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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year

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Pairing : Choi San x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; arguing ; heavy angst ; car accident ; reader dies at the end ; Word Count : 3.8k A/N : ->I WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING THE TWS! PLEASE! SOME PEOPLE SKIP OVER THEM, PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! I HAVE NO CHILL WITH MY ANGST SOMETIMES!

“I gotta go to the office real quick…”

“Of course you do…” You sat on the couch, the bowl of grapes that you had been mindlessly popping into your mouth was perched atop your swollen stomach. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and you thought that with the numbered days and the uncertainty of whether you’d actually make it to your due date that San would have chosen staying home with you to make sure he’d be there in case your water broke. Instead, he had been going to work more frequently, as if he was trying to find any reason he could to be out of the house and away from you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His footsteps had paused right at the front door, and most of the time you’d stay quiet, waiting for him to leave before rambling to yourself about how shitty he was. There wasn’t really anything different about today, you had simply grown tired of waiting and hoping that he’d finally show some sort of interest over the life he had away from work.

“What do you think it means, San?” You retorted back, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. His eyebrows were raised, as if he were testing you to say something else, testing you to let this argument keep going when it could easily be forgotten about, by him, when he walked out the door. “It’s always gotta go to the office, gotta go meet up with the guys, gotta go practice my dances, gotta go record a new part.”

The overexaggerated mocking of his voice clearly had him ticked off, and he quickly shimmied out of his coat, letting it drop to the floor as he walked over to the couch to stand behind you, his eyes narrowed and his voice rising in volume. “So it’s a problem now? You’re so fucking bored that you gotta find a problem in anything to entertain yourself.”

You scoffed loudly, placing the bowl of grapes to the side so you could push yourself up off the couch to go stand in front of him, your stomach the only thing keeping you from getting in his face at this point. “I’m not fucking bored! I’m pregnant with your fucking twins!” The way he rolled his eyes, the coy smirk that played on his face as you yelled at him like he was finding enjoyment in your aggravation. It was blood boiling. “You think you’re so great, you’re Gods gift to mankind… You’re shit where it matters most.”

His sarcastic chuckle was only proof of how much he didn’t care, how he thought this was nothing less than a comedic waste of his time. “That’s not what you thought 3 years ago, and it’s not what you thought 7 months ago… Is it?” His eyes flicked down between your face and your stomach, the smirk on his face had your hand twitching, wanting nothing more than to smack it off. “But if you think I’m such shit… You can leave. I’m not keeping you here.”

So that’s how he was going to be? Of all things that you could have thought he’d say, you never thought that would be one of them. “Fine… But when you get home from whatever the fuck you do at the office and realize that I’m not here… Don’t call me. I’m fucking done with you. I’m over it, I’m over all of this.”

He snorted loudly, walking over to pick his coat up off the floor and put his shoes on. “Sure you are.” He mocked, grabbing his keys off the hook and walking out the door. There wasn’t an I love you, there wasn’t even a goodbye muttered over his shoulder. He simply walked out, and that’s exactly what you were planning on doing too.

You weren’t even sure how you were supposed to go about getting everything that you needed. It’s not like you could pack up all the cribs and stuff that had already been put together in the nursery, not by yourself, and not in the little sedan that you had. You could only pack what you needed right now and think of the other things later.

The baby’s clothes were thrown into the suitcase that had been on the floor, already half filled with the clothes that you’d be taking. You had already called your mom to ask if you could come stay with her for a bit, and she had offered to pick you up herself, but you knew that it would only take longer that way and you didn’t want to risk San coming back home, knowing that it would only turn into another argument.

You weren’t even supposed to be driving at this stage of your pregnancy, the doctors had told you that it would be dangerous, and considering your water could break at any point, they didn’t think that it would be safe for you to be behind the wheel of any car on any road. Maybe that’s why San had so carelessly said what he did, why he seemed so unbothered when he walked out the door. He didn’t think you’d actually leave, but he was wrong. You weren’t going to stay in a relationship where one side clearly didn’t care about the other. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, and he clearly wasn’t ready to be a father, especially not to the twins that you were carrying.

The snarky attitude that he had carried on his way out the front door had completely diminished once he was by himself in the car, and with it gone, it only left room for his annoyance. Not just with you, but with himself. You weren’t taking into consideration that it was a hard transition for him to make, being a full-time idol and having to prepare himself to become a father to 2 kids in less than a month. Of course, you were the one truly having to deal with all the changes, not just in your lifestyle, but your body, your hormones, everything. Sometimes he needed to go to work, just to get away from it all for a bit. It was strange how work became his place of relaxation now with everything going on.

He should have talked to you about the way he was feeling, he knew that you’d listen, you always did no matter what he wanted to talk about. He hadn’t given you that opportunity to listen though, and now the two of you were arguing again. It seems like that’s all you were able to do now. As soon as one of your mouths opened, the only words that came out were ones that would inflict some kind of pain or cause anger. It never used to be this way, and he knew that the stress of the upcoming and unavoidable change was the main factor that caused all of this, but that didn’t make it any better.

“Bad day?” Hongjoong asked when San walked into the practice room, all the eyes of the other members on him as he dropped his practice bag on the floor and headed right to the water cooler. All of the guys knew about you, they had been so excited to hear about your pregnancy as well, looking forward to 2 brand new family members that they could spoil. What they didn’t know about was the constant arguing, and usually San was able to hide his frustrations whenever he got to work, but today that wasn’t the case. “Is Y/N alright?”

San huffed loudly at the mention of your name, his neck twisting sharply to stare at Hongjoong. “Don’t.” He exhaled the word, glaring at the leader. “I just… Can we get things done quickly?” He muttered, wanting to get home to you as soon as possible. Hopefully you’d both have cooled off by the time he was done there and he would finally be able to open up to you about what was bothering you. It’s better late than never… right?

Practice didn’t go by as quickly as he wanted it to, he and the guys ended up going out to a nearby cafe to get a quick bite to eat. It only frustrated him more considering he had been trying to get in touch with you the past hour and you haven’t responded. Surely you wouldn’t have actually left him, he had heard the doctors orders as clearly as you had, and unless someone came to get you, you wouldn’t have left the house.

The television in the cafe was playing, and while San usually wouldn’t pay any attention to what was on, he quickly realized that whatever was on the screen was important. Every customer and employee were standing right beneath it, their hands covering their mouths as their eyes widened at the scene that was currently being filmed by the helicopter.

It was horrific, the mangled carcass of the small car that hadn’t stood a chance against the truck that was now sitting on top of it. The car was unrecognizable, and San couldn’t help but stare, much like everyone else in the cafe, unable to pull his eyes away from the sad scene.

“I bet it was a drunk driver…” “That poor person in the car though…” “I hope it was quick for them.” The voices of patrons murmured, and the atmosphere was suffocatingly morbid. There hadn’t been any information given out yet about either of the people driving, and others were already saying that one of them was dead? Of course, he could see how they’d think that, but it didn’t change the fact that people were talking as if this person didn’t stand a chance. Miracles could happen.

“That’s so sad…” Wooyoung shook his head as he sat down at the table, the first one of all of them that was able to pry his eyes away from the television. “It looks like it was on your street, San.” He pointed out, and when San stared at the screen a little longer, he was able to pinpoint certain store fronts that he’d go by every day to get to and from work.

He huffed out a curse, dreading the traffic that he knew would be backed up. “Do you want to start heading home now so that you can make it there by dinner time?” Hongjoong asked, watching as San pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sure Y/N will understand if you’re a little bit late coming home. There’s no way she hasn’t seen or heard about what’s going on. Just… Start heading home, and text me when you get there so I know you made it through.”

San nodded, sparing one last look at the tv screen before walking out of the cafe. It was crazy how fast life could be taken from people. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, he wondered about the person that had been driving the car. Did that person have someone in their life that meant the world to them? Did that person have a family? You never know if today would be your last day with the ones that you love, you shouldn’t take that for granted.

Those thoughts had San rushing to his car. He wanted you to know he loved you, how much you meant to him, how happy he was that you were in his life. There’s no one else in the world that he’d rather spend every single day with, and the more he thought about it, the more foolish he felt about the argument that he had with you this morning. All you had wanted was for him to stay home with you, and he had gotten mad about that. He’d make sure to make it up to you, to spend as much time with you as he could.

It took almost an hour and a half for traffic to start moving, and by moving, it was simply inching forward. His foot had grown tired from pressing down on the brake for so long, and most people had just turned off their engines while waiting.

The flashing lights from the police vehicles and the firetrucks and the ambulances reflected off shop windows, and there were lines of people standing on the sidewalk behind the police tape trying to get a view of the wreck sight. People's morbid curiosity never failed to baffle him, he didn’t understand why anyone would want to see anything that had happened there, especially not up close.

He refused to look at the scene when he drove past it, keeping his eyes straight ahead. The last thing he wanted to see was the body, or bodies of the people or person that had been in the car. He needed to keep his mind clear, he needed to focus on just getting to you, being home with you.

By the time he finally got to the house the sun was setting, a view that he loved to share with you on the back porch or laying on a blanket, your head nestled perfectly against his shoulder as his fingers absentmindedly played with your hair, your eyes marveling at the tangerine and cotton candy pink clouds that moved slowly across the darkening sky.

He missed those days, and the saddest part was that he's the only one keeping them from happening. Nothing was stopping him from spending evenings with you, nothing was stopping him from spending any time with you at all. The only thing stopping him was himself. He’d change that though, he’d spend more time with you, he’d hold you and tell you how beautiful you are, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, how lucky he is to spend every single day with you.

He parked the car, his eyes glancing back in the rear view mirror at the continued flashing emergency lights, and then down at the two car seats that had been set up in the back seats for a month already. Those seats once had a feeling of panic setting into him, questioning whether he’d be a good enough father, a good enough supporter for you. Now the sight of those seats made him feel warm, even a little bit fuzzy. You were his, he was starting his own family with you, and he’d be able to get through it with you by his side. Everything would be okay.

It was like a race, getting up to the house, his smile wide as he anticipated seeing you. It was completely different from the way he left, and he hoped that you’d understand, that you’d listen to his reasoning, to his apology. He was ready to be better, to live happily in the life that the two of you had created together.

The door was pushed open and the orange hue of sunlight was cast across the hardwood floors. “Babe?!” He called out for you, looking around the living room. The bowl of grapes were still sitting on the couch, you must still be there, you probably just had to use the bathroom. He moved further into the house, peeking into the bathroom and seeing that it was empty. So was the bedroom. The last room to check was the nursery, and when he walked in, he saw the closets had been opened, and not just that, but outfits that had once been neatly hung and color organized on the racks were now gone. “Y/N…?” Your name was now whispered as his stomach and his heart seemed to tighten, bile rising in his throat. Did you actually leave him? Did you truly believe that that’s what he wanted you to do?

He backed out of the room, his back hitting the wall behind him before he sprinted to the front door, throwing it open and finally realizing that your car wasn’t parked. He was so excited about going in and seeing you that he hadn’t even noticed… How had he missed it? His phone started vibrating in his pocket, and he wished that it was you, pulling it out and looking at the name on his screen. Hongjoong.

“I made it home… Don’t worry…” San muttered into the receiver, trying to sound as calm as he possibly could, but his throat was closing up and his eyes were becoming blurry with tears as he looked at the empty parking spot where your car had once been.

“That’s good… Did you talk to her?” The question had San swallowing back the bile that was making its way further up his throat. No, he didn’t talk to you, he didn’t get to, and right now he didn’t even know where you were which was terrifying to him.

“I’m kind of busy right now… I’ll text you later.” San said, ending the call before Hongjoong could ask any questions. Would you have gone to your parents? Maybe your friends? He didn’t know any of their numbers off hand, and the fact that you didn’t even let him know where you were going, you didn’t want him to find you. He really fucked up this time, and now he was in the dark and you were the only light that he wanted.

The keys were still in his pocket, and while he dreaded the thought of having to drive back through the traffic jam caused my the accident, he needed to get to your parents place, maybe you were there, he hoped that you were there.

Traffic idled slowly past the accident, back to back brake lights illuminated the road, and he was sure that things were only moving slower because everyone just wanted to get a good view. People were sick, how could anyone look at that?

As he moved closer, the model of the car, even being mangled, the make of the car, the color… His heart that had been sinking so slowly into the pit of his stomach lurched up into his throat. It wasn’t just the model and the make though, that would have been able to be written off as a coincidence… It was the license plate that had been slightly dangling off the back of the car. He knew those numbers, he had went with you to get those numbers recently and helped put them on the back of your car.

Tears were already flowing as he veered off to the side of the road, officers and paramedics trying to stop him from climbing out of his car, but he couldn’t be stopped. He threw the car door open and ran over to the car, it was your car. The truck that had hit you was already pulled off to the side, completely unscathed. The driver's side door of your car was in the process of being pried off.

“Sir, get back in your car!” The officer shouted, trying to keep San from moving any closer, but he was a force to be reckoned with at this point, using all of his weight to push against the officer, trying to get closer. “Sir!”

“No!” San screamed, pushing back against the office and rushing towards your car, wishing that he hadn’t when he saw you, falling to his knees beside your door, his sobs choked off as he doubled over. “Please… Please! God! No! Fuck!” He shouted, unable to control his emotions. The glass that had shattered upon impact was imbedding itself into his knees, the slight stinging wasn’t nearly as painful as losing you, living a life without you in it. How was he even supposed to navigate through life without you?

“Sir, we’re gonna need you to move. We need to get her out of there…” The officer that had tried to pull him away now took on a more sympathetic tone, realizing clearly what was going on. San couldn’t move though, it was like his legs were nothing more than noodles and the rest of him was like lead. “Please…”

“Will it make a difference?” He muttered, his movements zombie-like as he pushed himself up off the ground, his jeans bloodied from the cuts he got when he landed on the glass, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying so much. “Will she live? Will the babies live?” The officer's eyes widened, immediately looking through the window of the back seat of your car, and San only shook his head as he sniffled loudly. “She was pregnant… The twins… She…” His breaths were shaky, and they came so fast he was getting light headed, he was on the verge of passing out. “I’ve lost everything… Didn’t I…?”

The officer's eyes drifted down to the ground, his head bowed. “I’m so sorry sir, I truly am.” That was the first sorry that San had heard, but it surely wouldn’t be the last, at least not for a while. He never understood why people apologize for things like this. It’s not like they were the ones who had done it, and no amount of sorries would bring you back. You were gone…

He sat on the edge of the curb, watching as bright orange sparks flew up in the air, the skin crawling sound of steel against steel as when firefighters cut into the hood of the car. They had tried their best to pry the door off, but they couldn’t. There was no hope, although he had given up on that anyway. All he could do was wait for them to pull you out so he could say his final goodbyes, the goodbyes that should have been said to you as he walked out the front door this morning, goodbyes that shouldn’t have been said at all as he sat beside you on the couch and held you close.

He had told you to leave, he had been foolish enough to think that you’d still be there when he got back, that you’d continue to put up with him. This was all his fault… He had blindly chosen fame and the love and adoration of people around the world over you, the love of his life. Now he had nothing, he had truly lost everything in the blink of an eye, he hadn’t even told you that he loved you . He could only hope that you knew that he did, that somewhere, wherever you were, you knew that he loved you more than anything. You were the light of his life, the light at the end of the darkest of tunnels, and maybe one day, when the time comes, you’d be his light once more, guiding him back to you, and he’d be able to tell you that he loves you like he should have done today.

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chol1na · 8 months

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˖⁺‧₊ kitty? kitty.

author's note: i'm kinda nervous to post stuff but you only live once, right? a big thank you to @yoosungs-cheeks and @jannine00742 (my name twin hehe~) for proof reading! feedback is appreciated !!

“You done in there, Pickle?”. It was one time you were craving pickles at 3 am and couldn't open the jar, one time. And yet here you were, being reminded of the incident every few minutes.

“Pthu! Yep, I’m done. And stop calling me that!”, you spit out the tooth paste, wiping your mouth with your designated towel. It had been a while since you had decided to stay with Isaac. Soon after, his bathroom became your bathroom. His sink, once only occupied with his shaving equipment and toothbrush, soon became more cramped with your skin care and toothbrush holder. His bedroom became your bedroom. His bleak grey bedding now littered comfortable pillows and his nightstand stacked with the library's newest additions.

Leaving the bathroom, you spot your lover nestled into one of the two surprisingly comfortable leather chairs. You wrap your arms around him gently from behind, pecking his cheek. “Whatcha reading?”.

You glance over as he flips the book over so you can read the title. “Lord of the Flies? Bleh”, you grimace before continuing, “Though, I can’t say I’m surprised, Golding is almost as cynical as you”. “Someone’s in the mood to play”, Isaac chuckles, pulling you onto his lap. He kisses your shoulder before turning back to keep reading.

“Mind if I have a sip?”, I ask, nodding to his tea. Isaac hums, but soon pulls it away before you could steal a sip from him. “On second thought, no”. You pout, nudging him gently, “Huh? Why?! Don’t be stingy~ You know I like earl grey”.

He chuckles at your whining. “Because, you just brushed your teeth. I do not mind sharing with you, but I don’t think the taste of toothpaste and tea go together, Pickle”. You huff quietly, but don’t argue back. With a quiet yawn, you lean your head against his, occasionally playing with the sleeve of his free hand or a stray lock.

Your eyes twinkle as you watch him read. It’s difficult not to kiss him with the way his brows furrowed slightly in concentration. Part of you wants to straighten out the crease, poke his cheek, or maybe nibble on his neck, just to see his reaction. Almost as if he’d read your mind, Isaac leans over to give you a soft kiss, his free hand reaching for your lower back, the other still holding the book.

“Someone’s needy”, he smirks, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Are you bored?”. You yawn again, shaking your head, “No, just want to bother you a bit. Pay attention to me~”.

“Tired?”, he cups your cheek, closing the book as he sees through your playful facade. Truth be told, you were exhausted - but going to sleep now would mean going to sleep alone. If you asked Isaac to come with you, he’d drop everything in his hands and do just that, but, knowing just how little free time he gave himself, you wanted to tough it out. “No. Unless you’re read to sleep”, you mumble, nuzzling into him slightly.

“I'm ready for bed anytime you are, Kitten,” Isaac grins, seeing through you instantly.

“…Kitten?”, you blink in surprise. “Huh. I can’t tell if that’s an upgrade or downgrade from ‘Pickle’”.

"Hm… do you prefer something else? It came to me naturally. You’re clingy and yet independent. Needy and playful when you know I’m busy, and while I can count on you for important matters, I can also count on the fact that you’re a brat and a tease. So, Kitten was a natural next step”.

You tilt your head in thought, before shaking it softly, “You’re so… weird sometimes, Isaac”.

Isaac chuckles and lets go of you but only to take you by the hand and lead you to your bedroom. He motions for you to lay down and climbs in behind you, his body wrapped against yours. There’s a comfortable silence.

“Isaac?”, you mumble after a while. Isaac pecks the side of your neck, humming quietly, "Hmm?”.

“…Can we actually get a cat?”. You had asked him a few times - albeit playfully.

"You were serious about that? If getting a pet is a necessity for you…".

You nod slowly, turning to face him. “I think it’d be a nice addition to the family. It’s too early to think about having kids, but getting a fur baby would be nice, no? Besides, you said you always wanted a pet as a kid”.

He hums again, leaning his head on your shoulder while stroking your arm in thought, “You have no idea how tempting the idea of a family with you is… It is too early, though, yes”. He nods, “My mom was good with animals. I always wanted a pet that I could play with, like a dog or maybe a cat, but my grandfather was allergic to them”.

You glance down at him, softly patting his head. “Would you prefer a dog, then? Puppies are cute too”.

He shakes his head, his reply coming in swift and shrap, “No”. “A dog needs to be walked daily. I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you leaving the house periodically, anything could happen. No”. Your hand pauses, before you sigh quietly. As much as he tried to hide it, his paranoia was still clear as day. Baby steps.

“A cat doesn’t need to go outside”, you mumble, kissing his forehead. His breathing slowed down as he laid against you in silence, “A cat it is…”.

You sit up straight, mouth hanging open, “No way- seriously?!”. Isaac laughs at your sudden enthusiasm, “Calm down, Kitten. We'll go to the shelter in the morning, we'll pick out a nice cat, I'm sure. But for now just focus on your sleep, you won't be able to if you're this excited."

You snuggle back into the pillows, gigging happily, “Ah~ I’m so happy right now! What breed should we get? Oh- and are we getting a boy or a girl? Ah- we should probably buy a bed too right? And proper food? And those cute scratching posts! Are we adopting a kitten or an older cat? Or maybe- mmpf”.

Isaac cuts you short as you babble, silencing you with a gentle kiss, “Slow down, Kitten. You realize it is 3 in the morning, right? Can you at least wait for the sun to come up before you start planning our feline's every move?”.

You rub your neck sheepishly, “Sorry… I’m just excited!”. He can’t help but smile at you, cupping your face between his hands carefully, “I know, Pickle. Let’s sleep first and discuss the details tomorrow, hmm?”.

“Mmh. Good night, Isaac”, you peck his cheek. He returns the favor before closing his eyes.

“Isaac?… You didn’t brush your teeth…”.

#isaac x reader #isaac rhoades x reader #isaac rhoades #zsakuva #zsaku #sakuverse #zsakuva x reader #zsaku x reader

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siriannatan · 5 months

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Ice and Blood

After some thought I decided to start putting my dragon!Scott propaganda in one place, hope you enjoy :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55694242

It would seem like ever since Xornoth has been sealed away, peace settled between the Empires. Old conflicts forgotten, old alliances drifted apart and mingled with their former enemies until they'd been formally dissolved over a cup of tea. Peace and quiet. Even Sausage and Jimmy stopped quarreling over their quite obvious border in the form of a massive hole.

Well, it was certainly peaceful for a time. Until fWhip got bored and became a menace. Arguing and threatening war at the slightest insult or joke. Even Gem couldn't control her twin’s temper. Leading to tensions being high whenever anyone even just heard his cane from a distance.

After a couple months of that Gem decided enough was enough and grabbed volunteers - Sausage, Jimmy and Scott - to represent everyone in trying to talk sense to him. An hour into the talks it didn't seem to be working too well.

“Come on fWhip, just cut the nonsense threats,” Jimmy signed and the count just laughed.

“Sorry, don't feel like it. And this ganking up certainly isn't helping convince me,” fWhip shrugged. Ever since they came he sat casually on his throne, crown askew on his head, mocking smirk on his lips. He didn't even get up to greet them. What a menace. He was lucky he was pretty or Scott would have frozen him to his stupid chair.

“Why won't we talk alone then? Just you and me?” Scott offered knowing none of his companions, especially Gem, would ever agree.

“Scott you can't be…” Gem started in a hushed whisper.

“Why not, that certainly sounds better than this,” fWhip nodded with a laugh. The pompous prick.

Gem and Jimmy tried to protest but Sausage was smart enough to practically drag them out. Much to fWhip's amusement.

“Finally some peace and quiet, won't you agree?” fWhip smirked, and finally got up from his stupid chair. The clicking of his cane on the hardwood floor had Scott's scales itching from nerves. Maybe being alone with fWhip was a bad idea considering their history.

“Why have you decided to be a nuisance as of late?” Scott asked, suppressing the urge to step back as fWhip circled him. He could not shake off the feeling of being looked up and down.

“Oh, that's very simple, I was waiting for you to come to me. Alone. And now I have you right where I want,” fWhip grinned, stopping in front of Scott, just inches separating the two of them.

“You could have sent a letter,” Scott huffed, holding fWhip's mischievous stare.

“But, darling, wouldn't that be terribly boring?” fWhip's head tilted as his smirk grew, exposing just a hint of his fangs. Since when did fWhip have those? “And I got you here anyway, didn't I?”

“What do you want with me?” Scott asked, lowering the room's temperature by a few degrees. He was not going to be intimidated by fWhip's antics.

“Well, you see, shortly after we dealt with your dear brother I had a little dream. A vision really. Haven't been the same since. You just seem like the kind of person to not be turned away by small things like… blood,” fWhip explained, leaning closer and closer until his face was practically in Scott's neck. He for sure didn't imagine the sharp fangs grazing free of scales skin.

fWhip was of course damn right. Him being a vampire wasn't in the slightest an issue for Scott. Anyone else might have gone looking for a solution not involving biting anyone or a cure. Scott? Scott could not deny how exciting he found the idea. “You might be right…”

Scott barely finished the sentence before he was pulled and pushed to sit in fWhip's throne. “Ouch, watch the wings,” Scott hissed as fWhip clambered into his lap.

“Can I take that as a permission?” fWhip seemed to be present enough to ask.

“What? You never bit anyone before?” Scott could not help but tease him. It was just the two of them there, he didn't need to behave like a proper ruler. fWhip shook his head as he trembled in Scott'sap. “Aww, you've been saving yourself for me? How cute,” teasing fWhip was never this fun.

“Sure, whatever you want to think. Can I bite you?” fWhip grumbled, clearly starving.

“Go ahead but I'll push you off if you drink too much,” Scott agreed but felt the need to have an out.

“You can stay the night if you feel too unwell after,” fWhip breathed out a very tempting offer before sinking his fangs into Scott's neck.

Scott instantly wasn't sure if he could ever push fWhip off. The feeling was simply too good. He could barely hear himself moan from behind the pleasant fog that settled around his mind. Was it fWhip's doing? Some vampire poison to keep pray from struggling? Not that Scott particularly cared at the moment.

After what felt like forever fWhip pulled back. And maybe seeing his lips red with Scott's own blood shouldn't be an attractive sight but Scott felt too loopy to care. “You said you'd push me off,” fWhip instantly jumped into fretting about the half-dragon.

“I'm fine, I cab take you drinking some of my blood,” Scott grinned, no doubt looking like an idiot.

fWhip scoffed at that. “Try standing up then,” he challenged, arms crossed over his chest. He looked awfullya lot like Gem when she gave out lectures on how proper rulers should behave.

Scott, never one to back away from a challenge, tried standing up. His legs held out for maybe total of five seconds before fWhip pushed him back into the chair as he was about to collapse. “Okay, maybe you're right, but it's still all your fault for not just sending out a letter to me,” Scott huffed, pulling fWhip into his lap as revenge.

fWhip glared at him but acot knew he didn't mean it. “You're staying the night, no arguing,” fWhip decided before freeing himself from Scott's hands. “I'll get the kitchen making you something to eat,” he informed and left Scott alone on Grimlands throne.

Scott grinned as he looked at fWhip's back… lower back… He didn't have his cane with him, he thought with a smirk. Maybe he'll point it out later. “Your cane?” He pointed out just as fWhip was about to open the door. Elven king just assumed no one knew fWhip didn't really need it anymore.

And he had to be right as fWhip marched back. Not a word said. Grabbed his cane and walked back. At least he seemed to be in a better mood now that he has eaten.

If on the next meeting anyone asked how Scott got fWhip's attitude fixed, he'd just say ‘charm’. If fWhip didn't want to tell anyone then Scott would play along. Especially if it meant fWhip would bite him again.

#my stuff #my stories #fanfiction #empires smp #empiresshipping #empires fwhip #empires scott #ScfWhip #scwhip

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rhinestoneskye · 1 year

Text

Authentic Love In Figurative Forms

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: angst, misunderstanding, comparing the twins, a little cursing, arguing, mention of alcohol.

Mentioned songs you can listen to while you read:

Scenes From An Italian Restaurant • Billy Joel

New York State Of Mind • Billy Joel

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I never expected one evening to change the course of my future. A man had approached me when I was playing in some hole in the wall bar. He hit on me, told me he was a musician as well, offered to play a few songs with me. Without much thought, we exchanged numbers and names. I learned his was Jake. He was kind, attractive, and musically talented. The man had promised to give me a call. After about a week, we became a duo act in that little bar. Jake joined me on his free nights, always with a smile and a new look with his hair. He brought his own guitar as well, which helped us achieve a fuller sound when it came to the actual music. He occasionally sang a harmony with me, and mocked the light twang in my voice to get the people laughing. He certainly knew how to work the crowd.

Jake covered a beautiful lower harmony, and he did well with finding a key he could sing any verse in. He had a beautiful voice. Raspy but clear. He often told me that performing like this was fun for him, because he got to explore his own musical interests without his own band.

At some point, performing like best friends turned into being best friends. Everything started to come naturally. Jake and I were at each other’s places often. We talked over homemade dinners and long movies. We got to know each other deeper. When he looked into my music, he started offering to perform my real songs with me. Then I got the offer to tour with his own band.

I was on the cusp of saying no. I didn’t want to piggyback off of his success. But when he insisted, and when his brother insisted. I decided to give in.

Despite my attraction to him, I kept my mouth shut for fear of ruining what we had. I made a brilliant friend, and I hoped that would be enough to keep me satisfied. But nothing made me jealous like watching girls scream over him night and night again.

Some evenings came with exhaustion. Others, I could finish a performance and be up for hours. Usually, whatever I did, involved Jake. Before or after a show. The boys were always in varying moods when they finished performing. Danny was possibly the only one who ever wanted to relax consistently. Sometimes Josh was tired, sometimes he wanted a drink. Most nights Jake would want to talk or eat. And Sammy was a little bit of everything.

There were nights, however, when Jake would drag himself onto my bus, and mope along into the back bedroom. Drained from feeling too many emotions, overstimulated from all the noise and sights, and fidgety from anxiety. His body would hurt, his fingers would be sore. He wouldn’t want to do anything other than lay down. Sometimes he cried. Not for any particular reason, but when a night was too much to handle, he preferred to let it out. I never had an issue with holding him, or distracting him in some sense. Despite Josh having been the more emotional twin, deep down, Jake seemed to be the more tender-hearted one. Josh was rambunctious and loving. Jake was quiet and caring.

I had just finished showering when I heard the bus door open. My driver, Kyle, was always so kind to Jake. He liked to give the other boys a hard time when they tried to visit, but Jake was by far Kyle’s favorite. Mostly because the younger twin knew how to win the man’s favor.

“Got your favorite candy bar.” I heard Jake’s voice ring out.

“You’re a good kid, Jakey.” Kyle’s jovial tone made me smile. Some evenings, Jake would carry on a full conversation with him before going to find me, which I knew Kyle appreciated. Sometimes I could be boring, so having someone else to talk to helped him. Especially with being away from his family.

“Can I leave this out here?” I raised a brow at the newness of the conversation.

“Absolutely.” I peeked up from my book, staring the door down and waiting for it to open. When it did, I was met with the sight of a shaggy looking man. Jake’s hair was wet, he wore a pair of sweats and an old tank top with the sides cut out. He kicked his boots off and flashed me a smile.

“Sorry I took so long.” His soft voice had a tint of hoarseness to it. Caused usually when he had to sing louder because Josh got carried away. “Sammy was being an ass about the bathroom.” Jake sauntered over and dropped onto the edge of my bed, laying himself across the bottom and pulling his knees in so his legs didn’t hang off. I set my book aside and nudged his stomach with my foot, earning a quiet laugh in response.

“You feeling okay?”

“Guess so. I’m just tired.”

“Come lay up here.” I tried to tell myself every night that these exchanges were normal, but at some point I came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t. Jake and I weren’t particularly conventional friends, but we never explored any idea other than friendship. So we considered what we had to be just a weird type of relationship. Jake inched his way up the bed, moaning softly as he rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in one of my pillows. He pushed my book away, accidentally knocking it off the bed. I rested a hand on his back, laughing softly.

“Sorry.” His muffled voice amused me.

“It’ll be fine.” I rubbed the space between his shoulder blades and giggled at the string of groans that fell from his lips.

“Show go well?” I asked. Jake turned his head so I could hear him better.

“It was good. My finger started bleeding though. I have to clean my guitar.”

“Did you get it fixed?” I reached for the hand closest to myself, carefully picking it up to see a bandaid on his middle finger.

“Yeah.” His breathy laugh warmed my heart. Our eyes locked for a moment.

“You need to use lotion regularly. It’ll help some.”

“That’s too much work. Then when I wash my hands they’ll just be slimy too.” I giggled and dropped his hand back onto the bed. Jake didn’t seem satisfied by the loss of contact, so he slung his arm around my waist.

“Well aren’t you a genius.” I whispered, awaiting a sarcastic remark or some type of quip in reply. I never got one though, and I peeked down to assure myself he was still awake.

“You hungry?” His voice finally broke the silence.

“I might be able to go for something small. We leave in an hour though, we won’t have time to go out.”

“Don’t worry. I brought stuff in.”

“What do you mean?” I rested my hands atop his arm draped in my lap.

“I got some stuff before the show to cook tonight.” I pondered the idea.

“Homesick?”

“Just a little. And I’m missing that soup you’re so good at making.” He finally picked his head up to flash me an innocent smile. “Thought maybe you could teach me how to make it.” I wondered how I had gone my whole life never finding somebody so sweet.

“I don’t have pots or pans. Or ingredients.”

“I got stuff.”

“Jake.” I shifted to slip out of bed. “How much did you spend?”

“Enough to make soup. Oh! And I got bread.”

“God, you carb-loader.” I teased with an exasperated tone. Jake rolled his eyes, slowly turning to lay on his back. His shirt rode up slightly, and I couldn’t help but lean over the bed and trail my fingers against his side, earning an immediate giggle. Jake shoved my hand away and slowly sat up to follow me out of bed.

“I don’t like being tickled.” He protested as I led him out of the bedroom toward the kitchen area in the middle of the bus. Due to the vehicle being set up for one, there was sufficient space for a kitchen and a larger lounge. Nothing beat having the whole place to myself with so much space to spread out.

“Yeah yeah,” I spoke in a playfully sarcastic tone. He glared at me.

“There’s one thing homemade soup can’t exist without.” I began as Jake snatched up the grocery bags full of ingredients. At first I questioned how he knew what all to get, but then I remembered how he’d begged for the recipe the first time I had made it.

“Billy Joel.” Jake answered with a delighted smile. I’d given him this lecture before. I slid my phone from the pocket of my shorts, setting it on the empty countertop and finding my old Joel playlist. I hit shuffle before turning back to Jake.

“Let’s get these bags unpacked.” We worked on emptying the grocery bags together. I showed him the most effective way to lay things out. Then he helped me wash the store bought pans and bowls. We dried everything off before we wandered back across the empty space between counters.

“Start cutting the onions, yeah?” I suggested, searching for a knife in one of the many drawers before I found one. I handed it over.

“Dicing?” He eyed me with curiosity.

“Yeah. Little squares. So the flavor is more balanced.” I stopped what I was doing to step up beside him. I peeled the skin off the first onion before I grabbed his hands, showing him the best way to hold the vegetable while I guided his other hand in cutting it. He nodded. I knew Jake well enough to fully understand he didn’t need help, but I was incredibly particular about homemade soups. And it was an excuse to touch him.

“Bottle of red.” Jake and I both winced at the sound of Kyle’s taunting voice from the front of the bus. He could hear the music plain as day. “Bottle of white!” The man sang louder. I made eye contact with Jake before we both started giggling.

“I don’t know how you do it with this guy.” Jake joked softly.

“He’s a sweetheart and you know it.” I bumped my hip against his own before I prepped the area next to him to begin dicing peppers. “Speaking of wine.” I grabbed a second knife for myself. “I might have a bottle stored away we can open.”

“God, I love you.” It was a thoughtless statement. I told myself so, but I doubted that when our eyes trailed to meet one another. Jake bit his lower lip. My eyes dropped when they noticed the movement.

“Listen,” Jake began.

“Jacob.” I had cut him off.

“Things are okay with me these days!” Jake and I jolted when Kyle screeched out the lyrics of the song. Awkward chuckles followed. I shook my head at the absurdity of my previous thoughts. Jake only said he loved me because I had alcohol. He meant nothing more. His eyes remained on me as I looked away, but with a gesture toward the onion on the counter in front of him, I reminded him of the job he had to do.

“My sweet romantic teenage nights.” Jake whispered the lyrics sarcastically, alluding to our own evening being thrown off by Kyle. Though I wouldn’t consider it romantic. Unless it was. I did a double take, prepared to ask what he meant, but Jake’s eyes were already back on the cutting board. We were a confusing pair. Friends, but he and I always seemed to tamper with the idea of something more. Yet with Jake, somewhere in his own world, he never seemed completely comfortable with the idea of committing. Or maybe it was something else. I could never tell.

“I’m gonna go boil that water.” I informed him before I slipped off to turn the stove on. Cooking on a tour bus was one thing, but soup was a whole other matter. I wanted to get it finished before we actually started moving.

“You got a song on there Kyle doesn’t know?” Jake asked, turning to look across the way at me. I laughed and reached for my phone, skipping to the next song.

“He hears Joel a lot. I’m sure he knows every song word for word.” I informed the younger twin as I joined his side once again, cutting vegetables.

“That’s disappointing.” Jake’s eyes met my own, searching the validation he certainly received when his response made me laugh.

“When you’re done with that onion, they can go in this bowl.” I reached for the glass bowl on the opposite side of the counter, placing it between us. “We just need one chopped up. I only add extra if the flavor isn’t strong enough.”

“Right.” Jake’s brow narrowed before he jerked his head, trying to clear his hair from his sight. I took note of the action before I slipped back into my bedroom to grab a ponytail. When I returned, I nudged him before presenting the object.

“Oh. Thanks.” He stepped away to pull back the top section of his hair, the braids he had on the underlying sections ever present. And his silver earrings peeks out as well. I could have swooned at his appearance. When we finished fixing the first two vegetables, we scraped everything into the glass bowl between us, then repeated the process with the other ingredients needed. We worked in a comfortable silence, occasionally broken by Jake or I to sing a lyric or hum along to the music. By the time we had everything cut up, the water on the stove was boiling. I added a few spices to the ingredients before I guided Jake to the stove, pouring everything into the pot carefully, and requesting a wooden spoon. I set the lid on the pot and instructed Jake to set the spoon by the stovetop.

“What do we do now?” The brunette questioned as he set the spoon aside, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Relax and wait.”

“What about the bread?”

“We can wait to cut it.” I waved a hand dismissively, drifting away into my own world as I zoned into the familiar piano chords of New York State Of Mind.

“What about that wine?”

“Don’t rush it. You pour the wine too soon and it’ll be room temperature before the soup is ready.” I brought myself back to reality, glancing up at Jake. His lips turned upward into a smile, apologetic and bashful. Embarrassed to have been turned down twice. He loved cooking. Josh told me he used to binge the shows for hours, but he didn’t have the timing quite right.

“So we just stand here?”

“You need a way to keep busy?”

“Guess that post-show energy is coming back.” He joked with a soft chuckle. Jake crossed the walkway and leaned back against the opposing counter from where I stood. We eyed each other.

“You wanna dance?” I offered, pushing off the counter and holding my hand out. Jake barely hesitated to nod, sliding his hand into my own. His free hand found its home wrapped around my waist, and I rested my other arm comfortably over Jake’s shoulder. He flashed me a charming smile as we began to sway. I leaned into his embrace, welcomed by the feeling of his arm wrapping tighter around my waist as I rested my head against his chest.

“I know what I’m needing. And I don’t wanna waste more time…” I released a relaxed sigh at the sound of Jake’s soft voice. He could have sung to me all evening and I wouldn’t have minded one bit.

“Keep going.” I whispered, breathing in his scent. Everything about Jake had always been comforting. He felt like home. In a way I couldn’t describe. Jake was never one to deny my requests. As we swayed, he sang as soft as ever, resting his chin atop my head. As much as I loved composing with Jake, I also loved being able to sit and listen to him. His music, his voice, his thought process on writing.

“You’re beautiful.” Jake whispered, almost too quiet to hear. I lifted my head to look at him.

“You’re okay lookin’ too.” I never wanted to take any of his compliments too seriously, but I could tell by Jake’s feigned amusement, that he was trying to have a serious moment. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.

“Please listen to me.” He dipped his head to the height of my own, peering into my eyes. “You’re beautiful.” I was certain I was flushed, but beneath the dim warm glow of the tour bus lights, I was hopeful he couldn’t see. His stare felt like a captivating spotlight I didn’t wish to be under.

“Jake..”

“I just wanted you to know that.” Jake glanced away. “People don’t tell you enough. You deserve more love.” I found myself speechless, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t ruin the moment, but I’d always been a joke maker under pressure.

“You sound like Josh, going on about love.” I wanted to hit myself for the stupid comment. Jake winced the moment Josh was mentioned. I’d struck a nerve that neither of the twins enjoyed.

“I don’t wanna be Josh.” He persisted, gaze set on my eyes. I sighed softly, playing with the ends of his hair just behind his neck.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I rushed out. “What’s on your mind?” I moved my arm from his shoulder, rubbing my hand down his arm.

“Nothing.” I couldn’t tell if my avoidance made him give up, or if he truly just wanted to compliment me. But at this point I knew there had to be more on his mind.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? We won’t talk about Josh.”

“It’s fine.” Jake pulled away. I had ruined our moment.

“Jake, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I reached for his hand.

“I’m not upset!” I didn’t flinch at the volume of his voice, but it did surprise me.

“You good back there?” Kyle called. Ever protective of me. It warmed my heart in the cold moment.

“Yeah, Kyle!” I shouted back. Jake glanced down at his feet.

“You always do this.” I couldn’t make out the sound in his voice. Hurt. Something I wasn’t used to. He stepped back to create space between us. Another thing I wasn’t used to.

“Do what?” My brow furrowed, folding my arms across my chest.

“You avoid me.” I couldn’t understand. I had never once avoided Jake in any way. I was always excited to be around him. If anything, he’d always been the one avoiding. Shying away from possibilities. Opportunities. A more meaningful relationship where we didn’t have to hide our feelings.

“What?”

“You act like you care, and the minute we get close-“

“Jake!” A loud and obnoxious banging immediately interrupted our conversation. Jake’s hands clenched into fists. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

“It’s Josh.” I mumbled, stepping past him. It was the second mistake I had made. Abandoning our argument for his brother. But if Josh had truly needed something, I didn’t want to leave him outside.

“It’s always Josh!” Jake shouted, in an accusatory tone. I stopped to look back at him, my eyes set in a deep glare.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

“Maybe you just settle for me because he doesn’t like you!” I couldn’t believe the words that fell from his lips.

“Jake!” Josh’s shouting became background noise. As did Kyle scolding the older twin for banging on the bus door while he wasn’t being let in.

“You always fucking mention Josh when I’m around! You compare me to him! You tell me when I sound like him! It’s like you have a thing for him!”

A dangerous fire burned in my chest. I clenched my jaw. Stay silent in the moments when your words will only hurt somebody. But why hold back when they hurt you first? Jake had to have been playing some stupid game. He’d treat me like the love of his life only to back out every time. He wasn’t worth all this hassle. He wasn’t worth the wait. I couldn’t continue playing this game.

“Well at least having a thing for Josh would mean more than having a thing for somebody who’s so morbid all the time! I’d have more of a chance with somebody who loves everything compared to somebody who loves nothing at all!” I spat, and I refused to let myself feel the pit of remorse when Jake’s whole expression fell. I had never stooped so low. Jake loved things, but he was cautious with his love. Josh threw it out for the world to crumble up and throw away. He never cared. Jake was different. Jake placed his love in things that he trusted. He’d wrap it like a delicate cup and gift it to someone or something with a card that said, ‘be gentle.’ I opened my mouth to speak, but Jake had finally gained enough confidence to move. He pushed past me and walked toward the front of the bus. I followed him, but I realized Kyle was no longer on my side when he opened the bus door for Jake, who shoved right past his brother and left. Josh and I shared a look.

“What happened?”

I finally felt the tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I didn’t mean it.” Josh’s expression morphed into one of offense. Like he could somehow feel his brother’s grief. He took a step back, opened his mouth to speak, and for the first time, was at a loss for words.

“Please tell him I’m sorry.” I reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes. Josh gave an absent minded nod before he walked off to follow his brother.

I spared Kyle a shameful look as he closed the bus door. I felt my heart break, but I wondered if I even had the right to feel such pain. I knew deep down, I had been more in the wrong than he was.

Jake and I didn’t speak for days. Three shows to be exact. Josh came around before the second, and we did discuss the situation at length in my dressing room.

“You guys should really talk.” His voice broke me from my thoughts as I applied my eyeshadow.

“He hates me.”

“Maybe… sure.” Josh’s agreement hurt. “But if you both explain your sides of the story there’s a chance he won’t be as mad.”

“I don’t know.” I lowered the powder brush from my eye. “I didn’t know that saying he sounded like you was such a bad thing.”

“When he’s talking about his feelings it is. We’ve been connected our entire lives. Individuality is scarce to us. One of those places he craves it is in his personal life, with people we both aren’t close with. He doesn’t want his emotions to be compared to mine.” I sighed.

“That makes sense.. it’s just hard when all you ever do is express love.”

“When he’s ready, he won’t express it like I do. Jake’s love isn’t always shown in such literal words. His authentic love comes in figurative forms. Jake’s always been mysterious like that.” I looked up at Josh.

“I did tell him that you were sorry though. I told him that you were just upset, and that what he said is what prompted you to bite back. He understands that much. He just hates the idea of you thinking he doesn’t love anything. He never wanted to come off as loveless.” I felt my heart clench again. The same way it had when he stormed off my bus.

“Jake loves in silence. He admires and whispers his adoration in the dead of night. He likes that privacy. Of people not knowing what he’s truly passionate about unless he chooses to share.”

“When do you think I should talk to him?” I glanced at myself in the mirror. Then at Josh, fiddling with one of his gold necklaces.

“We have two days off soon.”

“Free time.” I commented. Time we always filled together.

“He’ll be bored without you.”

I let the idea sit in my mind after Josh had left. I gave it a few days. We played our last show, and the only contact Jake and I had was when I found his missing pick in an arena hallway. I’d gone to give it back to him only to find the boys all laughing and joking around together in Josh’s dressing room. Jake and I shared glances before he looked away. So I had given the pick to Josh. I didn’t know where we stood, but I owed it to him to explain my side. To at least try to mend the wounds I’d caused.

We travelled to the next city before our two day break. I didn’t know what any of the boys planned on doing, other than Jake. Josh had told me his twin wanted to go visit an art gallery.

“Just catch him before he leaves.” He’d suggested, but I didn’t think I had it in me.

Not until I was stepping off my tour bus around the time Jake intended to leave. After five minutes of waiting, I reminded myself that the Kiszka boys were always chronically late, so I sat on the bottom step of the bus and waited. I scrolled through social media on my phone, pondered what I might say. Tried my best to think of a good heartfelt apology. Then I heard the adjacent bus door open. My eyes lifted to see Jake in jeans and a flowy button down t-shirt. He’d stopped to look at me. All of my ideas flew out the window.

“What are you doing out here?” I flinched at the disinterest in his tone.

“Waiting for you, actually.” I slowly stood up.

“I’m going alone.”

“I didn’t ask to go.” I clarified, effectively keeping his attention. “I just want to talk.” The sigh that left his lips made my anger flare, but I kept it in check this time.

“Fine. What?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.. it just came out wrong.”

“Came out wrong?” Jake glared.

“Yes. The last thing I expected you to do was accuse me of loving your brother.”

“Well when all you ever do is compare me to him, I feel like you do like him. Or you just don’t like me.”

“Don’t cut me off, Jake.” I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. “I blew up on you because I felt like shit. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to make a move? Only to have you accuse me of liking your brother?” His anger seemed to fade slightly. His shoulders dropped, and he fidgeted with the rings on his fingers.

“Every time I try to make a move you bring up Josh.” The anger had completely dissolved into hurt. I wanted to hold him. I wished deep down that we had never fought, but I knew my lucky stars weren’t that magical.

“Because every time you made a move before you’d back out of it.” I countered. Jake fell silent. “And I’m sorry I did that so much. You and Josh have your own personalities. I never meant to make you feel like him.. or second best to him. You’re still my favorite twin.”

“But I don’t love like he does.” Jake sounded so persistent to get his point across. I wanted to make him feel understood.

“I know..” I mumbled, guilt laced in my tone.

“I don’t want to remind you of Josh every time I say I love something.”

My heart would have started racing if not for the tense moment we shared.

“Look.. Jake.” I hesitated before taking a step toward him. He didn’t move. I took another step. “I didn’t fall for Josh. I didn’t fall for Sam, or Danny. Bless his awkward heart.” I paused when I noticed the way his lips twitched. “I didn’t fall for anybody other than you. Because of your uniqueness. Because you intrigue me.” I rested my hand on his forearm. Jake shifted, glancing down at my hand. “I never would have come on this crazy trip if we weren’t so close. If I didn’t love you, and your music. Hell, you inspire me to write all the time. You’re the most beautiful muse I know.” I slid my hand up his arm, beneath the linen fabric of his short shirt sleeve.

“I’m sorry.” Jake whispered as he looked away. “I shouldn’t have accused you of loving Josh.” Rejection in its finest forms. Or at least that’s what it felt like. I pulled back and immediately hugged myself, an awkward tension filling my body.

“It’s okay..” the apology was appreciated, but the timing was off. I’d just spilled my heart for him and I got nothing in return aside from an apology. I glanced back at my bus door, thinking it best to go. Perhaps I had read the situation wrong, but it all felt off. I wondered if Jake was avoiding me again. Avoiding my feelings. He still wasn’t ready, and I should have known.

“I’m gonna go.” I glanced back at him, watching him nod. I turned away and started toward my bus, tears clouding my eyes. I should have known.

“You make me golden.” I turned back to him, brow furrowed in confusion. I sniffed and immediately wiped my eyes. Jake looked both relieved and exhausted. I couldn’t read the other emotion on his face.

“Huh?” My voice broke.

“You’re the last hour before sunset, and the first after sunrise. Your presence has this captivating aura, that has the most beautiful golden hue. And I love nothing more than to bask in that light every day.”Jake crossed the concrete between our busses, and raised a hand to rest upon my cheek. “I count it a blessing to be so close to you. Sometimes that light can be blinding, but I’d never mind being overshadowed by you, or your success.” Josh had been right. When Jake was ready, he’d express his love the way he was meant to. In the dead of night, between two trailers, quietly and passionately. Figuratively.

I shifted my weight slightly, a part of me fearful that he would back out again, but the determination in Jake’s eyes seemed far from it as he looked over my face. I could feel his emotion. He’d waited a long time for this. His hand moved lower to cup my jaw, his lips forming a slight pout as the gears in his head turned.

“Jake, I’m really sorry about what happened. It’s always been you, I’ve always loved you.” His wandering eyes flickered to meet my own. I held my hands out to rest upon his cheeks, our bodies pulling closer.

“I love you too, and I’m sorry I never said it sooner. I was just afraid.” Afraid that I had liked Josh. Afraid that he’d been picking up the wrong signals. Jake’s response came in a chaste whisper, rushed as he leaned forward to connect our lips. I gasped before melting into him. I wrapped one arm around his shoulders, my hand pressed against the back of his neck while my other hand pushed his hair from his face. Jake slung an arm around my midsection, arching my body into his own as he leaned forward.

I was breathless by the time he pulled away, my heart heavy and yet full at the same time.

“I never meant to hurt you.” Jake whispered, leaning in to rest his forehead against my own. “I was just afraid.” The repetition made me nod. Jake wanted to know that he had been heard.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that.” I gently squeezed the back of his neck. “I promise I never will again.”

“God I love you.” I giggled at the breathless tone he took up.

“You already said that,” I teased, pulling back.

“For as long as we live, it’ll be the only sentiment you ever hear from my lips.” I could have swooned. “I love you. You’re my girl. I can’t imagine life without you.” He listed off the various statements as his hand fell away from my face to wrap around my back.

“This might be the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” The playful shock in his features caused us both to laugh quietly.

“Consider yourself lucky. I only talk this much around people I’m really comfortable with.” It was reassuring to know I hadn’t hurt him to the point that he couldn’t trust me.

I playfully pushed his chest, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Kiszka.” I reached behind myself to grab one of his hands, pulling it from around my body. I peered at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as best as I could in the darkness before I looked back at him. “You have a date with an art gallery. You’re gonna be late soon.” In true Kiszka fashion, there was no panic when the word ‘late’ was mentioned. Jake merely shrugged and smiled.

“You wanna come with me?”

“Oh? So now I get the invite?” I raised a brow.

“Well.. I was mad at you before,” Jake answered in a playful tone. “But you can come now.”

“I’m not dressed for it.” I dropped his hand and shrugged. “But thanks for the invite anyway.”

“Then I’ll stay in with you.” I shook my head at his immediate change of plans.

“Go look at art. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“We won’t be late if you get ready quickly.” He insisted. “I want you to go with me.”

I stepped back toward my bus. Did I even have nice clothes packed for such an event? I probably did, I just hadn’t touched them since we started our tour.

“Fifteen minutes?” I asked. I could pull my hair back and put on a light layer of makeup. Something to get me through the night.

“Fifteen.” Jake nodded, a bright smile forming on his lips.

“Okay.. I’ll be back.” I immediately turned and walked back into my bus.

Fifteen minutes pushed well into twenty before we actually left, but Jake and I weren’t bothered by it.

We started the night side by side admiring beautiful landscapes and all kinds of photos. Some art we shook our heads at. Other pieces we stared at silently for what felt like hours.

A lot of our evening was spent holding hands, huddled into one another, laughing and giggling like kids. By the time we left, Jake and I had already made plans to finish the evening in my bus, making up for the one we’d horribly ruined before. And this time, Jake promised to tell Josh not to bother us.

#danny wagner #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fluff #greta van angst #sam kiszka #jake kiszka x reader

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lynnbeth5172 · 11 months

Text

Stitched up Love pt2

Chapter two:

It was quiet in the twins playroom, say for the

occasional babble of small Maelor. And the rantings of Princess Helaena, Isla was busy measuring the twins in order to sew for them. They were curious little things, with little prince Jaehaerys asking where she came from and princess Jaehaera asking if she had siblings.

“I do, I have two sisters and a little brother…such as you both.” She smiled at the little princess as she measured her arms, the girl smiled and looked at her mother. Who had a small ladybug on her finger as she talked to herself.

“What are their names?” This time the little prince asked the question, seemingly forgetting the question he asked earlier.

“Verna, Maude, Lukas.” She gave a small nod to the prince and continued measuring Princess Jaehaera.

“How long will this take?” The small princess wriggled her fingers and looked as if she wished she could be anywhere but here.

“Only a few more moments, dear.” Princess Helaena smiled at her daughter kindly as she looked up from the ladybug in her hands.

After Isla was finished with measuring the small Princess, she then did Prince Jaehaerys. Measuring his arms while he asked more questions about herself, in turn she did the same.

“Do you have a mother and father?” She froze a bit, how did she say?

“I do…they're a long way from home, but they’ll come back.” A lie, her father will never come back. Only to bother them for whatever, his stuff mostly. Their mother was kind but sickly, at that point; mother had become so thin that she was practically just bone, a skeleton that’s covered in flimsy flesh.

Her face has hollowed out and now Isla’s little brother is scared to look at her, saying she looked “scary”.

“Why are they gone?” Little Jaehaerys looked down at her as she crouched down to measure his waist, his little fingers wiggling as he became slightly bored of having to stand still.

Isla closed her eyes and opened before giving the boy a small smile.

“They went to look for adventure,” another lie. Well not really, if you count a father going to the brothel late at night. She remembered when he’d leave, her sister Verna asked if she could go but their father simply chuckled and shook his head as kissed her forehead.

‘You’re too young but maybe when you’re older you’d be able to go.’ Verna was twelve and Isla was ten, now that they were twenty and seventeen respectively. They knew that he won’t come back, not after Maude and Isla had snuck out and had a peak of their father’s doings. They hadn’t expected a woman that wasn’t their mother in his lap, kissing his neck and lips while he groped her.

Isla and Maude had run home and were so shocked from what they saw, they didn’t know and were scared to tell their mother.

She then measured his knee line, quietly as the small Prince talked to his sister. Talking about how big their dragon’s would get when older.

“Morghul will be faster than Skyros, right muñnykeā?”

“No! Skyros will be, he’ll be faster than any dragon.”

Prince Jaehaerys looked to his sister and glared at her in the most intimidating way a five year old could. Isla stifled her laugh as their small banter reminded her of her own siblings, she vaguely remembered her sister, Maude and brother Lukas arguing over who’d feed their mother her food.

When she finished she got up from her crouching position, she gave a small smile and curtsy to Princess Helaena before leaving.

The halls were empty, say for the occasional guard. Sound of metal came from the training yards, she looked down to see Prince Aemond sparring with one of the kingsguard.

As he turned and dodged the knight’s moves, she smiled and wondered if he had always been a master at fighting.

She watched them more till Prince Aemond was able to get a jab in at the other man, the man gave the Prince a small smile and in return the Prince gave a nod.

Prince Aemond then looked up as he wiped sweat from his brow, meeting her gaze. Isla gave him a small smile and nod before leaving to do the Queen’s measurements.

——————————————————————————————-

Isla made it to the small chamber that she attained, it wasn’t as big as the other royals and it wasn’t luxurious. With it only having a fireplace and a simple thin mattress bed that she stitched on.

Usually her thoughts would wander to other things, causing her to prick her finger.

So when her thoughts wandered to Prince Aemond, she pricked her finger and hissed at the pain. She put her finger which had a beaded blood in her mouth, soothing the pain.

She held up the fabric she was using to sew Queen Alicent’s gown, it was a nice shade of green. She wondered if the Queen wore any other color, maybe blue. She’d look nice in blue.

Isla rested her head back and looked back to her sewing, stitching till she became tired and put the fabric on a table she had cleaned, going back to her thin mattress and closing her eyes; thinking of Prince Aemond in the training yard again before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

————————————————————————————

I’m so sorry it took so long to do this, I’m doing a lot of things and so it’s sorta hectic. I like this chapter tbh, if you didn’t then that’s okay.

Amy💚

#aemond one eye #Seamstress character #aemond targaryen x oc

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tennessoui · 2 years

Note

I feel like this is a big ask, but 1. welcome back! 2. can you ever see KUWSK going angsty? Not permanently or anything, but what would a KUWSK obikin disagreement look like?

yes thank you for welcoming me back a month and a half ago i'm a bit trash to be so late on this but!! here is about 2k of a more serious fight between anakin and obi-wan.

(2k)

“You’re talking to your ex,” Anakin says. It’s the tone of voice he uses on work calls when he’s absolutely furious but trying to remain professional. Obi-Wan has never heard it directed at him before. He almost doesn’t recognize it.

“Casually,” he stresses. “We’re…casually speaking.”

“Casually,” Anakin echoes in that same voice. Obi-Wan is starting to think he’s done something incredibly wrong.

“She messaged me,” he stresses, feeling as if this is an important fact. “I didn’t reach out to her.”

“But you reached back!” Anakin says loudly, putting the spoon on its rest a touch too forcefully. “And then you didn’t even tell me!”

“I thought it was a non-issue!” Obi-Wan protests. “I don’t tell you when I talk to the woman at the supermarket checkout line!”

“Keep Francesca out of this,” Anakin cuts through the air with the side of his hand as he spins around to open their spice cabinet. “You know full well that’s different.”

“She flirts with me at the store, and you’re fine with it!” Obi-Wan quite completely feels like tearing out his hair. He can’t believe they’re having this conversation. He can’t believe his own fortune, that he’d pulled up a picture mid-playful argument with Anakin over what the twins had dressed as for Halloween when they were five, and he’d shown it to his partner at the exact moment that Satine ex-Kenobi had texted him, replying to something he'd sent a week ago.

That had pretty much ended the playful part of their argument.

“Yeah, and it’s not the fucking same, Obi-Wan,” Anakin responds, shaking a bit of salt aggressively into the stew. “You were never fucking married to fucking Francesca.”

“Anakin—”

“And by the way,” Anakin snaps, trading the salt for cayenne pepper and seasoning it liberally. “Implying that your ex-wife is also flirting with you over texts you did not tell me about is not the best strategy, Professor.”

The worst part is that he’s not even looking at him anymore, scowling instead into the contents of the heavy pot.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan tries, because he’s not listening, he’s just reacting. Of course Obi-Wan knows Francesca and Satine aren’t really the same thing, but they mean the same thing to him. One slips him free red bell peppers sometimes by ringing them up as green ones with a wink and a quirk of her lips. The other is his ex-wife.

But neither of them is Anakin, and so they mean the same thing to him. He doesn’t love them. He can’t even pay them the slightest modicum of his attention, because he’s too wrapped up in and around and going crazy over this man who’s petty enough to have absolutely just ruined Obi-Wan’s dinner on purpose by adding too much spice to the stew Obi-Wan had requested.

“Anakin, I think we need to take a step back from this,” he finally gets out when his partner is distracted by opening and closing the cabinet doors, ostensibly looking for the bowls even though he’d been the one to reorganize the dishes in the first place, years ago, and he’s never not known where something is.

“I think I’m going to sleep in my room tonight,” Anakin replies in an icy voice. “I think you might be right.”

“What? Darling, no—Anakin, love, it’s—casual cannot even come close to describing the texts, you can read them if you want, there’s nothing there—“

“Daddy? Obi?” Luke asks from the kitchen doorway. He’s peering around it, little face looking horrified. Obi-Wan freezes. How loud had they been? Luke and Leia are seven now, they remember these things, they have questions—“Is dinner ready? Obi?”

Leia’s face joins the same pale ghost of her brother’s, and Obi-Wan feels awful. Absolutely terrible, but the sort of terrible he doesn’t know what to do with. The twins heard them arguing, they were practically shouting at each other, Anakin is planning to sleep in a different room, Anakin didn’t even call it a guest room, he called it his room even though they’ve been together for—for a year and a bit now—and isn’t that devastating? My room, Anakin had said. Does he not understand everything Obi-Wan owns is his as well? Does he…does he not want it?

“Almost,” Anakin replies. He sounds so forcefully happy that it’s manic. It comes across much too fake, and Obi-Wan can feel the way Luke immediately distrusts the word, the expression. “I just realized I forgot something at the store though! We need bread! We can’t have the stew without bread.”

Anakin nods once to himself as he says this, shooting Obi-Wan a very quick glance before his eyes snag on the phone on the counter between them and he looks away as if incredibly pained, hands ghosting down to the pockets of his jeans to check for his keys.

Obi-Wan thinks it would really actually kill a part of him to watch Anakin drive away on his bike right now. Not to mention the twins.

Oh, the twins.

This had been why they were so hesitant in the first place, to bite the bullet, to kiss and mean it and remember it and lean in again. Their relationship affects the twins, and as much as Obi-Wan loves Anakin, he’d been so worried about even accidentally causing the kids distress.

He thinks seeing their father leave when they can tell something is wrong would be devastating.

“I’ll go,” Obi-Wan says, putting a hand flat on the counter, pocketing the phone, and fighting the urge to glare at Anakin because the other man should know—should think—but this Anakin is almost a stranger to him, all clenched jaw and shaking hands and it’s just a text—it sort of makes him mad as well, angry that it hurts so much, that Anakin doesn’t trust him. They’ve known each other going on three years, their entire lives were intertwined almost immediately. “Give me the keys.”

“Yeah, right,” Anakin scoffs, shoulders tense and unyielding. “To the bike?”

“No, dumb—” he cuts himself off because he’s too old to be namecalling, especially around little ears. “The keys to the car are behind you. On their hook. Can you hand them to me?” He doesn’t think he should get within a few feet of Anakin right now. Not for fear of violence–either from him or from his partner—but because it just—it doesn’t seem like a good idea. Not when they need bread.

“Should I leave my phone?” He can’t help but ask acidly.

“I don’t know,” Anakin shoots back with deadly accuracy, slinging the keys across the countertop hard enough that they spin out of control and Obi-Wan has to stoop to catch them “Should you?”

Obi-Wan turns and gets to the mouth of the kitchen without another word. He debates his actions, his emotions, for a second’s pause before he puts his phone on the countertop and sweeps out into the entryway and then just as quickly out of the house all together.

He can’t go far. The Skywalkers have made him incapable of it. He’ll go to the store. He’ll get Anakin his fucking bread, which really means he’ll give Anakin space to think, and he’ll take his own space to think, and then he’ll come back because it’s Anakin, it’s Anakin and it’s his family, and he thinks this is the stupidest fight in the entire goddamn world because doesn’t Anakin know how much he can’t love anyone else? Doesn’t he know that if Satine were to turn up on his doorstep tomorrow and ask for him to unsign the divorce papers, he wouldn’t even consider it?

Doesn’t he know—

“Obi?” Leia’s voice says at the same time there’s a hesitant tug on the edge of his shirt. He turns around and looks down at the girl. “Where are you going, Obi?”

“Your father wants bread for dinner,” he tells her. “So I’m going out to get bread. For dinner.”

“Oh,” Leia bites her lip before looking back behind her at the open door of the house. “Luke wants to know if you’re gonna come back, Obi.”

Since she turned seven, Leia has had trouble admitting when she wants to know something. She finds it so much easier to pretend she’s her brother’s spokesperson. “Daddy, Luke wants to know if the dog dies in the movie.” “Obi, Luke wants to know if we have to go to the barbecue, only cause Johnny is going to be there, and Luke really doesn’t like him.”

“Leia love,” Obi-Wan crouches down to look at her completely. “Of course I’m coming back. We need bread, darling.”

“I don’t want bread,” she snaps, sounding suddenly so very much like her father. “I want you.”

“Leia,” Obi-Wan pauses, smoothing his hand over the top of her hair carefully. He needs to soothe her, because he and Anakin had been so out of line earlier, fighting where the children could hear and now look what it’s done to them.

“Obi,” Luke trots out of the house before he can figure out what to say to her. “Obi, you should take this,” he holds something up and presses it into unresisting hands. “If daddy needs to keep your phone, you can have mine. Just in case you wanna talk to us while you’re gone.”

It’s the plastic, bulky flip phone that’d come in a kit of kid’s toys a Christmas ago. Smiley faces instead of buttons, but it made sounds when you hit it. Luke had been obsessed with it from the beginning.

Obi-Wan looks down at the phone and feels the very absurd urge to cry. “Loves,” he whispers, pulling Leia into his side. “Oh—”

He remembers thinking once when he’d just been given the Skywalkers, that first time he’d been asked to sit beside Luke’s bed until he fell asleep, that for children, love was about staying.

How can he possibly leave them now? When he loves them so much as well? When his love never grew out of that child’s wish for someone to stroke his hair as he dozed?

“Oh, alright, Luke, Leia,” he says, standing with only a bit of a wince because he’s getting so very old and Leia has thrown her arms around his neck unexpectedly so he rises with the weight of a child attached to him. “If your daddy wants bread, then let’s get him bread.”

“Road trip?” Leia asks with excitement.

“Better,” Obi-Wan promises, letting Luke grab onto his hand. “Science experiment.”

#asks #kuwsk #what follows is the most aggressive and disastrous breadmaking experiment in the world #like the twins are all eager to help mostly to spend time with obi-wan and make sure he doesen't try to leave or something #but then they get bored #because both daddy and obi aren't doing anything more than politely making conversation #as obi makes a huge mess of the kitchen and anakin refuses to help #meanwhile the adults have entered all out warfare #obi-wan asks anakin where he keeps the flour #and anakin is like it's probably the same place it was when satine lived here in this house with you #(it's not)#(also i know canon kuwsk on tumblr had them married after a few months of being romantically involved)#(but im retconning tht because it's funnier and more dramatic if they aren't)#(and they get married when the twins areeeee 8 or 9 or something)#(so two guesses what anakin is insecure about here)#(yes i'll put this on ao3 and actually have the conclusion of the fight + the angry passive aaggressive snippy breadmaking scene)#(that turns back into quiet arguing when the twins get bored and go back to the living room to play)#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi

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sugawarassoulmate · 3 years

Note

osamu x bad boy 🍑?

The way im obsessed with this man actually,,

Congratulations for 3k!!!! 🎉👏

sorry for the wait 🥺 kinda based it off this ask i did a bit ago!

words: 993

cw: fem!reader, fingering, dubcon, bully!osamu, name-calling, minors dni

for as long as you could remember, atsumu warned you to steer clear of his brother. osamu, he was as nasty as they come and nobody knew that better than you. how could you forget all the hair pulling or bruises from getting shoved off of bikes and scooters? as much as you tried to stay away from him, osamu always seemed to find you.

that’s probably how you ended up in this situation.

osamu had interrupted the movie night you and atsumu had planned for days—he plopped himself on the couch, knee brushing against yours, completely taking up the rest of the space. atsumu rolled his eyes, muttering in your ear to “ignore him” while the movie kept playing.

usually that was easier said than done, osamu loves to make his presence known. but today he seemed to be on his best behavior. he wasn’t shifting around in his seat every five minutes or bickering with his brother over his stupid comments about the movie. he sat perfectly still, keeping his hands mostly to himself.

except for the hand gripping your thigh.

atsumu was too busy babbling about how iron man was obviously better than captain america to take notice of what his brother was doing underneath the blanket. you tried to remember his words “ignore him” but that only seemed to egg osamu on further.

you can feel his fingers traveling up your inner thigh, lightly scratching at the sensitive skin. instinctively, your legs tense up and clamp around his rough hand. pushing him away won’t do much, so you let him play with you a bit and hope that he’ll get bored and go upstairs.

but it’s never that easy with him and osamu’s hand easily finds itself slipped underneath the waistband of your shorts. your head shoots up, turning in osamu’s direction but he pays you no mind. his hand cups your pussy like it’s normal thing for him to do. you can feel your face heating up, squirming between the two boys.

“ya good, y/n? we can watch somethin’ else,” atsumu said, noticing how quiet you had become. you hands immediately go in your lap, hoping that he won’t catch what his brother is doing. but damn them and their weird twin telepathy, he definitely senses something is off. “is he botherin’ you again?”

“no one’s botherin’ anyone, worry about yerself, dumbass.” osamu snaps back, eyes still on the screen.

you could tell atsumu was ready to argue back but you gave him a small smile to quell his anger. “i’m fine, let’s keep watching,” atsumu’s mood doesn’t falter but your words seem to do enough to settle him back into his seat. his phone starts buzzing and he groans after seeing the words on the screen.

“ah shit, kita-san’s callin’, i’ll be right back,” he grumbles, brown eyes flicking at his brother. “tell me if he starts some shit.” atsumu warns before stepping out of the room. it only takes osamu, impatient as ever, a few moments alone with you before he has you pinned to the couch, calloused fingers bullying their way into your cunt.

“yer not as tight as before,” he says, tugging down your shorts and leaving your entire bottom half bare for him. “ya gettin’ used to me touchin’ ya like this? such a dirty fuckin’ girl, what would my brother say, huh?”

atsumu was the last person on your mind, his warnings to “stay away” from his brother meant nothing when osamu’s hands were on you. “samu, he could come back any second…” but you’re making no effort to stop him, grinding against osamu’s hand and gasping into the couch cushion.

“let me worry about that, idiot. just focus on gettin’ off without makin’ too much noise,” he grunts against your ear, palm teasing your clit as he hovers on top of you. you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, the sound your cunt makes as your walls constrict around osamu’s fingers or the way his eyes never leave your body, taking note of all your small movements.

“didn’t even try to stop me and now yer humpin’ my hand like a bitch in heat,” osamu plants a messy kiss on your lips, a string of spit connecting the two of you when he pulls away. “gonna cum around my hand when ya know ya shouldn’t even be talkin’ to me. what a bad girl.”

he’s got three fingers rearranging your insides how, with no care to be gentle but your cunt welcomes them so hungrily. osamu’s right, it’s so bad, you should’ve tried harder to stop him but instead you wanted him to touch you more. how would his lips feel on your neck, your chest? how would his cock feel stretching you out for the first time?

“sa–samu…” your thighs start twitching and your mouth feels like cotton. you don’t want to get too loud, unsure of where atsumu went off to take his phone call. your cries get buried by your hands, cumming around osamu’s fingers like the shameful whore he says you are.

for the first time, osamu smiles at you, kissing you once again before pulling your bottoms back up. “came so much fer me, dummy, did it feel good?” when you nod, osamu’s eyes darken. “course it did, stupid. i’ll do it again later, yeah? now watch the rest of yer shitty movie and don’t tell him a fucking word.”

osamu gets up from the couch, openly licking his fingers as he walks past atsumu who just finished his call. the older boy takes one look at your flushed face and is quick to ask what his brother said to you. “nothing happened, we were just talking about class,” you lied and your best friend looks unconvinced.

“ya don’t have to keep defendin’ him, y/n. he gets a kick out of teasin’ ya, just stay away.”

but you weren’t so sure that you wanted to.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #osamu smut #osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyu #peach has 3k followers #🍑#🍑osamu #bully!osamu

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

Of Jealousy and Friendship - Pt. 1

Topic number 2 won in the vote to be written next! So without further-a-do, let’s get going!...This ended up being a two part thing. Oh Well. Here’s part one. - B GN! MC Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen. Part Two: Here, Epilogue: Here It all started in magical potions. When you first arrived, the course wasn’t so bad since you took it with Beelzebub. The two of you always partnered up; the hour would consist of you jokingly scolding Beel for trying to eat ingredients and making light hearted jokes with one another whenever the teacher turned their back. But once the second semester started, Beel was moved out of the course as it had gotten too expensive to keep him in a class where most of the subject matter was edible. Which left you alone and bored in the classroom as the teacher went on and on about Mandrake roots and what they can be used for. You let out a heavy sigh and plopped your forehead onto the desk. A soft snort came from beside you. You glanced over to see a demon with his feet propped up on his desk staring right back at you out of the corner of his dark green eyes. He smiled at you with a tilt of his head. “The lectures are a total snooze fest right? I joined this class cause I thought we’d be making potions and causing stuff to explode. Not sitting here twisting our thumbs all day.”

You bit back a laugh as you worried glanced over at the professor, who was none-the-wiser to the little conversation the two of you were sharing. You looked back over to the demon. His dark skin caused those hauntingly green eyes of his pop out at all who met his gaze, with carefully trimmed and styled black curls sitting stylishly on the top of his head. There was a playful and mischievous energy to him that reminded you of Belphie, Asmo and Mammon. “Unfortunately suffering through this section of class is mandatory to be allowed to mess around with the fun stuff.” The demon groaned and threw his head back. “Urgh, that’s so unfair. What’s the worst that can happen? The potion explodes and kills us? Newsflash teach, we’re already dead.” You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out at that one. “Well actually the worse that could happen, for you at least as I am a very mortal human, is that you’d suffer the consequences from one of the potions. Anything from shrinking to de-aging to charms, all kinds of things. I’ve seen the effects of a potion gone wrong a number of times during my time down here. Trust me; you don’t want to be on the receiving end.” He looked over at you with an analytical eye as the corners of his lips tilted upwards. “So you’re the human that everyone’s talking about.” He trailed off, and glanced over at the teacher to make sure they weren’t looking before stretching out his hand towards you. “I’m Cane. You know despite being the talk of RAD, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone mention your name?” You took his hand into your own and lightly shook it. “I’m MC.”

Cane leaned back into his chair, “It’s a pleasure to finally put a name and face to that glowing reputation of yours, MC. I see your pretty good at this potions thing, and I hear that you’re a lot of fun. How about you meet me downtown for supper later and we can study and get to know each other a little better?” Your initial instinct was to agree, but then you paused as you thought of the brothers. “I don’t know. I don’t think that Lucifer or the others would like it much if I went out on my own.” The demon huffed and light heartedly rolled his eyes. “You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me. I may not be as powerful as them, but I’m still a pretty good fighter.” He teasingly placed a gentle punch onto your shoulder, “Besides, it’s not like they’re boss of you. Are you really going to let a bunch of snobby Lords keep you from making the best of your time in the Devildom?” That last remark hit a nerve. If there was one thing that had spread quite quickly about you around RAD, it was that you were known for being a little reckless, prideful, and never being able to back down from a challenge, and boy did that statement have you itching to prove him wrong. You smiled, a sharp dangerous smile, at Cane. “I’ll go. And we’re going to do so much more than just go to a lame restaurant and study. You want to have fun and take risks? We’ll have fun and take risks. Whatever you want to do...to a degree,” you added in quickly remembering that you were talking to a demon and if you didn’t implement any boundaries there was no telling what you’d get yourself into, “I’m in.” Cane’s eyes sparkled as his smile widened. “Damn. I guess it’s true that you’re a bit of dare devil. Alright, you’re on. Meet me at Hell’s Kitchen a 4pm. We’ll study and hit the books as promised, but afterwards...Get ready for the night of your life.” ***

The brothers were concerned. You had rushed into the House of Lamentation after school and sprinted to your room, changed out of your uniform and promptly shouted that you were “going out” before taking off before any of them could complain. Mammon had tried to argue that someone should follow you, and while that wasn’t a terrible idea, Lucifer wanted to give you the question of the doubt. Worst case scenario, you come back home a little scratched up and learn your lesson about taking off into the dangers of the Devildom. At least that’s what he had thought when you had initially left. It was now bordering midnight, and you had yet to return home. So yeah, the brothers were very concerned. Mammon was pacing and ranting about how this all could’ve been avoided if they had only listened to him for once. Leviathan was trying to distract himself with his game, but everyone could see the worried glances he kept throwing to the entrance and clock as the minutes ticked by. Satan sat near where Mammon and would occasionally scold or correct him, and sometimes even throw in his own ideas on what could be done while he thumbed through a book on location spells. Asmodeus was strangely quiet, sitting near the fire by himself with arms wrapped around his torso as he stared into the flames. He would occasionally move a hand to wipe at his face before it went right back to hugging himself. Beelzebub had lost his appetite. He sat next to Belphie, taking comfort in his twin’s presence, while Belphegor pretended to be unbothered and asleep, even though his mind was racing with the many stupid situations you could’ve gotten yourself into. And Lucifer...He just sat in a door near the entryway, his eyes fixed on the entrance as he silently waited. Finally, just as the clock stroke midnight, they could hear your recognizable laugh from behind the door. “Oh my god! That was incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in life!” Leviathan stiffened at the statement, his hands gripping tighter onto his game. “What did I tell you? I promised you the night of your life, and I sure as Diavolo always make sure to deliver,” everyone froze at the sound of the teasing male voice. “Though I didn’t expect the Seven Lords’ precious human to be a complete bad ass. You were amazing out there.” Leviathan mumbled something before getting up and leaving the room. Mammon growled lowly and looked at the others, “Anyone know who the hell that is?” Asmo finally stood, wiping at his face as he did, and began to stride towards the door, “Why don’t we find out?” Without waiting for a response, Asmodeus swung the door open and pulled on a bright smile as he reached out and wrapped an arm around you. “MC, darling, you didn’t tell me you were bringing over guests! Don’t tell me you’re trying to have fun without me?” You blinked up at the Asmo before smiling softly at his tactics. “Oh, hey Asmo! I didn’t expect you to be up. Cane here was just dropping me off.” The demon in question didn’t even so much as stiffen as Asmodeus’s dangerous stare shifted over to him. Instead Cane stood there, relaxed, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at him and allowed a bit of his demonic aura to exude around him. “Oh really? At this time of night? Makes a demon wonder what kind of mischief the two of you had gotten up to,” while maintaining eye contact with Cane, Asmo rested his chin against your shoulder. “You know dear, if you wanted “fun” that badly all you had to do was ask. I assure you I could’ve shown you a much better time.” He purred and softly kissed your shoulder. You shivered, missing the way Asmo stiffened as he noticed something, and swatted at the Avatar of Lust as you moved away from him. “Down Asmo. It’s nothing like that. Cane’s in my magical potions class. We went out to study together and decided to hit a couple clubs while we were out. No biggy.” “If it’s ‘no biggy’ then why were you out all night without giving us any kind of warning of where you were going or how long you’d be out?” Everyone whirled around as Lucifer stood in the doorway with a frown etched on his face and his arms crossed. He took a step closer to you before freezing mid-step, his nose twitching. His eyes flared red as they fell onto Cane. The lower demon tensed and curled his hands into fists, but seemed to be refusing to back down. Lucifer snarled, “What exactly was it that you said the two of you were up to tonight?” You frowned and stepped between Lucifer and your new friend. “Hey! Stop it! He didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re implying. And I wasn’t aware that I needed permission for every single thing that I do!” You snapped poking his chest as you moved into his space. “So excuse me for wanting to go out and enjoy myself for once!” Whatever fear Cane had been showing, quickly slipped away at seeing you stand your ground against the mighty first born. “Yeah. What they said.” Lucifer growled and caught your hand into his own, pulling you close and leaning in, “You’d be wise to remember that you are in the Devildom and surrounded by beings that have no where near as good intentions as you’d assume. Being so reckless and naïve down here could get you killed again, I thought you had learned that.” His tone was cold and unapologetic as he practically spat the words in your face. You glared at Lucifer as you yanked your hand out of his grasp. There was so many things you wanted to say to him, but none of them would be right to say in front of an audience. You huffed and turned to face Cane. “I am so sorry about those two. Thanks again for tonight and bringing me home. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?” Cane gave you a side smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. I had a great time hanging out with you. Hopefully we can do again...under better circumstances. Goodnight MC.” He took a step towards you and pulled you into a hug. You smiled, wondering how Lucifer and Asmo could be stirring up such a fuss about a guy who had been nothing but kind to you, and gently hugged him back. What you couldn’t see, was Cane making direct eye contact with the two other demons, as one of his wrists gently brushed up and down you back and he very lightly nuzzled, so lightly that you could just barely feel it, his face against your neck. “Hey, what’s takin’ everyone so- WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!” Mammon stormed forward and yanked you out of the demon’s embrace, already changing into his demon form. “Who the hell do you think you are scenting our human, huh?!” He lifted Cane off the ground by the collar of his shirt, causing the lower demon growl as he scratched at Mammon’s hands. You yanked on Mammon’s jacket and arms and tried to get him to back off. “Woah! Mammon, relax! It was just a hug!” “No it wasn’t,” Satan grumbled as he and the rest of the brothers (excluding Leviathan who was now sulking in his room) stood in the door way. “The fact that you don’t know that makes this even worst. But this isn’t a conversation we should be having out here.” Beel stared down at the demon with a fierce glare. “You should leave while you’re still able. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay away from MC.” “Wha- Beel! Cut that out!” Cane took a step backwards, fear beginning to spill into his expression as he finally realizes just how out-powered and out-numbered he is. Still, he was stubborn pain in the ass; it was part of the reason he had been so drawn to you in the first place as he related to your reckless habits. He held Beelzebub’s glare and returned it with one of his own. “I think that MC can choose for themself who they do and do not hang out with, thanks. They already said they wanted to see me tomorrow so they will. We’re friends after all. And classmates,” his grin sharpened as he continued. “I do have to thank you, Lord Beelzebub, for that opening in magical potions by the way. Never would’ve got in if you hadn’t been kicked out.” Before he could say anymore, he was met with a punch in the face. Belphegore lazily shook out his hand and his looked at Cane with an unbothered expression. “I believe we told you to leave. Now get. The. Fuck. Out.” Cane scoffed and turned to you once more. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Dare Devil.” You would’ve snorted at the nickname, but you were to distracted from the brother’s behavior. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safe, Cane.” With another nod, the demon left; leaving you alone with six of the seven brothers bubbling with jealousy, anger, and concern.

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babyboy-cody · 3 years

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Literally your Grayson smut has me GONE 😵‍💫😵‍💫 can I ask for like anything that has to do with Gray fingering reader with his arm across the back of the couch and his lips against your ear with dirty talk???? Love you!

okay you’ve officially KILLED ME 😮‍💨

It had been Kristina and yours idea to have a movie night/fort. While the twins were reluctant, seeing the excitement on their girls’ faces was enough for them to help create the giant fort in the living room. Kristina and Ethan chose their spot on the floor in front of yours and Grayson’s spot on the couch. The four of you had your own assortment of snacks so that there wasn’t the continuous interruption of the movie when one of you needed to get up and get another snack.

The layout of the separate forts were quite simple. For Ethan and Kristina’s fort, couch cushions were placed behind and on either side of them with a large blanket covering the top. The cushions were big enough for them to sit underneath without their heads touching the blanket. Yours and Grayson’s fort had tall cushions on either side with a bigger blanket covering the top, sides, as well as the back of the couch. The lights were all off and the sun had already set - the only source of light being from the huge television hung on the wall above the fireplace.

Halfway through the movie, Grayson had gotten a little bored and started getting distracted by his own thoughts. He subtly turned his head to look down at you, his thoughts suddenly being overcome by you. The soft hues of light coming from the television made you look angelic that it nearly took his breath away. With your beautifully curled eyelashes, the soft slope of your nose, your parted lips as your entire focus was on the movie playing - every single thing about you enticed him. He couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head until his lips were at your ear to huskily whisper, “You’re so pretty.”

Almost immediately, your attention was pulled away from the movie and was focused on the handsome man beside you. You felt your cheeks warm up as your breathing stuttered. “Pay attention to the movie,” you softly whispered and nudged him with your elbow. Grayson loved how shy you got when you were complimented, especially when it came from him. He was obsessed with the effect he had on you.

“How could I when you’re sitting next to me?” He whispered in your ear again, watching closely when you squirmed closer to him. “You don’t understand how hard it is not to fuck you right here.”

You muffled your gasp and looked up at him in shock at how vulgar he was being, especially with company around. He has a smug grin on his face as he licks his lips. Under the blanket splayed across both your laps, he placed his right hand on your inner thigh and slowly spreads them.

“Think you can keep quiet for me, pretty girl?” He huskily asked in your ear, lightly nipping your earlobe and relishing in the way you shivered. You frantically nodded and bit your lip as you gripped the blanket to make sure it doesn’t slide down. There was a lump in your throat and a rush of butterflies in your stomach. It dawned on you that Grayson was seriously going to finger you while Ethan and Kristina were a few feet away.

He applied the slightest pressure against the crotch of your shorts. He rubbed agonizingly slow circles, hard enough for you to feel those sparks of pleasure. Your lips part to let out a choked and soft gasp. Grayson chuckles quietly in your ear before whispering, “That feel good?” And you nod frantically while eagerly spreading your thighs more open. It was embarrassing how desperate you seemed, but every little thing Grayson did always made you desperate. “If I slide my hand down these little shorts, are you gonna be wet for me?”

“M-Maybe..” you let out a shy giggle, barely flinching when a loud explosion erupts from the movie. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

He immediately slides his large and veiny hand under the waistband of your shorts, pressing his fingers back against the crotch of your panties this time - the fabric so damp and sticking to your dripping pussy. Grayson lets out a muffled groan that he hides in your hair. Somehow, the thought of getting caught didn’t scare you anymore. It just amped up the excitement.

“You’re dripping through these fucking panties,” he huffs a small laugh of disbelief, his hot breath hitting your ear and making you shiver once again. “Take off your shorts.” To your dismay, he pulls his hand out and gets himself comfortable - legs spread, body slouched, left arm never once moving from behind your shoulders on the back of the couch. Hastily pulling off your shorts, you readjusted the blanket until it covered yours and Grayson’s lap, as well as spreading your thighs to its original position. His hand goes right back between them and nestles against your clothed cunt. He can feel the outline of your pussy lips against the thin fabric and the small button of your clit beginning to swell.

Kristina and Ethan suddenly let out boisterous laughter after a particular funny scene, briefly scaring you at the possibility if one or both of them coming out if their fort and catching you and Grayson. His long fingers start rubbing your clit a little faster, now applying harder pressure for you to feel that tingly sensation. You rest your head back on his arm, your hips barely twitching against his hand. He whispers a small “fuck” in your ear, very slowly and finally sliding his hand into your panties to gain perfect access to your bare pussy.

Your brows furrowed and bitten lips parted, your face contorting into one of relief. Grayson couldn’t believe how wet you were until he dipped his fingers down to scoop some of your slick. He can almost here the obscene wet noises of his fingers rubbing all over your click to spread your wetness. You hastily grabbed onto his wide wrist, nails digging into his tanned and hairy skin.

With his lips against your ear, in a husky and gruff voice, he mumbles, “Just lay back and let daddy do what he does best.” Almost instantly, he began rubbing frantic circles on your swollen clit, applying just the right amount of pressure that has your eyes rolling back and pussy clenching around nothing. He’s rubbing you just right - it’s almost too much but not enough. The hood of your clit just barely pulled back until your bundle of nerves was fully exposed. The pads of Grayson’s fingers pressed down against it and it has your stomach bursting with butterflies. More slick pools out of you as you fight back your moans. With one hand around his moving wrist, the other clamps down over your mouth.

“I can’t wait to fuck you nice and hard when this movie ends,” Grayson cockily tells you, pulling away to look at your expression. His pupils have expanded from arousal. He never once let up the speed of his fingers on your inflamed cunt. He rubs much faster and harder, loving how hard it is for you not to let out your pleasure filled squeals and moans. Your hips began bucking more freely against his hand. “You want my fingers inside, pretty girl?”

“Yes yes yes yes,” you quietly babbled incoherently as your clit throbbed erratically, the tingles spreading like a wildfire throughout your lower-half. Your toes curled when Grayson roughly shoves his middle and ring fingers inside your cunt, the burning stretch making your eyes cross as you let out a pretty loud gasp that was thankfully silenced by a couple arguing on the screen. He starts fucking your pussy with his fingers, crooking them and rubbing your g-spot perfectly. The palm of his hand presses and rubs your clit. Both sensations has your mind turning to mush.

“You’re just soaking all over my fingers, aren’t you?” He softly asks in a condescending way. You can now hear the sopping wet noises of his fingers fucking your insides. You didn’t realize how loud it was.

“Yo, can you both stop making out please?” Ethan shouted from his spot in his own fort, immediately making your eyes open and thighs shutting around Grayson’s hand and wrist. “It’s loud as fuck! And gross!”

“My bad, bro,” Grayson lets out a full belly laugh and doesn’t stop the come hither motions of his fingers. He looks down at you with a grin wide enough for you to see the jewel on his canine tooth. He silently raised his brows at you as if challenging you to say something. He pulls his fingers out from your tightening cunt, just as you’re on the cusp of a strong orgasm, and he goes back to rubbing your clit at a fast pace. Your mouth falls open and your head falls back against his arm again. You’re holding onto his arm with both hands now to ground yourself. He leans in close to your face, his floppy hair brushing against your temple. “Are you gonna cum, angel?”

At the sight of your frantic nodding and heavy panting, he rubs faster and harder. And then you felt it. The wave getting higher and higher and higher. Your toes curled as you practically humped his hand like a dog in heat. When that wave finally crashed down, you had to bury your face in Grayson’s neck. He gruffly groans and shoves his middle and ring fingers back inside your pussy, feeling your walls contracting around them to keep your orgasm going. He slows his fingers to a stop before gently rubbing your overstimulated clit with his thumb. When you let out a small whimper against neck, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead and pulls his fingers out of you.

“You still wanna fuck later?” He bluntly asks you, staring at his pruned fingers coated in your cum.

You elbowed him with a quiet laugh. “How could I refuse that offer?”

He side eyes you - a gesture he always does because it makes you blush - and slowly licks his fingers into his mouth, letting out a deep moan only you can hear. Suddenly, the movie pauses and Ethan announced, “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You quickly grabbed the couch pillow and held it against your chest to hide your still fast breathing. You always shut your thighs and move them into a criss-cross position, stifling a gasp at the ache in and around your pussy. Grayson licks his lips and subtly wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist just as Ethan stands and looks at you both.

“No more making out!” He points at you both.

You and Grayson look at each other, both of you hiding a smirk before looking at Ethan. When you both nod in agreement, watching as he leaves to the bathroom, you lean over to whisper in Grayson’s ear, “Can I suck your dick?”

#IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE #i’m feeling a lot better physically 😭😭#grayson dolan x reader #grayson x reader #grayson dolan smut #saamwilsonn ask <3

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cloudteawrites · 4 years

Text

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place.

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon.

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful.

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer.

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored.

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum.

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart.

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle.

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.”

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy. “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back.

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…”

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.”

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.”

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation.

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent. Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think.

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night.

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk.

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted.

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen.

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert.

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.”

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you.

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him.

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first.

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.”

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache.

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.”

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too.

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.” You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking.

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's.

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist.

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?”

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles.

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting.

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another.

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.”

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room.

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦

Warnings: Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Suggestive scenarios only, no actual NSFW content.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Hongjoong!" You continuously poked at his arm rather harshly, trying to get him to look away from the phone in his hands.

"What-what?!" He freaked out and accidentally dropped his phone on the floor.

When he saw you peeking over to see what had gotten him so interested, he quickly scrambled to pick it up before hiding it in his lap. That made you even more suspicious.

"What are you trying to hide?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Hongjoong gulped nervously, which made your anxiety rise up.

"No-nothing... " But obviously there was something if his eyes refused to look at you. The longer you stared at him, the more Hongjoong seemed to recoil back in his chair, looking like he was..... guilty? Ashamed?

Dropping your fork on the table, you held up an accusatory finger at him.

"I'm warning you right now Kim Hongjoong, if you're fucking cheating on me I will cut off your penis while you're sleeping!" You threatened him.

The color drained from Hongjoong's face but nonetheless he got up to go over and calm you down.

"No no babe! I'm not cheating on you! I swear." He promised you, even getting on his knees in front of you.

"Then what were you looking at that you didn't want me to see?"

Sighing softly, Hongjoong took out his phone and pulled up the picture that he was looking at: it was a really cute and girly crib with a pink bed setting. You had to admit you were surprised that it would be something he was so intently looking at.

"And tell me why you were so distracted by this? Who were you planning on buying this for? Our son is already 3 and I don't think he'll appreciate the frilly pink in his room." You tried reasoning with him.

"No it's not for him. I've just been seeing so many nursery ideas for baby girls and it kinda got me thinking...." He paused and layed a hand on your stomach as he bit down on his lip, hoping you'd catch on to what he was trying to say.

And you most certainly did.

"Hongjoong- are you telling me you actually want another baby?" You weren't put off by the idea but it was so sudden and unexpected that you didn't know how to react.

Standing upright, Hongjoong squeezed your cheeks and softly pecked your lips.

"I do. I want an adorable and beautiful little girl... just like you. " He chuckled adoringly as he pressed more kisses to your cheek, trying to coerce you into saying yes.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Dang, could you imagine raising 6 kids?" You asked Seonghwa as you cuddled up closer to him, your hand stroking the little patch of skin that was peeking out of his pajama shirt while you two watched the old sitcom The Brady Bunch play on your tv.

"Well you'd never have a boring day for sure." He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You hummed softly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you.

"True...but to think how exhausting it must be. We only have two and they take up most of our time."

Seonghwa laughed at how true your words were, your twins already nearing 5 years of age and boy were they a handful. If you weren't making sure they were doing well in school, you almost always had to deal with the boy pranking his sister or causing all kinds of mischief or you had your daughter coming up to you with the darnest of questions, one after another.

"But you can't deny they're adorable and they make our life happier." He reminded you, and you had to agree. Like Seonghwa said, there was never a boring day with your two munchkins around.

Feeling Seonghwa's fingers idly tap along your hip, you knew his mind was elsewhere and not on the show playing on the tv.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked him.

Seonghwa wondered whether it would be a good idea to say something but ultimately decided 'screw it.' Turning off the tv, he sat up and looked you straight in the eye.

"How would you feel about adding another member to the family?" He straight out blurted it out.

Although you knew what he meant, you decided to play like you didn't understand.

"I thought you said no pets because they make a mess." You giggled which caused Seonghwa to flick your head.

"You know that's not what I meant." He huffed out.

"I know, I know love...."

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, your fingers slowly began undoing the buttons.

"So.... you want another baby?"

Seonghwa felt himself hardening when he looked at your suggestive eyes.

"Yes." He breathed out, tongue swiping over his lips when you brought your face close to his.

"Wanna fuck another baby into me?" You smirked as you layed down on the bed and pulled him on top of you.

"Hell yeah-"

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the screeching of your daughter as she called out for you, ratting out her brother in his new prank. Seonghwa sighed loudly as he got up.

"Guess we're trying this another night."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Picking his son up from school, Yunho watched as the little boy waved goodbye to his friends who in turn ran to their respective parents. He noticed how the boy seemed to look with great curiosity at some of them, particularly when they would hug or mess around with the sibling that was accompanying their dad or mom. Even during the car ride home, Yunho would peer through the rear view mirror and saw the little boy fidgeting his tiny hands.

"What's up buddy? Something on your mind?" He asked.

His son looked around nervously before blurting out:

"Dad how come all of my friends have brothers or sisters but I don't?"

Yunho had to steady his grip on the steering wheel to keep from swerving onto the opposite lane. He was not prepared to be asked such a question by his son.

"I well umm..... mommy and I didn't know you'd want a sibling...."

Yunho looked back at his son through the rear view mirror, hesitating on his words.

"Do you want a brother or sister?"

The reaction on the boy's face was immediate, eyes growing big and sparkling.

"Yes! I want someone to play with every day too!" He squealed.

Yunho chuckled at his son's excitement. Getting out his phone, being careful not to take his eyes off the road, he made a quick call to Mingi and asked him if he could babysit for a couple hours, which his friend was more than happy to do. Yunho immensely thanked him and hung up.

"Well buddy, for today please settle for Mingi's daughter. Maybe this time you'll actually beat her in climbing up a tree faster."

Happy at getting his boy content and with entertained for a few hours, Yunho dropped him off at Mingi's place, the latter promising to take good care of him, which Yunho didn't doubt one bit. Getting back inside the car, he nearly drove over the speed limit just so he could get home as fast as possible. You were just finishing up setting up the table for lunch when Yunho came running inside.

"Hey, where's-"

You slightly gasped when Yunho cupped your face and began kissing you hungrily, his mouth devouring yours as his hands went to the back of your thighs so he could pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist.

"Yunho what has gotten into you? Where's my baby?" You finally asked when you were able to catch your breath.

"He's over with Mingi and he'll be there for a couple hours, perfect if you ask me."

You couldn't help the blush that spread across your cheeks when Yunho kicked open the door to your room and proceeded to lay you on the bed.

"Our son is lonely, he wants someone to play with and keep him company."

You giggled when you caught onto his meaning, tilting your head when he began peppering kisses along your jaw.

"So let's try and make him a sibling."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang and you calmly laid out the food on top of the picnic blanket, one of you looking over every once in a while at the pair of kids running around the park, making sure neither of them got hurt, which they didn't. You two merely exchanged amused looks when you heard their playful bantering.

"Hey! No fair! You cheated!" Your son accused his older half sister, face frowning at having lost in their game of hide and seek.

"Did not! You're just a sore loser." Eunbin called out.

Huffing loudly, your son stomped his tiny 4 year old feet away from her, but stopping midway to turn around dramatically.

"I liked you better when you'd let me win!" He exclaimed.

"And I liked you better when you couldn't talk and still needed to be changed. You were a lot cuter back then!" Eunbin replied, half snorting at her statement.

You and Yeosang tried not to burst out laughing right then and there, preferring to keep quiet, knowing they'd be friends again in 5 minutes and forget they even got mad at each other. You went back to your task of peeling fruit, so engrossed that you almost didn't hear Yeosang start talking.

"He was incredibly adorable as a baby, Eunbin isn't lying." He commented.

"Yeah he was. He looked like a little cherub. Squishy cheeks and button nose." You faintly squealed as you recalled all the times you'd stay by his crib and watched him sleep.

Yeosang also began reminiscing about those times, his mind starting to get ideas.

"What if we had another one?" He asked so casually.

"Another baby?" You raised your head to look at him.

"Yeah.... I mean... I kinda miss all those sleepless nights of crying, endless feeding, rocking them to sleep and changing diapers." Yeosang admitted.

"I did most of it though." You reminded him.

"I mean.... I helped didn't I?" Yeosang tried to argue.

"Actually Damian helped out, even if he was grouchy about it." You rolled your eyes.

Yeosang huffed. "So I take it this means no baby?"

"Now hold on, I didn't say that. I'm very open to the idea, but you know this isn't a decision to make ourselves."

Calling for your children over, they speedily made their way to you two, each of them sitting next to their favorite parent, Eunbin next to her father while your son scooted over with you, resting his head on your lap.

"Hey kids, what do you guys think about mommy and I getting you guys a brother or sister?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"There you go princess. All nice and pretty like always. Remember to behave at school ok? And be nice...."

Looking over to make sure you weren't within earshot, San leaned in and whispered to his daughter.

"But if anyone is being mean to you, remember to do that thing I taught you."

The tiny pig tailed girl held up her tiny fists and proceeded to lift her foot up and kick the air, just like her father had secretly taught her to do when you weren't around.

"That's my girl! Love you."

Kissing the top of her head, he watched her get in the car that also contained Wooyoung's daughter, their mom waving from the driver's side before taking them both to school. As usual, San stayed by the doorstep and waited a couple minutes before heading back inside. He joined you in the kitchen, where you were busy washing dishes from breakfast. Feeling your husband hug you from behind, you looked over and pecked his cheek.

"What's wrong?" You asked when you saw his pouty face.

"I'm worried about our princess. What if something happens to her?" He was starting once more with his overprotective dad mode.

"San she's going to be fine." You assured him.

"How do we know for sure? We say that now but what about later in life? Soon she'll start growing up, start making her own decisions and- Oh my God! Boys! Some boy will try to take her away from me!" He screeched, pure panic on his face.

"And that's normal. She will attract boys, she will date, will get her heartbroken-"

"Oh no no no, anyone breaks her heart, I'll break their necks." He cracked his knuckles to get his point across.

"You can't spy on her 24/7 you know. You might not even know when someone is interested in her or if she's interested in someone." You tried explaining to him.

"Hmmm true....we need someone else to do the job.."

Turning you around, San had a mischievous look in his eyes as he began untying your robe.

"Maybe someone like a little brother to report to me anything that goes on in her life."

You scoffed at him. "Choi San, are you suggesting we have a kid merely so they'll become your little accomplice?"

San chuckled as he pulled your body against his.

"That and it's getting pretty gloomy in the house without our daughter. Another baby might cheer us up."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi and you cooed at the tiny baby that was in Yunho's arms.

"He's so adorable." You squeaked when he brought it closer to you so you could get a better look at his tiny face

"And big." Mingi pointed out

"Yep, his mom felt that too while pushing him out." Yunho grimaced as he recalled the excruciating hours inside the delivery room.

"But it was all worth it in the end. We brought another healthy precious boy into the world and our son won't be so lonely anymore." Yunho continued as he looked over towards his son and your daughter who were currently immersed in their favorite tv show.

"Here, wanna hold him?"

Of course you did. Carefully taking the baby from his arms, you rocked him in your embrace, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest from how cute he was.

"Oh my god Mingi! He's the cutest thing ever." You whisper yelled, not wanting to cause the baby to cry or anything.

"I know. Doesn't it make you want another one?"

You whipped your head over at Mingi, who looked shocked that he actually said that.

"I mean- if you don't want to that's fine. I understand. After all, we already have our lovely daughter and I wouldn't want you to go through another pregnancy if you weren't up to it..." His babbling started to trail off, throat clearing as he felt embarrassed about what he said.

"Well look at that, he needs to be fed. Maybe it'll give you two time to talk." Yunho laughed slightly as he took the baby away and went to go prepare a bottle.

When Mingi looked back, you had your arms crossed over your chest, foot tapping against the floor. Your stare made him nervous.

"Song Mingi....do you want another baby?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I mean....I would but if you don't, I won't-"

You silenced him by pressing a kiss on his lips.

"I do. I think it'd be nice to grow our tiny family a little more." Your reply brought a smile to his face.

"Really? You mean it?"

You nodded immediately, giggling when he pressed more kisses on your lips.

"Can we start trying tonight?"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Y/N, I need your opinion on something." Wooyoung called out for you.

Walking into the room, you saw him face deep on his laptop, scrolling the mouse down.

"What?" You asked as you came up behind him.

"You know how we've been talking about moving to a different area?" You nodded at his question. Indeed, you had both been discussing about moving to a neighborhood that was close to your daughter's school.

"Well I found a few options and I wanted to see if you liked any of them."

Hunching over slightly, you started looking at all the different houses Wooyoung found. They all looked pretty cozy and very spacious.. a little too big though.

"Ooh! That's the one I liked! It has this huge backyard and I was thinking maybe we could install a playground for our daughter out there. With swings and a slide. Or maybe a trampoline!" He excitedly poured out his ideas.

"Wooyoung these are all 4 bedroom houses though." You pointed out.

"Yeah. So?" He shrugged.

"It's literally just 3 of us, what on earth are we going to do with 2 spare rooms?" You questioned him.

"Well I mean....what if..it wasn't just us 3? What if 3 became 4...or even more?" He looked up at you as he bit down on his lip, his hands coming up to caress your hips in a suggestive manner.

Smiling fondly at him, you cupped his cheeks and hummed.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You smirked at him.

"Are you going to say yes?" He looked at you with a hopeful smile.

You pretended to think about it, but eventually sighed and gave in.

"Yes."

Wooyoung jumped up from his seat and crushed you in a tight embrace, his lips attacking your cheek with pecks that felt more aggresive than grateful.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!" He repeated over and over again.

Running out of the room, he barged into your daughter's bedroom where he proceeded to pick her up and spin her around, the poor girl confused.

"Guess what babygirl?! We're moving to a new house and you're going to get a sibling!"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho steadied the tiny girl on his lap who was bouncing out of emotion while watching the soccer game.

"Ok ok honey, settle down. I don't want you falling off or something." He said as his strong hands kept her in place.

You and your daughter proudly cheered for Hongjoong's son and his team as they continued to score goal after goal, eventually winning over the other team which sent all of the spectators into a frenzy.

"Oh my god! They actually won!" You clapped.

Overflowing with excitement, your daughter hopped off her dad's lap and ran full speed into the field where she proceeded to latch onto Hongjoong's son, her tiny arms clinging to him while the poor boy was looking scared and nudged for someone to help him.

"Of course she'd run over to him." Jongho let out a sigh.

"Upset that your little girl already has her first crush?" You teased.

"No- well yes, but no actually."

Sensing that something was the matter with him, you inched yourself closer to Jongho, your hand reaching out to hold his.

"Is something wrong?"

It took a while for Jongho to muster his thoughts, but he eventually laid out his worries to you.

"No, it's just.... don't get me wrong, I love our daughter very much, she's my whole world along with you. But I can't help but feel jealous of my friends with their sons. Taking them to soccer matches every weekend, teaching them how to kick a ball, score a goal, you know, activities for father son bonding times."

You understood what he was talking about and although he could very well try to teach those things to your daughter, she was much too delicate and girly for such things, not to mention she didn't have much of an interest in sports. Resting your head on his shoulder, you smiled as you suggested:

"Maybe we should start trying for a boy then. I think it'd be nice don't you?"

Jongho whipped his head at you, questioning if you were being serious or not. You grinned and kissed his nose, effectively letting him know you were indeed being serious. Giggling, he pulled you against him and kissed your forehead.

"I love you so much."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez dilf au #dilf!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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writing-good-vibes · 3 years

Text

and it's usually quite loud

another sinclair brothers slice of life. i just love making them fight over petty shit. bold is sign as always.

"Look, I said I will tape it for you the next time it is on TV!"

"That isn't the point though!"

"I know your point and you're being stupid."

"I'm being stupid? Turns out you can't fuckin' read apparently!"

They'd been going on like this since before dinner was ready and had paused it only once to bicker about Bo's brisket carving technique, before continuing their main argument over the dinner table.

Since then, the table hasn't been quiet; the constant rattling of cutlery as it is dropped and picked up again with Vincent's yelling. Even Bo, who wasn't one to be parted from a meal, would throw his fork down if he was particularly irate, signing messily but none the less furiously at Vincent, just to drive his point home.

Vincent slammed his own fork down in anger and quickly replied, "I can read, and there wasn't one thing on that tape that said not to tape over it!"

"I told you last week not to use that tape!"

"You have a million more tapes, it's not like you have nothing to watch now!"

"That is not the point," Bo repeats, "I liked that episode and I told you not to use my shit without asking!"

"Fuck you, you use my things all the time!"

"Like what?"

"My boots are still at the back door because you wore them last week and have not cleaned them!"

"That was for a practical purpose! And," Bo jabs his fork in Vincent's direction, "I will clean them. You can't get my tape back."

"I can't believe you're so hung up about this. Why are you so attached to that episode?"

"Episode of what?" Lester asks. He's had no idea what this argument was even about seeing as it started before he even arrived at the house. Knowing Bo, there were two options: Star Trek or Knight Rider.

Bo answers Vincent's question defensively, "I am not 'attached'! What, is it a crime to enjoy a TV show now?" At the same time, Vincent replies "Star Trek," to Lester.

Lester nods, though no one is really taking much notice of his opinion on this whole thing.

Bo goes back to his dinner, but keeps talking, "It's the principle of the thing, Vince."

"Whatever. I'll tape it again for you."

Bo grunts. Vincent grunts back.

Lester sits there in silence, glad that they seem to have come to an agreement, although he doesn't quite understand what has just happened. He loves his brothers, he does, but their arguments can go around in circles for hours sometimes with no apparent end other than the moment they both get bored of arguing. Lester's just glad they finally seem content to leave this one be. For now.

"They're giving me more hours at work," Lester says, throwing the fact into the room and awaiting a reaction.

"More?" Bo asks, "You're already out there breakin' your damn back every day."

"I - We need the money."

"We don't need nothin' we can't get elsewhere. You need help wi' money, you come to us, alright. We'll figure it out."

"It's just a couple extra hours, Bo. Aint no harm."

Bo raises a brow as he chews thoughtfully on his brisket.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. The twins give up their arguing for the night and there's a steady supply of beers in the fridge.

When it gets late enough and Lester has had his fill of eating the twins' food, he makes to leave. Bo waves him goodbye from the couch with one hand, taking a swig from his bottle of beer, eyes still trained on the TV.

Vincent walks him to the door. He never normally does that.

"See you 'round, Vince," Lester says, already opening the door.

Vincent takes a swig from his own beer bottle before putting it down on the side table to speak, glancing behind him to make sure Bo is still watching TV. "While you are out tomorrow, will you get a TV magazine for me? So I can find when that stupid episode is next on."

Lester scoffs softly, keeping his voice down, "You really gonna coddle him like that?"

"Shut up," Vincent smirks. "He'll be on my ass about it if I don't. "

Lester shrugs, "Sure thing." He pats Vincent heartily on the shoulder.

"You either in or you out," Bo calls, "You're letting all the heat out."

"See you, Bo," Lester calls back, finally setting out into the cold night and heading down the path to his truck.

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax 2005 #sinclair twins #well well well #here i am again #i love making them fight #and then immediately make up and watch tv #bonus: they watch star trek after lester leaves #bo is sensitive he just doesnt like to admit it #he is obsessed with sci fi and horror and has a collection of bootleged episodes of star trek. knight rider. tales from the crypt #vincent part owns the crypt ones technically #anyway yeah idk what this is #dialogue heavy which is unusual for me #tw angst #not really but they do argue a lot #tw food #this city's cold and empty

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mrskurono · 4 years

Text

Schweiden Sex Education || Wakatoshi Ushijima x Fem!Reader

Tag(s): oral, semi public, slight age gap, talk of taking virginity, dirty talk

Character(s): Wakatoshi Ushijima (hq), with mentions of other Schweiden members

Word Count: 4k

a/n: I intend to make this a mini series so here’s to keeping one thirsty brain cell (:

part (2) (3)

The Schweiden team had always felt like a home to you. Really it was your home. And had been for the past six, almost seven, years now. The only ones who held supremacy over you were Nicollas and Fukuro. And that was a tenuous supremacy when you argued you did more work than they did to help manage the team. Mostly the veteran men didn’t argue with you.

And surprisingly neither did the newbies as they came in one by one. Each year adding another body to your roster and another mouth to listen to. Quickly though the Schweiden players always seemed to get the hint who was the mother hen of the eagle roost. Even the obstinate youngsters the team got within the last few years realized that.

Korai perhaps your hardest to twin. Like a true middle child. He raised hell when he could but learned fast you had no time for games. The other two though? The one to come after him was sullen but determined. You honestly appreciated the break Tobio gave you in comparison to Korai. But the older of the three newest recruits? He left you stumped.

Wakatoshi Ushijima. Or as Tobio and Korai repeatedly said, Ushiwaka. Came first. He was quiet and good at what he does. An obvious pick for the team. Like all your players you wanted to cultivate a good relationship with him. If your boys were happy then they played happy.

But unlike Toshiro who you could call if he was gonna have a bad day by the way he left his equipment in the Schweiden’s gym instead of the lockers. Or Fukuro who almost never had a bad day if there was a pack of spearmint gum set on the bench right inside the men’s locker room. Your newest eaglet was something of a mystery.

The first season you had him under your care was ruthless. He wouldn’t speak but maybe two words to you. And that was in one week. When you tried to make him feel more at home the man would look at you with a dumbfounded look and tell you his home was back in Japan. These gestures seemed to go right over his head.

Korai came along the following season and with another younger player you thought maybe Ushijima would warm up to you. That was a false hope as most of the season was spent rangling Korai for better or worse.

It wasn’t until the youngest Schweiden came that you finally had some insight to the stoic man. Tobio had off handed comments about their matches back in high school. Specifically his first year as he would repeatedly tell you that his team got to go to nationals that year and not his. This didn’t help you a lot but the other things he and Korai drug out of him did.

Soon you tried using Ushiwaka instead of anything else. Tobio and Korai insisted maybe he felt to formal around his manager. It would illicit a response of him looking at you. Just to quickly look away. Then it was anticipating things he might need. Extra towels, clean jerseys for practice, even snacks here and there for long practices. All of it met with him staring at you from either a distance. Or avoiding eye contact with you the second you were within arms reach of him.

Concerned he might hate you. You tried harder to win your player over. A happy player was a happy win.

“Ushiwaka-kun!” Again this week you flag him down as he enters the gymnasim with Tobio. In your hands are the water bottles you always keep filled for the men even if they bring their own, “And Tobio-kun how are you guys today?”

Like normal Tobio yawned, regardless of the fact it was two in the afternoon, “Fine I guess. Where’s Hoshiumi senpai?”

“Went to go get something for Fukuro apparently it wasn’t clear,” You had a good idea of what a normal Tuesday looked like for your men, “Do you want me to get Toshiro to practice with you two today?”

“Sure,” Tobio thanked you.

But it was Ushiwaka’s scowl that still you wanted to prevent. So of course you offered him a bottle, “I got the electrolyte power you like Ushiwaka-kun.”

Staring hard down at you. It takes you a moment to realize he isn’t staring at the white sports bottle. And indeed staring at you. Ready to open your mouth and ask what the problem was, Tobio nudges him in the side. Korai was seen coming back in from the other end of the gym with Toshiro. Meaning whatever kinship you were trying to cultivate was cut short by the men going to business with practice. Once again foiled in trying to make all your players happy. You sigh and go about the rest of practice helping where you can.

Throughout the practice though something seemed off. Every time you turned around you found Ushiwaka’s eyes on you. No matter where you were in the gym. Be it picking up volleyballs. Or bent over refilling bottles. His gaze followed you from a distance. Having not realized this much until you had unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt to let yourself breath.

Pulling away the fabric from your neck and collar to fan yourself a little. This was when you saw Ushiwaka's face nearly boring holes into you. First you thought he wanted something. But the second you went to go grab a water for him, the six three brute of a man turned away quickly. Stumping you once again for what he was looking at you for.

A second time that day, towards the end of practice, did your attention get peaked once more. You were standing around the men with clipboard in hand. Arms folded up under your bust and waiting for Fukuro and Nicollas to finish their spiel. That your gaze found Ushiwaka's gaze indiscriminately locked onto your chest.

Sure the team members were all taller than you but almost none of them looked at you like that. Even Korai who you always kept an eye on just because he ran his mouth so often. So when it was Ushiwaka's olive green eyes entranced by the dip in your shirt, you had to do a double take to make sure he was really staring at you.

Holding still you forget to listen to what is going on around you. Just staying still, breath caught in your chest as you wonder how long he’s going to stare at you. Unsure if he’s even noticed you watching him.

Soon there is a heat creeping up on your cheeks. The objectification almost a turn on. You wonder if he’s tried to look down your shirt before. Has he looked at you wearing shorts? Did he notice the one time you wore your leggings with the hole in the crotch? Each daunting thought made your insides twist with giddiness before that was ripped from you the second your eyes met his.

Like every time before, Ushiwaka looked away. Scowl on his face and refusing your eye contact. Even if he was just staring down your shirt he didn’t decide to keep looking at you for long. You thoughts a buzz as Fukuro called the meeting over and now you had something else to think about.

Thoughts stirred in you from that moment. Perhaps you were trying to get his attention in the wrong way. Practices and meetings didn’t change. But the way you presented yourself did. Keeping blouses unbutton lower. Tucking things up high with the threat of midriff always lurking. You took full advantage of showing yourself off with little comment from the older players. For as far as they were concerned was you were seeing someone outside work. It wasn’t knew for you to spruce up when you had a suitor. There was no suitor but there was someone who had noticed your change in attire.

“Pay attention!!” Korai raged about the third ball that went right by Ushiwaka’s head. This was getting worse by the day and Korai’s fuse was getting shorter.

“What? I was.” Ushiwaka frowned at his teammate like he was lying.

“Huh?? Really?? Paying attention??” Korai bolstered his chest at his fellow volleyball player, “Three balls what am I your ball boy??”

“No we have one of those.” Tobio interjected. Little to care about Korai getting bent out of shape but he did think it was ridiculous to hear that they didn’t have one.

“Ehh??? I know that!” Korai huffed as he chucked at ball Ushiwaka’s face, “I’m tired of this idiot sucking at practice!”

You overheard the Schweiden youngerster arguing so you look up from your paperwork actually not aware of anything. Practice was almost over so what Korai was getting bent out of shape over confused you and the rest of the team.

“I hit every serve.” Ushiwaka informed the shorter wing spiker like there was no validity to his accusations.

Korai made to mock him childishly and rolled his eyes before looking over at you for some reason, “If he wasn’t thinking about fucking you all the time then we could get something done!”

“Alright!” Fukuro clapped loudly like that was cover up what his teammate decided to blurt out, “I think we’re done for today!”

More than stunned you look behind you like Korai might have been meaning someone else. Even if you were showing a little more skin this past week you still thought it was a joke.

“He’s all pissy because he’s a virgin-” Korai started up again but Nicollas decided he’d put his foot down too to help Fukuro out.

“Wait and your not?” Tobio looked genuinely surprised at the white haired man.

“What?! No I’m not what kinda question is-”

“Clean up! Or laps now!” Fukuro hollered.

Fukuro’s laps were hell.

Stunned by that entire transaction right in front of you. It takes a moment before you really even register what Korai said. But it’s then that your eyes dart right over to Ushiwaka. He’s still a virgin? You couldn’t tell it Korai was being a shit or maybe, there was some validity to that?

Sure your cleavage was slightly self indulgent to make yourself feel good. But knowing that you had become a possible fixation was....almost hot?

Now it was your turn to not take your eyes off your teams wing spiker. Had a normal person been called out like that then they would be a mess or at least red with embarrassment. Ushiwaka seemed, unphased. While they cleaned up and didn’t earn actual laps. You hung back with the dwindling fact that Korai told the truth and wasn’t just trying to start something for being crabby.

Having taken too much time after the little outburst. You ended being one of the last people to leave the gym. Nicollas and Toshiro waved you good night. With a small apology for earlier. You laughed it off and chucked it up to Korai being himself. When you turned around though you saw one of your members was still practicing sole. Ushiwaka.

Clipboard hugged to your chest you watch him for a second. Still no illicit response for what happened earlier. Was he just staring at you because he didn’t like you?

No answer as he looks at you once. But then drops his volleyball in the bin to disappear back into the locker room. You guessed you should probably head home now. Only to be stopped with a wicked idea surfacing in your mind.

You could just ask? Where was the harm in asking?

Setting your things back down you make your way back to the men’s locker room. Vacant now so you knew no one was back there but the wing spiker.

Searching the locker room you spot the younger man over by his locker. Of course getting his things. Maybe things really were in your head and Korai was talking out his ass. But when you watched him peel off his jersey your lady brain had other ideas.

It had been a while since you’d gotten any. Passing into your late twenties did that as did travel and working with a team of constantly sweaty men. So the last time you might have actually seen action was more than a few months.

Your grip on the edge of the lockers you leaned into tightened. He was, god he was delicious to look at. An impulse and you push away from the locker.

“Ushiwaka-kun!” You hail him but before he can register the intruder in the locker room, you have yourself pushed up against him. Looking up at him with the perfect view down your blouse, “...is what Korai-kun said true?”

For the first time, in almost three years, the glimmer of a response shown on the man’s face. It was subtle. And you would have missed it had you not been watching him so closely. But the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in the most guilty swallow of a man’s life. Korai was right.

Fueled by the temptation of untouched skin. You push yourself up on the man’s lips without question. Knowing full well that no one besides you had touched them. Kissing a virgin never in a million years had you thought it would turn you on like this,

Almost entirely one sided. Not for the sake of the feeling of Ushiwaka lean his tall frame into the kiss. He purely did not know what to do when your lips met his. Stunned by the fact he’d stared at them for countless hours with lewd thoughts always surfacing. Now that it was actually happening though the volleyball savant had no idea what to do.

Pulling away with a lingering touch on his chest. You realize just the bridge of his nose has gotten a dusting of blush on it. He really had no way to word anything. Perhaps Korai’s loud mouth was the best thing to happen to either of you.

“Let me,” You whisper like someone is going to hear you in the vacant locker room, “Let me show you.”

His thick brows pinch in the middle and he’s left wondering what you want to show him, “What can I see?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. He had no idea and here he was going to take a hasty kiss as enough. You weren’t though after the years of misunderstanding. Now you found a language you could talk to him in.

“Let me show you, what to do,” You look at the hand pressed against his chest. The toned muscles underneath as wonderful to touch as you imagined. Licking your lips you struggle to keep your composure as the need to be the role model came before all else, “Let me teach you about sex and....I’ll guarantee you’ll be the best at it. Promise.”

Nothing but humming taking over any thoughts he had. Just like every time he caught a glimpse down his manager’s shirt. It was the same body tingling hum Ushiwaka got from that as well. Without an idea what to do or say it was Korai’s brash words that came to mind. He told him to always say yes to a lady if she mentioned sex. And looking down at you. The fact sex and the dip in your shirt were right there in front of him. Ushiwaka understood he had to say yes.

“Yes.” He found his eyes locked in on your clevage again. This time it was hard not to be when you pressed your body up against him, “...Yes please.”

Goosebumps prickled over every inch of you. The way your loins aches was unreal. You hadn’t been this giddy and horny since you were a teenager. Quickly to seal the deal you meet his mouth again. This time taking it a bit slower. Until you put your arms up around the back of his neck and pulled him into you, “...lesson one, kissing.” You brush your lips against his and hum, “Kiss me back and follow my lead.”

That was hard. First it was just him pressing harder into your lips than you were into his. When your lips parted though and your tongue grazed his bottom lip is when Ushiwaka dialed it back to truly let you take the lead.

With the sweet taste of his lips on your own. Wrestling for dominance over the kiss was nothing. Seconds in and you had your tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as he at least got the hint to bring his hands up to your sides. Not much but it was something. Ushiwaka was at least trying to take more in the sloppy kiss than he had when you first kissed him.

Finally when you pull back for a breath. It’s more than obvious the tent in his jersey shorts. If his untouched lips tasted this good. Could the rest of him be as delicious.

“Sometimes....” You started slowly, drawing a hand down his neck and peppering his collar bone with kisses, “We use our mouths to kiss more than just lips.”

“Like necks?” Ushiwaka, though holding a steady tone still, was gripping your sides even harder. Outwardly he wouldn’t let on but his body was reacting magically to your touch.

“Necks...” You murmur against his and trail down, “Chests...Stomachs....Private areas.”

Pushing him to sit. Perhaps a smart choice if he’s never experienced it before. You kneel between the wing spiker’s legs. Bringing yourself close to his clothed cock as it stood at attention for you and only you. Of course you lick your lips.

Untouched. Unsoiled. All for you to taste.

Your palms rub against his thighs. Finally the first normal sign he was enjoying himself as Ushiwaka’s moan was dampened by the fight to keep it down. His eyes shut tight and chest heaving a little. You smile as you bring your face close to his groin, “Don’t keep it in....that’s the part of the fun.”

This was true in fact when your lips pressed to the clothed underside of his cock. A deep throaty groan leaving the man. You could smell his precum through his shorts. At this rate you knew to thread carefully less he blow the second your fingers encircled him. And desperately did you wanna taste that cum.

Careful to free his cock from his shorts. You take a moment to not believe this man is a virgin with the length he is packing. Long, girthy, and a sight to be hold. Your mouth begins watering not just at the idea of him being untouched. But at the beautiful cock before you.

“I’m going to touch you....so I can get it in my mouth,” You don’t lie about the showing him thing. Deliberate in your movements. Hands touching up his thick thighs. Until finally the moment of truth. Your fingers curling around his base as Ushiwaka groaned unable to stay quite like he hoped.

The wonderful musk of his precum. And the sight of him nearly shaking in his seat. You could feel your slick coating your cunt lips and threatening to really ruin your panties. Patience was needed though. If you were going to teach him properly.

“Do you wanna look at my tits while I suck you off?” You offer. Eyes shut but he had spent so long staring at them you couldn’t keep them clothed.

Ushiwaka’s green eyes open, contrasting the red tint to his face, and he looks down at your chest so close to his cock, “...yes, yes I would.”

Wasting no time you let go of him just to peel your top off. A reward for him like the blowjob you were about to give him wasn’t enough.

You press your breasts into his thighs. The warmth of your chest sending a shiver up the man’s spine. Nothing compared to the way your hand felt gripping his cock though. Not the slightest idea how delightful his cock was either. So when you finally made a glutton of yourself and swallowed only about two thirds of his cock up. Well, Ushiwaka thought that was just a moment of heaven on earth.

The warmth of your cheeks wet and velvety. Enveloping his cock like nothing his hand could do. Even in his wildest ideas he never conjured up the idea this is what it would feel like. It was near too much.

You cheeks hallow as you struggle to take all of him. Desperate though. You press more into your mouth as your tongue works over time. Loving the sight as his head tips back and lips part slightly. Finally something you could read from him.

Eager to taste more you bob your head up and down on his cock. Sucking like your life depended on it. His precum soiling your tongue just as your juices seeped into your panties. Even the tingle of your tits pressed to his thighs was turning you on. Seeing him above you, gripping the edge of the bench and heated expression ruining that stoic look. It certainly was something you could get use to.

But no for long. Maybe not even five minutes in and you felt the jerking twitch of his cock. Faster than even you anticipated. It didn’t keep you from pulling your lips off his cock. Instead you wanted it more.

Eyes locked up on his face. Lips slurping what of him you could while your hand moved with you to jerk him off. Ushiwaka had no idea what to do with his hands or what to even say. The way you looked at him left him frozen as the undeniable need to cum finally was too much.

Warm spurts of cum filled your mouth. Before you were ready so some of the precious treat leaked from your cheeks. A choke and a sputter when you couldn’t keep up with the cum load he was giving you. Almost missing the guttural, almost whiny, moan that left the man above you. Face twisted in pleasure. It drove you to suck him dry of all that cum he was feeding you in his pathetic excuse for stamina. He really was a virgin.

Finally with the taste of his cum on your lips as you cleaned his cock off for every last drop. You look up at the mess of a man and smile. Certainly the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him in two years. You find it easy to believe he wasn’t going to back out of this sex education arrangement now.

Making your way back up his chest. Hands drawing up his toned muscles until you were at eye level with him. You gently press your lips against his. Not too much. Not ready to overwhelm him with the taste of his own cum. But enough that he does figure to lean into you and wrap his arms around the exact spot he did before.

“Do you want me to teach you?” You mumble against his lips.

That same swallow from before. Now though he was a little dazed looking at you as the warmth of your skin was something entirely new, “Yes.”

The want in his voice makes you grin, “What do you want me to teach you?”

“Everything. I want you to teach me everything.”

#schweiden adlers #ushijima wakatoshi #ushiwaka #ushijima x reader #hq ushijima #haikyuu!!#hq!!#hq #haikyuu #hq smut #threethirst #schweiden sex ed series

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reki-of-the-valley · 3 years

Text

Baked With Love

Here it is, the promised 8k of pure tooth-rotting fluff

Find it on AO3 here

In all the time that Reki had known Langa, he had never seen him hesitate. From that first day when Langa had taped his feet to a skateboard, he had always jumped headfirst into whatever it was that he wanted to do. He had never hesitated, always going for it and hoping for the best, so seeing him stare between the two jars he had placed on the table, brows furrowed and frowning, it was strange and somewhat endearing. Langa who never cared for consequences was hesitating between two jars of flour, face pulled in concentration rather than his usual spacey and lost expression.

“Dude, they’re both just flour,” Reki said, his chin resting on his folded arms against the kitchen table across from Langa. Both jars had been marked “flour,” but Langa insisted that there was a difference between them. He insisted that his mother used one for her baking while the other was kept for normal cooking.

“I know there’s a difference,” Langa said, brows still pinched, nose scrunching as he groaned. “They’re not the same. They can’t be.”

“Again, we’re just making cookies. Flour is flour and that’s all we need. Doesn’t have to be that baker’s fancy stuff.”

Langa sighed, finally settling for the jar on his right. “If you say so.”

“And I do. I guess you can say I’m a bit of an expert at making cookies.”

Reki grinned, laughing to himself as Langa nodded. Despite it being more of a joke than anything, Langa did trust Reki when it came to baking cookies. He had made hundreds if not thousands of them in his life and Langa always loved watching him whenever he would make. Langa had always been very vocal about his adoration of watching Reki work, be it in his workshop or in the kitchen. And, despite his burning face at the endless praise, Reki always loved the company. He loved having someone with him as he rambled away, his hands doing all the work.

While Reki loved baking with his sisters, it wasn’t the same as when it was just him and Langa. With his family, they were always bustling around the kitchen, bumping into each other, fighting to see who would break the egg – Koyomi won most of the time – and arguing about who would get the bowl and who would get the spoon once the cookies had been put to bake – the twins more often than not shared the bowl while Koyomi and Reki split what was left on the spoon. With his sisters, it was screams and giggles and grabbing at each other. And it was a lot of cleaning, which Reki found himself doing alone most of the time. Baking with his sisters was giving his mother a break, letting her sit down for an hour without worrying about the twins getting bored or asking for her attention. Baking with his sisters was just another activity he did with his family, being the good big brother he knew he had to be. Baking with his sister was Reki trying his best to be a good son, even if he would have rather be in his room or out skating with Langa.

But baking with Langa, it was calm and intimate, a little slice of heaven. It was quiet, low sunlight filtering into the kitchen as Langa sat on the counter, his legs swinging as he listened to Reki’s chatter with a content smile. Baking with Langa was muffled giggles and kisses in the middle of the night, with only the refrigerator light to light up their world. Baking with Langa was just… sweetness and domesticity. It always left Reki with a lightness in his heart, with the wish of baking cookies for Langa for the rest of his life.

Yet tonight, Reki was banned from working in the kitchen. Langa had insisted that he would be the one making the cookies all on his own. “You’re always making things for me,” he had said when Reki got ready to get to work. “I want to make something for you. I want to make these cookies for you, all on my own.”

And his face had glowed the moment Reki nodded, letting himself be pushed into the chair facing the kitchen. Langa, always so serious or spacey Langa, beautiful Langa with his boyish grin and his big, shiny blue eyes, had rarely seemed so excited. It wasn’t the same excitement as when he was on a skateboard, trying out new tricks or going up against strong skaters. Reki couldn’t quite explain the difference, but it was there. Langa seemed genuinely excited, not calculating in his excitement or expecting anything. It was an excitement that had a thousand butterflies blossom in Reki’s chest and stomach. It was an excitement that had him falling even more in love with Langa, childish, happy, and excited Langa.

“So, where do I start?”

Reki buried his face in his arms to muffle his laughter. He shouldn’t have been laughing – he knew Langa must have been pouting, not liking being laughed at – but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it, even if he knew it wasn’t nice to be laughing at someone who was trying so hard to do something new, something nice, something for Reki, but then he was looking so cute, staring at Reki so expectantly, waiting for his instructions. Langa was waiting for Reki to guide him around his own kitchen. Langa always waited for Reki to explain to him new things.

“First things first-” Reki got up from his chair, laughter still lingering in his voice as he made his way to his boyfriend, his fingers slipping between the long, slender fingers he adored- “we tie your hair. I refuse to eat blue cookies.”

Langa tilted his head to the side. “What’s wrong with blue cookies? Sure, they look weird and- yeah, the person who made them was weird too, now that I think about it. Weird shit used to happen all the time in that school.”

Reki furrowed his eyebrows as he dragged Langa to the chair in which he had been sitting. “I meant your hair, dude. What the hell is a blue cookie? And why have you seen one? What kind of weird shit went down in Canada?”

Langa shrugged as he took a seat. “Public school. Was weird as fuck sometimes.”

Reki shook his head. There was no point in asking about that. From what he understood about Canadian public schools, it was a free-for-all of kids. From kids writing in sharpie on the floor next to the lockers to kids walking around with a bunch of stickers in their faces, things just sounded so weird. That and there was absolutely no consensus on how the education system worked throughout the country (something about provinces?) or even a consensus on language. Canada was weird, from what Reki understood. And the more Langa talked about whatever he saw, the more Reki felt terrified of Canadian kids.

Langa let himself be backed into the chair, trusting Reki as he always had. He only raised an eyebrow as Reki settled in his lap. But as soon as fingers were running through his hair, pulling it back to assess the situation, Langa melted, his head falling back with the motion. A content smile appeared on his pretty lips as his eyes shut.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, dude.”

“M’not…”

Reki chuckled, still racking his fingers through the silky blue hair. With Langa not paying attention to what he was doing, Reki knew he had free reign. He could do whatever he wanted with Langa’s hair, from childish pigtails like the twins to a low and messy ponytail to… well, whatever Reki wanted, really. And with that many choices, Reki hesitated. On one hand, he could make a fool out of Langa and laugh a little at him (not in a mean way! Just in a Langa-would-look-funny way), while on the other hand, he could try something new, something that would take time, more time for his fingers to be playing with every strand of hair, more time for him to be this close to Langa.

With a little contemplation and quick attempts to see what would hold Langa’s hair best, Reki settled on braiding. If done correctly, it would hold Langa’s hair back, keeping his bangs out of his face while he baked, and it would mean that Reki would have his fingers tangling with Langa’s hair longer than if he just pulled it back in a half ponytail. Reki had done enough braids in his life to know that they took more time and patience than ponytails or pigtails. He knew that Langa would melt under his touch, sighing contently as his hair was being played with, twisted into a braid.

Reki shifted in Langa’s lap, frowning and huffing as he let the hair fall from his fingers. Initially, getting comfortable on Langa’s lap had been an act of petty revenge, hoping to get him to blush the same way Reki had when Langa crashed on his lap a few days prior, but clearly, it hadn’t worked. Langa was just too cool for all of Reki’s tactics at making him feel embarrassed. Langa never turned red, except on rare occasions like when he first told Reki that he liked him or when he said ‘I love you’ for the first time. Langa was too cool for blushing, which Reki found terribly unfair, given how easy it was to get him to blush. Just a smile of Langa’s could get him to flush, nerves twisting in his stomach.

No matter how he looked at it, there was no way Reki was getting any work done from that angle. Not only was Langa extremely distracting, but there was also no good way to braid his hair back without being behind him. So Reki got up only to be pulled back down, Langa’s eyes snapping wide open, hands gripping Reki’s hips.

“Where you going?”

“I can’t tie your hair like this, you clingy baby. I’m not going far if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“But you’re warm. Don’t go away?”

Reki chuckled as he tapped Langa’s nose. “You’re so clingy, you know that?” Langa’s pout was one of the cutest things Reki had ever seen. Langa’s childish dramatic displays were just so fun, so different from how he acted when his walls were up. “But I really gotta get up, dude. Otherwise, you’re never gonna get to those cookies.”

Langa finally gave in, grumbling a little as his grip on Reki loosened, just enough for him to slip away. His sour mood quickly faded away as Reki’s fingers found their way back into his hair, his content smile reappearing, his eyes falling shut once more. Langa might have been too cool to blush, but he still had his weaknesses.

Reki hummed as he twisted the blue hair away from Langa’s face, a braid on each side of his head before coming together in a ponytail at the back of his head. Strands poked out from the braids, too short to be braided back smoothly, but they held rather well as Reki tied them off with one of the many colorful elastics that decorated his wrists.

Those were a courtesy of Koyomi, an annoying little sister who always forgot to tie her hair until it was too late. After a few times of hearing her complain, Reki had gotten into the habit of carrying a few elastics around, which seemed to come in handy for everyone with relatively long hair around him. At first, he had stored them in his bag, then they had migrated to his pockets until they found their way around his wrists. Now, he was just known as that guy that carried hair ties around, which the girls in his class seemed to really take advantage of, asking him for elastics whenever they needed some. And Reki didn’t mind helping out, though it was a little annoying to never get them back. There were certain colors that he really liked having as they matched his hoodies, not that he would tell anyone that.

After one last assessment of his work, Reki grinned as his chin dropped onto Langa’s shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, his arm draped over Langa’s other shoulder, slightly crouched, but if it meant he could be close to Langa, then it was worth it.

“All done.”

Langa shifted ever so slightly, just enough to be looking at Reki rather than at the kitchen sink. He was smiling, that pretty smile that Reki loved so much.

“You should play with my hair more often.”

A light chuckled rumbled through Reki as he pressed a kiss to Langa’s shoulder. “You really like that, don’t you?”

“It feels nice. You’re good with your hands.”

It was an innocent remark. Reki knew that it had to be, because if it was Langa, there was no other option. There weren’t any dirty undertones to the remark, he knew that, but that didn’t stop the blush from exploding under Reki’s skin. There wasn’t any kind of raunchy joke in what Langa was saying, yet Reki still felt the twist in his gut as he straightened out, brushing off dust that he knew wasn’t there and tugging on the hem of his hoodie. Nervous laughter bubbled out of him, his eyes refusing to focus on anything.

“Right! Okay! So those cookies!”

Langa slowly turned to Reki, eyebrows pinches as he stared blankly. He hadn’t meant it like that, Reki knew that. Langa didn’t have a dirty mind. Langa was a good boy. Langa had never made a sex joke as far as Reki was aware, which meant that he wasn’t going to start now. Especially not when he was staring at Reki, looking so confused.

“What…?” His eyes snapped open, wider than Reki had ever seen in his life. His pale cheeks and ears turned a bright red as he waved his hands around frantically. “Wait! No! I didn’t mean-! I mean, I don’t know, but-!” Langa froze, his eyes squeezing shut as he tensed. He ducked his head as he always did when he embarrassed himself, but his bangs didn’t fall over his eyes as they usually did. There was no curtain protecting him from the outside world as he sat there, curled up on his chair, nails digging into the wood and his face pinched.

With a deep breath, Reki regained his composure. There was still that twist in his gut, that uncertainty, but he wasn’t going to let it linger. Not when Langa was so tense, looking so horrified by his accidental remark.

“S’okay, dude.” Langa’s eyes slowly fluttered open as Reki stroked his cheek tentatively, smiling softly at him. “It’s okay, I know what you meant. I just… I know.”

Despite the verbal reassurance, Langa did not relax. His nails still dug into the wooden chair, his ankles curling around one of the legs of the chair. He seemed so stiff that Reki couldn’t help but press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Reki knew that he didn’t do it enough, that he didn’t initiate enough kisses or cuddles or anything remotely romantic. He always waited for things to happen, never chasing them, and Reki knew that Langa would have liked him to be a little less tense, a little less hesitant, a little less scared. It wasn’t on Langa to start everything, even if Reki was scared. Even if he was terribly afraid of doing something wrong. So maybe that was why he had pressed a kiss to Langa’s mouth, the touch making the boy melt against him, tension fading away slowly.

“Don’t worry about it. Really.” A small smile traced Langa’s lips as Reki pressed another quick peck to his mouth. “But you really should get back to those cookies. You know, if you want them ready before next week?”

Langa’s fingers curled around Reki’s, cold winter against Reki’s natural summer heat.

“Can you… Can you help me a bit?”

Reki nodded enthusiastically as he pulled Langa off his chair. It was so easy to grin around him, natural as breathing. And Reki loved helping. He loved feeling useful to those he cared about. He loved feeling like others could count on him, no matter what. So whatever Langa needed, Reki would be there. Whatever Langa needed him to do, Reki would do it with a grin.

“So, first step is,” Langa stared at his phone, scrolling up and down on the cookie recipe he had found earlier, “heat the oven.”

Reki leaned against the table and watched as Langa fiddled with the buttons and knobs of the oven, his whole face pinched in concentration. Reki felt the tightness in his chest, the butterflies crashing and fluttering against his heart. He felt all his emotions bubbling up in him, ready to spill out, spill until all he knew was Langa’s adorable concentrated expression, spill until all he knew was the sweetness of Langa’s chewed lips, spill until all he knew was Langa. Langa with his serious focus, messing with the oven as if it were a time machine that required the utmost precision to avoid the collapse of the whole universe.

“So, now that that’s done,” Langa straightened out and turned back to Reki, pulling his phone out once more to check the recipe, “we need to start mixing things.”

“Did you read the whole paragraph before starting?”

“Yes.” A beat of silence. Langa glanced down at this phone, eyes skirting over the screen as he quickly scrolled down before bouncing back up to find Reki’s. “Yes, I did.”

Laughter broke from Reki’s lips as he made his way next to Langa, shoulders bumping against each other. “Alright, you tell me what you want me to do and I’m on it.”

One by one, Langa listed off the ingredients that he needed. Reki made his way around the kitchen, opening cabinet after cabinet, trying his best to find where most of the ingredients were hidden. This wasn’t his kitchen; he didn’t know how Mrs. Hasegawa organized her kitchen, but he managed. The flour was already out, sugar had been found, eggs from the fridge, and all the extra little things that made cookies soft and sweet had been eventually spotted. One by one, all the ingredients that Langa had listed off found themselves on the table next to the bowl Langa had taken out earlier.

Reki slid back into his chair, chin resting on his folded arms against the table as he watched Langa measure his ingredients one by one. He read the amounts to Langa who seemed to struggle a little, spilling next to the measuring cups as he poured or splashing as he mixed with vigor. A literal child in the kitchen, but Reki didn’t have the heart to get him to calm down. He seemed to be having so much fun, his blue eyes sparkling like snowflakes under the warm afternoon sun. As long as he wasn’t the one stuck wiping everything down, Reki would let Langa be, let him have fun with his messy attempt at making cookies.

“Dude!” Reki coughed, waving his hand around. “Be more careful with the flour! That shit is volatile!”

“I didn’t think-!” Langa scrunched his nose before sneezing into his arm. “I didn’t think it would explode like that! It doesn’t do that in movies!”

The white cloud fluttered around before falling onto the counters and floor, snowfall right there in the kitchen. The impromptus blizzard had Reki chuckling and rubbing at his nose.

“Watch a cooking show and you’ll see you’re supposed to be careful with your ingredients, man.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t go looking for things that don’t exactly interest me. And all you send me are skating vids, so maybe this is on you. Maybe you,” Langa’s blue eyes narrowed onto Reki, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “should start sending me baking videos instead.”

A sly smirk pulled at the corner of Reki’s mouth as he flicked more flour in Langa’s direction. Langa yelped, sneezing again.

“Maybe I will; no more skating for you until you learn how to be careful with flour.”

Langa shook his head, rolling his eyes and rubbing the flour out of his nose, but he didn’t bother concealing his pretty smile. “Pass me the chocolate.”

Reki slid the bag across the table, but not without stealing a handful of chocolate chips which he immediately stuffed in his mouth. Langa raised an eyebrow at him as he poured into the bowl a lot more chocolate chips than he was probably supposed to, but then again, when was there ever too much chocolate?

“Those are for the cookies, Reki.”

“C’mon! It’s chocolate! You know I never have at home.”

Langa gave the batter a mix, trying to spread the chocolate chips equally throughout the dough. Reki stretched over the table, stealing some of the cookie dough and plopping it in his mouth before Langa could swat him with the wooden spoon he was using.

“Stop stealing my cookies! And stop complaining. You have a bunch of sweet at your place.”

“Never for long.” Reki licked his thumb, getting the last of the dough he had managed to grab. “Everyone hogs them, so I barely get any.”

“I buy you sweet almost every day.”

“A personal choice?”

Reki almost missed the eyebrow raise and the playful smile as Langa turned on his heel, fetching two spoons from a drawer. “Are you telling me to stop?”

“What?” Reki took advantage of Langa’s turned back, stealing more cookie dough. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but raw cookie dough was just too good to pass up. “Never!”

Langa sighed as he came back to his bowl. Reki had successfully taken more dough, but he had left so much evidence that it was impossible for Langa to not know.

Giggles broke from Reki’s lips as he covered his head with his arms, ducking for coverage as Langa hit him repeatedly with his wooden spoon.

“Stop stealing my cookies!”

“Then stop leaving it unattended, dude! And pass the chocolate, I want more.”

Langa huffed, (sorta) gently smacking Reki on the head one last time before handing him the bag of chocolate chips. “Just don’t eat them all. My mom likes having some with her lunches and I don’t want to be scolded when she inevitably believes that I am the one who ate them all.”

Quiet calm fell back in the kitchen, Reki plopping chocolate chip after chocolate chip into his mouth while Langa went over his recipe once more, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Reki watched as Langa muttered English words, his eyes glancing around the kitchen, pointing at everything he put into the dough. And once he seemed satisfied, he got to work, scooping the dough with his two spoons and desperately trying to make them into perfect little balls. Reki watched as Langa struggled, groaning every time he dropped a spoon or when the dough didn’t fall the way he wanted. It was a little sad, just watching him try so hard yet fail so miserably.

Reki felt Langa tense, his breath hitching, as Reki’s arms caging him against the table. His hands found Langa’s, warm palms guiding the repetitive motion of scooping dough with one spoon and scraping it off with the other, while his chin rested against Langa’s shoulder. And under his touch, Langa melted, leaning back into Reki, relaxing against his chest. And just like that, Reki was snuggling his boyfriend, smiling into his shoulder as he helped him prepare the cookies for the oven.

“It’s really just,” Reki did the motion once more, scoop and scrape, his fingers tightening around Langa’s. “Just like that. You don’t have to try to get them all round and cute. They’re gonna melt in the oven anyway.”

Langa huffed, but still, he turned his head just enough to press a kiss into Reki’s hair. “I know how to make cookies, you know. I’ve watched you make enough and it’s not the first time I’m making them.”

“Really?” Reki nuzzled Langa’s shoulder, muffling his giggles. “Because you’re really shit at this, dude.”

“Thanks. Not my fault I rather just buy them instead of struggling to make them.”

“Correction-” Reki pressed a kiss to Langa’s jaw, grinning into his skin- “you steal the cookies I have at home.”

Laughing came as natural as breathing when it came to Langa and his dramatics. Laughing was inevitable when he was whipping his head to the side to look at Reki, his eyes big and blue and bewildered. And when his voice was cracking, pitchy and funny, it was impossible to not laugh, happy and bright.

“You give those to me! And your mom insisted I bring home the last batch!”

“That’s not how I remember it going.”

“Well then, if you’re just going to insult me,” Langa shook Reki off, his arms falling to his side before looping around Langa’s waist, his whole body snuggling closer to his boyfriend’s, “you’re not having any of these.”

“You’re probably gonna end up eating them all anyway, dude.”

Langa huffed. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. In fact,” Reki nuzzled Langa’s shoulder once more, bumping his nose against the skin right below Langa’s jaw, “if I remember correctly,” he grinned into the skin, “you said you loved me just yesterday.”

Langa’s hands froze mid-scoop, his whole body tensing against Reki. A wildfire ignited under his skin, the snow-white skin turning to a blaze. Wildfire like never seen before. Langa was too cool for blushing, at least until he was reminded of his sudden love declaration over a late-night meal, Reki offering him the remains of his fries.

Langa’s shoulders untensed, sagging a little as he returned to his cookie dough.

“I meant it,” he whispered, his voice a little scratchy, tainted with embarrassment. “I meant it when I said I love you.”

“I know.” Another smile was pressed onto Langa’s shoulder. “I know you mean it.”

“I love you, Reki.”

Reki’s heart flipped in his chest. Sure, he had brought it up to tease Langa, but hearing him say it again, it left Reki as big a mess as it did the night before. It left him with those thousands of butterflies in his chest and stomach; it left him with giggles threatening to break from his lips; it left him with an explosion of color in his face and ears. Because Langa loved him, truly and wholly, and he meant it. Langa had meant the words he said. He never would have said them if he hadn’t meant them. He wasn’t the type to say what Reki wanted to hear. Langa spoke honestly and freely, even if his words sometimes came out clumsily and tripping over each other.

“I know you do.”

Something squeezed in Reki’s chest as he squeezed Langa’s middle before peeling himself off of the boy. He had wanted to stay there, warm against Langa’s body as he worked methodically, scoop and scrape, but the tray had been filled, 24 cookies laying neatly before the two.

He watched as Langa made his way to the oven, carefully pushing the tray in without burning himself. He was beautiful like that, crouched in front of the oven, looking through the glass door. He was beautiful like that, his hair pulled back, strands starting to slip undone. Langa was beautiful in every way possible, no matter what he was doing. And Reki loved him. Reki loved him in every way possible. Reki loved him, loved his shaky hands, loved his funny concentrated faces, loved his blue silky hair, loved his impulsivity, loved his kindness, loved him from head to toe, inside and out. Reki loved Langa, but whenever the words started to form, they clogged in the base of his throat, refusing to come out. Saying I love you turned out to be a lot more difficult than he had anticipated.

“Don’t feel obligated to say it back,” Langa had said the night before, his face flushed as his fingers tangled with Reki’s on his lap. “Only say if when you feel like it. Take all the time you need. And,” his smile faltered for a moment, but as soon as those sky-blue eyes met Reki’s, the smile eased its way back onto Langa’s lips, “if you never feel like saying it back, that’s also okay. I don’t want you saying it because you feel like you have to. Only when it feels right. Say it back to me when you’ll mean it. Because I mean it. I mean it when I say I love you.”

Only when it feels right. When would that be? It always felt like the right moment, but at the same time, it never felt like the right moment. Saying I love you for the first time, it had to be special, didn’t it? It had to be something straight out of a Hollywood movie. It had to be grand gestures and memorable. But then again, Langa had said it in the dead of the night, in a shitty 24-hour burger joint, over a half-empty carton of fries that Reki had pushed his way. Yet his eyes had shined like a thousand snowflakes under the clear moonlight, blurting out that I love youbefore clasping his hands over his mouth. His cheeks had flushed as Reki felt everything inside him twist, scared and excited and, and… and in love. Langa was the one saying the magic words, but Reki was the one who was so madly in love at that moment. Or maybe they both were. Maybe that was why Langa was laughing, grinning, fingers intertwining with Reki’s as he said it slower this time, in a way that was so genuinely Langa. No grand gestures. No fireworks. Just Langa and Reki sunken in a shitty booth in the back of an empty restaurant, giggling and grinning and burning up.

“I guess that’s it for now.” Langa got up, brushing off the remaining flour that had clung to his jeans. “We just have to wait now?”

Something strummed through Reki’s entire body, contracting, squeezing, choking. I love you. It was there, hanging on his lips as he watched Langa straighten out, beautiful Langa with his gorgeous blue eyes skirting over the kitchen. It pounded against his chest as he really took in the scene: a messy kitchen, soft white noise bouncing against the windows, a beautiful boy leaning against a counter. It was there, everywhere. And it had Reki dreaming of a future, one with Langa in it, one where they would have a place all to themselves where they could bake cookies together and just be happy, infinitely happy, forever the two of them.

Reki knew he could be reckless. Not like Langa, but he didn’t care for the scrapes and bruises he’d get when he tried a new trick on his board. He was impulsive by nature. If he wasn’t held back, he would be on a constant shopping spree, adding even more colorful hoodies and t-shirts to his closet. Reki rarely thought things through to the end, but when it came to his heart, he was calculating to a fault. When it came to his heart, he got so caught up in his head that he lost all his impulsivity, all his recklessness. When it came to his heart, Langa had to be the first to act otherwise nothing would happen.

What was Reki afraid of? Everything. Nothing. If he acted on impulse, maybe he’d go too far, too fast. If he acted as reckless as he did when he skated, then maybe Langa would realize that he was too much. And what if what he did was weird? What would he do then? Reki had never been in a relationship, he didn’t know how he was meant to act. And asking Langa what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to act- no, that was too embarrassing. So he let Langa take the reigns on the relationship, even if he knew that Langa would have liked him to be just a little more assertive, just a little more sure of himself, just a little less afraid. He knew that it wasn’t right to have Langa make all the decisions for him, but Reki didn’t want to be pushy. At least, normally he didn’t like being pushy. But with I love you right on the tip of his tongue, love, desire hazing his mind, well…

“Hey.”

Langa jumped, his eyes growing three sizes as Reki pushed him into the counter, arms caging him once more, lips hovering over his. Langa’s breath was warm and uneven against Reki’s burning skin, something close to choked laughter. Langa was almost always the one initiating kisses and cuddles, but when Reki found the courage to act on his impulses, it always caught him off guard, leaving him a blushing mess.

“Hi?”

“You’re pretty, you know that?”

Langa relaxed, his shock starting to fade, unlike his blush. Arms circled around Reki’s waist, pulling him flush against Langa. Pretty laughter broke from his lips as they met Langa’s in a kiss.

“Is that so?” Langa said against Reki’s lips. “I don’t think you say it enough.”

They fit like the two last pieces of a puzzle, perfect against each other. With Langa’s arms around Reki’s waist and Reki’s arms around Langa’s neck, there was no leaving one another. Neither one was ready to let go, heads tilting to the side as the kisses left the realm of innocent pecks.

“You’re,” Reki gasped between kisses, “you’re so freaking beautiful. It’s,” another kiss, hot and wet, “it’s almost unfair.”

Langa was truly intoxicating, from the way his lips would quirk into a smile as he would press another kiss to Reki’s lips, slow and deep, to the way his fingers were fiddling with the stray threads on the hem of Reki’s hoodie. Langa was danger and Reki knew damn well that he was losing all his senses with every kiss that was pressed to his mouth. Langa was everything, good and perfect and so very hot.

It really didn’t take much for Reki to be breathless. All it took was a laugh of Langa’s, a touch of Langa’s, a kiss of Langa’s. Everything about Langa had him soaring high. Just one look with those heavy-lidded eyes, a flash of blue behind those long lashes, it was enough for Reki to lose himself completely to Langa. I love you.

“And you’re,” Reki laughed, panted, almost cried, “you’re so amazing. At absolutely everything.”

“Stop,” a kiss was pressed to the corner of Reki’s mouth, “stop talking.”

Reki didn’t need to be told twice, not when Langa’s mouth was pressed to his once more, their warm breaths mixing. Reki didn’t need to be told twice, not when Langa’s cold fingers were digging into Reki’s burning skin as he held him firmly against him. Reki didn’t need to be told twice, not when Langa’s tongue was licking at the seam of his lips, pressing against his, swiping against the roof of his mouth. Reki didn’t need to be told twice, not when he was whimpering into Langa’s mouth, lost to his touch, to his kisses, to his love.

Strands of blue hair slipped through Reki’s fingers, slipping from the elastic as he fisted at it. And with the little tug, Langa’s breath hitched and he melted against Reki, his fingers digging deeper into his sides.

“You,” Reki ran his fingers through Langa’s hair, freeing it from its braids as Langa let out a choked-out moan, “you really like that.”

“No?” More choked-up sounds rang against Reki’s ear as he trailed kisses along Langa’s jaw, his fingers following the natural line of his spine. Another whine as fingers moved from Reki’s hip to his arm, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise, body curving under the touch. “Shut, shut up.”

“Make me.”

It had meant to be a joke, teasing and taunting, but as Langa’s ankle curled around Reki’s, flipping him and crashing his back into the counter, everything in Reki burned. His breath hitched, his heart hammering against his chest as Langa licked at his lips, biting his kiss-swollen lips, eyes darting down as he ran his thumb over Reki’s bottom lip.

“As you wish.”

His voice was raspy, low and… And as Langa’s fingers found their way under Reki’s chin, tilting his head up as he pressed their lips together, Reki felt himself slip. His arms tightened around Langa’s neck as Langa steadied him, hips flush as he held himself up against the counter. Langa. Always Langa. Langa with his addictive kisses. Langa with his sweet kisses. Langa who always knew exactly what he was doing. Langa who always knew exactly what he wanted. Langa who never hesitated. Langa that Reki loved so much. Langa that Reki loved most in the world.

“I,” Reki pulled back as Langa chased, another kiss cutting him off. “I love you.”

The words broke out before Reki could swallow them back, a whisper against Langa’s lips. Lips that froze, the next kiss never coming. A wave of anxiety crashed against Reki’s chest, choking him. Had he messed up? Langa had told him to shut up, but he didn’t. He kept talking because all he did was talk. He was always talking, talking too much when no one wanted to hear him. Reki didn’t know how to shut up and now he ruined a good moment because he just couldn’t hold his words back any longer.

“Really?”

Langa broke into a grin, his eyes twinkling with those blue snowflakes, and Reki couldn’t help the smile that grew against his lips. His voice had come out a few octaves higher, sounding so excited and happy. And as he glowed, shined, beautiful and overjoyed, Reki melted.

“Yeah, yeah, man. I mean,” there was laughter in his voice, lighter and higher than usual as he cupped Langa’s cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin, “yeah, I do mean it. I love you, Langa. Have for a long time.”

“I love you too. So, so much.”

Both broke into giggles against each other, wide grins pressed together in a poor attempt at a kiss. It was hard to kiss when they were both smiling so big, but it was even harder to pull apart. All Reki wanted was to be close to Langa, whispering “I love you” over and over against his boyfriend’s lips. All it took was saying once for Reki to want to say it over and over, every day until he couldn’t speak anymore. He was ready to say it now and forever.

Slow kisses filled Reki’s head and heart. There was no need to rush; they had forever, after all. There was need to be rushed and heated. Things could be taken one step at a time, slow and steady. They could enjoy the calm, peaceful moment, live blissfully in the present. And when Langa was touching him like that, his thumb rubbing comforting circled in the small of Reki’s back, it was wonderful. Peaceful and calm and so, so comforting. Nothing could pull them apart. Nothing could ruin-

Reki yelped as the smoke detector blared throughout the apartment. Langa scrambled away, muttering English curses under his breath as he opened every window in the room before pulling the oven door open to take out the burnt cookies.

Reki simply watched, frozen against the counter, his hand covering half his face. He felt the mixture of horror and laughter bubbling up in his chest as he watched Langa run around, controlling the situation. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the blaring alarm to shut off, the apartment plunged back into silence. And when Langa crashed next to Reki, elbows pressed into the counter and pushing his bangs away from his eyes as he huffed, Reki dropped his head onto Langa’s shoulder, moving closer.

“Well shit, man. Didn’t you put on a timer or something?”

Langa pursed his lips as he glanced at Reki. “I was going to. But then someone,” he flicked Reki’s forehead playfully, but Reki didn’t miss the blush creeping up his neck, “jumped me before I could. And then I forgot.”

Reki giggled into Langa’s shoulder, arms wrapping around his middle to hug him. When Langa put it like that, it was a little embarrassing. Reki who had always been so careful, who was always so calculating when it came to his heart, who was also always so caught up in his own head when it came to love and Langa, he had let himself get carried away. He had let himself get so carried away that the cookies had burnt. He was the reason their cookies were charred and good for the trash.

“Reki? Reki!” Reki glanced up at Langa who was shifting to face him. Langa held his face so gently, his thumb stroking Reki’s damp cheeks. “Reki, what’s wrong?”

“I burned your cookies,” Reki laughed. He felt the tears in the corner of his eyes, he felt them streaming down his cheeks, but they weren’t from sadness or distress, even if he was gasping, choking, hiccupping as Langa continued brushing the tears away. These were tears of laughter, purely joyful and ridiculous. “Your cookies burned because of me, man!”

“No, no, my love.” Langa peppered kisses all over Reki’s face, from his cheeks to his nose to his eyebrow to his forehead. “It’s not your fault, my love. I would have burned them regardless.”

Reki felt his heart flutter as he raised an eyebrow at Langa. “My love?”

Langa froze mid-kiss, his fingers going rigid against Reki’s cheeks as he tensed. “Too soon?”

Was it too soon? Reki shook his head. It absolutely was not too soon. Reki kept shaking his head, laughter sweet on his lips as he beckoned Langa closer.

“Never.”

It had always been a dream of Reki’s to be called “my love.” It was one of those things he had heard in movies and in tv shows when he was young, and ever since he had wanted to find himself someone who would call him all those cute pet names that they said in his mom’s shows. My love. Sweetheart. Darling. Honey. All those cute little pet names that would make his heart flutter when he thought of someone saying them to him.

With time, he had given up on that dream – “those are just for girls,” his friends had told a few years back when he had first expressed his desire to be called so – but hearing the pet name come out of Langa’s mouth, it had Reki’s heart soaring. They weren’t just for girls. It wasn’t just a stupid fantasy of his. It wasn’t because Langa was there, whispering his name followed by “my love” over and over into his skin, pressing kisses all over his face, damp cheeks and all.

When Langa’s lips met Reki’s in a kiss, it was sweet as ever. Langa’s arms found their home around Reki’s waist while Reki’s fingers fiddled with a stray lock of blue hair, their smiles pressed together. It was just so easy to be in love with Langa, beautiful Langa, beautiful Langa with his funny nose that would bump against Reki’s every time he would pull back to breath before pressing another kiss to Reki’s lips. Beautiful Langa who only seemed to only care for Reki. Beautiful Langa who called Reki his love and meant it.

“You’re,” Reki rubbed his nose against Langa’s affectionately, “you’re so shit at making cookies, you know that?”

Langa shut his eyes as he took a deep breath, his usual half-hearted annoyance appearing on his face. Reki chuckled against him, shaking the two ever so slightly. It was just so much fun to tease Langa, lovingly making fun of him.

“Ever the romantic, aren’t you?”

“You said you liked honesty, so I’m just being honest with you. You’re absolute shit at baking, man, but you’re my shitty baker.”

“Can’t,” Langa inhaled sharply, “can’t I have just one nice moment?”

Reki twirled a lock of Langa’s hair around his finger before pushing himself up, catching Langa’s lips in a kiss. “We are having a nice moment. You just don’t like that you’re finally bad at something.” Another short and sweet kiss was pressed to Langa’s lips. “But I still love you. I love you even if you would be an absolutely shitty househusband.”

“I would be-! Wait, backtrack.” Langa quirked an eyebrow as a sly smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “You tell me you love me for the first time like 20, 30 minutes ago and you’re already thinking of marriage?” Reki gulped as Langa leaned in, close enough to feel his every short breath, but far enough to not be able to kiss him quiet. “Moving a little fast, don’t you think?”

“I-!” Reki huffed, straightening himself out. He felt the burn in his ears and in his face, but he persisted. He was not going to be tongue-tied. “You know what? Yeah. I am. But only because you-” he jabbed Langa’s chest, Langa who was laughing so freely and prettily- “started it by saying you wanted to skate infinitely with me! So, who’s moving fast now, huh?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d say yes.”

“Excuse me?” Reki was taken aback by the statement, especially when the implication hit him like a truck. Or a car. He scrunched his nose, eyes narrowing onto Langa. “Well bold of you to assume I’d be the one proposing.”

“I confessed first!” Langa’s eyes were big and round as he held a hand to his heart. “And I said I love you first! The least you can do is… It’s the least you could do!”

“Fine!” Reki pushed himself up onto the counter, his legs dangling in the open air. His head fell to the side as he swayed side to side. A grin stretched across his face as he stuck his tongue out playful. “I’ll propose the day you manage to make me an amazing cookie. The best cookie I’ll ever eat.”

“Oh c’mon! Low blow,” Langa whined, all pouty and cute. “That’s gonna take forever, Reki.”

“Then start working on it, Pretty Boy.”

Langa huffed, peeling himself off of the counter only to squeeze his way between Reki’s knees. Determination sparkled in his eyes as his entire focus fixated on his boyfriend. His fingers dug into Reki’s thighs as the boy’s ankles hooked behind his back, pulling his hips into the counter. And as soon as Reki’s hands were cupping his face, all signs of a pout faded.

“You know what?” Reki hummed, playing with the blue bangs as he had the habit of doing. It kept his hands busy while he focused on his boyfriend’s moving mouth. “I’m gonna make you the best fucking cookie ever and then you’ll be stuck with me until the end of infinity.”

A smile pulled on the corners of Reki’s mouth as he leaned down, meeting Langa in the middle for yet another sweet kiss. He had lost count of how many they had shared in the past hour or so, but Reki couldn’t be bothered by that. When it was just him and Langa, it didn’t matter how many kisses were shared, as long as they could be close, smiling and having fun. But it definitely felt good to be able to kiss Langa so freely, alone in the apartment. There was nothing to worry about as Langa’s fingers dug into his jeans, pushing himself up, chasing Reki’s mouth every time he pulled back to laugh. There was nothing to worry about as his fingers raked through Langa’s hair, playing with the locks as he got to kiss his boyfriend. There was nothing to worry about, not even the thousands of butterflies that erupted in his stomach, not even the giggles that threatened to break from his lips, not even the clumsy attempts at copying Langa and the clumsier attempts at making Langa feel as good as he did. Reki didn’t have to worry about anything because Langa too seemed lost to his touch, to his kisses, to his love. Because just like Reki, Langa was in love.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed against Langa’s lips, pretty and pink and oh so sweet. “I can’t wait to love you forever.”

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