and shared lazy kisses. When Emma looked at the clock, she saw it was nearly three in the morning. A few weeks ago, Emma had thought nothing good happened after two am; it turns out she was wrong.

"Swan? Can you tell me what the bloody hell a trope board is?"

#tori finally finishes a story #nothing good happens after 2am #(formerly) another name #so close and still so far #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #once upon a time #cs fanfics #ruby lucas #david nolan #mary margaret blanchard #elsa #part four #IT'S FINALLY DONE #THANK YOU K

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enha-woodzies · 3 years

Text

➸ CHAPTER 5 | " ILLICIT AFFAIRS "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @serendipitysung @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

“The morning sun has come, and the evening moon is gone. Dearlings, I am elated to apprise you of the events at the debutantes’ ball that occurred as of late, and must I warn you, they're not for the feeble spirits!

The ton is abuzz with the most beefy tale as Northumberland’s jewel among the lovely rocks, Miss Y//n Park, has earned herself a ticket to glory! She danced with the most favored noblemen in the ton and surely, she went home with a hearty grace as she'll most likely expect an abundant roster of suitors in the following days.

Not only was she offered a dance by our dear second-born, Lord Yang, but she also had the privilege and pleasure to be twirled around the court by the most charming, Lord Lee, and the ever coveted nobleman among the ton, Lord Park, the next-in-line Duke of Northumberland!

Where's the beef you might ask? Well, it seems to me that these men are blindfoldedly playing fire with each other.

Not only does Lord Lee has women wrapped easily around his fingers, he has men too! With a sly steal of Miss Y/n’s hand from Lord Yang last night, he certainly left the chap earnestly plotting for a segue of intrusion- and Lord Yang intriguingly delivered!

With the timing in its most opportune, Lord Yang managed to finally dance with the young miss, in private! Ooh! This is new! My senses told me they spent their waltz in the Queen’s library, alone! How in the world did they let this happen to the ton’s jewel unchaperoned? That is something the Daily Tattle is unfortunately unable to unearth, but the mystery will continue to haunt us for long. Do take note: the more you hide in careful secret, the more people will know and hear about it.

What happened next will have you either boggled, or enchanted! The young lord abruptly rushed out the room before the music even ended! Should that be counted as a waltz at all? Before you ask about the enchanting part, Miss Y/n was seen dashing out the room moments later in tears and evident heartache. What do you think happened in the mere minutes of alone time in that large 4-cornered room?

But come now, enchanting stories aren't as they are without a knight in shining armor. In fact, in our young miss’ case, her knight wasn't clad in shining, silver sheath, but in magnificent and elegant, vintage red tailcoat draped over a loose white jabot shirt that’s cleanly tucked into the black, satin knee breeches, finished off with a pair of shiny Hessian boots. With skin as white almost akin to snow, it complemented perfectly with his ravishing fit. The beautiful marquess certainly dressed himself valiantly for the seasonal occasion. With that stunning presence, anyone would surely presume he went to the ball looking like a duke in careful search of a duchess.

Lord Park and Miss Y/n surprisingly became one of the ball’s highlights as they graced the Royal Court with the most heart-stopping, corset-itching, tantalizing waltz. All the while their faces are almost an inch apart from each other, a brooding identity was found hiding in the crowded corner of the hall! Under the bright gleam of the grand chandeliers, our dearest second-born, Lord Yang, was seen eyeing the two with such stare that even the buffy slice of vanilla cake on Lord Sunoo’s plate could almost melt in a blink of an eye!

Among the splendid tales told by yours truly, which tea do you think tastes like sweet ecstasy of oddity and fervor? It is the ton's tradition to portend the lady’s endgame by the person whom she had her last waltz with. From one man to another, should these prophecies dictate Miss Y/n Park’s fate?

Well, don't turn your heads away now! The story's just begun.”

The mid-morning sunrays peek through the large leaves and busty trunks of the hibernating redwood trees lining in disarray. Y/n is just about to plummet into her habitual readings in the Kielder forest and the autumnal breeze is keeping up with her bubbly morning approach, fortunately.

The sounds of the birds chirping and the dead leaves crunching under her shoes creep up through her puff sleeves making her tingle in giddiness and enthusiasm. She deeply inhales the aromatic forest and lets out a giggle in the process. With jumpy leaps and crispy leaves echoing in her every move, the young lady surely knows where she's going in this partly mysterious forest that is most often open only to men and men alone.

Somewhere deep in the evergreen woods, Y/n has built a fortress of her own for whenever she needs to run away from the seldom, mundane life in the manor. At the heart of Northumberland's famous Kielder Forest, lies a small, whimsical looking fort made up of translucent voile casually hanging on a tree branch. One of her lady maids helped her out with the fabric one time and it still stood prettily among the chaotic scenes that go around in the forest today.

She enters her slightly sheer fort and sits down on a pillow that she stole away from the comforts of her bedroom. Flipping the olden pages of the aged Jane Austen book she borrowed from a boy several years back, she heaves a sigh at the sight of a dead Catalpa flower resting on a particular page accompanied by a little, worn out parchment dating back to when she was a tiny ten-year-old lassie. She reads,

Her eyes drifted over the page to where the note and the old flower were situated. The pads of her fingers graze over the certain phrases that were underlined by the book's owner that says, “I cannot make speeches. If l loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.一 You hear nothing but truth from me.一”

She suddenly feels a gush of nostalgia and loneliness upon muttering the words she had ultimately carved in her tongue way back; reciting each word with fervor while she bask herself under the brightly-lit moonlight in their garden. How can children of ten gobble up such emotions at once? So much for a pair of hopeless romantic hearts from the distant years of ten, screaming disagreements and would later huddle on a sprawled out table cloth on the flowery fields, exchanging sentimental poesies and stolen stares.

She relives the brief moments they both shared last night in the Queen’s library, and ponders on how one could be so adjacent to the changing of tides in the sea; promptly, and mostly without warning.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't the feelings I've been trying to avoid.” She whispers to the autumn air. Unfortunately, her pondering truncates as snaps of twigs and crisps off dried leaves echoes in her corner. She hastily crawls out her hand-made canopy and brushes away any pieces of tiny crumpled leaves off her dress.

“What are you doi-”

“Who are you?” She cuts off the startled chap cladded in ragged clothing, apparently embodying that of a mainland farm boy.

“Greetings, your ladyship. I come in peace and I am just here to fetch the chopped woods I’ve laboured a day prior for the farm.” The chap with a very odd accent replies with both hands hanging mid-air. “You are fully aware that you shouldn't be in this place, especially unchaperoned, right?” He continues.

“I am fully aware. But such matters shouldn't concern you.”

“Indeed, my apologies. Furthermore, I will respect your unspoken wishes if it is truly your desire to keep your whereabouts hidden from your townspeople. My lady.”

Y/n relaxes from her bold stance as she found a hint of kindness from the odd stranger. Surprisingly, she extends her hand out to the stranger for a greeting.

“Please. Call me Y/n instead.” The boy looks at her open palm for half a minute before shaking it, looking as equally surprised as the young miss with the sudden gesture.

“You live pretty far from the town, huh?”

“I do. Life's utterly chaotic over on your end?”

“Oh, you don't have the slightest idea.” They both share laughters and inside jokes of their own livelihood that made the young miss settle her shoulders down comfortably.

“I'm Jake Sim. Just Jake Sim. Apparently, my name was originally Jaeyun, but the farm folks got used with Jake and so did I. They said it sounds more Australian.”

“Why would they associate your name with something Australian?” Y/n grew more curious as it was, after all, the first time she's ever been with a person that's not of Northumberland's proper.

“I grew up in Australia.”

“That's curious. How did an Australian boy land among the ragged farms of Europe?”

“It's complicated. The story involves a lot of conspiracies so it's definitely not for your ears. Some other time, maybe?” Y/n smirks at the sudden brazenness from her newly found acquaintance.

“Is this an Australian thing where we shift from acquaintanceship to something more?” She teases.

“Certainly, if you're down to it on your next Kielder visit?”

“For sure. But as for now, I must take my leave. My presence is very much needed for the promenade scheduled for me today.” Y/n half-covers her mouth as if reaching out for a whisper, hissing the last sentence.

“Ah! Rich people things that I could never.” The chap could only roll his eyes at the fancy thought.

“See you soon, Just Jake Sim!”

“Where have you been, princess?” The young miss scoffs at the marquess upon arriving at the town’s park, with a hand immediately sliding through Lord Park’s arm.

“Down with the flirtatious remarks now, aren't we? I went to promenade with myself, Your ever handsome Grace.” Sunghoon smirks at her tiny, playful whispers against his shoulders. They go around and about, traipsing along the cemented pavements as they give away acknowledging nods and polite smiles to whomever wants their brief attention.

The ton is still in amazed shock at the possibility of these two ending up with a ring on a finger. Everyone was subtly betting for Jungwon but as a result of his loss, a much better gent carried his girl off the floor. Something he let himself do, out of cowardice perhaps, or out of pride.

“Remind me the point of all this?” Y/n carefully whispers to Sunghoon.

“To make your man jealous and spit out his genuine sentiments in the process, as well as an advantage for me as we get to keep the marriage-minded mothers of the ton at bay. Now, all we have to do is smile, nod, and appear madly in love with each other if this is to work. Is it clear enough for you?” He jerks a brow at her paired with the most charming smirk he could ever expose.

“Crystal.”

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

#enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #of lords and mischiefs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fics #enhypen series #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #iland daniel

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extemely-thoughtful-person · 3 years

Text

On The Possible Students, Staff, and Ideals of Royal Sword Academy

Before you read this, just know that I don't hate heros. They stand for some good morals at times and they have their moment to shine. What I don't like is the character flaws that don't get resolved towards the end of the film.

I'm was bored, Okay?

With the recent conclusion of chapter 5, we were given a lot of new grounds to to explore and new information to apply and expand for the world building of Twisted Wonderland. The most important thing I believe chapter 5 has done is set the stage for what is to come in the future chapters. With the VDC, we got to take a quick glance at not only the students of RSA, but also it's Head President, Ambrose the 63rd. But, now with the chapters conclusion, what should we expect from the people of RSA in Chapters 6 and 7? Are the students any good? What kind of lessons are taught by the teachers? Is the overall morral of the academy is good or bad?

There are a lot of things we still don't really know about them, so I'm gonna try and figure out more about them through sources of current information and other things that we should be looking at. (Though there is a high chance that everything I'm saying is not going to happen, as everytime I make any kind of prediction, it never happens.😑)

Now, there are two things we need to look at before we actually start guessing what the school is like: the base of inspiration of RSA, and what we know from what we were given in the game.

Starting with the inspiration of RSA. The school is basically the twst base for all Twisted Disney protagonists, like the princes, princesses, heros, and their sidekicks. Basically, if a villain based character attends, or attended NRC, then their protagonist counterpart attends, or attended RSA. Simple. Because these are two rival schools, I have no idea who thought it was a good idea to build two academies that want to rip each other to shreds on the SAME F*CKING ISLAND!!! I feel really sorry for the town that's separating the two schools, because a lot of battles must take place there during the school year.

But back to the point, these RSA students are going to be based on the Disney protagonists, which is actually very important to note. This is where we dive into the films that the characters are based off of.

Disney inspiration

The old Disney films are some of the best pieces of animated art ever to hit the big screen, and I'm positive many of you reading this grew up with these movies. They always make up some part of your childhood. But, unlike you all, I never got to experience all of the Disney magic as a kid. There were only two or three original animated films that I ever got to see: Cinderella (the one I've seen a dozen times), Pinocchio ( the one that gave me nightmares), and Beauty and the Beast (I only ever saw this movie once or twice). There were certain movies from the famous Disney collection I was never allowed to watch, however: Aladdin, the Little Mermaid, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Alice in Wonderland, Hercules, and a lot more. Now that I'm older, and have the resources and time to watch what I've been missing, I'm starting to realize why I was never allowed to watch those movies as a kid.

Now, I'm sure you all thought this way at one point: as a little kid, you've always cheered on the protagonist, you've always said that the good guy is good and the bad guy is bad. You see the situation as black and white. One person stands for something great, while the other wishes to harm others for personal gain. You vote for good, you hate the bad. And in the end, the bad guy gets punished while the protagonist emerges victorious, loved by everyone, and always rewarded with a happily ever after.

However, as you get older, the line between good and bad starts to blur. You begin to realize why the "bad guy" is doing what they're doing, and starting to see that the "good guys" aren't always making the right choices. You start to see there is more to the people involved than them just being good or bad. Ever notice that the protagonists look more or less the same? Their always thin, white, royalty, or heros (not all of them are white, but I'm trying to prove a point.) They always have a charm that makes them stand as protagonists, but when brought together, they look more or less the same. They even have similar personalities to an extent.

The villains on the other hand are much more diverse with design, they have a unique appearance and personality that sets them apart from the "good people". Some are larger, others are taller, a few are very charming and manipulative, while others seem more comedic. They have a wide range of personalities and designs that make them recognizable to the audience. But there is also something else you begin to see as you become older, their motives. Not all of them have the worst intentions in mind. Many of them were wronged for being different. Some even fell from grace by suffering tragic events. Now, I'm not saying everything they do is right, and they still did awful things that merit some kind of punishment, but you start to see why they do what they did. You start to understand them more, and sympathize with them. Not every villain is good, however. There are some cases where the wrong doer gets what they deserve, but there are cases where they didn't deserve what they got.

Flipping to the protagonists, not all of them are great. And, again I'm not saying that to hate on them, but you need to remember, they may be the protagonists, but are they really doing the right thing? There are a bunch of times where the hero is dumb and stupid and replies on others to do everything for them because they're innocent princesses who are good and pure and don't need to do anything because they're perfect. Sounds like a Mary Sue, but sad to say, there are Disney protagonists who fit this description (looking at you Snow White). But not every protagonist is dumb, on the contrary, but their actions are a bit on the selfish side of things. Heroes like Ariel and Hercules made selfish choices for the sake of ✨LOVE✨, but in all honesty, they should've known better. Others hammer on the villains for self enjoyment, and when the villains bite back, they never once considered that the situation was partially their fault. The only thing they can say is " Op, this guy's messed up. Time to beat his @$$!" And then proceeds to kick them all the way to Hades (Sometimes literally in this case). And these characters are supposed to be role models for children! Now the good news is not every protagonist is like this, there are actually a few very good ones who mean well, still have flaws that make them relatable, and are rightfully rewarded.

My favorite example of this is Mulan. She wants fight on behalf of her father, works hard to pass the trials of war, and comes back in the end even though she was left to die. The villains she faced were blood thirsty and wanted to conquer more land and take lives. The Huns die in defeat, while Mulan is called a hero. In this case, the formula for good and bad makes sense and puts the characters in the right positions.

But sadly, there are cases where the villain gets wronged by the good guys, goes bad, and then gets punished because they were bad and wrong, and the "good guys" are always right even if they do something that's questionable. This is what we're focusing on, because 1: we have yet to see Mulan in TWST, and 2: because this case makes up at least a good portion of the movies used in the TWST universe. The movies listed here are in the TWST verse, and are what I consider to be in this category: The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Snow White, and Hercules.

The RSA we know so far

Now basing the interactions we received from the VDC, we have met what I like to call the Snow White Package of students from both schools. On the "hero's" side, we've got Neige, our Snow White, and his seven dwarf companions (I'm not going to name them all, because so far, their names are irrelevant.) On the "Villains" side, we've got Vil Schoenheit, our Evil Queen, Rook Hunt, our huntsman, and Epel Felmier, our adorable poisoned apple.

Now from what we're shown, Neige is a young, talented actor and influencer at the rank of number 1. He's also a bit naive and seems to trust others way to easily. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but this can become a problem. I wrote in a theory about Neige failing the VDC that everything is decided for him, and that he's controlled by the people he agrees to help. There are two things to take away from this if this is true.

Firstly, how he responds to the situation. If he's naive about the whole thing until someone points it out to him, then that would make sense. But it would make even more sense if he is already aware of what's going on around him, but he continues to act nice and pretends that he's not bothered by it, when infact, he is.

This leads to the second point, his unique magic. Though we haven't gotten a formal name or power, I believe that his unique magic is called, "Sing with me" Which gives him the ability to get others to sing and dance along with him when ever he preforms. The base of inspiration for this magic would be Snow White getting the animals to sing along with her, and help her with whatever she's doing, (read: do things for her). As for why, his awareness that he's being controlled subtly plus the fact that it bothers him is given away from the fact that he can subtly manipulate people to sing and dance along with him wether they like it or not. Basically, it would make sense for him to be able to manipulate others as he is manipulated on a daily basis.

The dwarves don't hold any importance right now, but if my theory about Neige's unique magic is true, then that would explain the shaky performance given at the VDC. The dwarves probably didn't rehearse very well, if not at all, so a unique magic that can make someone sing along with someone else regardless of whether or not they heard the song before would explain it.

As for Vil, well, he reminds me of Mega Mind. He always wanted to do something great, but he was always categorized as a player for the Villain role at a young age and was never given the chance to prove himself capable of the hero's role. His unique magic isn't just a reference to the Evil Queen, but also a manifestation of what he doesn't want to become, but was always the roles he was set as in front of the camera: a curse. Something unwanted, an obstacle, a disposable, selfish person who only wants to get in the way of the protagonist. What makes this so sad is that he was never given the chance to be something else, something better. People would always categorize him as the bad guy and never give him the opportunity to something greater. It's no wonder he hates the role so much. He wants to survive till the end instead of constantly being defeated.

What they could be

So, what about the rest of the students of RSA? (Besides Chenya. He's cool. I like him.)

Comparing the depressing and traumatic lives of the NRC students, the RSA students... well, it really depends. I could be wrong about this, but...

They could have two sides to them. One side that shows the world that they are the best, that they are successful and they always win. That their lives are perfect and that anyone who wants to be successful must follow their example.

The other side shows what's really going on on the inside, away from the adoring public. And that...is that their lives aren't perfect at all. They have trauma, or bad experiences that they try to cover up with a facaude that hides their true emotional pain. What other things could come out of this side?

A desire...no, a need to try and make their ideal images a reality. To show the world that they are right and they are perfect. That anyone who doesn't agree with them are wrong. They feel the need to cover up all of their pain, and continue on the path that the world sees them taking, the path that the world believes is the path of betterment. They are desperate to prove that they are perfect and successful in any and everyway. And they work together to support each other, making it easier for them to handle their pain and move on.

NRC doesn't, or didn't have that support. But unlike RSA, they aren't desperate to prove that their way of life is perfect, they're more focused on their individual futures, goals and objectives. They are more independent and creative on their own lives and march to the beat of their own drums. When a fellow student is doing something, and helping them benefits the assistant, then they will help, not for the sake of kindness, reputation or perfection, but for the purpose of getting themselves closer to their goals. This isn't a bad thing, but if you try to bring others down so that you can go up, then that isn't good.

But they don't have the same support system RSA has, meaning that instead of sharing their pain to make it easier, they are forced to bottle it up. And we all know how well that ends up going sooner or later.

But that leaves the question: Why does NRC want to beat RSA in the Magift tournament? Or anything else, really?

There are a few reasons. One, for honor's sake, of course. You'd definitely want to beat the people that won last year... and the year before that... and the year before that...

But this is a better reason for wanting to win besides just petty feuds and honor: personal goals and agendas.

Think about it. If a well assembled and trained team managed to beat a seemingly flawless academy's team that's been victorious for almost a century, then that would put you on a pretty high pedistal. You would be incredibly famous and popular. New opportunities would open up for you and your teammates. You could meet your goals and your dreams a lot faster and easier. And your life would improve greatly.

But, do you know what that means for the losing side?

That they were wrong. That they don't always win. That their lives are flawed. That the path they follow doesn't always guarantee success. That they aren't the best example to follow. RSA and it's reputation would decease considerably if they lost to their rival school, making NRC the better academy, making them the perfect academy. This means only one thing for RSA...

They can't afford to lose. Even if it means using tactics that involve questionable actions.

Like CHEATING.

That's right. I just accused the very popular and professional academy RSA of an act as large as cheating. Why? I must have some pretty solid evidence for them to do such a nefarious act. And I do.

Firstly, the fact that despite the constantly changing students and staff, RSA has won the inter school Magift tournament for 99 years in a row. That's a pretty weird fact. It must mean that either the players are really good, or they staged it with tactics that are against the rules.

Second, think about the next chapter. This theory about cheating would fit in perfectly with the character story arch for Ignihyde. I believe that the next chapter is going to be about fitting in. Belonging somewhere. Idia and Ortho are our protagonists. Both are charecters who like games. I imagine Idia having family issues with his cousins constantly playing games with him and Ortho as kids, but Idia always seems to lose to them because the cousins or family members change the rules of the game so that it turns in their favor. They do this for their own amusement and to make themselves feel like winners while Idia and Ortho are always left out of the fun, and called the losers. The Shroud brothers are cast out, only to discover later that they were playing a game that they could never win because it was always rigged against them. And this makes them mad. Idia vows to go above and beyond to be better than them in every way and to win fairly for once. Besides losing against his relatives, what else do you think he lost? Any chance for friends, his brother's life, maybe more. And he is not about to lose anything else ever again.

He works and studies hard and in the end he ends up winning, but also going a little bit to high at the same time. He maxes out on technically and magical power making him better than his competition, but also putting him in his own class of competition. This makes him feel nervous and unworthy of those who are higher than him, and distant from those beneath him. So he's basically drifting in the space between earth and mars.

If he ends up competing in the tournament, only to discover during, or worse yet, after the tournament that the game was rigged against them again, that they were never going to win anyways again, then the flashbacks would race over him with the speed of a bullet train, and he would snap. Hard.

It would make things worse if Ortho was also there and they both Overblotted together. It would be our first match against two dangerous Overblot victims, and it would be all RSA's fault.

Not only that, but it would send an even more dangerous message to the people than the one RSA sent at the VDC about not needed effort to accomplish your dreams. It would be: In order to succeed, do whatever it takes to win. Remember Kronk's New Groove? Where the little kid cheats so that their team can win that competition? Yeah. We would see the same thing happening here. This is a very dangerous way of thinking because that means that if you're crafty enough, then you can win anything and get whatever you want. Not only that you don't have to work hard, but you can take the easiest way and cheat your way to the top.

And how would that sit with the parents of the mages attending RSA? The school teaching their students, their children, that cheating is the only real way to win? That lying and stealing from those below you is the only way to succeed in life?

"But wouldn't NRC be the most likely school to pull a cheat move in the tournament? Heros don't cheat."

...(*pulls the wallpaper back and peeps a concerned face through*) ..."ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?!"

Because last I recall, I've seen numerous cases where the hero manages to outsmart the bad guy, pull out a trump card to cheat the system and do whatever the heck they want, and get away from the consequences of their actions because they are protagonists who are ment to win from the start. I can think of an example for all three of these, and all examples are from the movies twisted into twisted wonderland.

Aladdin outsmarted Jafar and Jafar turned into a genie and got trapped in a lamp for the rest of time. Alice angered the Queen of Hearts, but managed to escape the consequences of her actions. (Who was right or wrong in these scenarios isn't the point. What they did is.) And Hercules pulled the "I'm a god" trump card out of his back pocket at the last possible second to throw Hades off and get away with Megera's ghost. (This last scenario about Hades losing against a trump card and losing his temper afterwards is a great example of what could happen at the Magift tournament.)

And HOLY COW!!! I thought Crowley was the one who needed an interview about questionable morals, because if RSA was caught cheating against their rivals, who are completely oblivious to the fact that they were being played this entire time for a century, then it would make the students of NRC look like saints compared to their competition.

So wouldn't cheating be a terrible idea? If they got caught the consequences would be dire. But they've been getting away with it for almost a century now.

It's a risk they're willing to take to protect the reputation of their perfect academy.

But does this look perfect to you?

Thanks for reading!!! I stayed up really late to get most of this down sacrificing valuable sleep! Have a great day!!!☺️☺️☺️☺️

Eh... sleep is for the weak, anyways...zzzz.

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ushidoux · 4 years

Text

Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Oikawa x Reader

Summary: You may have fallen for Oikawa on the first date. (~1.1k words)

Warnings: sfw but with suggestion of sex, gender neutral reader, fluff

A/N: I was in my u wu feelings and was listening to a Christmas playlist so here lmfao

Song: Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Idina Menzel & Michael Bublé

----

I really can't stay

Baby, it's cold outside

I've got to go away

Baby, it's cold outside

This evening has been

Been hoping that you'd drop in

So very nice

I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice.

Your fingers always froze in the winter, right side worse than left, but this evening the chill was tempered by the warmth of Oikawa’s hand holding yours.

Dinner had been surprisingly nice. You had been wary about Oikawa’s intentions from the very beginning, wondering why a notorious playboy would be interested in someone like you over so many others that were either more stunning, more entertaining or at the very least, more receptive than you, but as the date progressed you had found yourself opening up to him.

You wondered if you could account the quickened pace of your heart and the acute awareness of the blood circulating through your arms and legs to the turns you had made around the ice skating rink together, but you knew this excitement was the fact that you were still beside him, wondering whether or not to part.

The two of you stood together in a pregnant silence, waiting for the cab that would take you back to your university’s dorms, while he returned instead to his off-campus apartment. It was excessively apparent from the lack of words between you two despite the animated conversation and laughter just minutes earlier that neither of you wanted to part ways for the night.

But who would speak first? The wolf who obviously just wanted to get you into bed? Or would you offer up your own body as a platter?

You glanced up at Oikawa for a moment to find that his brown eyes had already been softly resting on you.

“D-do you want to come over?” The two of you whispered to each other in unison.

The neighbors might think

Baby, it's bad out there

Say, was that a wink?

No cabs to be had out there

I wish I knew how

Your eyes are like starlight now

To break this spell

“You want to come over?”

Oikawa’s characteristic half-smirk settled on his face, and reflexively you let go of his hand, embarrassed that you had shown evidence of falling for his charm. Intimidated by the mischief you could read in his expression, you backtracked.

“Actually, it’s a bad idea,” you replied quickly, now clicking open your phone again to check the time. “I have a final in a couple of days and this was already too much of a break.”

“What’s a couple more hours?” Oikawa said now, leaning in to you. He checked his own phone to check the status of your ride. “I don’t mind canceling - your ride won’t be here for another ten minutes anyway so it’s not too out of his way.”

You pursed your lips, hesitantly, and he added:

“Please.”

I ought to get home for dinner

Mind if I move in closer?

So it's time for me to cast you aside

What's the sense in hurting my pride?

“I can’t, my roommates are waiting for me to study,” you insisted, the warmth now settling on your cheeks as Oikawa pivoted from your side so that he was standing in front of you.

You expected this - of course he had a lot of practice with sudden, purposeful movements like this - but it still startled you when he held both of your hands, urging you to look up at him.

Despite the fact that you had resisted his attention up until today, you couldn’t deny that in the cold, when backlit by scintillating city lights and when looking at you with a measured but obvious affection, he was almost dazzling.

“___, you had fun today, didn’t you? Let’s not end it here for tonight.”

You're very pushy, you know

I'd like to think of it as opportunistic

“I won’t sleep with you,” was the first thing you asserted the moment you arrived at his apartment. Oikawa paused for a moment, his hand pausing as he turned the doorknob and he looked at you. For a split second, he looked as though he had been hit, but another smile spread across his face.

“Am I really that type of man to you, ____?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly. He paused again as he opened the door and let it swing open.

“___, I promise I only have the utmost respect for you.”

I simply must go

Baby, it's cold outside

So thanks for the show

But, baby, it's cold outside

The welcome has been

How lucky that you dropped in

So nice and warm

Outside was a flurry of powdery snow, accented by the wintry whistle of the January wind, but inside you were warm and cozy in Oikawa’s arms. His lips tasted of hot chocolate and espresso, reminiscent of the eyes that beheld you with enchantment, and you continued to drink deeply of him with soft kisses. You weren’t sure when your intimacy began but you knew in your heart of hearts that you had made the first move.

Could you blame yourself?

The two of you indulged in each other moments, and moments more, but as hands began to travel south and breaths got heavier and longer and drawn out, you knew things were getting carried away.

Yet before you could reel yourself back, Oikawa pulled back from you first, scrambling off the couch.

“I’ll take you home.”

His voice was a soft mumble, and you could still see lingering desire in his eyes, but he readjusted his clothing and went to the door to get your coat, leaving your heart full and wanting.

“Tooru,” you uttered as you rose slowly from the couch to watch him.

He smiled, as he brought your coat over and an extra scarf, not unlike the one he wore himself during your date. Wrapping the article around your neck, he smiled, and pecked you softly on the forehead.

“It’s very cold outside, ___. You can return the scarf anytime.”

You’ve really been grand

I thrill when I touch your hand

But don’t you see?

How can you do this thing to me?

There’s bound to be talk tomorrow.

Think of my life-long sorrow

At least there will be plenty implied

If you got pneumonia and died.

I want to see you again, if that’s alright with you.

Now home, curled up in your own bed with a mug of hot chocolate that tasted like Oikawa’s kisses, you read his text to you and promptly texted back.

I can’t wait to see you again.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #tooru x reader #oikawa #tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru #mae.writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!#hq x reader #mae.songfic

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bands-we-love-imagines · 2 years

Text

Brian Molko imagine

Version 1, in which Brian hates Christmas.

"You know what? Go have a great time, but don't you believe I'll join." You considered it a good idea to ask Brian what his plans for Christmas were and offered him to spend this time together. Now you shut your mouth, regretting what you had said. You were well aware that the holidays only reminded him of his family, his deeply religious parents who wanted him to become someone he was definitely not.

"I couldn't care less about the 24th, much less the 25th", he grunted. "Why'd you even ask? Don't you usually spend the holidays with your family?" "Well...I..."

Brian was pissed off already, it wouldn't make much sense to explain to him that you wouldn't be able to fly back home this winter due to money problems. To tell the truth, you didn't care that much about Christmas per se, only the idea of spending it all alone in your small apartment seemed like a miserable option.

"Nevermind. Let's not talk about it anymore."

Brian rolled his eyes. "I don't know what you expected, (Y/N)." "Me neither", you said with a sigh. "I love being with you, but I'm not gonna have a jolly, festive time", he added. "I'll probably just...I don't know. I'll be out, trying to find a place where no one even thinks about Christmas."

It broke your heart every time you saw your boyfriend like that. He could be the sweetest, most charming and caring person in the world, but also there was this dark side to him you got to see from time to time. Of course you would have loved to spend a few romantic days with him, enjoying the festive lights and snow falling from the sky, but things were different with Brian. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him you would stay here. He hated Christmas, no matter where he was...or who he was with. You imagined he'd spend his time in some sketchy place, a bar or something like that, and you didn't want to feel responsible for him, although it was a harsh thing to say. If he decided to drown his problems in alcohol, cigarettes, or worse, it was on him. You had to learn the hard way that you couldn't "fix" him - you either took him the way he was...or not. If Brian didn't show you every day how hard he tried to better himself, you would have given up on this relationship already. On a special occasion like Christmas, which was supposed to be a chance to reunite with your family, you couldn't blame him for not even trying to get his shit together though. Christmas was like a reminder of everything he did not have, rubbing it in his face how his own parents were unable to accept him the way he was.

Right now you and your boyfriend stood outside for a while, he needed to have a smoke and you had joined him to touch on the Christmas topic. It was late in the evening already. Brian, his bandmates Stefan and Steve and you were out but you decided to head home now. After having this...unpleasant discussion with your significant other you longed for some alone time.

"You're going home already?", he asked, blinking in surprise. A simple nod was all you gave in response. He tilted his head. "Are you mad at me now?" "No, I just want to be alone a bit", you said truthfully. "Well...give me a kiss before you leave then, if you're not upset with me?", he asked. With a small smile you pecked his lips and turned around to leave but Brian grabbed your arm to pull you closer and into a passionate kiss whilst gently pushing you against the wall behind you. You melted into the kiss, enjoying the way he pressed his body against yours, keeping one knee between your thighs. He let go of your lips and started placing soft kisses on your neck. A quiet moan escaped your mouth.

Only when a group of people went outside to have a smoke, Brian pulled back quickly, still standing close to you, hands on your hips. You wouldn't take your eyes off of each other, breathing heavily. You opened your mouth to ask him what just happened, he breathed: "I...I just had to make sure you don't forget why you love me before you go." "That's...exceptionally unlikely now", you whispered. Brian bit bis bottom lip. "How am I supposed to stay here when I might as well come with you and..." "No", you cut him short. "Don't make me beg", he mouthed. "I really want some time alone", you said, pushing away his hands and taking a few steps towards the sidewalk. "Just because you make me horny doesn't mean I changed my...mind..." You went quiet when your eyes wandered down to his crotch. With a grin on your face you stated: "Seems like you got a little too excited." "Honestly, how could I not?", Brian talked back, a smug smirk on his face.

By now the people standing outside picked up what you were talking about. They did not even try to hide their curiosity as they bluntly stared at you. Reality caught up with you and you felt a bit embarrassed about how you openly made out with your boyfriend...the sexual tenstion slowly subsided with this realization.

Brian seemed to notice the change in mood, not giving a damn about anyone else around for a single second though, he only had eyes for you.

"Well, like I said...I'll go home now", you decided after a moment of silence. Brian did not try and hold you back this time. Now that the excitement was fading, you remembered the unpleasant conversation you've had before and how you would spend Christmas all alone.

"Can I come over later?" Brian asked, uncertainty resonating in his voice. You nodded. "I'll be asleep when you come home."

The eerie glow of a white sky woke you up. It was snowing heavily. Today was December the 24th and you wished for Christmas to be over already. When you rolled to the other side of the bed you were met with a slumbering Brian. You couldn't help but smile at this peaceful sight. You had not even noticed him slipping into bed with you and wondered when he had come in. Although you did not live together you had exchanged each other's keys a few months ago since you could not decide wether you wanted to be at his place or yours.

"You look so beautiful in the cold light of morning", Brian whispered, only a second after opening his eyes. "Hey", you murmured. He yawned and snuggled up to you, you gave him a kiss. The two of you spent the morning in bed, talking about nonrelevant stuff, until Brian asked you how long you could still spend time together before you had to leave. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. "(Y/N)?" You cleared your throat. "I...I don't know." "How so?"

You gnawed on your bottom lip. Although you originally wanted to keep it a secret, you decided it'd be the better and more mature way to tell him what was going on. You haven't done anything wrong after all...well, except for not telling him the truth right away. He would have found out sooner or later anyways and suddenly the idea of lying to him seemed ridiculous.

"I don't have a ticket. I can't fly to my family this Christmas", you confessed. Brian frowned and sat up in bed. "What are you talking about?" "I don't have the money to buy a ticket. I don't know. I just felt...I...I know how you feel about this time of the year and..." You stopped talking. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I didn't want you to feel like you have to spend Christmas with me", you explained, looking away. Brian groaned in annoyance. "So, what was your plan? Sitting here all alone, feeling miserable? Is that why you acted so distant yesterday and left me standing there?" You sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe I didn't want to be around you when you're like...that. You know what I mean." Brian considered for a moment, then his features softened. "Did I actually make you believe I'd rather be miserable in some sketchy bar during the Holidays than to spend them with you?" "Yeah. That was kinda what you said." He scratched the back of his neck. "I thought you wanted to forgo your family reunion for me and I didn't want you to have a bunch of uneventful days instead of a festive and homely feast with the people you love. If you had told me from the start that you're staying here, things would have looked completely different." "But...I didn't want to conceit myself to be the reason you can be happy during Christmas or something. And I didn't want to feel like I was somehow responsible for it either." "You're not. It's not your job to heal me or whatever, (Y/N). That's a far cry from saying that I wouldn't be happy to have you here though. Spending these days with you is a million times better than lingering in some divey place alone, even if I'm not going to celebrate Christmas Eve or whatever." "I thought you wanted to do anything you can to avoid this whole happening. I can't make you forget that", you countered. He laid down nex to you again to clasp you in his arms. "Listen", he whispered, " You actually can make me forget certain things. I'd love to stay with you, as long as we can pretend that it's a day like any other...and maybe hide from the world for a while. Are you willing to give me a chance?" He placed a kiss on your hair. "I mean...that's still better than being all alone, right?"

The more you thought about Brian's idea of spending the next few days in intimate togetherness as if the world didn't exist, the more you liked it. The way he talked to you and his way of looking at things sounded so convincing and reassuring after all...

"You know...let's give your idea a chance", you eventually agreed, earning a loving kiss from your boyfriend. You didn't need any festivities, all you wanted was to feel safe and sound...with whom else if not the person you loved the most in the world?

#Brian molko #brian molko imagine #placebo #placebo imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #(all i can write is fluff. fluffyy fluff)#christmas #xmas #christmas imagines #christmas fanfiction #christmas time #holiday season #christmas 2021 #(I had other ideas in my head and it took so long to get somewhere with this story)

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

Not a Piece of Art

Part 1/4 - A Grudge Like No Other

(Javier Peña x f!reader)

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Summary: You’re tasked with an impossible mission and an even more impossible partner to complete it with.

Authors note: I have never not once seen narcos all I know if based on other fics I’ve read so pls be kind but let me know if anything’s wildly out of character! Also I’m aware forensics wasn’t a solid discipline (especially DNA fingerprinting) but we’re gonna pretend it is. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged (or untagged) 😊

Tw: Mentions of fake parental death, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.1k

Tagged list: @agingerindenial @diogodxlot

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The morning sun radiates down on your shoulders as you lock the door to your apartment complex behind you. Despite the early hour it was already far too hot, but at least the humidity wouldn’t kick in until the afternoon. You’d been working in Colombia for a few months now, but the heat wasn’t something you’d ever get used to. You weren’t complaining, most days you preferred it to the frigid temperatures that painted your childhood. The frost bitten noses, wool socks and thick snow falls coating tree branches seemed all but a distant memory now. You’d settled on Columbia after your long time best friend Connie convinced you to take the universities offer. She had recently made the move down south and was eager to have you there with her.

She’d told you about the job and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had marched down to the university herself and dropped off your resume. She’d flown up to Brown and helped you pack up your life and then unpack it after your arrival to the terraced apartment Connie had picked out for you both to live in. It was a decent size and the balcony was south facing which gave you all day access to the sun. When you weren't working you spent your time out there soaking up the sun and watering the small garden you had been tending to since your arrival. Your days were primarily spent at the university working out the finer details of the forensics lab you were hired to set up. Your PhD in forensic anthropology has left you with various laboratory based skills, including DNA analysis, making you a coveted asset to the campus. Whilst in school you had also completed an art certificate which came in handy when facial reconstructions were needed.

After everything was in place you began running samples, processing unidentified remains by working on dental ID’s and facial reconstructions, as well as testing for drug residue. Despite being run by the University your job wasn’t as research based as you would have hoped with your work often falling under the DEA’s jurisdiction. You weren't involved in their day to day protocols. You mainly just ran the tests, or identified bodies recovered from the crime scene only conversing with them when it was absolutely necessary. Police work wasn’t in your wheelhouse, and it wasn’t a profession you supported or believed in.

Many faces passed through your workspace all demanding your utmost attention claiming their projects to be the most important. One frequent flyer through the lab was Steve Murphy, who Connie had met down in Miami a few years back. His relationship to your friend was the only reason you had bothered to make an effort with him. A friendship was established between the two of you faster than you had expected, due in part to his easy southern charm, but mainly because he and Connie evidently had feelings for eachother. You always found it easier to get along with men who weren't trying to get into your pants which was, unfortunately, a frequent occurrence in the male dominated discipline you worked in. There was only one flaw you could attribute to Steve, his work wife, the other half of the DEAs “dynamic duo”, agent Javier Peña. You’d never been formally introduced to the man, but his reputation preceded him. His was a face that also made frequent appearances in your lab but you'd never spoken more than three words to each other which was, probably for the best. You had what some might deem a confrontational personality and from what you understood Peña was, to put it nicely, an asshole.

He always came in sporting a more casual look and sunglasses which he kept on despite being indoors, a habit that drove you up the wall. He’d tap the file on the glass to get your attention always making you walk the five extra steps to get to him. You didn’t bother to look up when he passed the beige folders to you just grabbed the file from his hands and added it to the pile on your desk. He’d started attaching yellow sticky notes with “put a rush on” scrawled across them in impatient handwriting, as if his case was more important than the remains you were currently working on identifying. Not talking was a strategic move on your part, you’d heard he was quite the charmer when he needed something done, and you weren't going to let him get away with that. You ran this lab, not Javier Peña. Was your dismissal of him warranted? Maybe not, but your gut instinct was usually right and the rumour mill had painted Peña in a very specific manner. You weren't about to let yet another hot headed alpha male who took “too much male energy” to an entirely new level into your life.

Unfortunately, your knack for avoiding him became nearly impossible when you were called out to work on a crime scene. Despite your refusal to work in the field, the remains couldn’t be moved so you had to go to them. The site was just far enough away that a daily commute would have been tedious so you, along with the dynamic duo and your forensic team were booked into a nearby hotel. You weren't sure what you'd done in your past life to piss off the gods but somehow you’d ended up sandwiched between Steve and Peña. Steve wasn’t the issue, apart from the TV which you’d hear blare spanish dubbed reruns of Miami Vice between 4 and 8 PM, he was a quiet, considerate neighbour. Peña, on the other hand, was neither considerate or quiet particularly during the late hours of the night while you were trying to sleep. Sharing a wall with the agent proved to be an issue, so much so that by the third day just looking at him filled you with such intense rage that you'd given yourself lockjaw.

Every night without fail you laid awake as the exaggerated, bordering on ridiculous, moans coming from whoever he'd enticed into bed that night reverberated through your shared wall. You'd tried it all, earplugs, pillows so forcefully wrapped around your head you were essentially smothering yourself, but the sounds still permeated through the plaster and into your head. On the fourth night when you heard the talking start you knew what you had to do. You furiously wriggle free from your sheets and make your way out into the hallway. You walk one door over and inhale deeply before aggressively pounding your fist on the door.

“Hey” you say, through gritted teeth.

“Hey?” a slightly disheveled Steve murmurs eyes squirting into the hallway’s bright lights as his arms cross clumsily over his bare chest.

“Look I hate to ask but can I sleep on your couch, the walls are thin and...”

“And Peña has a thing for loud women '' he finishes for you, shoulders relaxing as he opens the door up for you “surprised you lasted this long, come in i'll grab you some pillows”

“Thanks for letting me sleep here, I think I may have killed him in the field tomorrow if I didn't get at least an hour of sleep. Also this isn’t some tactic to get you to bed so you can stop trying to cover your modesty” You say wiping your eyes, as Steve drops his arms to his side laughing.

“I know, believe me, besides i'm sure you're aware I’m only interested in one person.” So he did have a thing for Connie.

“You should go for it, I think she'd say yes” you offer, even in your sleep deprived state you were still a pretty solid wingwoman.

“You think?” His eyes light up, further cementing your belief that Steve, despite being friends with Peña, was a good guy.

“Thanks” you murmur as he hands you some pillows and a light sheet. It's not long before the AC’s quiet hum draws you into a deep sleep.

The alarm blaring out from Steve’s room pulls you from your dreaming state, groaning as you squeeze a pillow over your head. Why was it that you always felt worse after getting a good night's sleep? You briefly doze off again only waking as the smell of burnt toast convinces your brain that either a fire has started, or you were having a stroke.

“Tryna burn this place down?” you mumble, relaxing back into the couch cushions as you watch Steve scrape the burnt bits off into the garbage before buttering it and taking a bite.

“You think you got enough sleep to not kill my partner this morning?” he asks between mouthfuls.

“No, but I did get enough to realize if I killed him in the field there'd be witnesses” you remark pouring coffee into a cracked mug. “Thank you for letting me sleep here “

“Anytime, though Javi should be the one thanking me considering I basically saved his life. Lucky were leaving today or I’d have to put him into protective custody.”

“And I'll never have to hear him ever again” you say suddenly feeling a bit better. You were glad for Steve being so accommodating to your needs, especially considering he didn't really know you that well. “Well I should go get ready for the day ahead what it's supposed to be out?”

“A balmy 40” Steve offers, as he washes your cup up in the sink.

“Wow I should have packed my snow pants when I moved down here.” you dead pan, the delivery causing Steve to snort as you exit the room. As you exit, Javier opens his door kissing the woman he’d spent the night with one last time watching as she strides off down the hallway. You don’t see him, but he sees you. Specifically, he sees you leaving his partner's room, and in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, he raised his eyebrows. Good for Steve from what he’d heard half the department had been trying to get your attention to no avail. Your head was always buried in paperwork and your ears were always donning headphones blocking out small talk, maybe he should take a page from your book. He didn’t say anything to Steve in the field, but he did watch you interact with one another. Paying specific attention to how you'd made Steve laugh while photographing the murder weapon. Javi watched as you meticulously gathered up a few finger bones that he'd overheard you saying would be used for DNA fingerprinting. He'd tried to talk to you a few times this trip, but the second he'd stepped in your direction he noticed your jaw clench and your body tense up, not wanting to upset you he decided it was best to back off. After getting what you need you packed up your things and headed back home, with no intentions of ever having to interact with Peña for more than 5 minutes ever again.

Several months later

Your lab was now contracted out full time by the DEA which meant you still got to do research but you didn’t have to teach any teenagers which was quite frankly a dream. Unfortunately, the contract meant you'd now be spending time in two male-dominated fields. The boys club offered little that would qualify as genuine friendship. Turns out the ones brave enough to approach you were only nice to you because they wanted to sleep with you. Something you’d found out after overhearing a less than true story about you from one of the guy’s you’d hooked up with. After that you’d stopped sleeping where you work and started looking elsewhere. Your few short lived romances were mainly found in dive bars only going home with people that had been thoroughly vetted (and vaguely threatened) by yourself, Connie and Steve. Who was now a relatively permanent fixture in your life after finally asking Connie out, and you really didn’t mind it. He was good to Connie and he never minded being excluded when you needed a girls' night without him. You also assumed the decrease in misogynistic talk amongst the agents was Steves doing, you made a mental note to thank him later, as you took another swig of the beer you’d been nursing for the past hour.

Steve was still inseparable from Peña and where he went Javi was sure to follow. Your inability to not become enraged by him meant you often found yourself leaving the room as soon as he showed up, subsequently cutting your Connie time in half. Devastating both you and her.

“You know he’s not really as insufferable as he acts” Connie states, Javi was due to show up any minute which meant it was just about time for you to leave.

“ You're not gonna sell me on this” you say, chewing on a stale nacho chip from food you’d ordered hours ago.

“Seriously, he's almost nice sometimes” your pointed look tells her to drop it. Connie was nothing if not resilient and you were constantly amazed by her. You don’t know how she worked as a nurse. You had a hard enough time with the dead, how she also dealt with the living as well was beyond you. She was a quantifiable saint which was probably why she saw the good in Peña.

“Remind me to never make you mad” Steve says.

“No one holds a grudge quite like her” Connie exclaims

“Awe you say the sweetest things about me” you retort after finishing the last of your beer.

“Alright well I’ve got an early morning shift so we should be heading out, tell Javi I say hi” Connie says kissing Steve before the two of you exit the bar.

“Are you really going to keep up this affront against Javi?” Connie asks, interlinking your arms together as you exit the bar.

“Yes, now please and can we stop talking about Peña even thinking about him gets me riled up”

“I thought you said you hated him” she teases causing you to roll your eyes.

“Please don't make me gag” you say pulling a face that causes you both to break into a giggle fit.

“What up her ass? Seriously, am I infectious or something?” Javi asks, slumping down across from Steve who's filling out paperwork at his desk.

“Well considering your history, probability is pretty high” Steve quips back earning him a thwack to the head with a folder you’d dropped on Peña’s desk earlier that morning.

“You know her, what's her deal, why does she hate me?”

“Everyone hates you Javi, it’s a fundamental part of your personality” Steve laughs.

Javier usually wasn’t one to concern himself with how others perceived him, but his work frequently overligned with yours and he figured his life would be made infinitely easier if he could get into your good books. Sure, at first his intrigue in getting to know you was purely physical. He knew looks aren't everything, but for what he wanted, they played a fundamental part. He wasn’t the only person to have noticed you the day you showed up, all eyes were on you as you walked through the DEA embassy for the first time. Your arrival had sparked a competitive energy amongst the men with the agents often vying over who got the honour of dropping off case files to you. A few were apparently even so lucky to have actually spent the night, at least that's what he’d overheard some agents proclaiming loudly, making him doubt their validity.

He’d cracked down on what some would call “locker room talk” when he thought you and Steve were sleeping together, after seeing you leave his room early that one morning. Though if Steve had been spending nights with you he’d never brought it up to Javi, and after he started dating Connie there never seemed a right time to ask about you, so he let it go. He’d gotten more proactive with stopping it once you’d been hired on full time. He’d upped his guard when he’d caught one trying to cop a feel of your ass the day you had been called in on your day off. You’d come in wearing a skirt shorter than what would be considered workplace appropriate gaining you more attention than usual. He noticed the guys hand drop down low, but any contact was stopped when Javi smashed the guys arm back into the wall behind him. In most cases a move like that would have earned him a swift punch to the face but a simple raise of his eyebrows was enough to get the pervert to sit back down.

Despite the scene playing out a few feet from you, you never noticed carrying on about your day as if nothing had happened, headphones on, paperwork in your arms and various scrawlings across your hand, reminders of meetings he knew you'd be late to anyways. He assumes your chronic lateness was a tactic to spend as little time around him as possible. Your hatred for him was palpable, he wondered if it was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. He'd noticed how you would stand in meetings when the only seat available was next to him. It was starting to get to his ego. He wanted to know what he possibly could have done to be treated like the scum of the earth by you. He’d heard from Connie that you didn’t like cops, but you got on fine with Steve. Your lives continued on with minimal interaction until the day you were called into the head of the DEA’s office.

“Office now!” your boss shouts from the door. Fuck. What have you done now?

“Hey you need something?” you ask, lips parted and forehead wrinkled, feeling like a child who’d just been called to the principal's office. Your head snaps to the left when you feel eyes boring into you, eyes belonging to Peña. He shifts around in the chair to escape your violent gaze. You turn to Steve who's gazing up at the ceiling.

“I have the dental results here for the missing persons from the case last week, it’s a match, I know it's late but...”

“It's not that,” he gestures his hand to the chair beside Peña and you sit, placing the documents down on the table. Javi cranes his neck slightly, eyes darting over the various statistics strewn across the page surprised you were able to piece it all together.

“You have an art degree right?”

“I have an art certificate” you correct

“and you paint”

“A bit”

“She was featured in local galleries back in the States” Steve pipes up.

“ Good, we need you to go undercover” you snort before laughing aloud. Your amusement quickly fades when you realize no one else was laughing with you.

“Wait you're serious? You want me... to go undercover? I'm not an agent, I can’t use a gun, I don’t think I've even held one before” you say, tearing through all the excuses you could think of.

“You can shoot a bow and arrow,” Steve pipes up.

“Ya very different instrument Steve, also does Connie tell you everything about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You won’t need a gun anyways, you'll have a trained agent with you at all times.” Your boss reassures.

“No. No way! Im sorry but this… this is beyond the scope of my work and my skill set” you assert, not budging.

“You’ve been to crime scenes before, you’ve been in dangerous scenarios, excavated mass graves, we need you you’re the only one who can help with this”

“Why? You have multiple agents out there who would kill to go undercover, why me?” you push

“ Your background, and relative anonymity. There's been an increase in art dealing amongst the sicarios.”

“So what? Maybe they just really like art.” you offer

“Does anyone really like art” Peña pipes up

“ Yes, the whole world actually” you shoot back, successfully shutting him up.

“We think they're using convincing fakes to smuggle drugs without suspicion” Steve offered, helping to clear up the situation.

“Okay... then hire an art expert to go in and see if the paintings are real”

“We need you to test for residue on the paintings, and to recreate one in time for the next move”

“Okay im good, but I am not good enough to recreate a painting worth thousands of dollars.”

“From what I’ve seen you are,” Steve says further cementing your fate.

“What if I say no?” you ask, exhaling deeply.

“Then you're fired” Javier pipes up, once again causing your head to turn to him.

“And who, pray tell, made you judge, jury and executioner” you spit “last time I check Javier Peña wasn’t the one signing my paychecks”

“No, but I am, and you will do this” Your boss's backing of Peñas statement makes the smirk on his face even more aggravating.

“Fine, but just know I will be personally mentioning you all in my will so everyone knows exactly who got me killed, and I'm gonna want a raise, more vacation time and a new piece of lab equipment if I make it out alive. ”

“Fine” you smile feeling slightly vindicated.

“So what's my story? Who am I to have a million dollar painting in my possession?” you ask, as your boss pulls up a document on his computer.

“You’ll go by Melanie Alverez nee Smith, you were born in London England to parents Maria and Calvin who passed in a car accident four weeks after your nineteenth birthday”

“Shit” you mutter, thinking about your own parents who were very much alive.

“You dropped out of Oxford where you were undertaking a degree in chemistry and moved to New York where you began painting. You were a struggling artist for the first two years but received funding to attend Julliard. After graduation your first major piece was accepted by a local gallery and put up for auction. It sold for 10,000$. The buyer wanted to meet you after seeing your photo. He’d sent thousands of flowers to your gallery before showing up and asking you on a date.

“Must be nice” you murmur

“After a whirlwind romance you eloped and moved down to Columbia where you continue to work as an artist.”

“Alright easy enough, short live romance is a good call that can be used to explain why we don’t know certain information about each other.”

“You'll be staying here” A huge spanish style house appears on the screen. Its prestige was only overshadowed by the mansion looming over it from across the private beach. Must be the target's house, you think.

“It was built by the target, he lives there with his fourth wife. He’s rich, sources claims from drug smuggling, they think he may even have direct links to Escobar

“Like, as in Pablo?” you ask, eyes widening.

“Apparently he’s his art dealer. We need you to go in and see what he knows, if it's not enough then test the paintings in their homes”

“And if they trace?”

“You'll give them the fake implemented with a tracking device so we can target its route.”

“Okay well I'd say easy enough but the threat of being murdered isn’t lost on me. Who's my husband anyways? Obviously he’s rich but did he tragically fall down the stairs and die, did I kill him?” you ask, smiling as Steve laughs.

“What?” you say looking up

“What...” you say as Steve refuses to meet your eyes as he chokes on his laugh.

“Well you haven’t killed him yet but I give it a week.” He responds.

“Who's my husband” you ask, again suddenly afraid and very aware that there were two men in this room, and one was currently laughing at you.

“Your lucky day sweetheart.” Your head turns comically slow to face Javi, the effect only causes Steve to snicker more.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you whisper.

“This mission is anything, but a joke.” your boss interjects “If we can trace the arts movement it brings us one step closer to catching Escobar. I don’t know why there's animosity between you two and frankly I do not care. You two must work together. If you are to succeed you have to be believable. Study up on each others aliases the target hasn’t made it this far without being killed by being stupid. We’ve tried to get to him before with no success, he will be on high alert. You two will have to convince him, and his wife, that you’re sincere.”

#javi x reader #javi x you #javi x y/n #Peña x reader #Peña x you #javier pena x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos fanfic #agent peña x reader #agent Peña x you #not a piece of art #part 1

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haravath0t · 3 years

Text

parol (with filipina!reader)

Warnings: angst (if you squint), immense fluff, and a big word count (sorry)

Summary: The holidays are approaching and reader shares some of her favorite Christmas traditions with Bucky as they decorate, but a little incident happens. To lighten up her spirits, James surprises her on Christmas Eve.

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year! Now with time in my hands I was able to complete this work! I rarely see any Filipina!Readers so I wrote this, as Christmas and my heritage is something I hold close to my heart. It is my first one shot, so bear with me! I hope you all enjoy!

*italics indicate flashbacks!

Today was not your day. You wanted to go home after doing reports and paperwork, surprise Bucky with a nice dinner and pumpkin pie, video call your family that lived in the Philippines to open the gifts you shipped over to them, and call it a day. However, luck was not on your side. Oversleeping, last minute additional reports, agents that were slacking off during training, misplacement of papers, everything you could never dream of happening all in one day happened. You walked over to Bucky, who was leaning against the black car waiting for you as he toyed with the car keys. “Hey, sweetheart, come on why don’t we- you okay?” He asks, concern apparent in his voice as he watches you angrily open the door. “Swell.” Bucky knew better than to push you into talking based on the way you slammed the door and did the better option as he drove you two out of the headquarters to your shared apartment: wait till you talk. “It’s been a bad day,” you sigh in frustration as you look out the window, relaxing when Bucky nods in understanding. “It’ll be alright, sweetheart, talk to me.” And so you did, which led to you both agreeing on having take out for dinner to save yourself from more stress. The two of you were carrying bags filled with take out and lovely desserts as you went into the apartment, leaving you to close the door behind you with your feet. Unfortunately harder than you had intended to. The laughter had died when you heard the sound of something breaking not too far from you both, causing your whole face to drop. The once brightly lit parol, had shattered into pieces, leaving the lights inside to flicker. That did it for you. The tears that have been threatening to fall from your eyes all day have started to drop. “Y/N…” Bucky starts softly, cutting himself off when he sees you quietly and carefully approach the now broken parol, trying to pick the broken pieces up. “Y/N, careful,” Bucky says worriedly, putting his set of bags down to stop you from hurting yourself. “It’s… it’s broken Buck…” you say in disbelief and disappointment, sniffing as you wipe your tears. “Hey. It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. We can work something out-” “It’s my only parol.”

“It’s okay, hey we still can video call-” “My family had opened their presents by now.” Bucky was stumped for you to say the least. He couldn’t even figure out what to say to you over the quiet dinner table when you barely picked up your food and when you immediately retreated to the bedroom, quiet sniffles echoing. He knew that feeling all too well, having something so connected to your identity be taken away in a moment’s notice. He knew one thing though. He wanted to make you feel at home, and he was going to do something about it.

---

“What do you have there, baby doll?” Bucky questions as he watched you open a square shaped box. He smiled when you didn’t respond, a little habit of yours that he has loved knowing that you could not contain your excitement. “A parol!” you squealed, revealing a carefully crafted ring with a star shaped piece in the middle. It was made of red, white, green, and yellow dyed capiz shells. He had never seen anything like it before.

He continues to look at the parol, blush forming on his cheeks in embarrassment when you laughed at his curious gaze. “Parols are pretty much Christmas lanterns back in the Philippines. They normally are shaped as stars and they light up at night! It definitely shows the Filipino Christmas spirit,” you explain to him as your excited eyes meet his. Bucky loved hearing you explain your culture, especially since you have been quite homesick since joining the team and having a place of your own. You did not want your family to know too much of what your job entailed. With that being said, whenever you got a chance to immerse yourself in the culture you grew up with, you always took the chance.

“Want to help me hang it?” You ask, already finding the right spot for it. “Of course doll, let’s go” he replies with a smile, following you to the window to help. Bucky had to admit, the parol looked wonderful. He watched the lantern in satisfaction as it lit up in wonderful patterns, a sight he can’t wait to become accustomed to. “Must really take long to make these,” he remarks as his eyes admire the lantern. “It does… especially these, but they’re all beautiful.” You sigh happily hugging your boyfriend as you watch the parol, twinkling bright as the snow slowly fell gently outside the apartment’s window.

“God I missed this. You wanna know something?” Bucky’s eyes turned away from the lantern and looked at you intently.

“Yeah?”

“This has been around since I was a kid.”

“Really, now?”

“Mhm! I always grew up being surrounded by the culture and my family and I always loved showing it off during the Christmas season. Of course not like in the Philippines though, but we always tried to remember home here. I hope you don’t mind. I asked my parents to bring it over, so I can have a piece of them with me.” The way your face fell in melancholy and embarrassment did not come unnoticed by Bucky. “I don’t mind at all, sweetheart. This is our place, right? Besides, it adds a little flare to our little place doesn’t it?” he questions with that charming smile, making you reciprocate it back in relief before you kiss his cheek.

“It does… thank you.”

---

A knock sounds through the now quiet apartment, making Bucky immediately make his way to the door. “Oh, Mrs. Y/L/N. Thank you for coming.” He says, gently taking your mother’s hand and bringing it up to his forehead just like you taught him. “Ahhh, bless you, bless you,” your mother responds while giggling, making her way into your apartment and sitting down on a couch. Bucky watched in surprise as she took out several simple materials from one of her plastic bags: string, small string lights, bamboo sticks, colored cellophane sheets, rubber bands, and colored tissue paper.

“That looks different from the one she hung up a few days ago.” Bucky commented in surprise, only for your mother to look up at him with raised eyebrows. “You don’t expect me to make one that expensive looking, do you? No! I’ll buy one for you two later. But for now, let me teach you how to do it the traditional way. Come here.” Your mother beckoned, making Bucky smile as he took his seat next to you, excited for what’s next.

“Yan! (There we go) What do you think? Pretty good right?” Your mother smiled, clapping quietly as Bucky smiled proudly at the simple parol he had just finished making. It was a simple one for sure unlike the incredibly detailed one you both hung, but he desperately hoped you would enjoy at least a substitute for the meantime. “Wow..it’s nice… thank you…” he started, only to have your mother wave her hand nonchalantly. “Ayyy… it’s no problem. I’m glad you made the effort to do this for her. Thank you.” She laughed when Bucky’s cheeks started to turn red and pinched them before standing up and taking the rest of her bags to the kitchen. Bucky was then confused, from the additional bags in the kitchen, the urgent sounding phone call in what seemed to be Tagalog, and your mother’s quick paced actions. “Is there a way I can help?” He asks, shyly. Your mother couldn’t help but laugh once again, dragging him into the kitchen with her. “I called her father so we can do this.”

“What are we going to do, exactly?”

“Bring home to her!”

You sighed in relief as the door of your apartment was getting closer and closer. It was luckily a better day, just training and meetings before you were able to go home. You were very much ready to be greeted by your lover’s arms and wind down. However, that wasn’t the case, for when you closed the door, a familiar scent filled the air. “Wait a minute,” you whispered in disbelief, hurrying to the kitchen and saw several foods that you have terribly missed: pork barbecue, chicken afritada, bibingka, and rice cakes. You squealed with joy when your mom and dad yelled surprise, not hesitating to hug the both of them excitedly as joyful tears ran down your cheeks. “I’ve missed you guys! How did you come here?! What?!” you question in awe and denial, which made your parents smile. “You have to thank your boyfriend for that one, anak (child)” your dad replies to a smile. “I called them over. To hopefully cheer you up.” A shy voice says. You turned around in surprise to see Bucky walking shyly to you with his arms behind his back. “That’s not the only surprise he has for you anak! Bucky, show her! Show her!” Your mother beckoned, resulting in yet another confused look from you. Bucky smiled shyly and revealed to you the parol that he had made earlier, causing another gasp to leave your lips and more tears to fall.

“Buck… you made this?” Bucky smiled shyly “I did… I remembered you mentioning that people were able to make them, so I asked your mom to teach me, so we can have this for the meantime. I know it’s not much but-” His words were then cut off as you tightly embraced him, then went up on your tippy toes to shower your boyfriend with thankful kisses. “Oh, it’s more than enough, Buck… thank you. Thank you, so much.” You truly were grateful. You were aware that it may have not been easy for Bucky to call them up, let alone build a parol, and you were amazed beyond belief. The two of you hung the small and simple parol that lit up softly in the dark night, admiring the cute sight as your parents took pictures of the two of you with smiles beaming on their faces. “Come on then, you two, let’s eat!” your dad exclaims, laughter filling the walls of the apartment.

“I can’t believe you,” You whispered to Bucky, holding his hand as you both walked to the table. “Couldn’t let my girl go through her favorite holiday being sad, can’t I? What kind of boyfriend would I be? I figured you could have a piece of home with you for the holidays, so I wanted to give my girl a surprise..” You giggled and nodded and kissed his knuckles, your eyes meeting his wonderful blue ones.

“I love you so much, Buck. Thank you. But my home wouldn’t be complete without you in the picture, couldn’t it?”

“Neither would mine, baby doll.”

You took a final look at the parol and back at Bucky, smiling in content as he led you to the dinner table. You held that parol close to your heart, as it showed the efforts and the simple actions that you two took into making each other happy. The fact that Bucky would do this for you was remarkable to you, and that alone proved to you that it didn’t matter where you were, for James Buchanan Barnes was now always there to proudly remind you of home.

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angelguk · 4 years

Text

→ fine line — a namjoon scenario

member: kim namjoon (rm)

word count: 6.7k

genre: smut + enemies to friends w benefits honestly + everyone is aware if it but them + jimin is annoying + it’s christmas and ppl r horny

warnings: namjoon is big :) / fingering / oral sex (f recieving) / uhh almost fucking in a bathroom / alcohol consumption / dommish namjoon / v long for absolutely no reason

soundtrack: situationship, snoh aalegra

It's an understatement to say that you hate Kim Namjoon. At this point it's not in even hate, it's unadulterated abhorrence. Every time he saunters into a room, the silage of his musky cologne lingering after him, you have to repress the intense need to gag. If you had it your way, you would never be around him. But because he has somehow developed a close relationship with your best-friend Taehyung, he'd gradually wormed his way into your life. It had started slow, causal lunches that he suddenly appeared at, birthday parties he was suddenly invited too and then it was dropping by Taehyung's to find him perched on your friend's floor, fresh from work, reeking of soju and his necktie loosened from its secure knot as if he lived there.

At first, you paid no attention to him, assuming that he would get the hint that you were not interested in being his friend despite his closeness to Taehyung. Yet, for some reason unbeknown to you, the self-proclaimed genius with a law degree under his belt never took the hit. It's as if he enjoyed getting under your skin, relished the irritation that would warm your checks and set your mouth into a hard line whenever he poked at you with his snarky comments and insincere smiles. It made you want to punch him in throat sometimes. But even you didn't know where this animosity spawned from. You couldn't explain it even to Taehyung when he'd tentatively asked why you didn't click with his closest colleague. You'd blanked at the question actually. It was hard to put it into words, the feelings you held against Namjoon. It wasn't like he was outwardly a terrible person. He had a charming nature about him, was easy to approach and an amiable smile that drew people towards him. It didn't help that he was also tall and large and wore fitted shirts the spread tightly over his wide chest. It made your own feel like it's caving in on itself sometimes. But that's not an observation you would like to dissect, not now. Not ever. And especially when Namjoon's sprawled on the living room couch, legs spread and his thick thighs on display, bulging through the taut fabric of his jeans. He's idly scrolling through his phone, face illuminated by the soft amber light filling the room, a hand ruffling the dusty blonde mane on his head.

The sight itself makes you halt under the doorway, the drinks Jimin had handed to you stagnant in your hands. Something lurches dangerously in your gut when he settles further into the chair, tucking a cushion under his arm. He looks snug, something about that makes you blink very hard.

Yes, you hate Kim Namjoon.

"Stop eye-fucking him," Jimin murmurs as he glides past. You splutter violently, eyebrows kissing your hairline when you lock gaze with him. You don't miss the mischievous glint in his brown eyes.

"I wasn't," You hiss in return, feet suddenly working again.

Jimin gives you a look. It says a lot of things but the general gist is that he knows you're lying out of your ass. "Sure," He drawls, dumping the mugs he's carrying onto the coffee table. "I believe that."

You make sure to kick his knee once you've placed down your own mugs, ignoring the perplexed glance Namjoon throws at the both of you.

"Eggnog?" He says instead of inquiring about your odd behaviour. He peers at the cups like you're offering him poison.

"Yes," Jimin retorts, a bright grin on his face when he notices the scowl gracing your face. "Post dinner shenanigans must ensue immediately. Where's everyone else? We've got Christmas games to play."

"Pretty sure Hoseok and Seoyeon are fucking upstairs, Taehyung's somewhere outside with Jeongguk and Iseul and I think Minhee's in the bathroom."

Jimin makes a face at Namjoon's remark about Hoseok. "Right after dinner? Honestly?"

You give him a sharp glance when Namjoon snorts at his snide. He's acting like he hasn't devoured a whole ice sundae before sucking some dude off in a public restroom. Maybe he can read it in your gaze because he elbows you rather roughly. "Go get the rest of the drinks or I'll leave you with him," Jimin mutters, head turned to avoid Namjoon discerning his comment. You roll your eyes but walk away, glad for the brief break from Namjoon before Jimin insists that everyone convene and you have to pretend to tolerate him for the whole night. The alcohol would certainly help but being in a closed space with Namjoon for longer than thirty minutes made you want to bang your head against a wall. It would be nice if you could just wipe him off your life, but he stuck there like an immovable stain, immune to all your efforts to erase his existence.

Regardless, Namjoon must have been right about Hoseok, because he comes down with his face flushed peach, Seoyeon clinging to his side with a dopey grin spread across her pretty lips. They stay glued together for the rest of evening, not even glancing up with Taehyung, Jeongguk and Iseul saunter in, coated in snow and noses red from the bitter cold raging outside. They don't even notice when Minhee finally emerges from the bathroom. It's only when Jimin forces them apart do they acknowledge anyone else's presence. But at that point you're on your second mug of eggnog, dutifully ignoring Namjoon with your body pressed snugly against Jeongguk's.

That's how your evening pans out, belly gradually filling with the endless stream of eggnog Jimin supplies out of the kitchen, a grin steadily creeping onto your lips with every ridiculous game that sprouts from his head. It's undeniable that he's the life of the party, dragging a loud laugh from your mouth when his charade battle against Iseul, Jeongguk and Minhee turns ugly. At some point, Taehyung stumbles into an argument with Namjoon over whether Home Alone or Elf was the superior Christmas movie which has you cracking up despite the constant stream of Namjoon's rumbling voice filling the air. And then Seoyeon forces everyone to start singing Christmas carols, belting loud and completely out of key but too drunk to care. It's a merry moment, where the hostility you hold against Namjoon briefly falls to the back burner of your brain. Even his jokes make you giggle, something that you're not aware of until Jimin gives you a pointed look, his eyebrow cocked. And then you're forced to stifle your laughter whenever he says something remotely funny which is annoying because underneath the pretty haze of your drunkenness everything is funny. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

It's only when your stomach starts swimming dangerously do you take your leave, wobbling towards the bathroom where you perch yourself on the toilet seat. You rest your head between your knees, fingers despairingly clutching the hem of your dress as you contemplate how you got to this point, the bathroom tiles whirling underneath you. You can hear them through the door, Seoyeon's jubilant squeals (probably a result of something Hoseok did) and the loud baritone of Namjoon's seeping through the wood. There's a carol playing that you can't recall the name of, but you hum it until your queasiness subsides. Maybe, if you hadn't stuffed yourself with an obscene amount of bread pudding during dinner you would be feeling fine. It sits heavy in your gut, threatening to spew itself across the pristine bathroom floor. It gradually ebbs away and when you lift your head, the world isn't moving flying fast anymore.

You take a moment to collect yourself, a silly grin on your face when you finally stagger up to the mirror. It's still evident you're drunk, there's no way to hide it but your pat your face anyway attempting to sober up and breathing slowly. It works, albeit to a minuscule degree.

You don't expect to bump into him when you exit the bathroom, balance still uneven. He's exiting the living room, feet drifting in the direction of the bathroom you'd just popped out from. It's the astonishment that makes you stumble, your feet fumbling over themselves when Namjoon's broad chest collides into yours. The small sound that leaves you mouth makes your cheeks hit up, a dangerous uptick in your heartbeat when his wide palms suddenly clamp down on your shoulders, pulling your closer until your pressed flush against him. You regain your balance so fast that you head spins when you shove him away, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You don't expect to find the concern colouring his honey eyes.

"Are you okay?" He murmurs, hands instinctively coming up to steady you once more.

You lean into it without thinking before immediately taking a sharp step back, a tiny laugh tumbling from your lips. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

He eyes the bathroom door behind you. "You were there for a while. You sure you're alright?"

"I'm peachy, Namjoon. Perfectly fine. A little drunk, but fine." Although the fact that he noticed your absence makes your heart clench dangerously in your chest, the look he gives you isn't appreciated in the slightest.

"A little bit drunk? You sure about that?" You read the incredulity in his tone easily enough and the hostility you feel towards him rears it's ugly head immediately.

"Yes," You hiss, trying to slip away but Namjoon's blocking the entrance with his wide shoulders. He stays stagnant, eyes flickering over your face as he attempts to decipher whats ruminating in your head. You're fortunate he's not a mind-reader because you're having a lot of thoughts about the way his navy sweater fits over his chest right now. But for a split second, when he cocks an eyebrow, you think that he's found a way into your thoughts, skin heating up at the mere idea of Namjoon being able to read the things running through your brain right now. But then he opens his mouth, the beginning of a coy smirk tugging at this plump pink lips, and that notion wilts immediately.

"You should learn how to handle your liquor." The comment makes you bristle. Maybe if you just bulldozed him over Namjoon would shut-up and leave you alone.

"And you should learn how to mind your business," You retort, shooting him a hard glare that Namjoon responds to with a sickeningly broad smile.

"I was concerned, can't having you throwing up over everything in the bathroom can we?"

"It's none of your concern if I was, Namjoon. And I'm fully capable of cleaning up my own mess - if I even threw up. You've never even seen me throw up."

He shrugs, irritatingly nonchalant while you bubble with ire. "I've heard stories."

When you find Taehyung and Jeongguk, you'll kill them. Slowly. Painfully slowly.

"Could you just fucking move? I really don't have the energy to entertain you right now." You're on the verge of just roughly pushing him aside, but your palm itches at the prospect of touching his chest, hand involuntarily curling into a fist. Namjoon stays immobile before you, a tiny grin on his lips that you are aching to wipe off.

There's another venomous comment about to tumble from your lips, but the ringing voice of Jimin cuts through it, loud and clear.

"Mistletoe!" At first, you don't get it, staring at his smug face confused. But then you tilt your head, finding the accusing plant dangling above your head. You don't miss the gleeful laugh that bursts from Jeongguk's mouth when he catches Jimin's comment and before long, everyone is looking at the two of you, expectant.

You'd rather shoot yourself in the foot.

But Jimin is relentless, slithering towards you with tumblers of whiskey in his hand, a devious smile gracing his lips. "Come on, you know the rules. Kiss already!"

"Jimin, don't you dare," You seethe. Namjoon doesn't miss that, percipient gaze flickering between the two of you.

"What do you mean?" He's feigning ignorance and you're considering smacking his head. "And what are two waiting for? Kiss!"

Jeongguk jumps in a beat later, immediately followed by rest of your friend group. The chant is accompanied by Taehyung loudly banging the coffee table to the rhythm of the word 'kiss'.

You glance at Namjoon not expecting him to be staring at you so intently.

"So?" He cocks his head.

"No," You firmly retort.

"They aren't going to let us live," He reasons, which is true because your friends are behaving like animals right now over a simple kiss.

"I don't care," You softly murmur.

"Well, okay. But they'd forget about it if we just kissed." You pause, quickly thinking it over as your gaze falters over Jimin and Jeongguk chanting the words like it's their only lifeline. There's no way they would forget it but it would make the rest of the night a lot easier.

"Fine," You mutter. "No tongue. I'll kill you if you use tongue."

"A peck isn't a kiss," Namjoon laughs, already leaning into your space. You hate how your eyes catch on his, locking on his gaze so quick that you reel from it. "But are you sure you didn't throw up?"

"Namjoo-" Your words are swallowed by his mouth, lips swiftly moulding against yours. The sudden touch coaxes a low moan out of your mouth, one that immediately sets your cheeks ablaze. But Namjoon eats it up, a wide palm rising to cup your chin. He tilts your head ever so slightly, following the directive act with a tentative swipe of his tongue against your lips. They part involuntarily, the feeling of Namjoon's mouth softly moving against your own sending a sudden shock straight to your core. He tastes faintly of eggnog, sweet against your lips. Maybe you lean forward, maybe your eyes flutter when his nose bumps against yours. Maybe everything falls away and you can only hear the pounding thump of your heart in your chest as your blood roars violently. It's slow and fast simultaneously. Like time is dragging itself out and running from your fingertips all at once. When his mouth finally parts from yours, the sound in the room comes crashing down on you. Jimin's whooping in the background, his voice barely drowned by the ruckus everyone else is making. But you can't tear your gaze away from Namjoon to throw them a chiding look. You're too entrapped in the warm honey of his eyes to tear yourself away. You can't decipher wants running his head but you're acutely aware of his fingertips still pressed against your chin. And of how violently your lips buzz, warm with the imprint of his mouth.

But then as quickly as it started it's over. Namjoon's suddenly so far away, gaze turned away from you, glancing at Jimin with a bright smile on his face. You despise how your focus zeros in on his pink lips, heartbeat bruising your ribs.

"Jimin," He chides, the baritone of his voice sending a spark through your system. "Take this stupid plant down." There's a gentle chastisement with that comment, but Jimin laughs it off, a sound that makes you finally turn to glance at your friends. Namjoon brushes past you a second later, like you didn't exist. As if his mouth wasn't on yours a moment ago. Maybe your heart sinks to your stomach but that odd feeling of disappointment vanishes when Jimin slings his free arm around your neck, nudging a shot glass into your stationary hands.

"You should thank me," He slyly mumbles into your ear. You focus on the slamming of the bathroom door behind you instead. You snatch up the shot glass a moment that, head full of emotions you're not sure you can work through at the moment. It feels like you've driven into the middle of thick fog, nothing around you clear, not even the odd ache you feel inside your chest.

Jimin gets a sharp elbow to the ribs when he laughs at your perplexed face, your feelings obviously painted on your features. "Shut up," You hiss, trying to escape from his strong grasp. "I can't believe you did that. Take that fucking plant down."

"Nope, I won't," He retorts, securing his grip and you as he tugs you into the living room. The broad grin on his face is plastered on everyone else too, much to your chagrin. It's hard to ignore their side-eyes and sneaky comments. Even after the familiar burn from the shots Jimin keeps handing to you ebb away, you're left folded into yourself in the corner of the couch, gaze hazy. There's too much sitting on your mind that the alcohol fails to wash away. Maybe that's what sets it all in motion, the restlessness you feel. And perhaps, it's also the fact that your mouth is still tingling. You fingers itch to brush them but you can see Taehyung glancing at you from your peripheral vision. Instead they sit pretty on your lap, head too preoccupied to engage with the shenanigans the rest of your friends are participating in. But you're thoughts spiral quickly, and maybe the drinks hit you too hard because you're profoundly aware of Namjoon's missing presence. The fact that he's not emerged from the bathroom has you frowning, and then your thoughts violently spiral.

Why did he kiss? He could have just walked away the moment Jimin started making noise. Why did he do that? He didn't have to do any of it.

You're up on your feet before your brain can convene with your heart. There's the faint sound of Minhee murmuring your name but you're too worked up to listen, moving towards the bathroom with uncharacteristic speed. It's bold to knock on the bathroom door when you know someone' s in there. For all you know Namjoon could be in the middle of taking a shit but you don't care, knuckles rapping sharply against the word.

"Yes?" You don't expect the asperity in his voice, your gaze faltering on his cold one. He's staring at you hard, a slither of his face peeking through the ajar door.

"Oh." The argument you've conjured up in your mind promptly evaporates, tongue sticking onto the roof of your mouth.

"Yes?" Namjoon tries again, his jaw ticking.

"Are you alright in there? You've been in here for a while," You suddenly blurt out. The reiteration rubs him the wrong way, evident by the way his jaw sets, a glint in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"Peachy," He hisses. You flush, recalling your words with your lip caught between your teeth.

"Sorry, I have something to ask you." The admission has the both of you staring at each other in silence, Namjoon clearly trying to read the implication behind those words.

"And it can't wait?" He asks. You shake your head because it truly can't. You won't have the courage to confront him about without the familiar buzz running through your system. It'll probably just sit in the back of your mind, worn from how often you think about that moment.

"Really?" He cocks an eyebrow, but the door opens ever so slightly.

"Really? Are you doing anything in there?"

"Just thinking. You wanna talk in here?"

You nod again, swallowing down the sudden hesitation you feel creeping up your throat. "Yes," It comes out soft. "Let's talk in there."

Namjoon cocks his head, but then the door is pushed open.

The tiles spin underneath your footsteps and your gaze quickly flickers around the bathroom, searching for what you're not sure. The toilet seat is down like Namjoon had been sitting onto it, contemplating similar to how you were earlier. He chooses to perch himself on the bathroom sink though, leaving you to lean against the opposing wall, eyes lingering on the way his thighs spread out for a second too long.

There's a silence in this space, which Namjoon waits for you to fill. All of a sudden the courage you feel evaporates, replaced by a hesitation that makes you bite your lip, shoulders folding in on themselves. But then he coughs, a noise you know is fake by the way he looks at you. He's impatience. It would be better to just say it, rip the question from your throat. You focus on the light above his head as you say it, too nervous to look directly at his waiting gaze.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to shut you up."

You blanch, leaning hard against the tiled wall. It's cold against your burning skin, cutting through the heat of your embarrassment. "What? You kissed me because you wanted to shut me up?"

Namjoon shrugs like this isn't a pivotal moment in your nonexistent relationship. "Yes. Why are you asking?" He shifts on the counter, long legs spreading out.

"Why? You can't be going around kissing people because you just want to!"

He laughs, a low sound that makes your heart do a funny thing in your chest. "I don't go around kissing people. I just kissed you. And I know you don't like me. You keep running your mouth whenever I'm around, I just wanted to make you shut up for once. So I kissed you. Where's the fault in that? Blame Jimin's mistletoe, love. Or stop acting like I can't hear everything you say about me."

"I don't run my mouth about you," You splutter. He cocks an eyebrow in disbelief, hands settling on the thick muscle of his thighs that your eyes don't linger at. "And it's not that I don't like you. I just don't..."

"You don't what? Don't like me? It's alright you can say it, love. I don't care."

The glare you give him is venomous. "Maybe if you weren't such a cocky bastard I would like you. And stop calling me love."

His back straightens at that, eyebrows raised in challenge. "You think I'm cocky? You know you're friends with Kim Taehyung, right?"

"I'm fully aware, thank you for the useless observation, Namjoon," You snap back. "But I can tolerate him, you on the other hand..."

"Me on the other hand what?" Namjoon is suddenly upright, meandering towards you like a lion slinking up its prey. Your back hurts from the press of the tiles through the flimsy fabric of your dress. "Say it, love. Why can't you stand me?"

"Look Namjoon, some people just don't get along. That's us and that's fine. I'm required to like you because Taehyung does," You snap back.

He quirks an eyebrow, suddenly rising from the counter. You despise how broad he is, but when he sets closer your throat clamps up. "You're deflecting the question, you know that. You haven't answered why you don't like me. And for someone who doesn't like me you have a lot of questions about my intentions. Shouldn't you be yelling at me instead? Not asking why I kissed you. Or did you want there to be a reason other than convenience as to why I kissed you? Is that what you wanted?"

Your heart beats to the tempo of fleeing bird wings flapping in the wind. He's too close now, invading your space with a curious look in his brown eyes that have you folding into yourself. To see for you're liking. But Namjoon doesn't seem to care, staring at you like he read through your blatant lies with ease.

"You keep asking why I kissed you, I have a question for you now. Why do you care why I kissed you? Did you want me to kiss you?" Namjoon's broad chest is right against yours. Your heart is thumping hard against your rib-cage, threatening to shatter the bones with the force it's slamming into them with. You can't meet his steady gaze, cheeks burning from the sudden scrupulous examination of your character. It makes your skin spark like you've brushed by the touch of a thousand stars. The sparks are violent running through your body to settle deep inside your core. There's a heat collecting between your thighs, that turns into a full-fledged furnace with Namjoon's fingertips settle on your chin, tilting your head upwards. The remembrance of the action makes your heart swoops to your gut.

"Did you like it when I kissed you?" There's a field full of butterflies occupying your stomach, flapping around until you're heady with there presence.

"I-I." He smiles at your stutter, taking a sure step forward that results in his body pressed flush against yours.

"Answer the question."

"I'd like it if you got out of my space," You retort instead. Which is a blatant lie. You're positively vibrating from his close presence, skin a live-wire that exploded with every minute moment of contact. Namjoon must read through that false statement because he doesn't budge. Perhaps the small shiver that bolts through your system gives it away.

"Do you really want that?" He hums. You shiver again and Namjoon's lips spread into a glittering smile. The fingertips on your jaw are suddenly firm, ticking your head upwards until your eyes are glued on his. "Would you like it if I kissed you again?"

Your breath is caught in your throat, heart-thumping frenetically inside your chest. The air simmers with static, the humming your blood drowning every opposing thought sprouting in your mind. It's the way that he's looking at you that has you leaning forward on instinct. Dark honey eyes that streel you in, capturing you in the warmth of his gaze. You don't know when your eyes flutter closed. That happens naturally, like the feeling of Namjoon's wide palm gently cupping your chin. The moment your noses bump against each-other, mouths searching, your body bursts, like a burning star, suddenly falling in exhaustion. He still tastes like eggnog, a sweat cream coating his mouth. Your lips part fast, eager to feel him on your tongue. The choked groan that slips from your mouth falls into his easily. There's a buzzing on your lips with every bruising graze of his mouth there. Time falls away as it did before, every fibre of your hazy being focusing on the sure press of Namjoon on your mouth. It's both hard and soft at the same time, light brushes of his lips on you followed by firm kisses that leave you reeling, desperately wanting more. You're not sure when you began clutching the front of his sweater but you're clinging onto him now like he's you're the only lifeline, keeping you afloat from drowning in this vast sea of emotion.

When you finally part, breaths melting into each-other, Namjoon's staring at you with those wide brown eyes that make you lean forward again, your nose brushing against his. He sighs softly, involuntarily pressing another kiss on your lips. Your heart swoops int your gut when he does that, the drunken haze you're lost in turning you giddy.

"Happy now?" You murmur out, noting the way Namjoon's gaze flickers to your lips. "Since you've shut me up."

"You're still talking," He responds. His hand falls from your face, suddenly palming the span of your thighs. "What me to shut you up again?"

You nod quickly, attributing your compliance to how drunk you are. Perhaps the warmth emitting from his hands grasping the back of your thighs contributes to that as well, but know is not the time to analyse the reason behind your behaviour.

When he kisses you again, you dissolve, putty in his hands as his mouth works you open. There's deep groan floating from the back of his throat when you trail your hands down his front, fingertips admiring the broad expanse of his chest. It elicits a sharp spark in your gut, one that has your legs automatically falling open so that Namjoon can mould his body against yours. It doesn't take much to notice how hard he is, bulge nudging against your stomach. The sheer size of it has you moaning into his mouth, hands dropping south with need.

But Namjoon halts you, mouth red from your lips when he draws away. His heart thumping underneath your fingertips as he peppers a myriad of kisses along the hollow of your neck. You cave under them, sighing with every warm print of Namjoon's mouth across your blazing skin. The sound must affect him because you can feel him twitch in his pants, a minute motion that drenches your under in moments. And the Namjoon is pulling you from the wall, twisting you around as he backs you up against the skin, your bodies still clinging to each other desperately.

The counter is cold underneath your bare thighs but that's swiftly replaced by his warm palms clasping as your skin. He knocks your legs apart swiftly, lining your burning core with his crotch in a manner that has the both of gasping as your mouths meet once more, tongues eagerly melting into one. There's a quick roll against your hips that leaves you breathless, his cock nudging right against your clothed core. You shouldn't be this wet, but you can feel it leaking through your panties, underwear coated with your arousal as his hips rock into you.

He shifts away, swearing softly under his breath, you follow him, the sudden space between your legs feeling unbearable. There's a glint in his eyes when he picks up on your neediness, the grip on your thighs squeezing hard.

"Patience, love."

You huff cheeks hot from your embarrassment. "I said don't call me-"

He's on his knees so fast that you reel from it, the sudden nudge of his nose right against your core making your words stick in your throat. There's a gruff laugh at your sudden silence floating from his lips that vibrates against your core, your gaze stagnant on the image of his head between your thighs.

"Sorry," he murmurs, breath tickling your skin. There's a tremor echoing through your body that you refuse to acknowledge when he tilts his head upwards, pretty brown eyes coy. "Can I do this?"

"Yes, yes you can." Even if you wanted to deny it there's too strong of an ache in your core for you to refuse Namjoon. Not when he's on his knees for you, placing light kisses along your inner thigh that leave you clutching the counter edge hard, walls clenching on nothing.

He hums, pleased with the urgency lingering in your voice. But in actuality, he wouldn't have to know what do to do if you said now. His dick hurts from how hard it is right now, pressing violently through the fabric of his jeans. That's why he'd be hiding in the bathroom in the first place, attempting to get rid of the tent in his pants that he popped from kissing you. Kissing you, under a damn mistletoe. It's like his body regressed to being a horny hormonal teenager again. Maybe it was because of the dress you're wearing, stupidly short for the cold weather raging outside but you'd justified the choice of your outfit when Jimin had prodded by insisted that the cabin was obliviously warmer. And that had left Namjoon to try and not gawk at the outline of your body whenever you moved in front of him. It slides up your thighs and he knows you hadn't noticed that because you would have yanked it down. Instead, you'd left him to ruminate how nice it would be to leave that dress on the floor where it belonged, while you were under him.

Even though he reason his behaviour by insisting he would like to keep you quiet, that's not true. The sound of your voice does things to him, even when you're complaining about him all the damn time. He's aware of your stance on him, although he's not quite sure where it spurred from. But he couldn't care less. The countless arguments you'd shared made his day sometimes. You're so adamant, even over the slightest things. It would be infuriating if he didn't admire our passion. Or found the way your cheeks flushed when you were angry cute. Sometimes he started them on purpose, just to see your face heat up when he played the devil's advocate. It was fun, teasing you. But sometimes his mind would wander, eyes lingering on your lips and the sharp cut words that flew from them. Would you be so adamant with his cock deep inside your cunt? What sounds would you make if he fucked you senseless into the sheets?

But those had just been fantasies, locked away in the crevices of his mind. But today had been different. Very different.

When he'd kissed you and you'd just folded over, melted against his mouth like you needed him. Wanted him. It'd set off something in his brain. He'd never popped a boner so quick in his life.

Even now, when he swipes a tentative lick across your clothed cunt, it takes him by surprise how your legs shudder around his head, your wetness damp on the fabric.

"Fuck, you're wet." He can't help but comment on it, gaze captured by the sheen coating your thighs.

"Great observation, genius," You retort with an irritated huff. And just like that Namjoon can feel it creeping back, the defiance you carry like a second skin. He likes it, how sharp you can be, but underneath that he knows how compliant you can be too. And he wants to see that side right, wants you squirming underneath him, the only thing falling from your lips his name.

You panties come off so quickly that you're left speechless, stunned when Namjoon doesn't hesitate to part your fold with his tongue, lapping at your wetness like a starved man. It's quick but deliberate, the steady swipes of his tongue along your core, nose pressed against the apex of your cunt as he spreads you apart. It leaves you grasping at his hair, fingernails scraping against his skull as his tongue fucks you open, steadily toying with your dripping hole in a manner that has your thighs seizing up. It's not your fault when he latches his lips around your clit, licking with purpose, that you keen. A sound that has never come out of your mouth, ever. But it fills the bathroom, bouncing off the walls as your brain short-circuits on the feeling of Namjoon unravelling you with his mouth, his wide palms squeezing at your thighs with every jolt of your hips against his mouth

"Namjoon! Fffuck, could you - fuck!" There's too much going on but your brain can only take in the sound of Namjoon lapping at your core. It's obscene, the sound of his mouth on your cunt. There's slick coating your thighs with every press of Namjoon's lips against your folds. You don't know why you're this wet. It's odd, even for you. Yet, there's a pit in your gut when he glances up, mouth shiny with your arousal and his eyes dark.

"Yes?" Another kiss against your cunt, tongue dipping into your eager hole a moment later. You clench desperately around nothing, a sudden heat burning beneath your skin.

"Fingers," You murmur, throat clogged with moans you're holding back. "You can use your fingers."

He smiles against your cunt, drawing away to look at you. "You want my fingers, love? Want your pretty pussy stuffed with something?"

The 'something' catches your attention because you'd loved for him to flip you over and fuck your senseless right now. But that would change things, your entire dynamic would be shattered. Which it already has been, the cracks from this situation running deep. There's no way you can look at Namjoon again without imagining his mouth covered in your wetness. But having him fuck you, that would be something else entirely. So you settle for his fingers, nodding quickly when he grins at you, even though your aching to feel him stretch you out with his dick. You know it would hurt, he felt massive against your core. But it would be nice, to be stuffed full, fucked hard until you could feel him between your legs tomorrow.

That's not to say Namjoon doesn't have large fingers. He's big all over, a bulky broad man with wide hands that settle on the inside of your thigh, fingertips tracing your eager hole slowly.

It takes him by surprise, the little gasp you let out when he finally slides inside, finger covered in your slick. But then his mind registers how tight and warm you are around him, squeezing so desperately that his mind blanks. His dick jumps in his pants, already imagining how good you'd feel around his cock, wet walls clinging onto him desperately. You swear when he adds a second finger a moment later, a slight sting around your entrance that ebbs away. His fingers are bigger than yours. Much bigger. And they fuck you open with a vigour that has you groaning into the heavy air, legs spread for his vantage. When his mouth returns to your clit, licking with intent, you squeal. The noise has him groaning against your cunt, fingers curved inside you as he searches for that spot inside you, tongue lapping up your wetness. He gets want he wants a moment later, your walls clenching around his fingers hard as a shudder travels through your body, thighs trembling around his head.

"Namjoon! There, there, there. Fuck, pleassee!" You can feel it already, the fire in your gut blazing dangerously as his fingers slam into you. He sighs against you, pressing kisses along your thighs that have you shuddering underneath him again. You're close, the coil in your core threatening to snap with every sure press of his fingers inside you.

"I've got you," He murmurs into your skin. "Cum on my fingers, love. I know you want to."

And you do, desperately so, from the way your walls cling onto his fingers. When his tongue returns to your clit, soft little licks that make you jolt against his mouth you nearly do, the heat in your gut spreading fast along every nerve.

But then there's a sharp rapping on the door.

Namjoon doesn't pull away, but his mouth drops from your clit, the fire in your core dying down instantly. His fingers stay lodged in your cunt, covered with your arousal as the both of you stare at the door, mortified.

"Um." It's Taehyung, that little bitch. "Could the both of you keep it down?" And then there's barely stifled laughter filtering through the wood. You recognise Jeongguk's laugh right away, ringing loud among the giggles of your friends. You hate them. The whole lot of them. Drunken idiots.

When you glance at Namjoon you immediately think the moment is dead. He draws away from your cunt, fingers coated in your wetness and his tan cheeks tinged rouge. But then he slips them his mouth as he rises, leaning into your space, his hard bulge pressed into your open thighs. You watch him clean them off, his eyes locked on yours like your friends aren't falling over themselves outside the bathroom door. The heat in your gut sparks again, quick with the way it consumes you.

"You taste good," He hums, pressing his mouth onto yours again. You don't miss the way his dick twitches when you sigh into it, mind erasing the presence of your friends when his tongue slips into your mouth. There's an emptiness inside you that you vehemently despise, an ache to be filled that overwhelms you. If you don't cum on Namjoon's dick you'll be irritated for the rest of the night. You know it.

Perhaps he reads your mind through the kiss because when he draws away his eyes are dark with want.

"We could go upstairs?" He suggests, fingertips grazing the naked skin of your thighs.

"Yeah," You agree, the desperation to fucked driving your resolution. "We could go upstairs. Will you fuck me if we go upstairs?"

He cocks an eyebrow, smile coy. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?" But he's pressing closer into you, eliminating what meagre space was left between your bodies promptly.

"What do you think, genius?"

When he kisses you again, you doubt that you'll even make it upstairs.

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #smutcentralnet #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #rm smut #rm x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #christmas present 1 !!!#happy holiday i love u!

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acnelli · 3 years

Text

Illuminating

I had a lot of fun writing this story for the 2020 HPRomione Discord Secret Santa Exchange. Thank you @remedial-potions for organising this for us. And shout out to @nagemeikenu who beta-read my story at such short notice.

[...] Ron Weasley was, without a doubt, the brightest and strongest light for her and she knew that it was everything she needed. [...]

Also avialable on FFN and AO3.

Please also check out all the other great stories that are and will be added to the AO3 collection.

“But it’s tradition, Hermione!”

“So?”

“So, it means bad luck if we do.”

“Honestly, you can’t believe that, Ron. This is superstition at its best.”

“Better safe than sorry if you ask me.”

“Isn’t it also against tradition to have sex before being married? I don’t remember you putting up a fight against this particular case of tradition-breaking.”

Hermione crossed her arms in front her and looked expectantly at Ron, absolutely unable to keep the smugness out of her face.

She should’ve known better though because Ron never failed to come up with something in response. “Mum will insist for you to sleep in Ginny’s room tonight. I’m sure,” Ron continued, completely ignoring Hermione’s irrefutable offering of logic, “You may have noticed next to nothing slips by her and this certainly isn’t something she’ll choose to ignore.”

Ron met Hermione with an equally smug grin, absolutely positive bringing Molly Weasley into this would settle the argument.

It didn’t.

“What I indeed noticed is the inability of your family to keep their noses out of our life,” Hermione complained, blowing an annoying strand of hair out of her face, “I love your mother, you know it, but I don’t see how it’s any of her business whether or not the two of us share a bed tonight.”

“She’ll make it her business and you know it.”

“Why does she care?”

“Because it’s bad luck!”

Hermione groaned and ran her hand through her hair in frustration, making it even wilder in the process. Despite them bickering over the silliest things, she certainly didn’t expect this particular topic becoming something they would disagree on. Because as of yet, they never disagreed on anything considering their…bedroom activities.

It was the day before Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and despite their recent argument, Hermione felt excited, looking forward to tie the knot with the tall, lanky redhead in front of her. It was the next milestone in their relationship, and sure enough, the most important one as of yet.

Hermione was well aware that nothing would really change after tomorrow; they’d still continue to live in their quarter of Grimmauld Place since Harry insisted for them to not rent a “ridiculously expensive” apartment in London when they could live in the former Order’s Head Quarter for free. Of course, he was right about that, but both Ron and Hermione agreed that at some point in their life they have to find a place of their own.

Yes, nothing changed. But at the same time, everything did. Marrying Ron didn’t make what they had more important or more meaningful. But there was always something strange about calling Ron her boyfriend. From the earliest moments of their relationship, the word ‘boyfriend’ just didn’t feel right because all things considered, especially the years of mutual pining and constant danger, all the things they went through together, made the word just not strong enough when Hermione thought about it.

She couldn’t help the smile appearing on her face when she thought about the night Ron Weasley stopped being her boyfriend and started to become her fiancé.

It had been almost six months ago when they walked home from Dean’s Christmas Party. The night couldn’t have been more perfect for Christmas Eve with the light layer of snow covering everything, illuminated by the bright light of the full moon. Almost every street light and every window they passed on their way back to Grimmauld Place were decorated with Christmas lights and from somewhere far away they heard a man singing, very loudly and very off-key.

“Reckon that’s one of Dean’s party guests?” Ron laughed as they walked hand in hand through a little park.

Hermione chuckled, thinking about all the booze available at Dean’s. “The only one still sober enough to stand, let alone sing, was Harry. And we know that’s not his singing voice.”

“That’s true. Harry sings much worse than this guy.”

“Definitely,” Hermione said, chuckling at the memory of Harry singing a lullaby to his Godson, “I think he scarred Teddy for life.”

“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star will forever be a trigger for that poor child.”

Hermione barked out a laugh and took a quick look at her watch.

“Oh, it’s already past midnight, Ron,” she said and looked up at him, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Ron stopped walking and pulled Hermione against him, kissing her cold nose. “You know,” he said as he clapped his hand against his jean pocket, “I actually have that present of yours right here with me.”

“And…that present is inside your pants and happy to see me or…?”

Ron barked out that deep laugh she loved so much and she loved it even more when she was the one responsible for it. He leaned down to softly kiss her, leaving Hermione with the taste of eggnog and cinnamon on her lips.

Stepping back a little, Ron pulled out a book of his pocket, clearly too big to fit in there. Since Ron hated carrying around bags the undetectable extension charm became one of Ron’s favourite uses of magic. The book had a thick leather cover and in Ron’s messy handwriting the words ‘Our Adventures’ were dancing up and down the front.

Hermione took the diary-sized book from Ron and opened it to the first page.

‘The Beginning’ it said at the top and it showed a photograph of them and Harry in first year. She couldn’t help but smile back at the three children, especially her past self with wild bushy hair and flushed cheeks and a huge toothy grin. Little Hermione was so happy to finally have friends that it made her forget all about her large front teeth she usually used to avoid showing in pictures.

As she turned the pages, Hermione travelled back in time as she looked at all the moving pictures that showed their shared adventures. From their school years over their joint trips all around the world to birthdays, weddings and family gatherings, it was all there. Even the picture her Dad had made of them when Ron and Hermione brought them back from Australia was in there, positively unmoving, but showing a very tanned Hermione and a Ron with the worst sunburn of his life.

And when she turned the last page there wasn’t another picture of them. The words written there sent a jolt right through her heart, making it beat faster. And when she looked up, the picture in front of her matched the question she just read.

Ron knelt in front her with a small, golden ring in hand and Hermione found the same emotions in his eyes that threatened to fill her heart to bursting and that only he could give her; happiness, hope and…love.

Back then, he asked her to start their next big adventure. When he proposed to her, something clicked into place. She already had the thing she would miss the most, but to tie the knot felt like the right step to make.

When the witch thought back at their years together as friends and a couple, she couldn’t help but marvel over how well everything worked out in the end. Because Merlin knows, they didn’t have an easy start by any means. Their romance started right when incredibly hard and dark months lay ahead of them; months and years of mourning, rebuilding, coping and one of the things she was incredibly thankful for, therapy. They all needed it, although all of them used to consider it an admission of vulnerability before they finally saw how healing it was, amongst other things.

And despite the grave times and hardships, Hermione always had her very own source of light. Among the wonderful people in her life providing her with the warmth she needed to beat the darkness, one of them stood out the most. Ron Weasley was, without a doubt, the brightest and strongest light for her and she knew that it was everything she needed.

Ron currently stood in front of his wardrobe, fishing out one of his old but still brightly orange Cannon shirts. Before he could turn around again, Hermione walked up and hugged him from behind. She pressed herself against his back, her left cheek resting right between his shoulder blades.

“Okay!” She murmured as her fingertips softly grazed up and down Ron’s sides.

“Okay what?”

“I’ll sleep at my parents’ house tonight.”

Ron turned around to her, clearly surprised about the sudden change of opinion.

Before he could say anything else, she softly kissed him. Returning and deepening the kiss, Ron pulled her closer as a soft moan escaped her. Kissing Ron Weasley most definitely will never get old.

“Are you sure?” He asked, and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at the not-so-subtle disappointment in his voice.

“Did you expect me to persuade you with my mediocre seduction skills? Because I think I looked right through you just now.”

With a smug and slightly embarrassed look that only Ron Weasley could manage, he gave her one of his trade-mark lopsided smirks.

“It was less expecting than hoping for it,” he answered, softly tugging some locks behind her ear before leaning down to kiss her ear lobe, “And mediocre my arse you little vixen.” “Well, I definitely considered it to be my next move, but then I thought it’s probably kind of romantic to not see each other until Dad walks me down the aisle.”

“I’ll certainly not stand in the way of this rare display of romance by Hermione Granger.” Ron winked at her as he slowly backed her into the direction of his old bed. “But if you don’t mind, I’d love to get you a parting gift before your departure.”

*******

As Hermione lay in her bed, dressed in her most comfortable pyjamas, she finally admitted to herself why she had been against separate sleeping arrangements tonight in the first place. It was irrational and probably ridiculous considering the many days they spent apart when Hermione went to Hogwarts and Ron to Auror training, but she couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of uneasiness and unrest that settled inside her stomach.

She had gotten so used to falling asleep beside him, with his soft snoring and the warmth always radiating off him, no matter how cold of a day it was. Several night missions and other Auror assignments made Hermione miss the redhead at night, but especially today, with the excitement about tomorrow keeping her wide awake, she found it next to impossible to fall asleep without his large, freckled hand resting on her hip.

As Hermione looked out of the window beside her old bed, preparing herself to count herself to sleep with the stars she could make out from here, a small ball of light reflected in the glass and illuminated the room.

And she really didn’t need to turn around to see who just apparated inside her bedroom. That’s why she just closed her eyes, not being able to stop her face to split into a wide smile when Ron climbed into bed beside her and draping an arm around her middle, pulling her close.

For some silly reason, Ron showing up tonight made her feel so incredibly happy that she couldn’t stop the tears welling up in her eyes. Enjoying his warmth and leanness and the hot breath at the back of her neck, she marvelled at the simple fact that Ron Weasley illuminated her life in every way possible.

“I love you.”

#romione #2020 hpromione discord secret santa #ron x hermione #hermione x ron #hermione/ron #ron/hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione fanfiction #romione fanfic #hermione granger fanfiction #hermione granger fanfic #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fanfic #weasley is our king #my fanfic #my fanfiction

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

Drew Stars Around My Scars

Hello, hey, hi there. It’s raining, I’ve already lost track of the number of times I’ve listened to Taylor Swift’s new album and haven’t written anything in weeks. Until now! Thanks, Taylor Swift. And @optomisticgirl who reblogged this post a few days ago from @initiala about how Killian holding Emma in 3x22 isn’t just that he’s trying to comfort her, but he’s trying to make sure she didn’t disappear.

Which, like...ok, cool. Anyway, I have thought about this for far too long now and started slamming on keys when the kittens weren’t sitting on my laptop and here’s like 4.1K that may or may not make sense, but at least includes some scathing opinions of Back to the Future. Also, thanks to @shireness-says for always being like...yeah, I want to read that.

-----

She sniffles.

She can’t seem to stop.

Tears stream down Emma’s face without much thought because thinking too much is a daunting obstacle that she can’t even begin to consider yet. Or ever. Definitely ever. Another sniffle, this one actually making her cough somehow, which is a bodily reaction she was not aware she was capable of.

Until right now.

When everything seems to be falling apart around her.

God, she hates time travel. And magic. And evil queens. And parents who can’t recognize her. She supposes she should give them a pass. For a variety of reasons, least of all the magic that’s cloaking both her and Kill—no, that’s not right. Hook. Captain Hook. He’s Captain Hook and she’s still not a princess, but the dancing was almost nice and he hadn’t even slowed down before he was drawing his sword and the jacket spin was something even her muddled thoughts have been able to cling to, so—

He’d held onto her while her mother burned. Tightly. Almost too much.

Emma nearly trips over a tree root.

“Shit,” she breathes, pressing the pads of her fingers into damp cheeks. Her dress is too long. Maybe she’ll mention that to Rumplestilskin later.

Once they get home.

Back to Storybrooke. Those are not interchangeable words. None of this is interchangeable.

Even the trees around Emma look different than the ones she only vaguely remembers from her last jaunt through the Enchanted Forest, taller and a little more imposing, like they’re also aware that she’s one good sniffle away from falling off the metaphorical edge.

Directly into a chasm without magic or parents and she didn’t even get to talk to Mary—

“Nope,” Emma says entirely to herself. So, it seems insanity is looming just a bit closer than she realized. “Not here.”

Or ever. There’s that phrase again. Two words, technically.

Two words probably don’t constitute a phrase.

What does she know, she didn’t graduate college. Or high school, technically.

“Literally,” Emma mumbles, and it’s almost impressive how that one word still manages to sound as loud as it does. As if it’s bouncing off the sides of those same tall and decidedly imposing trees. “Literally didn't graduate high school.”

Something snaps behind her.

There are far too many twigs on this forest floor.

Spinning on the balls of her feet, Emma’s hands fly up, only one of her wrists cracking in the process, and it’s difficult to make out the face moving towards her, but the set of his shoulders is exactly the same as always and that cannot possibly have any deeper meaning.

“Swan?” “God, fuck what are you—” Emma is out of breath. That’s absurd. And a rather unfair commentary on her lungs ability to function. She’s had something of a day, after all. Running a hand over her face, she does her best to retain her higher brain functions, but that’s admittedly difficult when there’s moonlight gleaming from the point of Killian’s sword.

Captain Hook.

Captain. Hook.

Maybe the state of her lungs is partially his fault. He really held on very tightly.

“What are you doing out here?” Emma manages to get out, once she’s taken another pitiful breath. She hopes her lips don’t start to chap. There’s probably not an easy remedy for that in the goddamn Enchanted Forest.

Hook gapes at her.

She grits her teeth. And regrets the state of her knees. They keep wobbling under her, traitors to her emotional cause and the state of several body parts aside from her obviously failing lungs. Whatever’s happening in the general vicinity of her heart seems unstable.

Erratic, even.

“Making sure you’re alright,” Hook says like it’s obvious, and it almost is. Almost. What another piece of garbage word. “You’ve been—” Shaking his head once, the ends of his hair don’t move as much as normal, and Emma flinches when he sheaths his sword. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.” Emma is going to lie. She is. Has every intention of letting the word fine pass through her lips, but those lips open without any sound coming out at all and Hook’s eyebrows jump.

“Thank you.” “Excuse me?” “Thank you,” Emma repeats, finally giving into the urge of her knees and, if nothing else, the length of this dress makes it easier to sit on one of these overly large tree roots. Hook’s eyebrows don’t move. “Should have, uh—should have mentioned that before, probably.” “Thanking me?” “What part of this is confusing for you?” “Quite a bit, in fact,” he admits, and he doesn’t sit, but he also doesn’t look away from her and Emma is pleasantly surprised to find she almost sort of likes it. Almost. Again.

Letting out a breath that she wishes sounded more like a laugh than it does, Emma’s tongue darts out. “Shit, that..well, that sucks, doesn’t it?” His eyes widen. “That’s not a euphemism,” Emma adds. “Just out of place slang.” “You might have to be more specific, love.”

“That’s fair. I—ok, stuff sucking is...well, it just means that stuff is...not great. Like right now, you know...things are—” She shrugs. And tries to smile. It fails spectacularly.

Emma sniffles again.

“Not great?” Hook ventures, and he has to readjust his sword to sit next to her.

“Less than ideal.”

“You’ve been gone for nearly half an hour. I was worried something had happened.” “Hence the sword.” “Never want to be too careful. And you’re—” “—At least capable of still punching people,” Emma argues, not sure why she’s doing that exactly, but it feels like a matter of pride at this point. She exhales loudly. “But, uh...it’s nice that you came out here. I’m sorry that you had to do that too.” They both hear the words for what they aren’t — vast and a little overwhelming, and time travel is so overrated. Emma can’t believe what a popular fictional trope it is. Snow White was never supposed to die. The ends of Hook’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t actually smile, and that’s actually nice and maybe that’s her biggest issue.

Everything about him has been so goddamn nice.

He was much better at dancing than she expected him to be.

And he keeps following her. She doesn’t mind that.

Might even—

No. Not now. Not yet. Or ever. Again. God.

“It’s not a problem, love.”

Emma swallows. Nods. Tries not to fall over that ledge. “I just...needed some time to think, I guess. Is that dramatic?” “No. And suggesting it sucks does have a certain charm to it.” “And you know all about charming, don’t you?” His left eyebrow arches. Some things never change, she supposes. Emma focuses on that. And not how she’s fairly certain she can feel waves of heat rolling off him, even with the few inches between them. Possibly a foot. She’s not great at estimating measurements.

Or much else, it seems.

That’s a far too depressing thought, though.

“I believe I’ll leave that particular moniker to others in the party,” Hook says softly, sitting down. “Would you like to talk about it?” “Which part?” “Dealer’s choice.” “That one crossed realms, huh?”

“Some sayings know no bounds,” Hook smirks, and whatever sound Emma makes at that is even closer to a laugh than the last one. She takes that as a positive. “None of this is your fault.” “Practice that a few more times and it might sound more legitimate.” “Swan, that’s—” “—No, no, no,” Emma objects, not standing up, but she shakes her head quickly enough that strands of hair slap at either one of her cheeks. A few of them stick there. Probably because of the tears she can’t seem to stop. “All of this is my fault. I—I should have waited for help with the portal and everything I’ve done here has only made it worse and—” Another sigh, dragging her hand over her cheek. “—Fuck Marty McFly. And Doc Brown. It was so weird that they were friends, why didn’t anyone ever explain that?” “Did they not?” “No, not once. We were just supposed to accept that Marty met some senior citizen inventor guy who was more than willing to steal dangerous chemicals—” “—And he wasn’t a wizard?” “No, he wasn’t a wizard. No magic in the real world.” Or me, Emma thinks bitterly, but that’s not going to help the situation anymore than her current rambling, and she can’t seem to stop rambling. “But Marty and Doc hung out all the time. And Jennifer didn’t even think it was weird.” “Who is Jennifer, exactly?” “Marty’s girlfriend, I guess, but it always seemed like they were just starting to date at the beginning of the movie and then they got married. Just like that. You think they went to the same college or something? Like once Marty left—shit I can’t remember the name of the town.” Hook hums, a sound Emma can’t actually cling to any more than she can hold the one positive thing that has happened to her in the last twenty-four hours in her hands. It is not lost on her that both of them have to do with the man sitting next to her.

Or how quickly his fingers keep fluttering over the hilt of his sword.

“How far do you think we are from Aurora and Philip’s...land?” Emma asks. “Is that the right way to say that? Did they have a land?” “I believe the word you’re looking for is kingdom.” “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Should have known that.” “That’s not your fault either.” “You’re really harping.” “Playing a symphony, it seems.” She laughs. She does. It’s not that loud, and there’s a distinctly watery edge to it, the muscles in Emma’s face aching when she manages to smile, but she’s having a difficult time coming to terms with the dexterity of Killian’s eyebrows and her hand moves before she thinks about it.

The metal is cool under her skin, a smooth surface that she can drag her thumb across. Which is exactly what she does, an attempt to ground herself and remind her that she’s still here when she isn’t entirely positive she’s supposed to be.

Hook doesn’t move. Might not breathe, if the state state of his shoulders is any indication and Emma hadn’t realized she was in possession of so many opinions regarding Captain Hook’s shoulders. Or her ability to recognize them.

No matter what, it seems.

“While it may appear that I know everything—” “—Ok, I never said that.” Hook’s smirk grows more pronounced. “I was in Neverland for quite some time, and the boundaries of some of the Enchanted Forest kingdoms changed in the last hundred or so years. But,” he adds when Emma opens her mouth again, “we’re more than a stone’s throw from the land Aurora should be ruling. At least several days' travel.” “God, that’s confusing. And did all these kingdoms have separate laws and everything? Who came up with that? Seems like a garbage way to rule.” “I believe you’d have to file a complaint with several different monarchies for that, love.”

Emma scoffs. “It’s quieter here than it was in Neverland, though.” “Most places are.” “Colder too. I hate the cold. I’m always—can’t ever seem to get warm and my toes are always freezing, it’s...I’m a notorious blanket thief.” “Pirate of sorts, huh?” He grins as he says it and part of Emma wants to scream. Stand up and run, as fast as her feet and far-too-long hem allow. But that part is also smaller than usual, and she’s all too aware of the state her knees are in. “Something like that,” Emma agrees. “When I was a kid I used to live in this place. Snowed for months at a time and I—I hated it. Wanted to be anywhere else. Kept trying to find somewhere that was warm, sunny. Like that would chase away the shadows.” Hook is disarmingly quiet.

And Emma can’t shut up.

“But then I got some place where it never snows and it wasn’t what I thought it’d be. Dry heat, you know?” He shakes his head. That’s fair. Pirates with several-hundred years of experience under their belts should not be expected to understand meteorological cliches.

“Anyway,” Emma mumbles, “it wasn’t what I expected or thought was supposed to happen and—” She scrunches her nose. Hook waits. Presumably for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn’t come and she finds it difficult to breathe again when he starts talking.

“Sunlight always seemed better on the sea. Would reflect off the surf. Could see the entire horizon if you wanted to.” “And did you?” Hook nods. “As often as I could. Even when I was lad. My father used to bring my brother and I—” This might be their best and least organized conversation. Gritting his teeth, his shoulders shift when he inhales sharply. “These stars are different from Neverland’s.” “Really? Weird.” “Mmhm, made navigating something of a challenge.”

“But you’re here now, right?” “Presently, you mean?” Another head shake. More moving hair and unmoving fingers. Emma’s knuckles are white around the hook, holding it like a lifeline and she might have to spend the rest of her life thanking him for this.

It’s not as daunting a prospect as it should be.

“I mean past you is here,” Emma says, “in the Enchanted Forest. Doing pirate type things and offering Mary—” Her tongue gets in the way. As disgusting a thought as that is, Emma knows it’s better than thinking about what is actually happening, feeling as if her throat is collapsing in on itself while her heart does its best to beat its way out of her chest. “Shit.” Killian shuffles closer, not stopping until his knee bumps hers. “That happened from time to time. Leaving Neverland, doing jobs for—” “—Pan?” “Sometimes. He couldn't leave the island, you see. Not without losing the magic as well. Jolly’s crew was his only option. Although we always managed to stay here longer than he wanted us to.” “Well, pirates hate rules, don’t they?” “I believe that’s in the bylaws, aye.” She’s got absolutely no idea what sound that one is. Shaky and a little wobbly and some dark, half-forgotten part of Emma’s brain believes it’s drifting close to giggle territory. That can’t be right. She can’t giggle while she’s still crying.

The bylaws of the Universe probably frown on that.

“Is that how you wound up with Cora, then? Stuck around longer and got a good deal?” Nothing.

No answer. No jokes. Certainly nothing even remotely resembling a giggle.

Just the muscle in Hook’s temple, jumping rhythmically and consistently and Emma really does try to stay patient. Her sniffling makes that difficult.

“Something like that,” Killian repeats evasively, staring straight ahead like he can see through the trees. Maybe he can. What does Emma know. Some pirates probably have to have good eyesight. Make up for the eye patches and whatnot.

She nods. No one asked a question. “Ok.” “Ok?” “Ok,” Emma echoes, “you’re a real shit liar and I’m real great at telling when you’re lying, but—” “—Me specifically?” Yes. The answer is yes, but she doesn’t give voice to that either and maybe she should be writing all these things down. The things she’s not saying.

Should say.

Emma can’t believe she time traveled and didn’t even get to talk to her mother.

And that’s the first time she’s really allowed herself to think of Snow White as her mother.

“Super power,” Emma continues, waving her free hand towards her temple. Her other one is still clinging to his hook. “But that’s fine. You didn’t pry, so I won’t pry, I just—” Collapsing throats, she imagines, are supposed to hurt more than this does. This doesn’t hurt, per se, just feels passably uncomfortable, like there’s a wad of cotton in her mouth, making it difficult to say anything and Emma is so bad at saying anything, but Killian is staring at her and—

Killian.

She lets herself call him Killian. In her head, at least .

“I can’t come up with anything else to say except thank you,” Emma whispers.

“You don’t have to.” “Still.” “You’re welcome,” Killian says, and maybe words carry more weight in the past. By default.

“Can I ask you something, though?” He tenses. Noticeably. It’s another round of fair and understandable, Emma’s teeth finding her lower lip until she tastes blood. Another reminder that she’s still here. With her fingers wrapped around Captain Hook’s—

No, that’s not right. Captain Hook did not follow her into a time vortex. Or ask her to dance. Or wear the fuck out of that jacket. Although that last one could use a bit more work, at least when it comes to sentence structure.

The point still stands.

Captain Hook didn’t do any of that. Killian Jones did.

And he—

“When we were watching everything in the castle and Regina was you know…” Killian lips go thin. Emma might be staring at his lips. Past him had been a very good kisser as well. Maybe she’ll mention that at some point. After this. “Well, I just,” she stammers, “I was terrified, for my mom and my dad and even Ruby—God, is that her name here?” “Introduced herself as Red when Snow White sent her.” “Weird.” “Perhaps the best word for the entire situation.” “Or shitty.” “Aye that too,” he smiles, which is not weird. At least not as weird as it should be. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.” “Yeah, me neither,” Emma breathes, not exactly the explicit truth, but at least several steps without moving. “I—you have very strong arms.” “A compliment?” “An observation.” Killian chuckles, and this hair really is unfortunate. Normally, that one bit that Emma has come to regard as her own personal torture device would artfully fall across his forehead, a metaphorical arrow towards eyes that always seem to get brighter when they’re looking at her.

As they often are.

But while the hair is different, the distracting tendencies of his tongue are the same. The tip of it finds the corner of his mouth, a soft push on the inside of his cheek, and Emma’s not keeping a list — at least not acknowledging her want of a list — but the tongue thing is definitely one of Killian’s most telling tells.

Seriously, her sentence structure sucks.

“Although,” Emma adds, “it wasn’t that bad.” HIs tongue goes back in his mouth. She’s got to stop thinking about his tongue.

“No?” “No,” she says. “It was...nice.” So, off the top of her head, she needs to fix — sentences, her grasp of the English language, her tendency to repeat herself, and finding better adjectives for emotionally charged moments.

Possibly.

Emma still hasn’t called him Killian to his face, after all.

“What did you think was going to happen?” No tongue, but an obviously tight jaw makes Emma’s stomach jump into her still-collapsed throat. “Like I said, love. I wasn’t sure. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” The lie feels like it reaches out, smacks her across the face and then backhands her for good measure. It leaves Emma’s cheeks tingling and something tugs at the base of her spine. Not magic, because she still doesn’t have magic, but maybe magic adjacent, like a memory or hints of a dream that keep lingering at the edges of everything, and she promised.

She doesn’t push. She doesn’t prod.

She doesn’t pry.

And Killian has to move his sword again when he gets back to his feet. “We’ve got a fire going, if you’d like to warm up.” “Yeah, ok. Thanks.” Emma doesn’t let go of the hook, keeps her fingers curled around it as they move back through the trees and neither one of them stumble, a very small, but much needed victory because—

Well, everything kind of continues to suck.

At least for a little while.

Snow White isn’t dead, but she’s a bug, and then she’s not a bug and Emma has no idea where Ruby goes. She’s too busy worried about this nameless woman and wielding a branch gets her another laugh and a smile she’s going to think about for at least seventy-two hours straight. Then there are trolls, and tears of the less-pained variety. Rumplestilskin continues to be any forest’s biggest asshole, and there’s magic and another round of crying and—

Emma runs.

Sprinting across Storybrooke, she ignores the ringing phone in her pocket, determined to hug her parents and hold her kid with her own display of impressive upper body strength.

And it gets better, less suck-like, at least. Food and smiles and the way her mother’s hand feels when it rests on top of Emma’s.

Until she’s sitting — tucked into the corner of a booth with her own face staring at her from the pages of Henry’s storybook and Emma can’t quite recognize the person there. The happiness on her face feels like...well, a story. A good one, but something that she can’t believe was hers or is hers or could be hers and she’s got to add tenses to that list she only kind of remembers.

Glancing around, the muscles in her neck object to the stress she’s putting them under, because time travel is awful and exhaustion is starting to creep its way up her spine.

“Looking for someone?” her mother asks, and Emma’s lips pop.

That’s it.

She understands. Fucking goddamn finally.

Emma might nod. Or shake her head. It doesn’t really matter.

There are no words. No explanations. Just clamoring back to her feet, the bottoms of her boots sticking to the linoleum near the door because one of the dwarves definitely spilled punch at some point and—

His head snaps up as soon as the door closes behind her.

“So, do you think Rumplestilskin is right?” Emma asks, dropping into one of the wrought-iron chairs at the table Killian has commandeered. Pirate term. “I’m in the book now. He said everything, besides our little adventure, would go back to normal. Do you think that it is?”

“He’s right. Otherwise I’d remember that damned bar wench I kissed.” She smiles. Wide and honest and easier than anything has ever been. And Killian doesn’t flinch when she teases him, like that’s something Emma is allowed to do, but she figures once she uses his name and once they start making out like teenagers it’s fine, and this is her favorite kiss.

By far.

No sounds, no rum, nothing except the feel of his fingers in her hair and her knees bumping against his and she tries to claw her way into his space, a burst of colors behind her closed eyes that she knows is magic and him and them, a collective unit that—

“You came out here,” Killian murmurs, the words barely making their way through the haze of Emma’s post-makeout brain.

She bumps her nose against his. “Turnabout and all that. I...I didn’t want you to be by yourself. And I had a thought.” “Which was?” “Did you think I was going to disappear? When Regina tried to kill my mom. I—you said you didn’t know what would happen, but that wasn’t—” “—Super power, huh?” “Not cool to interrupt when I’m theorizing.” “Well, you don’t like being cool, do you, Swan?” Her smile is going to get stuck on her face. That’s...nice. “Was that what it was?” “The thought had crossed my mind, aye.” “Smart guy.” “High praise.” “I’m an official princess now. In the book and everything, so favors from me hold a certain weight, don’t you think?” He smirks. She tries to memorize it. Every shift of his mouth, the spark in his eye and slight scrunch of his nose, what might be a few freckles there or a trick of the dim lights above them.

Emma’s skin feels like it’s vibrating.

“Thank you.” “You don’t have to keep saying that, Swan.” “Yeah, I know, but—I didn’t think about disappearing, but I did think about wanting something to hold onto and that’s...thank you.”

It’s not enough. Not really, but even the concept of holding her tight enough to ensure that she didn’t disappear in some fairy tale realm is a lot for Emma to wrap her mind around, so she’s going to give herself a pass on this one.

And kiss him instead. Kissing Killian is quickly climbing to the top of a brand-new list of Emma’s favorite things. In every known realm. His tongue swipes her lips and she opens her mouth at the same time her eyes fall shut again, a tilt of her head and bump of their chins, and it’s not easy to deal with all of their assorted limbs at this angle, but that just ensures that this is a bit slower and softer and something that is, quite obviously, the start.

Because she came after him this time.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #THANKS TAYLOR SWIFT

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ohmyasmodeus · 4 years

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 (𝐈) ☾ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴

i feel like we can all agree that we arent over the paws event ! i couldn’t stop myself from writing something self indulgent and more like the fantasy fiction i primarily write ♡ these are a little longer than what i usually do so be warned!

lucifer + mammon (i) ☾ leviathan + satan + asmodeus (ii) ☾ beelzebub + belphegor (iii)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙧

Wrought iron. The dark woods that surrounded your reclusive village were like wrought iron palisades of tangled branches. You’d grown up with the stories. The heavy mist that obscured the distant trees quietly suffocated those in its reach, the thorny brambles flayed flesh from unlucky limbs, and there was no way out of the labyrinth of the hinterland. Or so they say. You were more than sure that these rumours were nothing but hamfisted attempts by your elders to make you and the rest of the villagers stay. As if you would let them. You were sick of it. One day, you were going to find a way out of this backwater village. You were going to explore the world beyond flimsy folk tales and primitive traditions.

However, there was one thing that kept you wondering— howling outside your window. You would hear them at night, eerie howls that almost crossed into humanlike screams of agony. They would come in the middle of the night, freezing your breath in your chest and you would stare out the window with your wide eyes, gazing at the moon through the mist that obscured the distant treeline. It was the worst in the winter, when the howling chilled the blood in your veins and the winter air stripped you from any warmth.

By the next winter, you had long since gotten sick of your suffocating village. You had long forgotten about the howling as well, and only remembered as you were in the middle of booking it through the woods on impulse. All you knew is that you had to leave, to finally cut yourself free from the ties that bind. The mists parted for you, the brambles crunched harmlessly underfoot while your breath escaped in light clouds of steam, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the howling. You had always assumed a wild animal made them, just to put your worries at rest. But alone in the cold… you wondered.

Alone in the cold, you were so easy to corner. Lucifer had sensed the intrusion from the moment you stepped into his enclave. Through your terrified tears, you could barely see the dark skies past the massive shoulders, the raven-black fur that ruffled with the winter winds. You were nothing like the humans he’d encountered in the past. Humans that intended to hunt his kind came with knives and war cries, but you held yourself innocent with nothing but a half-filled knapsack on your back. Curiously, Lucifer smelled you, nudging your tears away with his wet nose.

“You must be lost,” he says in his silken voice, quiet to keep you calm. He rises to sit before you in his full height, and gently nudges you with his nose once more when you shiver and wipe your eyes. “I won’t hurt you. Tell me, what’s your name?”

And you tell him. Then you tell him through your now frustrated tears all about your village, about everything you have been trying to run away from, and his thick fur keeps you warm as you walk together through the night. He warns you that the way is long and the night grows dangerous, but nothing hampers your determination to leave the life that you once knew. Lucifer finds himself obliged to follow as an escort.

✧ A proud wolf, Lucifer is an natural leader. He dedicates himself to fiercely defending his territory and his pack, which over time seems to grow to include you as an exception. You see it in his eyes, the way his hackles raise and his eyes narrow by the firelight when he senses trouble in the vicinity, the way he curls around you when you settle down like a shield against the harsh winter. He talks to you by the fire, curious about your experiences and destination. Though, make no mistake— he nips at you when you try to stroke his soft fur or ears. He refuses to be treated like a pet. (Although it’s fairly easy to try to ease him into it. Toss him a slab of cured meat from your knapsack and he might just let you scratch behind an ear.)

✧ Do not forget that his treatment of you is a privilege. An exception. The stark contrast of crimson that drenches into the pale snow reminds you of it when you forget. Lucifer spares but a moment before viciously sinking his teeth into any other humans not as a killing blow, but a warning. There is no hesitation before he tears people apart, spilling bile and gore in front of you, the wild look in his eyes making you stumble backwards. You steal the shotguns from the bloody corpses with shaking hands. You hear his chilling howl in person for the first time after a fresh kill, the harsh sound a warning for other predators. This is his territory.

✧ He is there for you when the nights grow long, and your heart grows so heavy that all you can do is bury your face into his fur and feel his steady breathing. He hunts for you, bringing you fresh fish as the lakes slowly start to thaw out. One time, he drags you an entire elk carcass that has you balking at the sheer size, and sits by it proudly with a wagging tail as if awaiting your praise. He lets you reward him with a kiss on his snout, but just this once.

✧ Lucifer doesn’t care to subscribe to the moon’s cycle, defying it by haughtily wearing his wolf pelt across his shoulders like a mantle in his human form. In his human form, you see the scars that still dig into his flesh, revealed by gaps in his collar and clothes. His large hands are calloused, tipped with obsidian nails that almost resemble claws. But they never touch you. Lucifer never touches you with anything but the firm affectionate touches of a lover. His teeth remain deadly sharp, but they only nip playfully to rile you up.

✧ “Stay. You don’t have to keep running,” he mumbles as he drapes the pelt across your shoulders and kisses your neck. You sink into his warmth. “Not with me.”

♡ 𝙢𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙤𝙣

A simple life had always been enough for you. There was a great pride to be taken in the life you had built for yourself, a great escape surrounded by lavender and wheat fields and mountainsides smattered with wildflowers. Your farm stood proud, tilled fields thriving in the welcoming sun. There was nothing you would want to change, not the wonderful solitude, nor the hard work you set aside for yourself. Not even the wildlife bothered you. You welcomed the creatures you often found wandering through your fields, completely naïve to human contact. And the nature that surrounded you welcomed you in the same way.

Though the fresh blood you soon found spilled only a little beyond the livestock pens made you think otherwise.

A predator, surely. The sheep had been startled but only a few had gone missing, a sign of a desperate animal. You shook the instinctual fear away and decided to trek across the property to try and reinforce some of the fences you had built to keep most of the wildlife out. But once you found the large hole that had been torn through a wire fence that separated your farm from the rest of the wilderness, you weren’t sure how effective your reinforcing would be.

No matter how strong your fences were or how high you built up the fences that kept the sheep in, every now and then, you would notice a lamb or two gone. It was far from a devastating amount, but those were your livestock… Yet, life persisted. The predator never seemed to cause too much of a ruckus or tried to break into your home, so you were confident in your ability to continue farming. The charming landscape and the work you had put into your farm were things that you simply couldn’t give up on.

A lazy hand wipes the sweat from your brow as you set your tools down for the day. Darkness fell across the fields and bathed you in its cooling winds, the receding dusk tinting the velvet skies a charming pink. All is well once more. You stand and stretch, before leaning back on the wooden fence behind you to watch the bright stars wink into appearance. Everything seems so different from the city life that you had known before… and you’re happy. Well, up until you decide to turn to see how your sheep are doing.

You don’t even register the danger you’re in before you start yelling.

“What the fuck are you doing? Put it down!” Silvery fur stands on end when you yell from across the fence, the large wolf looking at you like a deer caught in headlights as it tries to drag away a helpless struggling lamb. You jump the fence and land loudly. “I said put it down!”

The wolf stares at you for a tense second before reluctantly opening its jaw. The lamb kicks it in the snout as it desperately wiggles away, and the wolf whimpers softly before putting a paw over its snout as if to soothe it, and it strikes you as so odd— its eyes are too smart, too aware to be just any animal. Its ears pin themselves back in shame, just like its gait as it gets up to try and weasel away from its crimes. And you’re pretty sure you just heard it mutter an ‘Oh, shit’.

✧ Mammon is more than aware of the power he has. It would be easy to kill all your livestock in one night and kill you along with them, but that’s not something that interests him very much. He honestly just wanted to see how much he could steal without you coming after him, and whether he could steal from right under your nose. He still is a greedy wolf, after all, but he leaves all the territorial business to Lucifer, much preferring to mess around with unlucky humans.

✧ And yet, for all the power he brags to you about having, he’s about as dangerous as a teacup puppy. He isn’t a fan of hurting humans, and the only thing you really have to do to get him to stop stealing your sheep is to feed him slabs of meat every time he comes by. Pavlov him enough and he’ll come running when you yell his name out the front door expecting dinner and a nice side of milk to accompany it. He likes the company too, and the way you two can watch the moon while having dinner in your fields together.

✧ “Aww, aren’t you the hungriest puppy!” You coo over him as you toss him slabs of raw meat, thankfully from cattle that you decided to cull this time, and he catches them expertly midair. “Good boy!”

“I ain’t a damn dog! I’ll eat you next!” Mammon protests. He could easily stop indulging you, but he’s immediately leaping the moment he sees you throw another hunk of meat. Your praise makes his ears perk up in the sweetest way and his tail wag so hard you’re almost afraid it might fall off. For all his whining about being one of the most terrifying werewolves, he instantly melts the moment you dig your fingers into his thick silver fur and give him a scritch. He rolls over without hesitation just so you can give him a good belly rub, letting you see how adorable he is when he kicks his leg in enjoyment.

✧ Mammon definitely has a habit of covering you with his scent. He nuzzles his face into you at any opportunity, often leaving your clothes dusted with his pale fur, just because you bring out his need to mark his territory. He won’t have anyone else putting their dirty paws on you!

✧ For as much as he acts like he’s already domesticated around you, he loves dragging you along to see the wilder side of things— running through the fields with you desperately clinging to his back at midnight, finding himself caught up in the adrenaline as he playfully bites at you and pins you down when you two play fight. He’s still a wild wolf at heart, and loves it when you two howl at the moon together. The woods is where he first pulls you into a heated kiss once the sun peaks over the mountains and turns him human.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

context for mammon’s love of sheep ♡

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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