#i really do love drawing and its nice to be able to share my silly thoughts on it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashasmonsters · 3 years

Text

The Thru-Hiker

Female reader x Male mothperson (Desmond)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: Full-on smut, references to unhappy breakups

Words: 5.1k

Note: Here's the story that earns me the "18+" in my description. This is my first time making anything this smutty public, so any feedback or criticism would be appreciated. Enjoy!

You raised the viewfinder to your eye. The rolling hills fit within the frame-lines neatly, the trail before you leading straight down the middle and towards the horizon. With a satisfying click the shutter fired. You lowered the camera and cranked the film advance lever, confident that shot would turn out well. You let the camera dangle from your shoulder once again as you looked around: this spot was close enough to the main trail that you wouldn't need any "breadcrumbs" to lead you back to it in the morning. The sun would finish setting in an hour or so, and bird chirps had given way to trilling crickets and cicadas. It was warm enough that you didn't need to build a fire. Your stove would do just fine.

"That's a nice camera."

You turned towards the voice. Standing behind you, closer to the main trail and obscured slightly by foliage, loomed a lanky mothman. He wore clothes appropriate for hiking the Appalachian trail, though you hadn't seen him around. This meant he was quick or hiking the opposite direction as you.

"Thanks." You answered. He pushed a few low-hanging twigs out of the way and took a step towards you.

"Is that a..." he paused, his brow furrowing above his red compound eyes as he searched for a word, "Yashica, right?"

"Mamiya, actually." You answered, hefting the brick-shaped camera from your hip where it dangled. "It's been a pain to hike with, but I love it all the same."

"I'm sure you've got some excellent shots in that thing. I'm Desmond." He closed the remaining distance and tenderly extended a chitinous claw. You shook it in turn and returned his greeting.

"I don't believe I've seen you on the trail, Desmond," you said, "are you using those wings or hiking southbound?"

"Oh, I'm hiking southbound. Flying would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that is a silly question." You lowered your eyes and made eye contact with his hiking boots. "I'm heading northbound."

"Hm. You must have started the trail pretty recently."

"That's right. I started maybe three weeks ago. You must be pretty close to finishing if you're going southbound."

"Been on the trail for five months." He answered.

"Wow." You breathed. Maybe mothmen wore it better, but he certainly looked neat for having lived in the wilderness for almost half a year. You caught yourself staring. "Um, got any tips for a relatively fresh hiker like me?"

"Take your time and enjoy yourself." He said, looking down at you. "The trail is going to take the better part of a year from you no matter what, so there's no point in rushing it."

"Thanks for the advice." A pause. You saw your reflection in his ruby eyes. "Anyway... I don't want to keep you from the trail, being nocturnal and all." You failed to suppress a tinge of longing in your voice. The sun started to kiss the horizon, making the canopy above you look like it was on fire.

"Well, actually..." Desmond rested a claw on the back of his neck fluff, "I was going to ask if you would share this spot with me. It's going to be a full moon and I planned to take a rest to enjoy it."

"Oh," you said, glad the sunset was masking your blush, "that should be fine, then."

"I don't want to impose, I could always find my own—"

"No, really, it's fine." You said, gesturing around the sizeable clearing. "We're sharing a view, not a cot. I don't mind."

"Ah, right." He played with his neck fluff again. "Well then, let's not waste the daylight." You nodded and slid your pack off.

Your sleeping arrangements for the trail had been spartan, but still comfortable. You carried a thin foam pad which rolled up nicely and fit under your sleeping bag, a tarp with hooks for hanging from above, a camp stove, and a sack to keep your food strung up a branch and away from animals.

All of this was set up fairly quickly since Desmond was helping you. He was quite tall, which made stringing up the extra food much easier than when you had done it alone. In no time, your foam pad was safely encircled by your hanging tarp and your stove was boiling a pot of water. Tonight's dinner was an Appalachian Trail classic: dehydrated cheesy rice. You took the initiative to invoke full-on luxury by adding a handful of equally dehydrated broccoli florets. You had a guest to entertain, after all.

"Thanks for making me breakfast. Dinner, in your case." Desmond said. The dim blue light from the camp stove caught only the very edges of his chitinous frame. His red eyes shone bright like a cat's through the steam from the culinary masterpiece cooking between you two.

"Consider it my treat." You smiled back. There was a pause, so you pulled a topic from the air. "Are you a photographer too? Not many people can tell apart the brands of these old things." You patted your Mamiya camera as if it were a tiny metal lapdog.

"Ah, no," He said, almost defensively, "if you have compound eyes like me, you can't really look through viewfinders. It just doesn't work."

"Right, sorry." You rubbed the back of your neck. "Where does your camera knowledge come from, then?"

"Well... you know the old mothpeople stereotype about how we like light?"

"Um." You spoke carefully. "I have heard of it."

"I kinda live up to that stereotype. Like, very much. It's why I wanted to stop here to watch the full moon."

"Okay, but how does that tie into cameras?"

"It's kind of embarrassing." He fidgeted with his long white neck fuzz. "It's the flash. When it goes off, it's like... like..."

"Like a drug?" You finished for him.

"No! Not like that. It's not addictive... I don't think. It's more like... what's that thing humans do with their nails and their skin?"

"Like scratching an itch?"

"Yes! Exactly." He said excitedly. "I don't itch, but if I did, I imagined it would feel like when a camera flash goes off."

You chuckled even though you knew he was a little embarrassed. This whole situation was just too absurd, too odd.

"So you're like a connoisseur of camera flashes." A pause. He lowered his gaze.

"Mamiyas have the best one." You chuckled again.

"Well, then." You pulled your camera from your bag and held it before you. "May I take your portrait?"

"If it's no trouble," his antennae perked up, "yes please."

Wrestling the camera into shooting position, you flipped the viewfinder open and aimed it squarely at him. The scene fit perfectly within the frame-lines; the glowing blue stove flames in the foreground and Desmond's red eyes neatly in the middle.

"Looks good to me." You said, pressing the flash release. The flash, a piece of metal the size of your thumb, sprung out of the camera and whined as the battery charged it.

"Oh, wow." He noted. You pressed the shutter—

"Goddamn!" Desmond cried, shuddering. Briefly, a low chirr seemed to emanate from him. "Pardon my French. That was good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Most people hate when I ask to take their portrait." You cranked the film advance lever and smiled. You returned your camera to its place in your bag, then... remembered there was a meal on the stove. "Crap, I hope the bottom isn't burning." You said, quickly grabbing the stirring spoon and scraping the bottom of the pot. You continued until you were sure the food was in good shape.

"You know, when I thought about making this trek, I was worried about getting lonely. Like I wouldn't be able to put up with just myself for so long... but I've already met so many people and they've all been kind." You continued stirring the meal.

"Then what made you consider it in the first place?" Desmond asked, cocking an antenna.

"Oh... you know... adventure." You lied. The resulting pause made you painfully aware of how bad of a liar you are. The cheesy rice bubbled and spat steam at you as if heckling your poor performance.

"I'd believe that if you had a fedora and a whip. And knew where the holy grail was." He chuckled, his mandibles clicking.

"What?"

"Ah, just a stupid joke. There's these old movies..." He cut himself off and extended an empty claw, taking the spoon from you and making it his turn to stir. "I don't want to tell you your business, but everybody I've met in the past five months comes to the trail to run from something."

"Well... you're right that it's definitely my business." You tried not to scowl. The turn in conversation had resurrected an unpleasant feeling in your heart; something in the same neighborhood as shame or sadness.

"Not if what you're running from is the law and you're a serial killer or something. Then that's definitely my business." He clicked once more. His attempt to lighten the conversation didn't help that feeling much. The cheesy rice heckled him this time.

"I'm not a serial killer, I promise." You started, drawing in a sharp breath. Perhaps you just needed to vent. Maybe that would ease this malaise. "Why don't you start? Tell me what you're running from first, then I'll tell you about me." You took the stirring spoon back from him. He ran a claw down his face.

"I'm running from a breakup. We dated for three years." He sighed.

"I'm... sorry." You said, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't apologize; not unless you're the girl she ran off with." His mandibles clicked weakly. "I'm kidding. She didn't run off or anything. She didn't even cheat. She just realized that men weren't for her."

You raised an eyebrow. "Three whole years?"

"It didn't take her that long to realize it, just that long to work up the courage to tell me. Maybe I wasn't her true love, but she cared about me a lot. She was so scared of hurting me that she bottled it up for most of that time."

"You didn't want to remain friends?"

"I did— and I still do. I... I just said three things: 'I need some time to process this,' 'I'm in a lot of pain but it's not your fault,' and 'I'm going hiking for six months, call me back when I'm done.' That's all I could think of in the moment, and now I'm here."

"That's rough."

"You're telling me." His shoulders dropped. "I'm used to breakups with jerks. That I can make peace with, because then it's like a problem that solves itself. Jerk breaks up with you, therefore no more jerk to deal with. But... when it's someone that you love, that you want the best for, and that means they have to move on... that's something I'm still trying to work out." He sighed hard and lowered his crimson eyes. "I think the rice is done."

You were so caught up in his pained explanation that you lost track of time. You quickly turned off the camp stove and set the pot on the ground.

"Thanks for reminding me." You grabbed your enamel bowl as he readied his and started dishing out the rice and broccoli. You both sat there in silence, enjoying the feeling of hot food in hand. "Anyway, I guess it's my turn to share."

"Please. I wouldn't want to dump my problems on you without hearing out yours."

"I had a breakup too, though honestly I think mine wasn't as rough as yours." You said.

"We all go through different things. It's not a contest." Desmond said, idly poking his steaming meal. "Tell me about it, if you want."

So you did. Over the course of the meal, you told Desmond all about your past relationship: the fights you had with your ex, the nights spent in separate sleeping arrangements, the endless worry over how much of it was your fault. He nodded sympathetically with each painful memory you unraveled to him. Remembering it all made you feel worse, but having him listen made it feel much better. When you had no more to say, he stared at you. You saw yourself reflected in his eyes. Your spoon was trembling.

"It's okay to cry. I won't mind." Was all Desmond said before you had to set down your food and hold your face in your hands. It's like you had been saving up a surplus of tears throughout all these events and just barely they were escaping you. You could hear Desmond awkwardly scoot over in the dirt to your side before he offered a rigid shoulder to you.

"Chitin isn't exactly memory foam, but..." You rested your head on him without a second thought. One of his claws found its way to your shoulder and you felt better for it. This was the first time you had mentioned your breakup out loud and unquestionably the first time anyone had offered you a shoulder to cry on, literally or figuratively. You quickly came to find even Desmond's exoskeleton quite comfortable.

"Thanks for listening." You said as your sobs started to slow. He plainly chirred in response, making his grip on your shoulder a little tighter. His embrace was the first one you had felt since the breakup. You felt warm and safe in a way you had previously only had with your ex long ago. His neck fluff tickled you as he leaned his head onto yours.

"It's okay." You could feel his mandibles nudge your cheek as he spoke. "I know how hard it is." Your composure returned, and you stilled yourself against him. You finally removed your hands from your face, your eyes bloodshot.

"I'm glad I'm not wearing makeup." You chuckled weakly. "Otherwise my cheeks would look like a barcode right now."

"That's the spirit. Enjoy the little things." He rubbed your shoulder. "That's what the trail is all about."

You found yourself naturally holding Desmond closer, burying yourself in his neck fluff and wrapping an arm around his side as he held you. He smelled like pine and smoke. You grabbed your bowl of food once more and resumed eating, not leaving Desmond's side.

"I'm sorry for smearing my tears all over you." You said, coming back to reality. The taste of rehydrated cheesy rice wasn't great, but it was warm and familiar. Combined with Desmond's arm wrapped around you, the pain and baggage from the breakup left you like grime after a shower.

"It's alright." He said. "If moths could cry, I'd be crying all over you too. We're in the same shitty breakup boat."

He and you sat there together, finishing the meal. The camp stove had been turned off for a while now, and the only warmth you felt was your own, reflected off his chitin. The pause was permeated by lesser insects chirping and wind gently rustling the branches above. As you finished your food, you became painfully aware that Desmond couldn't hold you forever. He'd have to get in his sleeping bag eventually, and in the morning, continue his hike to nowhere other than your distant memories. Or, maybe...

"Want to share my sleeping bag with me?" The words left your mouth before you could even react. A second later, you realized what you had said and your heart raced. Your face found itself hidden in your hands again.

Why the fuck would you say that? Are you crazy? How would you feel if he randomly propositioned you for sex, huh? To which your responded to yourself with, Screw it, I'd be down for that.

Oh well. The fact he'd leave forever in the morning was both a blessing and a curse... but for now, mostly a blessing. It didn't matter if you were "rebounding" or doing something impulsive. Whatever happened tonight would stay in tonight. You and him would go your separate ways and there wouldn't be any regrets to be had. You practically held your breath as he processed what you said; the pause felt infinitely long.

"I'd love to." He broke the silence, his mandibles clicking more than usual. "Unless you're having second thoughts."

You looked up at him and shook your head. Wordlessly, he took your hand stood up with you. You led him to your dangling tarp wherein your sleeping bag and foam pad rested. Luxurious it was not, but as you slapped aside the flap and pulled Desmond in behind you, little else other than him was on your mind. You sat down on your "bed" and turned round, looking at him. His saucer-sized red eyes glowed as they met your gaze. He stepped closer.

"You're sure?" He said, kneeling before you. "I don't want to—"

You leaned forward and grabbed his head, clumsily planting a kiss where his mouth would be if he was human. It seemed to do the trick; he gasped and relaxed, his mandibles caressing your cheeks. You pulled back to breathe.

"I'm not asking you to marry me." You planted another kiss on him, tugging on his neck fluff. "I'm asking you to keep me company tonight."

"If you insist." He clicked. Something in his tone changed. For the first time his voice had timbre and need. He had left his tone suited for polite conversation and jokes outside your tarp. Here on your twin-sized foam pad, all pretenses were gone. You both knew you were going to give yourselves to each other; yet he surprised you by tugging the neck of your shirt down and scattering little kisses from your chin to your collarbone with his proboscis. It was rough and leathery and frankly didn't feel like anything you had touched before. You shuddered when he took it with him, descending past your breasts and peeling your shirt off your belly.

"Desmond..." You sighed, the only thing keeping this encounter casual being the button on your jeans.

"Everything alright so far?" He looked up at you with his large eyes, his mandibles brushing against your thigh as he spoke.

"Excellent." You breathed, resting a hand on the back of his neck fluff. "Please..." You used the same hand to ever-so-gently nudge him closer to your midst, which was already roiling with burning need. With a single claw, he carefully undid the button and zipper. You shimmied out of your jeans until his neck fluff tickled the inside of your exposed thighs; your underwear soon followed. He clicked some more as you fully exposed your entrance to him, his eyes studying you and his claws gently finding their way to each of your legs.

"Forgive me, it's been a while." He said as he lowered his face into you. You reclined further, only gazing upwards to the tarp and a tiny patch of starry sky.

"Don't talk, just— Ah!" He pulled a gasp from you as he began his ministrations. With your head resting on the foam pad, you just closed your eyes and let the sensations fill you. Something of his, you weren't quite sure what, playfully danced around the edges of your entrance until it found its mark. It gently flicked across that tender nub and your hips bucked in response. You held his neck plumage tighter, desperately tugging him closer to you.

"Keep going, that's— oh, that's perfect..." He didn't resist your pull. If anything, as his fuzz tickled you and his mandibles started to prod at your folds he increased his fervor. Relentlessly he played across all parts of you at once. Hard chitinous mandibles spread you open while his proboscis felt like it was everywhere. It rubbed your bead with every advance it made into you, filling you with a tingling warmth that spread throughout your whole body. He didn't let up at all, your breath hitching and leaving you as moans. You rocked your hips and whined. Harder and harder, rhythmically to a rapidly increasing tempo. You gripped him tighter, burying his face into you. Ecstasy built within your core with each surge of his "tongue" until you could hold on no longer.

"Oh, oh!" You cried, your body seizing and legs locking around his shoulders. Pleasure crackled around your whole body and there, in the dark with Desmond wordlessly working you, you weren't sure how much time you spent at the peak. Slowly, the sparks behind your eyes stopped flying. Your breath resumed its normal rhythm. Lifting your head off your sleeping bag, you made eye contact with his glowing red orbs, the only source of light under your tarp.

"How did I do?" He chittered, his grin smug enough for you to sense even in the darkness.

"You were fantastic." You indulged him, running your hand through his fuzz as he crawled over top of you. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"I didn't tire you out, did I?" He asked before descending upon you and kissing you lightly. With the gap between you two closed, you felt something tumescent and twitching under his shorts brush against you.

"I suppose I can stay up some more." You giggled as his fuzz tickled your collarbone. "I'll just sleep in."

"Glad to hear it." Desmond rasped. His voice grew ragged as he nipped at your neck, cradling your chin in one claw and using the other to undo his shorts. In the darkness, you could only feel something slick, smooth, and long come to rest on your belly. You squeezed your thighs around it. Desmond immediately chirred louder than before, sounding like a baritone version of the insects outside. His deep timbre resonated inside you.

"Excited?" You teased, his length completely at your mercy as you held it between your legs.

"I've forgotten how warm humans feel." He rumbled.

"Can I jog your memory?"

"Please."

You released him from your thighs and reached down with a hand. You felt the entirety of his length in your grasp; it was delightfully slick and uniform with pleasant little ridges to encounter as your hand traveled towards his base. You grasped it gently, eliciting more bassy chitters from him as you angled it towards your entrance. You fumbled a bit in the darkness, but after a few tries his tip rested at your threshold. His eyes met yours.

"Ready?" He clicked.

"Go ahead." You gripped his shoulders and pulled him close, nestling your face in his fluff as he started entering you. His hips slowly began to close the distance, each ridge on his length pushing a squeak out of you. His pace was deliciously slow. You had just enough time to adjust but not to catch your breath. All you could do was hold him tight in the darkness, nothing but the sensation and his chirring to occupy your mind. It felt like an eternity of slowly being filled by him. Eventually, cool chitin met your wet bundle of nerves, sending electric pleasure up your spine and forcing a gasp out of you.

"That's all of it." He grunted, his body completely flush with yours. "Do you feel alright?"

"Give me a moment." you said, exhaling sharply. The sensation of fullness with him hilted completely within you took your breath away. Little moans escaped you as his shaft quivered inside your depths. Embracing him, you found a steady breathing rhythm once more. "Okay, you can move."

With only chitters in response, he buried his head in the nape of your neck, his mandibles poking and prodding as he peppered you with kisses. His hardness withdrew just as slowly as when he entered you, then returned with a steady tempo. Each time his hips rocked you moaned into his fuzz. You imagined if you and Desmond had met at a different time or a different place, you'd be voicing your pleasures into a pillow. Since he had started his rhythmic thrusts, Desmond held a low, purring chirr that surged each time his pelvis met yours.

He chittered something specific, completely forgoing English as he picked up speed. He released your shoulders from his grasp. Changing position, he now kneeled upright with his knees on either side of your rear and his claws firmly gripping your thighs. The new leverage and angle made you squeal. He pumped in earnest now, both the speed and impact making you moan with nothing to stifle your voice.

"Desmond!" You cried, one hand splayed above your head and the other reaching down to hold your sensitive bead, "Keep going!" His pace remained constant. The low chirr grew into a growl. He pounded over and over, his hips slamming into your ass. As if it took considerable effort, he wrestled his chitters back into grunting speech you could understand.

"Close," he said sharply, "getting close!" You decided against speaking, instead locking your ankles behind him and rubbing your nub feverishly to meet him at the brink. His pace quickened even more. His claws squeezed your thighs as he desperately held onto you— into you, his thrusts remaining deeper inside you as they mounted in strength. His chirring returned, ascending in volume and pitch into a strangled, desperate call. His gaze snapped skyward and his back arched and he desperately pulled at your entire body in an effort to seat himself as deep within you as he could. You cried out in time with him. Your voice reached its limits. You rubbed yourself with abandon as you felt his cock fire within you with great trembling pulses. The pleasure within you mounted, growing until it erupted with a crackling warmth that left you quivering and crying out. He held himself as deep as he could go, grinding his hips into yours. Hissing, he lowered himself upon you once more and kissed you hard. You wailed into his mandibles as you rode out your peak. His hard chitin ground into your nub and held you at your limit before his rolling hips finally relented. Still, but remaining deep within you, he broke away from the kiss. You caught your breath as your eyes locked.

"Goodness..." You panted. Your face burned. Streaks of cool wetness rolled from your eyes down your cheeks. Desmond's chirring slowed into nothingness. The only sounds left were your breathing and nature outside.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his usual tone returning slowly.

"I'm great, Desmond," You smiled, "but you managed to tire me out this time." He clicked, then slowly withdrew his softening length from your sensitive core. You felt something ooze out of you, but were too exhausted to do anything about it.

"Sleep, please." He said, stroking your hair with a claw. "I'll be right here. Don't worry about anything else."

When morning arrived, the hole in the roof of your tarp acted as a skylight. You had awoken fortuitously just before the golden beam would have shone burning rays straight into your eyes. You definitely slept in, but found yourself fully clothed. You expected to feel something regretfully sticky and wet in your underwear, but you were completely clean. For a moment, you considered that last night might have been a dream. That line of thought was cut short by the sound of boiling water and the smell of coffee creeping into your tarp.

You emerged to find Desmond sitting in front of a small fire, emptying granules of instant coffee into a pot.

"Coffee?" He offered. "It'll be done in a bit."

"Thank you, Desmond." You sat in the same spot as you did last night over dinner. The silence that followed was comfortable and warm, unlike last night's awkward pauses. You watched him shake the pot with a claw as the sun warmed you. "I guess I should also thank you for, um, cleaning me up. I kinda passed out on you there. Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm nocturnal, remember?" He looked up at you and grinned. "It felt good to take care of a sleeping human again. It reminded me of old times." His grin softened into a gentle smile. The instant coffee had fully dissolved and he pulled the pot from the fire. He filled, then offered you an enamel mug which you accepted. The aroma was cheap and comforting.

"I'm going to miss you." You held the mug tightly. You didn't meet his eyes as you spoke, instead staring into the coffee as if it would tell you what to do.

"Me too." Desmond responded.

"Could we... could you..." You searched for the best way to ask. "Would you want to be with me?" Desmond released a slow chitter. He shook his head, and his soft smile shifted further into a shallow frown.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I wouldn't feel comfortable whisking you away three weeks after your breakup. Hell, I'm five months out from my own and I'm still not sure about where I am emotionally." You nodded in response. The coffee in your hands cooled in the resulting silence.

"I guess this is where we part ways, then." You sighed.

"Maybe..." He finally met your gaze. "You're hiking northbound. That means you'll finish in what, five more months?"

"Four if I hurry."

"The trail ends in Maine. There's this tiny, tiny town up there." He mused. "When you finish the trail, look for me around town. I'll be there. If you still want to be with me... then we could pursue a relationship like normal people. Coffee dates and stuff. If not... well, I'll buy you lunch."

"Is that another one of your movie references?" You chuckled. His plan sounded like something straight out of a cheesy rom-com.

"I'm serious." He explained. "My mom lives up there, and I've got nowhere else to be in four to five months."

"How am I supposed to find you?"

"I'm pretty sure the town population is in the double digits, and I'm definitely sure that me and my mom are the only mothpeople there." You considered his offer. It was all you had to look forward to, really.

"Let's shake on it." You extended a hand to him over the dying embers. He reached out to meet you, but then suddenly paused. "What's wrong?" You asked, a pang of fear striking you.

"I have one condition: when you inevitably run into my mom, our story has to be something other than, 'we met up on the trail and had sex after an embarrassingly short conversation and a camera flash,' okay?" You burst into laughter, as did he. He took your hand in his claw and shook enthusiastically.

"We have a deal." You answered. "Don't worry, I'll come up with something good."

"You better. You've got four-to-five months to craft it." He clicked. You smiled.

When you both finished your coffee, you gave him a hug and enjoyed the feeling of his neck fuzz on your cheek one last time. The fire had gone out, you packed up your tarp and sleeping bag, and you took a few steps north on the trail. You stopped soon after and turned, watching him go. He disappeared into the foliage. Sighing, you resumed your hike. To pass the time you talked to yourself.

"Ah, so nice to meet you, Mrs. Moth-mom. Yes, of course, we met at a pottery class."

No! Stupid.

"We were flying kites in the park, and ours got tangled up together—"

Now you sound like you're referencing sappy rom-coms.

You sighed. At least you'd have a while to come up with something convincing.

#monster x reader #lemon #male mothperson x female reader #mothman x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster love #female reader

689 notes · View notes

solaeter · 3 years

Text

Confession - Megumi Fushiguro

I’m dealing with a doubt spell so writing is kinda hard, but I’ll get past it sooner or later :’) Word Count: 1,670

Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to look for.

Mutual pining felt like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, feelings were shared without the worry of denial.

On the other hand..

Neither party could take the initiative to admit these said feelings.

Everyone and their mother could tell that [Name] and Megumi had some serious feelings for one another. You were the only one outside of Nobara and Itadori that he'd hang out with. Hell, he knew you longer than he knew them and tried his best to avoid having you meet them.

Cause as soon as it happened, the bombardment of questions rang through the air. Itadori and Nobara lingered dangerously close, inspecting you and Megumi.

"Since when does Fushiguro have a girlfriend?" Nobara questioned, squinting at you. Her gaze made you shift and her words had your cheeks burning.

"We're not–"

"Lemme guess," Itadori cut you off and Megumi sighs, "This little lady is the only one who can make the great Fushiguro crumble! Am I right??" He asked, knuckle bumping Nobara once they seen the obvious blush spread across your face and Megumi's.

Now you see why he tried to avoid this meeting, even after you questioned why. They were like pesky little rats, itching for information that wasn't their business. But you couldn't blame them, at least they cared.

"We're not dating. She's just a friend." Megumi mumbled, clearly irritated, if not embarrassed. Deep down he wanted to admit that you meant something more to him. God he loved you, but actually coming forth with that confession felt more difficult than any task he's been assigned to.

You on the other hand, also wanted to profess your long harbored feelings. Ever since you met Megumi in middle school, you always found him pretty. Especially when he beat up the bullies, goodness it made your heart flutter.

"What he said. We've been friends since middle school." You chirped, offering a smile to the two observers. Nobara crossed her arms. She's watched plenty of romantic dramas, comedies and all the works to know that you and Megumi were hard-core pining.

"I don't know," She starts, walking around the two of you, "There's something more. Something neither one of you can admit. Don't you agree dumbo?" She looked back at Itadori who blinked at the sudden nickname.

"Yes?" He tilted his head and when she shot him a look that meant death, he nodded quickly. "Yes! Absolutely! I think you two need to have a serious chat."

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only handle so much of these two even though he knew they were right. You also knew what they said was right. But how? How can one admit feelings? Especially if it ruins the friendship? You'd be devastated.

But for now, you both needed an exit. You pull out your phone and glance at it. Maybe you had an idea.

"I left something back in my locker that I need for tonight. Wanna join me?" You elbow Megumi, who looks at you as if you were a saint. He nods, grabs your arm and drags you away while ignoring the two behind you.

"Sorry about those two, they're...something." Megumi decided to be polite instead of rude, after all they did care about him. You hook your arm through his and smile.

"It's fine, you three have interesting chemistry. I think they're good for you since I can't be around all the time." You didn't like that Megumi had to attend a school for his powers, but you were also happy for him. The selfish side of you wanted to keep him to yourself, just like it had been for years.

"You think so?"

"Yep, you just gotta open up a little when you're ready. Let them see what makes you so amazing." You gush and Megumi looks away, the praise causing his cheeks to tint with a shade of pink.

The two of you walk in peaceful silence, arm in arm until you both reach the school gates. Luckily they didn't lock up for another hour, but you didn't really need anything. Megumi wasn't stupid, he knew it was nothing more than an excuse, yet you made the trip here anyways.

"So.." You break the silence and separate from Megumi, who watched you move in front of him, your school bag hitting the ground with a thud. "Can we uh..talk about something?"

Megumi felt his stomach lurch and the contents of his lunch threatened to come up. Usually when someone wanted to talk, it could be good or bad. Considering his luck, Megumi only assumed it had to be bad. Yet he remained composed and simply nodded, choosing not to talk in case he faltered.

"I really don't know how to uh..bring this up." You fiddled with your hands, avoiding Megumi's worried gaze and kicked a random rock into the street. The looming silence that followed felt heavy and nearly made him lose his mind.

"Bring what up?" He urged quietly, crossing his arms just to keep himself busy for less than a second. His mind reeled and he didn't even consider the possibility of a confession, well at least from you. He's been trying to think of ways to bring it up without looking like an idiot, but he draws blanks after his head says he won't ever get out of the dreaded friend zone.

"Um..we've been friends for so long. I know everything about you and you about me. I just..after some time I think I might–"

You're cut off by Megumi grabbing your face, his hands were cool to your warm cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed as he took a deep breath.

"I love you [Name]." He was straight to the point which threw you for a loop. Your mouth dropped and then closed quickly. The little shit took the words right from you. Granted you were prolonging the confession but you were getting there!

When you don't answer immediately, Megumi mumbles a quick apology and backs away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, no don't confess and back away!" You pull him back toward you, hugging him once you two collide. His arms wrap instinctively around your figure, even though he was slightly hesitant. He felt like he was treading on glass while you were stupidly over the moon.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." You say shyly, resting your head against his chest. His heart quickly thumped in your ear, much like how yours did the same.

Megumi's world shifted or so he thought. All his fears towards his feelings vanished and it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. You shared the same feelings and of course he should have seen it. Others called you both out, especially the two idiots who hounded earlier. Was he really that blind? Or stupidly oblivious?

Either way, he didn't know what to do now.

"So we felt the same all this time." Megumi says more to himself and you look up at him. When your eyes meet, he takes a moment to admire your pretty orbs. This was his first time being able to actually look at you without having to sneak glances or be called weird for staring. His cheeks warmed once again and you smiled.

"I guess so. Leave it to us to rely on your pesky friends to actually break the silence." You giggle, adjusting so that your arms wrap around Megumi's neck. He bends to match your height, coming face to face.

The air would usually turn awkward but this time, you both silently stare until you look away with a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

"What?" Megumi questioned. He didn't know the first thing about romance. Or even women for that matter. But he knew you, like a book. Except at this moment, he felt clueless. His mind ran in circles, leaving him a happy mess inside his head.

"Oh nothing." You bite the inside of your cheek. His gaze made you squirm and heat shift from your cheeks to your ears as well. Why did it feel so different?? Yet so welcome? "You're just really pretty okay? And I finally get to say it without being looked at funny." You pout, glancing at Megumi who blinks.

"I– So are you." He responds calmly despite every nerve in his body screaming. You turn your head back toward him and act before you can think by pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

Megumi freezes, eyes wide and alert when your soft lips meet his. Though he quickly closes his eyes and keeps you close by cupping your cheek. He didn't think, his body acted on its own and boy did it feel nice. He didn't think he'd ever experience something like this. Something so normal and innocent in his dangerous life.

When you both pull back, neither one of you can look at one another. Instead you pick up your school bag and drape it over your shoulder. Megumi rubs the back of his neck, fully prepared to face some type of scolding. But it never comes when you take his hand.

"Whenever you're not busy being a badass sorcerer, maybe we can go out or something?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his. Megumi looks down at your intertwined hands before glancing at you.

"Yeah." He didn't hesitate to answer and started to pull you toward the direction that led home. You hum delightfully and let him lead you without another word.

Did you imagine your confession would happen the way it did? You couldn't say, but you could admit to the hopeless daydreams of romantic scenarios playing out in the most cliché manner. You were swept off your feet by the marvelous, perfect man, yet none of those silly dreams stood a chance at how perfect everything played out with Megumi.

Even if it took two so called idiots to set it in motion.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro oneshot

318 notes · View notes

purble-turble · 3 years

Note

1 1. Baby Red Boy is back! And he immediately left to burn down the town. I'm very happy that you updated the story, thank you. How is everyone going to do damage control? DBK seems clueless, I imagine in the past he just let red boy tire himself out by destroying everything in his way. The equivalent of kicking your kid outside to play unsupervised for hours.

Yes, more Red Boy!! I really wanted to do some more of the Red Boy story, it had been way too long and it left on kind of a cliffhanger of sorts.. Of COURSE Red Boy is going to burn down the town tho haha! He got distracted by nap time and play time for a bit there, since he is just a lil kid, but it was always going to go bad having a little monster like him on the loose. It's definitely not a good idea to fight him, in the start of the comic he did have MK on the ropes, and even Monkey King wasn't able to beat him without the help of Guanyin, so that's not something that they're going to try again. I won't spoil exactly what happens, but I do plan for other characters to show up, though I won't say which ones yet... although I WILL say I'm not going to include Guanyin in the comic at all. Not really interested in including them since they're an actual Buddhist figure and it'd be kinda weird having them in my silly comic about legos :U

As for having a Bitty MK and Red Boy interact, I think that's super cute! I don't have any current plans to draw or write something like that, but I really love the idea of the two of them having adventures and just being adorable together. And yeah no worries about it being shippy, they're babies after all, so they'd just get up to silly, cute shipping stuff. Honestly, it should go without saying that that's the case. In fact, they probably only know about romance by stuff they see from their parents anyway... haha them trying to be in a relationship by mimicking their parents is actually kind of a funny idea that could end up so so terribly. Bitty MK tries to do something nice for his "husband" Red Boy by just copying what he sees his Dadsy do for his other dad Tang, so he, like, makes him noodles or some other food or something. Obviously it's bad because he's not allowed to use the oven, so his noodles are just raw dough. And Red Boy's idea of doing something nice comes from how his own parents court each other, so he uh, goes to burn down a village in MK's name I guess..? And we've come full circle. I guess Red Boy's story always ends up in lots of fire no matter what lol

Anyway, thank you for asking after me too. I'm doing pretty good, things have just been slow because the two fingers I need most for drawing have been having skin issues, something that I am prone to, sadly. It's been going away, though certainly taking its time doing so. But I spent the time in between writing out the script for the next several parts of the Macaque Meets Red Son comic, so I'm excited to work on those too! Maybe I'll do one or two more Red Boys and then work more earnestly on that comic. The story is going to be very fun to share, I just put in a lot of action sequences which are hard to draw because I hate my future self haha! That's ok though, because the show has so much reference I can use that it won't be as hard.

Thanks for this ask, it was very nice to receive :D

#ask #blog #Red Boy #spicynoodleshipping #Anonymous

48 notes · View notes

spunkpunx · 3 years

Text

Say You Love Me - Jimmy Darling

Plot: Reader is heartbroken when she hears Jimmy has lost his hands, but when they're replaced he decides to make up for lost time

Word count: 3105

Warnings: Smut, Smoking, Mild violence

The words hit me like a ton of bricks when Dell brought the news. Jimmy's hands were gone. My Jimmy's hands were gone. Taken. That no good piece of shit Richard Spencer and his lies. I couldn't believe Elsa had fallen for his bollocks, but I supposed that was his game. The rest of the freaks stood in shock.

"Oh no, not Jimmy!" Ima cried over dramatically. I felt my blood boil. My skin crawled as she wailed. I felt my ears burn up with my rage. She'd been here not five minutes and here she was, caterwauling over what they had done to him. I couldn't out loud admit what I felt about Jimmy, but I sure as hell could let it be known how I felt about her. I ran at her and swung one hard punch to the side of her head. The force did not knock her over, but the shock certainly did.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I spat out the words repeatedly as I continued to hit her face and chest once she had fallen. I felt my eyes prick as I screamed at her, before Paul and Eve pulled me away. The second the anger cleared I collapsed in tears. Penny came over to me as Eve followed Dell out the tent. She held me tight as I sobbed into her chest. Ima was taken out the tent, bloodied and bruised and sniveling. I lifted my head only to spit in her direction.

"Shh, shh," Penny cooed, stroking my hair.

"What have they done to him?" I whimpered, my voice coming out far more feeble and cracked then I had ever heard it. "How's he going to survive in there without his hands?"

"I don't know," Penny told me, honestly. "I'm sure he'll find a way."

She took me back to my caravan and I poured myself a drink. I pulled an ashtray out the cupboard and lit a cigarette.

"You don't have to watch over me Penny. I'm sure you probably best go check on your man."

"I don't want to leave you like this," she admitted, sat delicately on the edge of my bed. She was still so beautiful, despite the lizard tattoo, and so kind as well. I couldn't bear to be around anyone at the minute though.

"I'll be fine," I told her softly, but when she didn't move I snapped at her. "Piss off! I don't want you here!" I hadn't meant to be so harsh, but she gathered herself up and left. I knocked back my drink in one. It burned my eyes and stung my throat but I hoped for my own sake it would help me sleep.

I went through more alcohol and more cigarettes. My ashtray overflowed. My head was spinning as I reached toward the bottom of the bottle. With my head heavy I fell over into my bed and pulled the covers round myself, only bothering to clumsily remove my shoes before shutting my eyes tight and trying to forget my thoughts. I lay there, my mind playing a reel of horrors of what could have happened to Jimmy. I pictured him beaten in a jail cell, battered to death like Meep was, or sat in despair at his own situation. I knew he couldn't have killed those women, even if he didn't, because he was here in this caravan when it happened. I knotted my fingers into my hair, reeling drunk. I was just as bad as he had been.

I eventually passed out, but kept waking, sweaty and restless after nightmares. At one point my stomach turned and I chugged up my guts off the side of my bed. I rolled back over after that and caught half an hours rest before I woke again. The night went on like that until the sun rose and Eve came in to get me up.

"Oh sweetheart," she muttered upon seeing my sorry state. She delicately picked her way to the bed past the vomit and brought me out of bed to go sit on the seat I had. I blubbered pathetically while she tossed a towel over my mess and brought me a glass of water. I was still slightly drunk, but tried to be as co-operative as possible. Eve sat next to me, pulling me in for a hug while I continued to feel like a maudlin burden on her. She took me over to have breakfast with the others, and I hiccuped my way through some bread and butter, as everyone threw pitiful stares my way. I began to sober up.

"I'm sorry, Eve. I'm sorry I'm so useless."

"Don't be silly, come with me," she directed, taking my hand and leading me away from the show ground. As we walked further away I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"It's awful nice of you to try cheer me up but I'd rather not go anywhere," I told Eve, following her through the undergrowth. We passed the spot where Ethel had ended her life, which brought back more memories of how Jimmy had been after she passed. My eyes welled, but I tried hard to keep it suppressed. I didn't want anyone to think I was being such a pathetic mess over Jimmy Darling. I didn't want to be another of the freaks that he's fucked and now loves him.

"It's Elsa who said you ought to come here," Eve explained. It was probably her plan to distract me from my wallowing, or punish me for what I did to Ima. I expected hard labour ahead of me. We reached a small barn with the doors locked. Eve produced a key, unlocking the chains. "Now listen. Elsa says its your job to look after him," she instructed pulling the door open to let me see inside. It took me a minute to realise there was a bed, a bed and a familiar face.

"Jimmy!" I gasped, rushing to his side. I burst into tears again, this time from pure relief. "Oh baby your hands!"

By his side lay two bloodied stumps wrapped in bandage. His eyes filled with tears when he looked at me.

"Princess I haven't ever seen you cry before," he told me lightheartedly, but his voice cracked and he wept. I placed my hand on his face and he leaned into my touch as I wiped his tear with my thumb. I turned back to give Eve a thank you but she had left. I turned to Jimmy.

"I thought you were gonna be gone forever," I told him, sniffling.

"Me too baby." I bent down and pressed my lips down against his. We shared a salty kiss. I felt him flinch hard and cut off the kiss when he lifted his arm hold me. He immediately broke down in tears again. "I'm never going to be able to hold you again," he whimpered, and I sensed that there was certainly more to it than that. It stung to see him in such a sorry state.

"Oh Jimmy don't upset yourself," I tried to comfort him. "I have to change your bandages. Okay?" He shook his head. "I let you do it for me," I reminded him.

"Well you have no fucking idea how much it hurts," he snapped. I understood his frustration, but I couldn't help but pull away, hurt. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry (y/n), I just... I just don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Hold, still." I ran my hand down his arm slowly until I reached the bandage trying to cause minimum pain. I unwrapped it slowly, Jimmy putting on a brave face. As I pulled the bloodied part away from his wound he flinched and gritted his teeth. "This is really gonna sting," I warned as I poured alcohol onto cotton to clean his injury. He bit down on his pillow and nodded for me to go ahead. I wiped it as gently as I could and tried to ignore his muffled howl. "I'm sorry." He let the pillow from his teeth.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, doll," he assured, breathless from pain. I took his stump in my hands, wrapping it in bandage.

"I tried to tell the police it wasn't you, but they wouldn't listen."

"It might have been me, I was there, I was blind drunk."

"It wasn't, Jimmy. You were in my caravan. You said you loved me."

"I do." He looked at me sincerely. I avoided his eye, focusing my attention back to binding up his arm.

"You don't Jimmy, you love Maggie, you only wanted me because you were scared she might leave you and you thought I wouldn't." I sighed.

"That's not true, I kept coming back because I love you." Tears pricked my eyes again. He probably thought Maggie had left and was settling for me. I tied off the bandage and he raised his arm up to my face, sucking in his breath sharply as his stump brushed my cheek. "And you love me too."

"No, I don't," I lied. He watched me, his stare breaking me apart like it always had.

"Paul came by before you. I haven't seen you cry once before, (y/n), but he said you have been tearful all morning. He also told me about Ima," he teased, smugly. I didn't know it was possible to sound both so weak and so smug at the same time.

"I was worried, it doesn't mean-"

"Please just tell me it does. Just tell me you love me, it's all I ever wanted to hear." I let out a breath I never realised I was holding.

"I love you, Jimmy Darling." He smiled at me. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before taking a few draws. I put it between his lips for him so he could take a puff.

"Look at me," he complained. "Can't even hold my own cigarette."

"Hush now Jimmy. Things will take time," I reassured him, to little effect. We shared the rest of the cigarette and I moved round to change the bandage on the other side. Jimmy didn't speak until I'd finished and stood up to leave.

"Thank you, (y/n)," he said sincerely. I went back to his bedside, leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'll be here to change your bandages again tomorrow," I told him softly.

Although Elsa had not left, she had still sold the show to Chester, who although had a definite screw loose, seemed harmless enough. He was bright, chirpy and certainly not bossy. His odd qualities only came from the wooden ventriloquist doll he was so attached to. The twins seemed quite smitten with him, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were screwing him.

I was civil with Maggie after her trickery, especially knowing how difficult the world could be, but Jimmy had far from forgiven her. This was a hard situation to negotiate. She had asked about him, and I knew she cared, but Jimmy was set in his hatred of her. It was hard to sympathise with a woman who had been part in a scheme resulting in the death of Ma Petite and the loss of Jimmy's hands. For the most part I told the truth. Jimmy was not going to soften any time soon.

I apologised to Ima too, hard as it was. She didn't really take my apology, but it hardly bothered me. It was mainly for the sake of the others, and to keep the peace.

That night, Dell was shot. He, it turned out, had been the one to kill Ma Petite. I felt bad for his death. As shitty as his actions were, I always felt he was trying his hardest for a better life. Still, killing another freak was unforgivable, and Ma Petite was innocence itself. It was my job to deliver the news to Jimmy, which was horrible.

"He was my father!"

"I know Jimmy! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you dare start apologising for those murderers, (y/n)!"

"Jimmy he killed Ma Petite!" I ended up snapping. "He killed an innocent and he paid the price." Jimmy broke down into tears again, and I ended up wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm losing everything."

"Come on, baby. It hurts to see you cry so much," I mumbled into his neck. He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Don't ever leave me (y/n). Don't ever break my heart.”

The day Jimmy's hands were ready was the happiest I had seen him in months. I came into the barn again to see him, when I spotted him sat on the bed. The moment he saw me he stood up and rushed toward me. I opened my arms to him and he caught me in his grasp, lifting me off my toes. He kissed me, properly. His dark eyes seemed full of hope. I took his arms from around me and held one of his new hands in mine. Mr. Dolcefino had created perfect wooden hands, still with Jimmy's finger shapes. They were works of art.

"They're beautiful, baby," I told him, smiling.

"They ain't half as functional as they were, but my hands have never looked so good."

"Your hands always looked good." I kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled me flush against him.

"It kills me I can't touch you the same baby," he told me, running his wrists down my side in place of his hands.

"I don't care, Jimmy. I love you," I said, and it was the first time I'd said it since he asked me to. He pulled me in again for another kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pushing the backs of my knees against the bed. "Easy tiger," I teased.

"I haven't held you in so long (y/n)," he replied, pushing himself even closer to me, my body flush with his own. I felt him, hard against my thigh. I kissed him again, hard, and let him push me onto the bed, his own weight on top of mine. He began to nip at my neck, and I sighed contentedly. He went to cup my breast with his hand, but came short when he realised his hands could not move the same, could not feel. "Baby, I'm sorry," he apologised, sitting up on his knees and pulling away. I sat up with him and put my hands around his neck, fiddling with the hair at its nape.

"You aren't giving up that easy are you?" I jibed. "After all, you have a mouth in perfect working order." He grinned at me, pulling me into another hungry kiss. He nibbled down my neck again.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to undress yourself, doll." I did as instructed, pulling my jumper over my head while Jimmy watched. He returned to kissing my collarbone as I undid my bra. His kisses travelled over my breasts, wooden hand against my side. He kissed along my chest, eventually moving to take one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as I sighed. He bit down on it and I yelped, scolding him lightly by giving him a little slap on the arm. He grinned again at my reaction, before kissing his way down my sternum. He stopped for a second, giving me an opportunity to pull my trousers off for him. I went to pull my underwear down but he stopped me, instead using his teeth to pull them down and bringing them the rest of the way with his prosthetic. I laughed at his actions, until he buried his face into my heat, licking over my clit again and again. I felt myself get quickly wetter as he flicked his tongue up my slit. His attention went back to my clit, circling it as I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling at it and moaning as I did. I felt my cheeks flush when he came back up the bed to kiss me again, my taste still on his lips. "I'm feeling a little uncomfortable in these pants, do you think you can help doll?" he asked. I happily obliged.

"Of course baby." I pulled his shirt of his shoulders slowly, the removed his vest, taking my time to run my hands all across his chest and take it all in again. I ran my hand over his stomach and reached to palm him through his trousers. He groaned and closed his eyes. Then I took off the trousers, getting him to sit up in order to help me. I could see the shame in his eyes so as soon as they were off I kissed him hard and put my hands into his pants, stroking his cock. He let out the most delicious moan into the kiss. After a minute of this we were both desperate for it so I bit his earlobe and pulled his cock out of his pants, guiding it to the right place. He pushed into me slowly.

"Fuck," he swore, before capturing my mouth with his and thrusting again. I let out another moan into his mouth as he bit down hard on my lip. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, speeding up his thrusts with considerable lack of control. It had been a while since we had sex, so the desperation in his movements was very apparent. He let out the most beautiful gasps and moans, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair as he continued to nip and suck at my collarbone. I tugged at his brown curls and he groaned breathily. He recaptured my lips in his own and I let out a moan as he pushed deeper into me.

"Jimmy," I panted into his ear, before pulling on his earlobe with my teeth. He let out what was almost a growl and fucked me even harder. I felt myself drawing closer to finishing and let out a desperate string of swears.

“Come on, baby doll, fuckin finish for me,” Jimmy murmured deeply, kissing along my jaw and neck before biting down on my collarbone. I let out a gasp as I felt a wave of pleasure over me, clenching around him and digging my nails into his back. He kept going, his thrusts sloppy, coaxing me through my orgasm until a faltering moan fell from his lips and he pulled out, spilling his load onto my stomach. He lay on top of me, spent, and I pulled my fingers through his hair, running my nails against his scalp.

“You really love me?” I asked, as his hot breath brushed my neck. Before he answered he pressed soft kisses against my shoulder.

“Of course I do, doll face.”

#jimmy darling #jimmy darling smut #jimmy darling x reader #ahs smut #ahs freakshow #ahs x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #american horror story

319 notes · View notes

hufflepuffhollander · 4 years

Text

off limits: tom holland one-shot

a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written

summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.

cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.

For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.

Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.

As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.

When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.

It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.

It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after.

“You know you secretly love me, babe.”

You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.

“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.

“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”

“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”

He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.

Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.

“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”

“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”

You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.

A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.

You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.

He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”

He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face.

“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”

He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled.

Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”

He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”

You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.

“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”

You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?”

Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.

He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”

You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.

“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.

“Yeah? Well so are you!”

You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway.

“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.

“You really want to watch your own movie?”

“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.

“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.

He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.

“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.

You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.

Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged.

He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”

“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.

“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”

You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.

“Nope.”

He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.

“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.

“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.

Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time.

“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.

“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model.

“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.

He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway.

Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”

Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.

You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.

He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.

“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tom, can you leave please-”

“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.

“...I like your shorts.”

“TOM!”

He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?

That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.

“You busy?”

“Clearly.”

“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.

“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”

“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.

You felt jittery. “And?”

He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”

Honestly, you did.

You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.

All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.

You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in.

Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?

“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.

Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”

“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.

“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Says who?”

That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives.

Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.

“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.

“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.

“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.

“I don’t know...”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”

He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”

He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.

For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”

He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”

“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”

“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.

“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.

Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.

hey, are you awake?

T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?

obviously, i just texted you.

T: shut it.

A minute passed...

T: got room for one more over there?

You smiled like an idiot at your phone.

maybe.

Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.

“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”

“Old habits die hard.”

You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.

“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Just happy.”

You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.

“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”

You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.

“Harrison?!”

He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.

Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.

Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.

“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.

“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.

Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”

Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.

“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??

“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.”

You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you.

“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.

All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.

“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, big bro.”

“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.

You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.

“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”

Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.

“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.

You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.

“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.

“Nope.”

#chloe1kwritingchallenge #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #best friend's brother #enemies to lovers #osterfield!reader

829 notes · View notes

ambertea · 3 years

Text

fatherhood

Tentoo prepares himself for the birth of his child by trying to become the perfect dad.

It was strange, being a human.

It wasn't just that he had to watch his sugar intake now, or that his hair was receding at a worrying pace. It wasn't even the extraordinary amounts of drinking and eating he had to do, the peculiarity of human existence that forced him to constantly shovel things in his mouth.

(Read on AO3)

It was a culture shock, more than anything else. He had lived among humans for years, shared hundreds of years of his life living with their habits. But it was different, somehow. It was as though he was living abroad, rather than simply taking a holiday, and he often found himself struggling to untangle their bizarre social norms.

“Are you listening to me?”

He looked up, his eyes darting around the room. He had been engrossed in the newspaper, ticking off inaccuracies or improbabilities, and drawing tiny TARDISes in each white square of the crossword puzzle.

“Yes.”

Rose looked doubtful. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“So, what do you think?”

He hurriedly scanned the room, looking for something to have an opinion on. The walls were the same colour. The curtains, too. Even the windows looked just the same as yesterday.

“Good.” He nodded forcefully. “Good. Very good.”

“Great.” She grinned, and he relaxed.

She threw herself on the sofa next to him and stroked his shoulder.

“So, when should we start trying?”

He kissed her forehead, trying to gain some precious thinking seconds.

“Uh. Tomorrow?”

She held her head in his lap, gazing up at him with some strange human emotion.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

Oh.

He wanted to have a child. He really did. He loved kids, enjoyed their brutal honesty and vivid imaginations. He had had children before, of course he had, and although he didn't spend an awful lot of time thinking about it, he still thought of himself as a Dad.

The responsibility of being the father of Rose’s child, though, was something else.

Everything about her was perfect. She had a beautiful face and an equally magnificent soul. Hell, she had literally been a Goddess at one point. What if his silly genes were more dominant than hers, and rather than the wonderful baby that she deserved, she ended up with a child just like him?

The only solution, really, was to just become the perfect dad. So far, Netflix had told him it included a lot of DIY, and sometimes crossing his arms. He could do that. His last body had been a wonderful mechanic, and he was sure he’d folded his arms at some point in 900 years.

The drill looked a bit scary. He would have felt better using his sonic screwdriver, but it wouldn’t have looked nearly as cool. Rose was watching him, looking concerned.

“Do you have to hold it in your mouth?”

He tried to talk, and spat the drill out, exasperated.

“Yes! I need to be holding your hand too. The baby needs to feel how good of a dad I am.”

She squeezed his arm and leant into his body.

“I’m sure they’ll know either way.”

He doubted it. Probably, they would be watching perfect Simon next door, with his massive toolbox and fancy shed, wishing that their dad could be equally handy.

“What are you drilling, then?” She asked, and he looked around the garden in panic.

He hadn't thought about that bit yet. He'd been flabbergasted by the sheer amount of attachments, and then annoyed over the stupid power chord that needed at least 3 extension leads to go anywhere useful. He'd had a vague image of himself drilling a bit of wood, and Rose clapping at his brilliance. But there wasn't any wood out here, the garden empty but for a few gnomes.

One looked up at him judgmentally, and he made a mental note to kick it when Rose wasn’t around.

“Uh – I thought I would practise, for now.”

“What, like just…turn it on?”

“Yep,” he said frantically. “A test run. See how, um, spinny it is.”

Rose dropped his hand, and he turned to her, offended. She was clutching her stomach, her eyes lit with – was that fear? Happiness?

“Rose? Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly, a small, gentle smile growing. Retaking his hand, she pressed it against her stomach, and he felt his single heart jump when he felt it.

“They’re kicking,” he whispered, dropping to his knees and pressing his ear against her stomach. The baby kicked him straight in the head, and he stared in wonder.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Okay, so maybe the drilling thing had failed. It was no wonder, really, he was a highly intelligent part-time lord, who couldn’t be wasting his time standing around all day just pointing hand tools at walls. His baby was unlikely to be properly impressed with that, anyway, being of superior intellect themselves.

Perhaps he needed to talk to an expert. An actual parent, one that had managed to raise an impressive child.

He thought about Jackie for a second and instantly squashed the thought.

Pete wasn’t laughing at him, exactly, but he certainly had a strange little glint in his eye that the Doctor didn’t appreciate.

“You want me to teach you how to…parent?”

The Doctor groaned. This had been a stupid idea. He turned to go, but Pete quickly grabbed his shoulder.

“Sorry. I was a mess when Jacks was pregnant, so I guess this is no different.”

“It is different!” The Doctor said, offended. “It’s Rose.”

“So just be there for her. Help her with things. I’m sure the baby would…respect that.”

The Doctor stared, wide-eyed. Pete was right. The baby was going to love Rose, just like everyone else who met her, and if he could be seen helping her…

“Thanks, Pete, bye.” He yelled, legging it out of the room.

“What are you doing?”

He frowned, offended, and the wooden spoon rolled off his tongue and onto the floor. Rose eyed it, eyebrow raised.

“How are you doing today, my darling?”

“When did you start calling me that?”

“I can call you something else!” He offered desperately. “Sweetie? Sugar? Love? Babe?”

“Do not call me babe.”

“Honeybunny?”

She was looking at him as if she was slightly concerned for his health.

“I’m making dinner.” He said quickly, gesturing to the wok. She walked over, suddenly interested, and peered down with a look that he couldn't decipher.

“Malteasers?” She asked faintly. He nodded.

“And bananas. And tea, too, for the sauce. All your favourites!”

She kept her face down, shoulders shaking. Probably, he thought, stunned in the face of his great generosity.

“Thank you, Doctor.” She finally choked out between gasps, patting him fondly on the shoulder. He puffed out his chest and went to go sort out the crockery.

“I think we should start buying things.” Rose said one day. Her legs were draped over his lap, his hands massaging her feet.

He looked at her in shock. He hadn’t even thought about all the things the baby would need, being more focused on Rose and her ever-changing moods. They were going to need so much stuff, and it was all going to have to be perfect, as well, lest the baby grew unhappy with its drab surroundings.

He knocked her feet off his lap and set off into a run.

“Why,” Rose asked, her hands on her hips, her stomach peeking out under her bottom, “do we need five cribs?”

“The baby needs options!” He insisted, gesturing at the cradles circling the room. They were all in different shades of white, with tiny little mobiles hovering over them. He had made the mobiles himself, fashioning tiny little Earth, Gallifrey and TARDIS charms to hang over the crib.

He frowned, wondering if he’d done something wrong. Maybe he should have gotten some different colours—he knew humans' fixation on pinks and blues for their offspring. Perhaps he should have picked up a few more.

“You don't think the baby will like them?” He asked, feeling a bit crushed.

Rose smiled, and hugged him, her round bump pushing into his belly.

“They’ll love them.”

Rose was in labour, and he was having a heart attack.

He didn’t like only having one heart on a good day. As a Time Lord, he’d loved Rose, but he’d also loved space, and the TARDIS, and pretty much any fascinating person he met. Now having only one, it felt like his whole body was focused on just her – everything else seemed so less important, less crucial for his day-to-day survival.

What if one heart wasn't enough? What if he couldn’t love their baby properly? What if the child grew to be unloved and unloving, unable to feel the wonderfully wide spectrum of human emotion, all because he had one, stupid heart and it was already used up.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Doctor,” Rose moaned, and he hurried over to clutch at her hand.

Rose was holding her baby.

No—his baby. No, theirs.

She looked up at him, her face pink and drenched in sweat, a soft, beautiful smile stretched across her face.

“Do you want to hold her?” She whispered, rocking the pile of blankets gently, and he nodded, dumbstruck.

Carefully, the baby--his baby!-- was settled into his arms, and he gazed at her, tears trickling down his face.

“Hello,” he whispered.

She opened her eyes and blinked up at him. Her tiny, pudgy little arm stretched out to him, reaching out towards his face, and his singular heart stretched and grew.

"She's perfect." He told Rose, who nodded, looking at him with yet another expression he couldn't untangle.

He looked back down at his daughter and ran his finger over her cheek, marvelling over how soft, how precious she was.

"I'm going to look after you," he choked out. "I'm going to be the best dad on Earth. You'll see."

The baby looked up at him, eyes filled with trust, and he thought that maybe, if he tried really, really, hard, he might just be able to do it.

#my family are in town and i have 0 time so please forgive any editing errors!#tentoo is a baby who must be protected at all costs #fics

21 notes · View notes

thebakingqueen5 · 3 years

Text

KW 2021: Height Difference

Day 1 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Height Difference!

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 1: Height Difference. It’s his 14th birthday and Aang is feeling frustrated. Katara wants to help and Aang confides in her about some of his insecurities.

Word Count: 2.2K

After a long day of festivities, night had finally fallen across the Fire Nation palace, and Aang and Katara were ready to head to bed and get some well-earned rest.

The couple had just finished up at the banquet and silently walked through the dimly lit halls to Aang’s room so as to not alert Katara’s overprotective brother. Though they had merely been cuddling the last few nights before sleeping, Sokka would surely throw a fit if he knew that they were sharing a room at all, hence a bit of secrecy was needed.

At last, they arrived- the third door on the right in the central wing of the palace had been designated the Avatar’s quarters since as early as Kyoshi’s time. It was a fair distance away from the rest of the bedrooms in the west wing, and it also had far more extravagant commodities with its own mini-courtyard and balcony, giving the pair plenty of space to get away from the rest of the world and simply enjoy being with each other.

“Today was fun,” Katara sighed as they finally entered the room, taking off her shoes at the entrance and immediately going towards the inviting bed.

She let herself fall onto the soft mattress, groaning softly as her limbs were finally able to relax after a long day of dancing, cooking, and celebrating for the airbender’s 14th birthday, while Aang gently closed the door with a soft thump.

“Yeah,” Aang chuckled as he joined her on the bed. He pulled some of the thin cotton sheets over them and then curled up next to her on his side.“It sure was... something.”

The waterbender shifted slightly to allow her boyfriend to rest his head in the crook of her neck and absentmindedly traced the outline of the blue arrow on his head while he closed his eyes in contentment.

“Something?” she questioned. Katara furrowed her eyebrows, her movements faltering. “Did you not have fun, Aang?”

The airbender winced when he heard the twinge of hurt in Katara’s voice. She hadn’t been trying to make it sound that way, but she had been planning the event for weeks and naturally was a little offended by the implication of his words.

“Oh. No, sweetie, I didn’t mean it that way. The party was amazing! The food, the drinks, the music, everything was spectacular. You did an amazing job, and it means a lot to me that you care so much.”

Katara let out a quiet breath of relief, resuming her gentle touches to his tattoos.

“Of course I care, sweetie. You’re my boyfriend, and I love you. That’s why if you didn’t like it, I won’t be mad, really.”

Aang tilted his head up and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “That wasn’t it, I promise. I just… I had a bit on my mind today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him tenderly.

He sighed and buried his face in her neck. “I guess... it would be nice to get it off my chest. It’s not like anyone else would get it anyways.”

The waterbender gave him a curious look, silently encouraging him to continue.

“It’s so stupid, but I heard some nobles talking when I stepped away to get us some water. They just kept going on and on about how much of a child I was and how I’m too young and too scrawny and too short for you, and, well, they’re right!”

He turned his body away from her now frowning face and pulled the blankets snug around his body like a protective cocoon.

“You’re almost 16, Tara,” Aang murmured. “A young woman in every sense of the word. Spirits, you’re of marrying age in a month! Me? I’m just a loser kid you found washed up in an iceberg. How could I ever be deserving of you?”

“Oh, Aang…”

She shifted onto her side as well and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back and listening to the rhythm of his breathing.

“Those nobles are utterly ridiculous. First of all, it’s only two years! What difference does two years make in the long run? It doesn’t, that’s what. My parents were four years apart and were the happiest two people in the world! A gap of two years is insignificant,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Second of all, sure we’re young, but considering that we saved the world even younger, I think it’s safe to say we’ve matured beyond our years. We’re certainly old enough to know we love each other, and that’s all that matters.”

“Doesn’t change the other part though,” Aang muttered in response. “Spirits, I’m 14 and barely the same height as you. A little shorter if we’re being honest. It’s so annoying! Why can’t I just grow up already?”

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean for this to come off the wrong way, but why do you care about that? What difference does it make?”

The airbender remained silent for a few moments and pondered her question, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The monks had always taught me to judge people based on the content of their character, not their exterior, and to draw satisfaction from being self-assured, rather than care about what other people thought. And in most cases I feel like I do that pretty well, but…”

“But?”

A subtle pink tinted Aang’s cheeks and he took her hands in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

“You’re different, Katara. You’re the one I love more than anything, the one I would do anything for, the one whose opinions, thoughts, and feelings mean the world to me. You’re the most amazing person on the planet, and you deserve someone worthy of you. Look at Haru and Jet! They were both older and taller and so even something as small as noticing the height difference when we’re dancing kinda hurts. It just feels like I’m the odd one out. I know that’s silly but-”

The waterbender cut him off and shook her head.

“It’s not silly, Aang. Believe me, I’ve felt the same way more times than I’d care to admit. But, in the end, none of that matters. I love you. I chose you . You’re not just my boyfriend, you’re my best friend."

He turned back around to face her and swept her up in an embrace, mind immediately put at ease by her words.

“Plus,” she continued, “So what if you’re a little shorter than me now? You’ll grow in no time. Quite frankly, I’ll miss being taller than you when you do.”

The airbender quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll miss it?”

Katara chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, right at the tip of his arrow.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I will. Being able to do that, not having to look up or go on my toes trying to kiss you, I won’t be able to do all that forever. Things like kisses, hugs, they’re a lot more… accessible with our current heights.”

“Hmm,” Aang hummed. “I guess I never really thought of it like that. I still want to grow taller of course, but when you put it like that, I might miss this a little bit too.”

“Let’s not get too carried away with the future, okay?” Katara laughed. “We have our whole lives ahead of us, let’s just stay in the present- the present where I love you, and you love me, and nothing else matters.”

The airbender grinned with her, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

“I like the sound of that. Thank you, sweetie. For listening, for the reassurance, just everything. It means a lot.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’m always here.”

Katara pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck as Aang returned it, pulling her closer to him. They broke apart after a few seconds and grinned like idiots at one another. There was silence, but it was comfortable. The two didn’t need words, they were just enjoying being with each other.

“It’s getting late,” the waterbender murmured after some time. “We should probably go to bed.”

“Probably,” Aang whispered back, unable to take his eyes off the angel in front of him. With a flick of his wrist, he put out the candles that had been lighting up the room and settled into his pillow as Katara drew closer to him and interlocked their fingers.

“Good night, Aang. Love you,” she said, beginning to drift off to the dream realm.

“Love you too, Tara,” the airbender yawned. “Sweet dreams.”

One year later…

“Happy birthday!” the room chorused as Aang blew out all his 15 candles.

The airbender grinned and began to cut the apple cake- an ancient recipe of the Air Nomads recreated by some of the top chefs in the Fire Nation as a gift from Zuko.

“Thanks guys!” Aang laughed. “Man, it’s crazy to think that the war has been over for a little more than two years now.”

Katara smiled and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“We’ve all done a lot of growing up. We’re older, more mature-” she gave Aang a quick look from head to toe. “ Taller .”

He chuckled, pulling her close to him and peppering kisses all over the top of her head. She was right, of course- as if triggered by their conversation that night, Aang had grown rapidly over the next year. A month later he was the same height as her, two months following he was comfortably able to rest his arm on her shoulder, and now, a year later, he towered above her with her eyebrows barely at his chin.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “Give it a rest you two. The oogies are out of control! Spirits, you act like a newly wedded couple still in the honeymoon stage half the time.”

“Oh, leave them alone, Sokka,” Suki chided. “It’s his birthday! Let’s give the lovebirds some alone time. They’re just kids, they’re nowhere near that yet.”

“Yeah, haha, absolutely not,” Aang nervously laughed as the other couple exited the room. The stone pendant in his pocket began to feel like poisonous lead weighing down his vision for the hopefully not-so-distant future.

“You never know,” the airbender heard Katara mumble, so quiet he wasn’t even sure she had actually said it. “Sometimes things will come when you least expect it.”

He stood there blankly for a moment, brain struggling to process her words and had just opened his mouth to ask her what she meant (she couldn’t possibly be talking about what he thought she was… right?) when she decided to speak up instead.

“I can’t believe you were ever nervous about staying short, sweetie,” Katara quipped, her eyebrows raised teasingly.

Aang merely blinked at the subject change, promptly concluding that the last thirty seconds were simply a figment of his imagination, and sheepishly scratched the back of his head in response to her comment.

“I guess it was kinda silly, huh,” he laughed. “Look at us now.”

The waterbender pouted, going up on the balls of her feet and craning her neck to gaze up at him. “You’re too tall for your own good. I miss when you were shorter and I didn’t have to tilt my head every time just to look at you.”

“Oh c’mon, it has its benefits.”

He gave her a quick look to warn her for what he was about to do, and with one swift motion, Katara was suddenly off the ground and in Aang’s arms bridal-style, her arms around his neck and their gazes interlocked.

The airbender touched their foreheads together and gave her a cheesy grin.

“I couldn’t do this before, now could I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

“No,” Katara smiled, her head tilted as she looked at him endearingly, “I suppose you couldn’t. And I certainly won’t be one to complain about you holding me more often.”

Aang laughed and carefully set her back down, hearing the growing volume of the room next to them. He quickly grabbed the two full glasses on the table and handed one to the waterbender.

“Here’s to hoping you’re the one who grows by next year so my neck isn’t always sore from looking down at you,” he said as he held his drink up.

Katara gave him a dry stare before rolling her eyes and smiling.

“Cheers.”

The two clinked their glasses and turned to face the door behind which the rest of their friends had already begun to celebrate.

“Shall we?” Aang asked as he held out his arm to her.

“We shall,” Katara responded, accepting it. “Happy birthday, Aang.”

#kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataang #kataangtag #aang x katara

24 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Text

one, two, three.

seonghwa x reader x yeosang

word count: 8k

smut

you had really come to like hanging out with seonghwa’s friends.

at first, he had been apprehensive, his hand rubbing at his neck nervously asking you for the tenth time if you were sure you wanted to meet them.

"seonghwa, of course i do," you whined to your boyfriend, pressing up on your toes to peck his cheek. "why wouldn't i?”

and you suppose, after you'd met them, you'd known why.

they were an odd mix of chaotic and sweet, always thoughtful and polite towards you albeit they drove you crazy. almost to the point of wanting to rip your hair out but you had truly grown to love each and every one of them.

hongjoong was the one who always saved you when the younger ones got out of hand, smacking them on the heads lightly and pushing them away while he shot you a reassuring smile.

yunho was the one who was always able to lift your spirits, noticing right away when you weren't feeling your best; it's like from the moment he met you, he was in tune with your emotions.

san and mingi were the ones you'd, admittedly, create destruction with.

it took one time of peaking your head in their shared room and seeing them beat the shit out of each other to immediately join in, laughing and screaming with them until you were red in the face.

wooyoung was another one of your defenders, though much more vocally than hongjoong; if anyone even looked at you funny, he was on their ass in a minute.

screaming about how they better not mess with you or they'll have have to face the consequences.

jongho was the one boy you thought didn't like you at first. he was slightly cold in his demeanor, smiling politely and bowing his head at you but never trying to initiate conversation.

it wasn't until he had gotten tipsy one night (off a singular wine cooler) that he became a little puppy towards you, going on and on about how nice and pretty you were and that you and seonghwa were the perfect match.

and last but certainly not least was yeosang - not something you ever thought you'd admit, the boy had caught your eye immediately.

there was something about him, his face and his voice and even his hands, just everything about him drawing you in the same way seonghwa did when you first saw him.

and, quite honestly, because of that, you should've expected the events that were to come.

you never understood the concept of having more than one partner, thinking that finding a balance was probably difficult and surely that you'd have to favor one a little bit more.

but the coming months proved that, sometimes, there was more than one person meant for you.

friday, june 19th

the rain was pouring down after your summer class, thunder and lightning crackling through the dark sky and causing you to grow more and more nervous.

seonghwa was usually waiting outside your building every monday and friday night, hating when you took the bus and insisting that you never do.

but a work obligation had him two hours away in a different city, the way he kissed your head and mumbled his apologies over and over making your heart really hurt right now.

you always needed him in this type of weather.

it felt silly and juvenile and even a little embarrassing, to be a full grown woman and terrified of storms; but what wasn't there to be scared about? loud booming noises and weather that had the potential to completely destroy the things in its path.

right now, that thing was you.

the prospect of walking to the bus stop on the other side of campus, getting drenched and whipped with wind one of your worst nightmares. just as you were about to accept your fate, you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

your eyebrows furrow when you see yeosang's name on the screen:

don't even think about taking the bus.

your head snaps up as your eyes survey the parking lot in front of you, mouth dropping open and quirking into a smile when you see his familiar black car. you place your books atop your head as you run to the vehicle, ducking your head in and taking in the scent of his car.

it smells just like him, a mix of men's cologne and something distinctly yeosang.

"thank you," you smiled gratefully at him. "i didn't know you were coming."

"seonghwa asked me to get you," he tells you, making your entire body still when he reaches over you. his arm brushes past you as he hums lowly, grabbing the seatbelt and snapping it in before sitting back in his seat.

"i-i could've done that," you told him nervously.

he always did things like that, even in front of seonghwa.

help you in ways where he just barely touches you, like tying up your shoe laces or placing his hand on your waist when you stretch up to grab things on the top shelf.

he only smirks at you, pulling out of the parking lot and making his way back to the house.

"how was school?"

you go on about the last session of your summer class, expressing how grateful you are for it to be over and telling him all about your scary professor. about how he'd call students out for no reason at all, make them read off their test answers and blankly stare at them if they asked any questions.

"i truthfully don't know what he wanted from us," you complained, hands flailing with a pout on your face before you mumble, "fuckin' bruce."

a snort leaves him as he looks over at you, the smirk on his lips causing a blush to creep on your face.

"what?"

"nothing," he says, "you're funny."

a crack of thunder and lightning fills the sky and he watches you flail in your seat, a tiny, surprised squeal leaving your mouth. his eyebrow raises as obvious fear and terror cross your face, your shaky exhale heard throughout the car.

"you scared of thunder?"

"no," you answer immediately, wanting to close your eyes in embarrassment; you couldn't have made that any more obvious.

and with the way he's looking at you, he knows it too, even though he just nods head and smiles softly at you.

"what do you want for dinner? the boys are expecting us to bring shit home so you know the house is probably in chaos."

thirty minutes later when you arrive with ten boxes of chicken, that's exactly what you walk into.

the boys running to the door with a mix of dramatic groans and excited squeals, being suffocated in hugs like you'd been gone for four years and not just four hours.

"stop," you giggle out quietly, finally prying each and every last one of them off you before setting up the food. yeosang was quick to push you out of the kitchen, guiding you over to the tv and telling you to pick something.

you spend the rest of the night eating and watching a marathon of movies, face timing seonghwa and showing him all of the boys sleeping on top of one another.

"they're like a psychotic litter of puppies," the boy says, smiling at you from miles away in his hotel room bed. you giggle in agreement, your eyes moving to the window when the incessant rain and thunder pounds down on the glass.

"still raining?" he asks softly.

your mouth turns into a small pout, nodding your head as you rest your chin atop your knee. he lets out a sigh, his hand running through his hair as his eyes soften.

"i'm sorry i'm not there with you, baby," he says quietly.

and like you're somehow not used to it, the sweetness of your boyfriend and the way he's always so mindful of you, tears spring to your eyes.

"my love, please don't," he begs once he sees them gloss over, pain and sadness creeping into his voice.

"i'm sorry," you sigh out, "i just...i wish you were here."

it feels like seonghwa's heart shatters, his feet threatening to spring up from his bed to pack up his bag and make the two hour ride back home.

"just try to do what we always do," he suggests softly, the white noise speaker and weighted blanket in his room half of the trick in getting you to sleep during these nights.

"and you can always call me. wake me up, i don't care."

"i'm not gonna wake you-" his stern look causes the words to die in your throat, mumbling an "okay," a few seconds before a pleased, almost cocky smile makes its way on his face.

"good, baby," he says and then his eyes quickly turn into something else you're all too familiar with. another method, probably your favorite one, in getting you fast asleep.

"do something else for me now?"

it's in the way his voice drops, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, that has heat building between your legs. has him telling you to go into his room and get on the bed, the command in his voice already so strong and demanding.

he makes you prop the phone up toward you so he can see the expanse of your face, stomach and hips, his voice lowly telling you to do as he says. it's how you end up taking off your shirt, bra and shorts, leaving you panting on the bed with hard nipples and a soaked thong.

"seonghwa," you whined out already, every time you attempt to stick your hand in your underwear met with his firm "stop."

"over them first, baby. you know the rules."

you cry out the second your finger grazes your lace-covered clit, glossy, lustful eyes shooting to look at him watching you through the screen. you're met with the sight of him laying there shirtless, his cock resting on his stomach as he watches you begin to get yourself off.

"i want you," you whine lowly to him, breathing turning shallow as your finger starts to move faster and more purposeful on your throbbing clit. "fuck, seonghwa."

"you're doing so good," he says, voice strained and deep as you watch him take his cock in his hand. "close your eyes for me."

"but i wanna see-"

"close them."

you let out a whimper as you allow your eyes to roam over him, feeling your stomach tighten at the way his hand is slowly stroking himself up and down. the way that should be your hand and he should be the one-

"y/n."

you close them immediately at the sound of your name falling from his lips, your pouting mouth falling open as you feel yourself grow wetter by the second.

"that's my good girl," he says. "how do you feel, love? are your fingers gonna fuck you well?"

a tiny cry leaves your lips as you shake your head.

"why not, baby? what's wrong?"

"they're not yours," you whine. "i want...you to fuck me."

"i can't baby," he grunts out. "as much as i want my fingers in your pretty little pussy."

you bit your lip hard at his words, the small cry blaring through his speakers causing his cock to throb.

"and then i'd be sure to fuck you like the good girl you are."

your glossy eyes flutter open, full of lust and desire as you ask him if you're allowed to finger yourself; the moment you hear his strangled "yes," you moan out at the feeling.

your mind picturing him beside you, his fingers pounding in and out of you, thumb skillfully on your clit as the groans you hear coming from your phone vibrate in your ear.

"how does that feel now, baby?" he asks, "you look so pretty fucking yourself for me."

you feel your legs start to shake, your own hand traveling up to tweak at your sensitive nipple the same way he does to bring you over the edge.

"i wanna come for you," you say, "please let come for you."

and it's at this moment, you should've realized that the door wasn't locked.

but you're so fucked out by your own fingers and seonghwa's voice and how close you are to your release that you don't hear the door open.

you don't hear a quiet gasp leave the intruder's voice nor do you see how they linger in the doorway for a few silent moments.

"come for me baby. come all over your fingers for me and let me hear you be my good girl."

and then like a good girl, your legs tremble as the tight knot unravels and your loud, whiney moans ring through the air.

you don't even think about how loud you're being, truthfully not even caring as pleasure rips through you and you ride out your high on your own hand. you hear the familiar sound of seonghwa releasing shortly after, his grunts and groans of your name carrying out the rest of your orgasm.

once the ringing in your ears stop, the sounds of you and seonghwa's heavy breathing filling the room, you're finally able to open your eyes.

your vision is spotty at first, swearing you see a figure standing a few feet away in the doorway. your body tenses in fear and embarrassment, rubbing at your eyes with the hand not cupping your thong before looking again.

it must've just been a fluke, you think, something weird clouding your vision, because when you look back up, your door is closed and it's just you and seonghwa.

"how do you feel now, baby?" he asks you breathlessly. you turn on your side to see seonghwa's eyes are still closed.

"good," you tell him quietly, almost shyly; you guys have only done this a handful of times and each and every time, it makes you a little embarrassed.

"you did good for me, love," he says, his release on his stomach that would usually be seeping down your legs by now. "i can't wait to fuck you when i get back."

you laugh into your pillow slightly, cheeks warming at his words as you nod your head sleepily.

"ah, did you tire yourself out?" he asks teasingly, feeling his heart ache that he can't clean you up and hold you as you fall asleep.

he can only watch as you succumb to your exhaustion after a few passing moments, his softly spoken "i love you" and "i'll be home soon" humming you to sleep.

you had hoped it was gonna be enough.

that the power of an orgasm brought on by you and your boyfriend would be enough for you to sleep through the stormy night - but a loud crack of thunder rips you from sleep, your body shooting up and your chest heaving in fear.

you immediately reach your hand out to the side, feeling the cold empty sheets and about ready to cry when you remember seonghwa isn't here tonight.

that you're gonna have to sit through the storm all alone and be a big girl - but that's easier said than done.

after what feels like an hour (but was really only fifteen minutes) you throw on a long t-shirt and pad your way into the kitchen. you fill yourself up a glass of water and down the cold liquid, placing the cup in the sink as you grip the counter.

you noticed all the boys had gone into their respective beds at some point in the night, the dark empty room in the apartment lighting up from the chaos and destruction outside.

you feel tears prick your eyes, feeling so stupid for being scared and upset about this.

"you have to calm down," you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself in a sad attempt at comfort. "it's fine. everything's fine. it's just-"

"y/n?"

the familiar deep voice rips you from your distressing monologue, squinting your eyes in the dark to see yeosang making his way over to you hesitantly. he keeps a good distance between you two, looking your body up and down before his eyes fix on (aha) something behind you.

"are you okay?"

it's like the very question causes you to lose it, a tear rolling down your cheek that you're quick to wipe with your wrist.

"yes. no. i don't know," you stutter out quietly. "you're gonna think it's dumb."

he takes your hand and guides you over to the couch, taking a seat next to you before turning to face you.

"try me," he says quietly, his eyes carefully watching your face.

it's then you tell him you're slightly embarrassing fear of storms.

how ever since you were the little, the sounds of heavy rain and thunder have traumatized and disturbed you. how it keeps you up and sends you into a panic, almost nothing able to help you through a bad stormy night.

"almost nothing?" he asks curiously, his eyebrow raised as his head rests in his hand. "what's the one thing?"

you bite your lip nervously, your tooth digging into the sensitive pink skin almost to the point you draw blood.

"so...someone with me, usually helps. like...sleeping with me," you stutter out.

"i usually have seonghwa but now he's not here. and he said i could call him and wake him up, but i don't know. it's not the same. and i don't wanna bother him."

he listens to your rambling carefully, parts of him feeling very conflicted.

because on one side, he wants more than anything to help you. he hates watching you be scared and thinking that you're gonna spend the rest of the night being haunted by your worst fear.

but on another, he's... not sure if it's right, given what he walked in on earlier that night and is pretending not to know about now. how greatly it affected him and how after his body refused to let it go, he had to get himself off in his bedroom.

"i guess that's kind of sad, right?" you laugh out in embarrassment. "i know, it's weird because i'm a literal adult but-"

"it's not sad," he's quick to clarify, "i was just... i don't wanna make you uncomfortable but..."

he sees your eyebrow raise as you look at him, feeling a lump grow in his throat at your soft, wide-eyed stare.

"we can....sleep out here, if you want," he suggests quietly. "i'll sleep on the couch with you."

he wouldn't feel right taking you into his bed but he also wouldn't wanna sleep with you in seonghwa's bed without the boy's permission; he thinks his best friend wouldn't mind the couch, given that you're terrified and need sleep.

"r-really?" you squeak out with a small smile. "i mean don't feel like you have to..."

"i don't," he insists with a small smile. "i want to."

that's how you end up laid out on the couch, yeosang behind you as you watch a random late night movie.

you feel your eyes start to droop, yeosang's lowly spoke question "is this okay?" as his arm casually wraps around your waist. you can only nod sleepily, knowing that there's already not much space given the tight fit of the couch.

another crack of thunder has you jumping in his hold, pushing yourself back on him as a tiny sigh leaves your mouth.

"it's okay," his deep voice drones lowly in your ear, "you're okay."

you hum lowly as you nestle yourself further into his warm body, shimming your hips back as his hand strokes your arm calmingly.

it's taking everything in him not to crack, his stupid male brain remembering the way you were laid out on your bed.

your moans ringing through the air as you rubbed yourself between your shaky legs. he could only imagine how your face looked, eyes squeezed in pleasure and mouth hanging open as your finger slammed in and out of your tight, wet-

"yeosang?" he hears you mumble lowly.

because unless he's harboring the tv remote in his pants, you're pretty sure his dick is rock hard and resting against your ass.

"hm?" he mumbles lowly in your ear, his brain pounding with lustful thoughts he know he should feel ashamed of.

"are... are you good?"

when he's about to ask what you mean, almost teasingly do you rub against his bulge again.

a shaky breath leaves his mouth as he tightens his hold on your waist, embarrassment flooding through him and he thanks god that you can't see his reddening face.

"shit, y/n," he grunts out. "i'm sorry."

"it's okay," you mumble out, feeling ashamed at just how much you like the feel of him pressed up against you. "it happens."

"does it?" he hums, humor and sarcasm in his tone. "because i don't think seonghwa would appreciate it."

you don't say anything but the voice in your head says otherwise, recalling bits and pieces of conversations with seonghwa about potential threesomes and what not when he noticed you eyeing the boy in question.

"would you ever be into that?" he asked you one night.

you had been so embarrassed and flustered by him calling you out, your eyes roaming yeosang's body and hands and flushing at the thought of them on you.

"what?" you asked innocently.

your boyfriend only raised his eyebrow, taking your face in his hand and shaking his head at you.

"you think i'm fucking stupid, baby girl?"

your eyes widened immediately, thinking he was about to be mad or jealous and yell for the first time in your relationship.

"i see the way you look at him," he told you simply.

"it's not like that, seonghwa," you insist, your hand coming out to run through his soft hair. "i just...think he's handsome."

a smirk crosses the boy's face, nodding his head at you before pecking your nose.

"well if you ever wanna...do something, just tell me."

you look at the boy in shock at first, cheeks flushing and core clenching as you ask what exactly he means by something.

"he's my friend, one of my best friends," the boy tells you. "i wouldn't mind sharing what's mine if you wanted to give him a try."

you nearly passed out right on the spot, eyes widening and mind already clouded with some of the fantasies you pictured on lonely nights.

seonghwa taking you from behind as you swallow yeosang's cock, yeosang watching as seonghwa eats your pussy and the boy pushing him aside to get a taste, hearing both of their moans and groans as they release onto your body.

his hand traveled down to your pants, slipping it inside and chuckling lowly when he feels wetness has started to gather.

"you like the sound of that?" he hummed in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin and causing your breath to become strangled. "you want me to watch my friend make this needy little pussy come?"

"not watch," you whine quietly, spreading your legs further for him as he slowly circles your clit. "bo-both of you."

you can't see the sadistic smile that crosses his face, his finger slipping inside of you and causing to gasp out.

"what you want, you get pretty girl. just let me know when."

"i actually don't think he would mind," you hummed lowly, pressing further into him and moving yourself against him. his quiet groan rips right through your core, spurring on the way you rock back and forth until his hold your waist tightens

"y/n..." he warns lowly.

you turn around to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and blazing down at you like he's trying so hard to keep it together. keep something lustful and brewing at bay.

but now it proves to be nearly impossible, with your eyes looking up at him with a matching expression.

"what are you doing?" he asks you, voice strangled and gruff. "i...i can't-"

"seonghwa said he doesn't mind sharing," you tell him, voice breathy and sweet, "we've talked about it before."

his eyes widen at the confession, unsure if he's more shocked by the fact you wanna do something right now or the fact that you and seonghwa had discussed this before.

something about it still doesn't feel quite right, so immune to the thought of you and seonghwa, that you're seonghwa's and no matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn't have you.

but with the way your breathing has synced, flush against one another's chest and feeling the heat radiating off each other, he feels himself quickly losing it.

feeling himself move closer and closer to you until his lips touch the hot skin of your neck. you whimper at the feeling, arching your neck back so he gets easier access.

it does just the trick, his lips tentatively placing kisses down your hot skin. it causes your stomach to flip, the excitement and fear that comes with having a new man on top of you hitting you all at once.

"i've been wanting to do this for so long," he mumbles into your neck, his hand coming up so his thumb can trace your rapid pulse point. "you're such a pretty little thing and i saw the way you'd look at me."

your cheeks flush in embarrassment at getting caught, knowing you weren't subtle in the slightest but also hoping, by some miracle, he wouldn't catch on.

like in some sort of bold retaliation, you throw your leg over his and grind yourself over his bulge.

"i...couldn't help it," you mumble, your words getting cut off last minute when you feel his his tongue slip out of his mouth. quiet hums leave you as he assaults your neck, licks and light bites and kisses that have you palming him over his pants.

just like seonghwa, you're quick to find out he's bossy - tells you to stop playing and touch his cock before he flips you onto you're back, like that's really some sort of threat.

desperate to see just what he's been hiding, you stick your spit-covered hand down his pants and boxers and bite your lip when you feel his hard, long length.

"oh, god," he mumbles, shutting his eyes at the feel of you stroking him up and down.

it'd be too much in normal circumstances, let alone that just a few hours before, he'd done the same thing to himself after seeing you. that you're right in the living room where anyone could walk out and catch you both.

"you're so good," he grunts out, convinced for most of his life that no one would give him a better hand job than himself.

you seem to prove him wrong, twisting and tugging in all the right ways to have him on the edge of coming after just a few minutes.

and when you politely ask him to do just that for you, your soft quiet voice whispering "come for me," he buries his face in your neck to muffle his moan.

you pull your spit-covered hand out of his pants and smile at him shyly, making your way over to the kitchen on shaky legs.

after washing your hands of him, you make your way back to the couch to see his eyes closed, head resting back on the arm of the couch as his breathing is turned more even.

his eyes pop open when you take your spot in front of him, his arm wrapping around your waist again and pressing against your stomach.

"it's your turn, isn't it?"

"you don't have to," you insist, the throbbing wetness between your legs saying otherwise. you don’t hear him say anything for a few moments, figuring that he's like you in the sense that an orgasm puts him right to sleep.

your eyes are closed for a few minutes, probably would've been able to succumb to sleep if not for the ache in the lower half of your body, when you feel his hand cover you.

you keep your eyes closed but bite your lip, whining lowly and hoping, praying, he's just gonna take control.

"i can't go to sleep knowing you're like this," he says lowly in your ear, rubbing over your shorts and smirking when a low moan leaves your mouth. his hand sneaks in as his finger teases at your slit, breathing sharply when he feels how wet you are.

"jesus christ," he grunts out, sounding genuinely pained. "fuck no."

and with that, his finger slides easily into you and you push yourself back on him again. his finger moves in and out of you steadily, his thumb circling your clit and lowly speaking into your ear.

he tells you how long he's thought about having his fingers in you, how he knew your pussy would be this tight and warm and how if given the chance, he would fuck the life out of you.

"you want that?" he asks lowly before commanding, "tell me."

"yes," you whine out, "yes, yes, yes."

"well, you can't get that," he teases, dropping a kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. "not yet, anyway. so you need to come on my fingers."

just a few seconds later, you do exactly that.

sunday, june 21st

seonghwa gets home early that morning, sneaking in to his room and smiling at the sight of you fast asleep in his bed.

he sheds himself free of clothes and crawls in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck. the movement causes you to stir, moaning sleepily before turning in your boyfriend's hold.

"hwa," you mumble, burying your face in his chest and inhaling the familiar scent of him.

"hi, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i missed you."

"missed you too," you slur tiredly, smiling lazily when you hear his quiet chuckle. your arm is quick to wrap around his waist, pulling yourself closer into him and falling back asleep in the comfort of his arms.

when you both wake a few hours later, the late morning sun streaming through the window, he bends down and pecks your lips.

"how was your weekend, love?"

a flush crosses your face when you think back to the events of friday night, the way you and yeosang fooled around on the couch and he murmured words that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about.

"it was... good," is all you say, knowing your cheeks and eyes are damn well about to give you away.

"but?" he asks lowly.

you let out a quiet huff, shaking your head at how well he knows you.

"i... yeosang stayed with me during the storm." his lips quirk to the side, raising an eyebrow at you as he props himself up on his arm.

"yeah? what happened?" he asks, eyes roaming your face; they don't hold any jealously or anger or insecurity, just a genuine curiosity.

"we... cuddled on the couch," you start off, the boy nodding because, okay yeah, all the boys cuddle with you. that's nothing for you to blush and get shy over.

"but then... i gave him..." it felt weird to confess these things to your own boyfriend, despite the mutual ground you stood on when it came to that.

"tell me, y/n, it's okay," he says softly, his hand moving to your cheek and stroking it softly. "we talked about it, i know."

"i gave him a hand job and he fingered me."

he nods his head, almost like you told him the date and time before a smirk crosses his face.

"yeah?" he hums lowly, "no fucking though, right?"

you immediately shake your head and he smiles proudly, replacing his hand with a pair of lips.

"good," he says after pecking your cheek. "i gotta be there for that."

you bite your lip, nodding your head and feeling excitement rush through you at the thought.

that you get to be with seonghwa without the phone screen in the way, that you'll get to experience yeosang's skilled fingers again and have both of them with you in the most intimate way.

"but for now," he says, pushing you gently onto your back and dipping his head to place kisses over your exposed thighs. "i need to eat this pussy myself.”

wednesday, july 15th

there wasn't a free night for you, seonghwa and yeosang for another three weeks - but once the time finally came, the rest of the boys either at the movies or dinner, seonghwa didn't waste a second.

the three of you were lounging out in the living room all day, your boyfriend and yeosang throwing each other knowing looks like they had discussed the past weekend events without you.

it started when seonghwa mumbled your name ten minutes after san closed the door.

you lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling up at him softly before seeing that familiar look in his eye. it drops ever so slightly, feeling yourself swallow as you remember yeosang had adamantly declined going out with the rest.

"we were thinking," he began, nodding his head toward yeosang like your pussy didn't already sense what was about to come. "you wanna show me what i missed that friday?"

your eyes widen at his words, lips growing dry as you look at both the boys staring at you.

"i-i guess, but i-"

yeosang laughs at your stuttering, seonghwa shooting him a look that immediately has it turning into a fake cough.

"it's okay if you don't," he says softly, "we just thought...it might be fun."

"no, i do," you answer quickly, far too quickly that it causes you to blush. "i just... what do i do? isn't it gonna be kinda weird?"

seonghwa only strokes your cheek, smiling down at you as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"whatever we tell you to do, love. that's normal, isn't it?"

your eyes widen as you timidly nod, looking at yeosang who's been intently watching you and seonghwa.

he watches the way you fall so comfortably into his touch, how your eyes look at him with so much trust and affection while his show a certain sort of protectiveness in them.

a protectiveness that comes out even more when seonghwa looks at his friends.

"take care of her. if at anytime she tenses or hesitates, stop."

"no shit, hwa," the boy says before smirking teasingly.

he taps on his lap where he's sitting on the chair, legs spread slightly as he leans back cockily.

"now come here, beautiful."

seonghwa rolls his eyes at the boy, patting you on the butt encouragingly and watching carefully as you stumble over.

you stand in front of yeosang a tad unsure, feeling more than ready to continue where you left out a few nights ago but also a little nervous.

with an audience is hard enough but when that audience is your boyfriend?

"let’s show seonghwa how good i made you feel," he says lowly to you, the man’s face turning into a sneer; it'd be in his friend’s best interest not to make this a competition.

you smile softly when you hear your boyfriend scoff, turning around to throw him a wink before straddling yeosang.

his cocky demeanor only grows stronger, gripping your hips as he moves you back and forth over him. you're quick to take over, looking at him as your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

"there you go, baby," he encourages before grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you down. "that's how it all started, right? because you couldn't stop grinding your ass all over my cock."

your breath falters at his words, face flushing but increasing your speed slightly.

he stares down at your lips, wanting so badly to take your mouth and allow his tongue to explore it. he looks to seonghwa who's just sitting on the couch, watching your shorts-covered ass grind back and forth skillfully.

"can i kiss her?" yeosang asks gruffly; the man only shrugs, nodding his head toward your figure.

"why are you asking me?"

so when yeosang asks you, eyes deep and dark as they look into yours, you're the first to make the move.

slamming your lips on to his and moaning into his mouth when his hands immediately go to grab your ass. his tongue slips right through, swallowing your moans as he moves his hand up your shorts to squeeze and knead your skin.

"i know she's soaked right now," you hear seonghwa say, breaking the kiss to turn around and see him sitting there in his shirt and boxers.

your lips are red and slightly puffy, yeosang's assault on your mouth making you look extra pretty. seonghwa gives you a reassuring look, quirking his eyebrow as if to say 'should we go on?'

and when you eagerly nod your head, a smirk crosses his face; before he can say anything, yeosang pulls his hands out of your shorts.

"that true, y/n?"

you lick over your lips slowly, looking him up and down before you nod your head.

it causes yeosang to spring up from his seat, grabbing you so your legs are wrapped around his hips as he walks over to throw you down on the chaise of the couch.

you land with a surprised squeal, watching as he shoves his pants down in one go. he bends and slowly drags your shorts and thong off, looking at your underwear in satisfaction.

he balls up the underwear and throws it towards seonghwa, eyes trailing every inch of your body with a lustful expression.

"you were right," the boy hums, trailing his finger in between your thighs. "good girl is all wet and ready for us."

you can't see the way seonghwa is twirling your lace around his finger nor can you see the outline of his cock protruding in his boxers. you can only focus on yeosang trailing his fingers up and down your slit, circling your wet hole and causing you to whine out his name.

"hear that, hwa?" the boy says, humor and amusement in his tone. "sounding like a needy little bitch."

your eyes roll back and whether it be your degradation kink kicking in or the way his fingers brushes over your clit, you don't know. but when you mumble a "please," you hear seonghwa tell yeosang to stop teasing.

"is this better then?" yeosang hums lowly, sliding two fingers in you quickly and placing his tongue on your clit.

it's a move that completely throws you off, something between a moan and scream leaving your mouth. you throw your arms back to hold onto the couch, lifting your hips up and grinding against his face in an attempt to feel more of him.

"answer him, baby," seonghwa demands, his head hung back as he jerks himself slowly.

and so, of course, you do as he says. cry out a mantra of “yes.” as his tongue flicks over you skillfully and his fingers curl up into you.

"oh, my god," you screech, one hand leaving the couch to fall into his hair.

you pull and twist at the strands, digging his face further into you that only seems to encourage him. you feel your legs start to shake, chest heaving up and down as a powerful orgasm is about to flood right through you.

the boy pulls back and wipes his face just before you come, your face twisting into one of absolute frustration and devastation until you see seonghwa's figure looming over you.

"hi, love," he says, bending down before he wraps his hand around your throat. "you like being quite the little whore, don't you?"

you lick your lips as a pout forms on your lips, disappointment flooding through you as your pussy aches from having your orgasm taken away.

"s-seonghwa, please."

"please what?" he asks, tightening his hold ever so slightly as he slams his lips on yours. "please let you be a little whore?"

you look at your boyfriend, wondering if it'd be in your favor to nod and fully accept this role - if being a little whore means you get to come, then you certainly don't mind it.

"because baby girl, if that's the case," he says lowly, taking you by your hips and flipping you over so you're on all fours. "then we'll fuck you like one."

you whimper and whine pathetically, the cool air on your wetness doing absolutely nothing to help the ache. it just makes it worse, looking back at the two men with raging cocks and dark stares and nodding your head desperately.

"please," you say, eyes moving between both of them. "yes. i want to make both of you come."

seonghwa smiles and brushes your hair lovingly, placing a kiss on top of your head before looking at yeosang.

"me first," he says, standing behind you as he lines his cock up with your hole. "let her suck you, she's fucking amazing."

when seonghwa enters you with a snap of his hips, yeosang immediately juts himself into your mouth. you cry out around his cock, balancing yourself on one arm as you lick yeosang up and down. twist your hand on the parts your mouth doesn't reach and eagerly muffle your moans around him.

"always so tight, my love, holyfuck," you hear seonghwa say behind you,

his hands digging into your hips as he pounds into you from behind. you moan out at his words, making sure to look yeosang in the eyes as you circle your tongue around his tip.

"jesus christ," yeosang mumbles, your eye contact and tongue and the way your body is jutting forward from seonghwa fucking into you some of the hottest shit he's ever seen.

you prove him wrong all but five seconds later, taking his cock fully in your mouth as you bob your head up and down with vigor.

"you love this don't you baby," seonghwa grunts out behind you, "having me fuck you while you suck him off."

if you didn't have a mouth full of cock, you'd be your obedient, truthful self and moan out a mantra of yes, yes, yes.

but you're so intent on sucking yeosang, thinking back to all the times you thought about this very moment.

being taken from behind by one while you sucked off the other. hearing their groans and grunts bounce off one another as they use your body for their own pleasure.

you know seonghwa's close by the way his grunts grow louder, hips becoming more sloppy in his movements and him asking you on more time if you like being their whore.

when you push your hips back on him, disconnecting your mouth from yeosang to let your loud moan ring free, you feel him spill his release into you. it makes you feel warm and full, wondering if you're about to feel the same exact thing on your face and really be a mess tonight.

the second seonghwa pulls out of you, slapping your throbbing clit for good measure before he makes his way around to, yeosang pulls himself from your mouth and eagerly makes his way behind you.

"be gentle," seonghwa warns the boy, grabbing his arm and tightening his hold ever so slightly. "she's gonna be sensitive."

yeosang only narrows his eyes at the boy challengingly, bending down and taking your pretty face in his veiny hand.

"do you want that, y/n?" he asks, letting his thumb drag over your bottom lip before sticking his finger in your mouth. "do you want me to be gentle?"

seonghwa rolls his eyes at his friend's approach, shaking his head and resisting the urge to tell him to fuck off purely out of selfish intent.

you also shake your head no, telling him to fuck you as he pleased and yeosang does just that.

he pushes you on your back and puts your legs up on his shoulders, spreading you like a feast and pounded his throbbing cock into you.

the both of them are different in length and girth but seem to fit you so well. you stretch perfectly, filled up so well by them and feeling every ridge and thrust with immense pleasure.

"holyshit this pussy," yeosang grunted, seonghwa smirking in satisfaction because after all, you were still his girlfriend and it sent a strange sense of pride through him.

that's why he rests your head on his lap and fondles your chest, palming your nipples and watching as your face twisted into one of pleasure.

it only took five flicks of yeosang's fingers on your clit for you to completely fall apart, spreading your legs and yelping when one of the most intense orgasms destroys your body.

you’re a shaky, moaning mess, yeosang's hips snapping rapidly into you as seonghwa bends down and silences your mouth with his.

the both of you took some time to catch your breath, yeosang pulling out of you with a curse and placing a kiss to your leg.

you looked up at seonghwa who's hands were in your sweaty hair, roaming over your face to see if they had gotten too much. if their words and the way they lost control inside of you was suddenly taking an effect.

you only grabbed the back of his neck and tugged him down, your lips meeting with fervor as he smiles into the kiss. he slips his tongue in before pulling back, looking down at you lovingly as he fixes another sweaty strand of hair.

"you okay, baby?" he asks, "you did so fucking good for us."

you nod your head with a lazy smile, stretching out your legs tiredly. the both of you turn to yeosang who was still looking dazed and boneless on the couch.

you giggled into seonghwa's arm, feeling his lips press a kiss against your head.

"he's not used to you," he hums lowly.

"well, he better," you say, yeosang snapping open one eye as a smirk crosses his lips.

saturday, october 2nd

the sexual part was easy. falling into the motions of all of your desired roles and positions that you liked.

yeosang was amazing with his fingers, seonghwa was amazing with his tongue and either of them being inside you was guaranteed a good time.

but it was after the sex where you all felt... hesitant.

at first, it had been awkward.

yeosang not knowing what to do when seonghwa did all his normal aftercare, cleaning up between your legs and brushing your hair and asking a million times if you were okay or needed anything; it had surprised him, honestly, the level of care he put into you afterward.

but it also surprised him that he found himself waning to do that.

he wanted to stay after, have you in his arms or on his chest with seonghwa on the other side of you. he wanted to see you outside the bedroom, go on dates with you and chastely kiss you and act like a boyfriend the way seonghwa did.

it wasn't until you initiated the first conversation that really set everything in motion.

it started after nearly two hours of swapping positions, riding yeosang as seonghwa jerked himself off before he couldn't take it anymore and sat you on his face.

they had gotten better at sharing, dirty looks and snide comments still made that were more often than not teasing.

after this particular time, however, you were exhausted. you were just so exhausted and wanted both of them by your side tonight.

"can you stay," you softly asked yeosang. "i... want you both tonight."

the two boys looked at one another before shrugging because the rule had quickly become what y/n wants, y/n gets.

you spent the night in between the both of them, your hand intertwined with seonghwa's while your head rested on yeosang's chest.

when the two boys woke before you the next morning, they had looked at each other before looking down at you and knew it felt right.

not particularly between them, though they didn't mind it, but just the dynamic as a whole. both of them loving you and caring for you and only wanting what's best for you - and if that was both of them, then that's what it was.

because the further you got into your relationship, the more you saw just how much you needed both of them.

you needed seonghwa for certain things and you needed yeosang for certain things.

on nights you were feeling particularly vulnerable, you still wanted seonghwa. if a storm was hitting or you were coming down with a cold, you liked the familiar warmness of seonghwa.

but on an intellectual level, talking out your feelings and getting stuff out in the open, you and yeosang clicked.

you had the same personality, liked the same things, would sometimes even finish the others sentences and be able to know exactly what the other person was thinking.

you also found that innocent little ways of affection, you liked with yeosang. liked the way your hands fit together and the way his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

the other boys had noticed the change almost immediately, raising their brows at the way yeosang would cuddle you from behind on the couch while seonghwa just sat off to the side unbothered.

they weren't deaf either, hearing the boys muffled moans mixed in with yours - so naturally, it had been san to discuss the elephant in the room.

"so like... are you three all a thing now? and if so, how do i get in on this?"

you, yeosang and seonghwa let out loud laughs, the latter boy flicking his forehead and smiling when san let out a loud cry.

"ow! what was that for!"

"for being a perv," he sneered, pushing the boy off the couch so he can sit next to you and yeosang. you moved so your head rested on his lap, your feet on yeosang at he trailed his hand slowly up and down his leg.

eventually, everyone had gotten used to the new normal. had gotten used to seonghwa and yeosang caring for you in the same way, watching their eyes look at you with a matching twinge of love and lust in their eyes.

you and yeosang are now in his bed, giggling and teasing each other over a stupid tv show when you see seonghwa come in with a smile. he smirks when he sees yeosang's hands holding you hostage, your wrists above your head as your red in the face from laughing.

"don't fuck with our girl too much," seonghwa said with a smile, bending down to peck your cheek before snaking his way in bed.

you spent the rest of the night laughing with them, writhing under their hold as they tickle and nip at you.

and when you guys go to bed a few hours later, your drowsy, warm body in the middle of both of them, the thunder rumbling outside is a pleasant reminder of the night this all started.

(part 2)

#richboy au #aha just kidding #unless #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #ateez smut #poly ateez

795 notes · View notes

cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

6 Shots of Coffee (Jaemin x you + Dreamies)

a/n: I am back! With a sudden wild oneshot. Please be aware that this is purely fan-fiction. Anything happening here is mere pure imagination. I did not intend to connect any disorders with the idols in real life.

Warning : characters with disorders, a lot of dozing off characters, character with slight adhd (i tried my best to picture them correctly but I’m sorry if everything is wrong, i only did a short research). Mentions of orphanage, drunk parents, and a broken family. HAPPY ENDING!

CHARACTERS : dream (minus Hyuck and Mark), Taeyong, and Yuta also our brave (y/n)!

here we go,

If there are three things in life you hate, that will be Jaemin, Jaemin, and oh god another team assignment with Jaemin!

Jaemin has been the most excruciating classmate you ever have! Not only did he tease you about your freakin need of keeping things in their proper place and keeping things spotless, but he also keeps using you to help him pass his classes. Yet no teacher minds your complain, and all the school girls think you're a freak for being mad about sharing a group project with the handsome guy.

No you’re not sick or weird. You just love organizing things and you like clean things a bit too much. Why? Coz you've had some bad memories with dirty things. Okay Jaemin is just another naughty kid in your class who likes to play and have fun with others, but you certainly did not find his jokes funny.

“Come on calm down (y/n)! It's only coffee, we can clean that.” Jaemin tries to laugh it off despite seeing you standing completely frozen in front of him with an empty cup and you with a brown uniform. Although you clearly see there is a slight worry in his eyes.

You hold yourself back. How come the worst day has to become worse?! You woke up to period cramps, you forgot a homework thanks to late night distracted room cleaning, and as you were about to rush to type your homework in the library, Jaemin decided to meddle and spill his coffee on your white uniform.

A part of you want to scream and yell and pull his hair apart, but you're too tired to talk with Jaemin. Let alone think about Jaemin, there's just so many things you hate related to Jaemin.

Despite him trying his best to apologize and to help you wash your clothes, which is something new… Jaemin never cared if he messed up with you. You ended up slapping his hand away when he wants to drag you to the office to ask a spare uniform.

“Go away! I have to rush,” you push him aside with your shoulder and run to the library. Knowing so well you'll probably get another minus score and a weird look from the library thanks to your stained uniform.

You hate the feeling of sitting down with this coffee stained shirt, and as much as you want to open that shirt and change into something else, you don’t have the energy. So, after sitting down on the table with the library's laptop you stare into the keyboard only to focus more on your uniform and the least wanted thing happens.

You cry. You cry by yourself in the corner of the room and you don’t really mind the stare they give. You just want to end life here, can anyone just stab you? Or can the ground split and swallow you?

There’s another thing you hate other than Jaemin meddling with your ugly life. It's dirt and unorganized objects. Why? Well you were once a very regular kid, always playing in the rain mud and all kinds of sand. You don’t mind having dirt all over your body you know when you go home you can shower. That's until you grow up and notice how your family is different. Your parents look like they are okay, but every night you hear them argue and argue. The argument gets stronger and scarier, they shout, scream, throw things down and you were always awaken to the no longer comfy homey house. You realize one day you woke up to seeing your dad getting drunk, your mother depressed, and the house super dirty like a tornado just hold a party. It’s awful to wake up to the smell of cigar and alcohols instead of bacons and eggs. You had to keep one plate with you or else it will end up like its friends, lifeless, prickly, sharp, on the ground.

Your maid stopped working, you're moved to a new school, this middle school where you meet Jaemin and some other annoying problematic students. Your once colorful life turned dark and gloomy. No longer you woke up to morning kiss and breakfast. You find yourself sitting alone in the dining room, preparing your own sandwich from some cheap dry bread. No more nutella and you're grateful for butter.

You tried to understand, keeping all to yourself as you grow up and noticed your family is broken. You thought everything will get better, one day mom and dad will love each other again and you'll be back with the bright family you love.

Life is not that kind. Life is cruel, on your 14th birthday your dad left for another woman and your mother dropped you off to an orphanage. She said she can no longer pay for your school and living fees. Heck she even had to borrow money to buy you your monthly pads.

The cheerful friendly you turned 180° into a mournful secretive teenager. You hate everyone who looks bright and you hate every single dirt. Seeing unorganized things and dirty objects just remind you of the dark memories you want to forget.

The orphanage found your smart talent and you got a scholarship making you still able to attend the school. The orphanage you live in has a rule where there is a schedule for cleaning up and preparing dish. You meet a similar boy who has the same problem with you; just that he looks like he had overcome his bitterness and chooses to live a happy life. Which you deadly want to do but cannot.

Renjun, is the only person you talk to in that house. The adults taking care over you, still cannot make you talk comfortably with him and you're not planning to do any sooner.

“Hey, it's me. Should we make a letter to the office and go home?” Renjun's soft voice comes to your ear and you look up to him with blood red eyes.

“How long have I been crying?” you sniffle.

He shrugs his shoulder “I just came an hour ago when I noticed you're missing Chemistry class and Jaemin too. I thought he was with you.”

You scowl “Why would I be with Jaemin?”

Renjun scratches his head “I don’t know… you were always assigned a team with him… I thought both of you are rushing a task.”

“I am having a bad day.” You exhale.

Renjun shakes his head “That is more than a bad day. Here, put this on that coffee is hot or cold?” he gives you his school blazer and you gladly put it over your stained uniform.

You sigh, of course Renjun noticed. He is also like you, despise any single speck of dust.

“Jaemin spilled his cold coffee on me. Now I am late to submit my work, I'll never get the essay done and I am skipping classes. GREAT! Looks like I will be kicked out of school next week.”

Renjun shakes his head again “Silly, you're dramatic. They won’t kick you just because of that. What about your achievements?”

You scoff “They can always find another better painter. I could barely tell difference in colors.”

Renjun smiles well that’s what makes you different. The school honors your brilliant talent of drawing although you have a hard time distinguishing colors. But your emotions are well delivered on every picture you paint. That gives honor to the school when the art teacher secretly sent your works to different curators and exhibitions.

“Come, we will go home. I'll make your letter. Can you wait for me in the lobby by yourself?” Renjun smooths your hair away.

You shake your head and clearly looks afraid “Can I join you?”

He nods and lets you go with him, blaming himself for ever offering you that option.

You got home, Renjun fixes your mood by giving you new clothes. Yes, as simple as that, and you’re already less scarier than before. He makes you tea when he saw the circled date on the calendar and drops you some pain killers.

“It's that month, sorry for not noticing had I known, I'd bring you home when I heard Jaemin looking for you around the school.”

You pause from cutting the potatoes, well you need to start cooking dinner for the others. “Jaemin looked around for me?”

Renjun nods “Uh huh that's also how I know something is not right. Jaemin never looked for you except when he needs your score.”

You curl your lips “Weird. He also wanted to bring me to the office, which he never did before.”

Your sudden emotional change is a regular thing to Renjun. Although at first he has to bear with your monthly exploding sensitivity since you're the first teenage girl in this house, Renjun manages to tame you down when he calmly offer you a cup of warm chamomile tea you love.

“Maybe it’s the coffee.” You shrug it off. Come to think of it, you never see the school selling coffee but Jaemin always brings his cup of super dark coffee.

“Oh home early?” Taeyong, the oldest son of the orphanage owner, greets you both. Well Taeyong is like the head matron here, every school letter directed to him and every new kid will meet him.

“It's not her day. I brought her home before she spent another day dozing off in the school's garden.” Renjun whispers to Taeyong and the older just nods his head.

“Oh! Did I mention to you we will have a new family tonight? Please be nice, he comes from this neighborhood and we actually had been waiting for his arrival since last month, but he always escaped before his vise parents want to drop him here.

You grow annoyed at this news. Well you don’t really like having to act kind and good in front of the others. Especially when meeting new members. Taeyong always asked you to at least be welcoming and less patronizing but you cannot keep your resting bitch face to yourself.

“I might as well skip dinner.” You taunt at Taeyong “No way I am acting kind in front of that person when I had a shitty day.”

Taeyong just hums to your threat, it is nothing new. You're a stone heart and he doesn’t want to have to slap you because of your stubbornness.

“I don’t mind. Just try to be welcoming, he had a rough time too.” Taeyong waves his hand and disappears behind his study room.

“I wonder who is going to join us. Our dining table is empty after Mark and Hyuck got adopted.” Renjun is excited to welcome the new family, maybe because he really likes it better here and therefore, he wants to make sure everyone else is welcomed.

Unlike you who still can't swallow the bitter truth. For you, your real family was the best, yet you didn’t know when everything started to fall apart.

The other comes home, you see Jisung, Jeno, and Chenle coming from the backyard and you hide yourself back on your room. Dinner is ready they just have to heat it up. The stew.

You close your window and come back to sit in front of your paper. Trying to remember what project you missed and have to do.

You look around the room, you used to have a bigger room, but after Taeyong knew you cannot stay still when there are mess, he moved you to a smaller room where you cannot store so many things. He said its for your own good. He doesn’t want you to stress yourself and distract your studies just to clean things up.

You feel your stomach rumbling but when you hear the noisy sound downstairs, you remember the new family. Actually, you are curious, so you sneak from your room and take a peek from the walls.

Your mind might be playing tricks on you, you rub your eyes and focus more to the familiar man in the same uniform as yours. You want to doubt it, but when you hear Jisung repeats his name you want to jump away from this house and run far away.

Life must have hated you so much to send Na Jaemin not only to your school but also to your “house".

Although you try to ignore him, your mind wonders what makes him come here. He looks like he is okay, only naughty, but he doesn’t look like an orphan.

“Dinner?” Yuta, Taeyong's younger brother asks you when he was about to go down and greet Jaemin.

You quickly gasp and shake your head before making a quick run to lock yourself in your room.

You try to think of any reason why Jaemin is here… from dinner to nine you cannot think of doing other thing rather than fiddling with your pen as you let your brain wonder and wonder.

Only around twelve did you suddenly jolt and realize you've wasted another night without doing your paper. You hear a step on the squeaky floor, and you have to stay quiet. Taeyong and Yuta wouldn’t like seeing you still awake this late. However, you don’t recognize the footsteps. Must be Jaemin’s.

The next morning, you escape earlier from the house. Leaving before breakfast for the sake of not meeting Jaemin. You're still mad at him and you hate him. You hate him for giving you hard times at school and now at “home".

You were waiting in the class when suddenly Jaemin comes into the class with a nervous face. You wonder did he just see a ghost? Jaemin really looks out of his place. Did he finally realize he is thrown away to the orphanage? Or did he finally realize you're secretly writing foot notes to the teacher that Jaemin is only leeching on your grades? Did he get called by the office?

You try your best to stop distracting your mind and continue working your essay. Thank goodness you can submit the work when the teacher leaves the class, only then did you see Jaemin's frozen state on his chair.

“Jaem?” you surprise yourself too for calling out his name. He also looks surprised.

“Yes?” he puts on his damn sickening pretty smile back like he always did to other students.

“Erase that smile. It's creepy.” You mutter and the other girls in your class is wanting to end you up there and then.

“Sorry, it’s just that… I … I didn’t get my coffee this morning.”

You raise your brow, oh right. Taeyong and Yuta are not giving us caffeine until we are 20.

You raise a brow “And? Can’t you skip once?”

His feet thump on the floor and he looks around nervously “You're right. I- don’t mind me.” He stands up and suddenly leaves you with bigger question mark in your head.

He sure is weird. What’s wrong with skipping one cup of that bitter liquid?

“(Y/n)! Come let's go home.” Renjun greets you on the lobby as you wait for the youngers to come too.

“Noona, you should meet Jaemin hyung! He is so sweet last night!” Jisung tugs on your uniform.

You frown and shudder your shoulder “Jisung, I hate that man.”

Jeno just laughs at your words and at Jisung's surprised expression “So, should we wait for him?”

You click your tongue “Actually that weird man left class after the first session and did not come back to class. Maybe he ran away. Let's go before it rains.” You start leaving the lobby, but no one follows you.

“Is it because of us?” Jisung worriedly asks his brothers.

Renjun thinks for a while “You mean what happened this morning?”

Jisung nods. Your ear can still hear them, for they start walking after you too. You have to hold yourself from turning around and asking them what happened this morning that made him weird!

When the five of you enter the house, that's when your brain finally clicked on what Jaemin must be suffering.

There in the middle of the living room, is Jaemin looking so uncomfortable as he forces his hand to write on a paper with a textbook opened by his side, but what comes out of his hand is just scribbles of lines and curves and he looks like he is painting instead of writing an essay.

“So damn hard to be productive!” he suddenly throws his pen and pulls his hair. All five of you are shocked to see this. Even you! You never see this side of Jaemin in school. He always looks like the charming prince every girl’s crush, but this is definitely not the same man.

His lips are trembling, limbs unable to stop shaking and he looks in pain. And he starts to hit himself as if scolding his body for not cooperating.

You are in awe and you have to quickly usher Jisung and Chenle away.

“Jaemin! Calm down okay.” Jeno and Renjun quickly stand by his side and tries to keep the boy from hitting himself.

You bring Jisung and Chenle to their rooms while your head is quickly thinking of what to do. You sure see he is panicking and he's throwing tantrum. Taeyong and Yuta are not here yet but when you see your reflection on the window with a clean uniform suddenly your mind reminds you of the incident yesterday.

Coffee. Na Jaemin needs coffee. As silly as it sounds, you've read somewhere that coffee can help someone with ADHD or something like that. You're not sure, but you want to give it a chance. You run to your room, break your saving jar and pick out the bills you've been saving.

“Jaemin, how many shots?” you ask him when you pass through him.

Renjun and Jeno look at you with question in their face but Jaemin understands you and holds out a number with his hand.

Your eyes widen but you run to the nearest coffee shop, the one with the brand you always see Jaemin holding.

“Give me americano with six shots of espresso. Cold I don’t know with water or not.” You sound as mad as a hatter, but the barista seems to notice something.

“Are you by any chance taking an order for Jaemin?” he asks you nod your head baffled that he is a regular here until the shift knows his order and name.

“I was confused when the morning shift told me Jaemin skipped his coffee today. Alright i'll make it like how he always orders.” The man with a name tag Mark punches the bill and gives you the amount.

You don’t mind paying such high price for the black bitter drink you never like, as soon as Mark hands you the drink you walk as fast as you can back to the house.

You see Renjun waiting for you in the porch and he looks pale.

“Where did you go?! I was worried.” Renjun almost scolds you for leaving suddenly.

You walk past him “Jaemin! I have your coffee.” You yell at him, who is currently staring on the TV that's off. Jeno is still sitting next to him, afraid that Jaemin will do anything dangerous.

Jaemin's eyes widen as he quickly takes over the drink and gulp it down like his life depends on it.

All three of you wait for him to finish half of his drink and like magic, Jaemin looks calmer.

He closes his eyes and leans on the couch. His head rests on the small pillow Jeno tosses to him and you can see his usual self back.

After ten minutes, he opens his eyes stretches his body and like a robot who has his reset button pressed, Jaemin shoots a “what?” look to the three of you.

“Sorry if I freaked all of you out. I…” he shyly scratches his head “I have a minor ADHD and … coffee seems to be helping me focus and calm down.”

Now everything clicks. You understand why the teacher actually always assigned you with him, because no one else can handle Jaemin as patient as you and you're too blunt to notice he has his own trouble. You understand why he always brings a coffee to the class and why he looks calm when he has them. Unlike yesterday when he spilled it over you, you clearly see a slight terror in his eyes, and he disappeared from class. Maybe he was shy of showing his true self in class. You now know the reason he skipped class today because of the lack of caffeine and you just didn’t know he is also as wrecked as you guys.

That night, Jaemin knocks on your door and invites you to join dinner.

“You skipped dinner last night, I don’t know if it’s because I was there… and yesterday I was really ruining your day. I'm sorry I wasn’t a good friend too at school.” Jaemin speaks rather in a calm tone and you're taken aback he can speak in a soft kind voice and not the high pitch annoying teasing voice you regular get in school.

You're flustered, but you quickly put back your cold face “It's okay. T'was my fault too not looking the way. Don’t worry I skipped dinner last night coz I am not hungry.” You lied.

No way you were going to spill the truth to him, not when you already know how hard his days are. He was not as bright and happy as he looks like.

“Renjun told me last night everything about you. I am so sorry…I didn’t know my jokes were very painful and disturbing to you. I should’ve stopped but you know I sometimes cannot hold my brain back.” Chuckles Jaemin nervously.

You sigh and place a hand on his shoulder “Life is hard right?” He nods his head and you squeeze his shoulder, “We also find it hard. But at least we're not alone now. We have each other and the others too. I am also sorry for picking on you to the teacher for leeching my score, but I promise I won’t do that again. I'll help you Jaemin.” You smile sincerely to him.

His face brightens “You're the best! I always have hard time focusing! Well coffee helps me, but still it's not healthy.”

You take his hand in yours “Na Jaemin, you're a part of our family now. Since we're family, we will get each other's back! Don’t worry things will be okay and you too will be okay!”

He Smiles and that is a new smile you've ever seen on him. A smile that's pure and true. That shows he too is also a human who can feel pain not just the angelic handsome boy in class.

“We should eat. The others are waiting,” Chenle's appearance in the hallway makes you and Jaemin turn your heads to him.

“She's right. We're family, now family eats dinner, together right? Come on! Taeyong hyung got us some pizzas for your welcome party.” Chenle drags the taller man's hand which automatically pulls you too.

A smile comes to your face when you realize just how perfect this imperfect family is!

Yes you also struggled focusing on a certain job, yes you also hate messy stuffs, yes it's true Renjun took three months to open his mouth and speak complete sentences, it also takes Jeno five months to be true about his feelings, and Jisung plus Chenle? They also have their fish to fry. Now Jaemin, is here with his own battle that will soon be shared within us.

Just like the famous quote, Ohana means family and family means no one is left behind.

Looking around the table, although you really wish you have a sister or a mother figure here, you're more than happy to call the 7 men your brothers and families.

end

please let me know if there are anything I can fix. I am trying a new genre and it’s a bit challenging but I am happy with finishing this.

Contact or reach me out if you have any curiosity of what happens to the members or maybe you wonder what their problems are.

Thank you for reading :D 🤗💖

39 notes · View notes

lightblueminecraftorchid · 2 years

Text

Dear Little Liza,

You know your cousin’s little boy? The one whose name is hard to spell? You like hanging out w him, don’t you? He just makes more sense than most kids.

And that’s kinda funny, isn’t it? Because his mom’s told the family that he has something called autism, and that means that what he does might not make a lot of sense. The whole family has been worried, because he has a hard time getting along w your brothers, and most of your other cousins are too old to pay much attention to him.

You kinda hang out with him at every family party, though, don‘t you? Grandma gets all teary-eyed and happy when you do that, even though you just want someone to hang out with. And that’s a great thing, because now he has someone to hang out with, and you have someone to hang out with, and it works out. You just get along really well. It’s kinda weird how your family keeps telling you how nice you are for doing that. You’re just playing with him, it’s not like you’re making some noble sacrifice. The hugs they give you are pretty nice, though.

Hey, little Liza, who are you friends with at school?

Well, I guess that answer depends on how young you are, huh? It was really hard to make friends when you were younger. Mom and dad think it’s because you moved schools a lot. What do you think?

Its really hard to talk to other kids, isn’t it? When you say things, they don’t react the way you expect them to. Sometimes they’re really mean. Sometimes they say something, and you think they’re being nice or silly, but then they laugh at you or are being secretly mean, and that’s not fun at all. You have to watch other kids and guess and hope what you do is okay. Grownups make a lot more sense, don’t they? They usually tell you what they want. Usually. What are your feelings about that?

It sucks? Yeah, it does. I’m sorry, dear.

Hey, Liza. Why don’t you tell me about the human body? How do nerves work? What about the brain? Dang, that’s pretty awesome! You know a lot about that, huh? Could you tell me more?

What’s the grossest food ever, Liza?

Mashed potatoes? Why? Do they taste gross?

No?

It feels bad in your mouth? That means the texture bothers you. Texture is how something feels when you touch it, right? That can happen with your mouth, not just your skin. What about other gross foods? Do they taste bad, or is their texture bad?

Huh. A lot of those are about texture, aren’t they?

Little Liza, my dear, it looks like you may have autism.

And that’s a weird thought, isn’t it? Because autism is what your little cousin has, and he’s very clearly different from other kids. His voice is sing-song, off-rhythm, and he screams and cries when he doesn’t get what he wants, or if someone is too loud. He hates it when people sing to him, but he likes it when you sing. He wants the same song over and over. He won’t eat almost anything, and he has a hard time sharing his toys. For a long time, he couldn’t talk at all, and he used his iPad to ask for things. Sometimes he says something rude and doesn’t get why he shouldn’t say it, and he doesn’t lie, ever, even when he’s supposed to. He doesn’t get jokes, either, unless they’re puns. He likes those a lot. He doesn’t use his coloring books right, either; he just draws different pictures on top of them.

Hey, doesn’t that kind of sound like you?

What? You know better than that? Yeah, that’s true. You‘re really good at telling when people are upset, and what things you shouldn’t say to adults. You eat a regular dinner most of the time. You love to sing, and love it when other people sing! You learned to talk really early, right? Everyone says you’re really mature for your age, and your cousin seems to act immature. And you don’t speak in that sing-song voice; you’re really good at being polite and putting emotion in your voice and making jokes and-

Hey, Little Liza, when you’re upset or scared, can you talk? When you do talk, are you able to control what you say? Do you sometimes say the wrong thing on accident, and get in trouble for lying?

Is it easy to control your emotions, or is it a lot of work?

Do you eat a regular dinner every night? Or do you skip dinner on purpose sometimes?

Is it confusing when different situations have different rules? Do you have a hard time telling what’s appropriate in new settings, like a funeral or a wedding?

You’re good at making jokes; are you good at telling when other people are joking? What about when they’re being sarcastic or pretend-nice?

You’re good at picking up emotions, but do you know what to do when someone else is upset? Or is it hard to figure out, because you can only go off of what you would want?

Do you show emotion with your face naturally, or on purpose? When you get something you’re excited about, is it easy or hard to show that you’re excited?

Do you get sick of listening to the same song over and over, or do you like it? What about wearing the same thing to school every day, if you get to pick?

Is it easy to talk to people when their interests don’t match your own? Do you talk a lot about what you find interesting? Is it easy or hard to tell when to stop talking?

Dear Little Liza, you probably have autism. And that’s okay! You don’t have to change anything, or trace everything you do back to a symptom, or worry about being diagnosed or not. It’s part of you, but it isn’t everything about you, and it’s not a Big Bad Thing. It doesn’t make you stupid or mean or weird, it just makes you, you. Your brain has a slightly different structure to other people’s; isn’t that cool? Wanna learn about it?

(And I’ll be here to help you, and listen to you talk, and one day, we’ll figure it out. Together.)

#Letters to myself #gosh this sure is a rambly one.#but this is one I really wish I’d known when I was younger #“Hey this is an actual legitimate disorder it’s not you being mean on purpose”#anyway #probably gonna write more on this but I have no idea when

6 notes · View notes

mynumberfivethings · 3 years

Note

Hi! I’m new to this world, I found your account from your stories about five and ageplay. I absolutely love them, I had an idea I thought I could share. I’m assuming this is taking place where littles are known? If not, it is for this idea! One of the siblings plans a fun family event: a day at the circus. It’s all well and good, maybe they get cotton candy. But then the clowns come out. Little Five freaks. And that’s how the Hargreaves discover five is scared of clowns. I hope this makes sense!

the AU does take place in a world where littles are known! and awww that’s precious! this turned out a little longer than intended. oops.

Five has not so fond memories of clowns-memories that have to do with the Commission and a certain overly enthusiastic, overly bloodthirsty co-worker. He doesn’t like to think about the man or that creepy fucking hyper realistic clown mask he never took off. It’s all in the past, after all.

Or so he thinks, until Five is in his “little” headspace, holding Diego’s hand so he doesn’t get lost in the crowd as they line up to have their tickets taken and be seated. Klaus leans down behind him and grins, confusing the nervousness Five is feeling for jittery excitement. “I heard they use holographic animals in this show. Isn’t that cool?”

Five nods silently, his grip on Diego’s hand getting a little tighter as the line starts moving. Diego pauses to look down at Five, eyebrow raised. He assumes the kid is tired of standing still-they have been in line for a while now, he knows how much kids hate waiting, how cranky it makes them. “C’mere bud.” Diego scoops him up easily and carries him against his hip.

Five wraps his arms around Diego’s neck and leans the side of his head against his shoulder gratefully.

By the time they find their seats Five has calmed down and even nearly forgotten that their might be clowns in the show-instead, he’s looking forward to seeing the amazing holograms and the fun light show. Allison waves down a man selling cotton candy and hands him the biggest fluffiest pinkest one on the tray.

Vanya chuckles at the expression of absolutely awe on Fives face when he holds the giant ball of cotton candy in his hand. “Oh god, Allison, he’s not gonna sleep for a week straight if he eats that.” she says, as she watches Five take his first bite.

Allison shrugs, already taking out her phone to take photos of Five as he demolishes the sugary snack. Luther, ever the responsible sibling, searches the inside of his backpack for wet wipes and upon finding them, reaches across to clean Fives face, once he’s finished eating. He’s sticky with the cotton candy, hands, cheeks and even his nose. Five makes little grumbling noises as he’s wiped down but lets Luther do it without any real qualms.

Ben buys them all a bunch of light up neon wands to wave around when the show starts. Five and Klaus end up play fighting with the wands until Vanya threatens to take them away after they get a little too close to hitting someone sitting in the row below them. Klaus sticks his tongue out at Vanya and they both laugh when Five gasps and says, “Not nice!”

Ben ruffles Fives hair lovingly and nods in agreement. “That’s right, not nice Klaus.”

Klaus rolls his eyes but he’s smiling too.

Suddenly the lights all go off at once and they’re enveloped in total darkness. Five grips the closest hand next to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Is this part of the show? He can’t see a thing. Is something wrong? Is it-

Diego puts his other hand atop Fives and leans over to whisper into his ear. “It’s ok buddy, just the show starting.”

Five gulps. “Ok.”

A single yellow light pops up center stage to illuminate a man in a top hat and striped pants and it’s clear he’s here to make an introduction. Five peers up, now curious. The show is amazing-an understatement, really-the animals float seamlessly over the audience and Five even got to reach his hand out and almost touch an elephant! Everything is bright and colorful and Five awes at the trapeze artists in their glittery leotards who swing from so high up.

Everything is going swimmingly, right up until a polka dotted buggy drives right onto the stage and out come not one, not two, not three, but four clowns! They’re not scary, Five tells himself, it’s just makeup, he has to remember, just makeup and silly clothes and too big shoes, is all. There is nothing to be afraid of.

Except that all the logic big Five is trying to put into little Five’s head isn’t staying in said head. All Five can remember right that moment is Charles from the Commission. Like Five, Charles didn’t enjoy wearing those ridiculous animal mascot hats-instead, he went the elaborate route of painting on a clown face before every mission. Five knows this because it was one of the few none solo missions he’d been assigned in his short time at the Commission.

Charles was a quiet man-something Five hadn’t minded at all back then, seeing that he didn’t have much to say to strangers, either. The targets were five individuals who had very little in common, except for the fact that they would all be attending a childrens charity event on a crisp Saturday evening.

It hadn’t been Five’s idea to burn down the building, and with it, hundreds of people-including their targets-but Five hadn’t been able to stop Charles, either, and that would haunt him for quite some time.

He remembers standing outside of the building set aflame, remembers the agonized screaming coming from inside, remembers the helplessness he felt, and most of all, he remembers Charles the fucking clown stood next to him, laughing so disturbingly that the sound of it would be a reoccurring soundtrack in Fives nightmares for years to come.

So when the clowns begin to walk into the crowd Five remembers Charles and it doesn’t matter that these clowns don’t have a penchant for murder, Five can feel all that cotton candy start to make its way back up his esophagus and the panic in him rising as they come closer and closer.

His breath stutters in his chest when he blurts out, “Wanna go home.” but the music is so loud that not a single one of his siblings hear him and the clowns are coming closer and closer and closer still. Without another thought Five disappears, only a swoosh of electrifying blue any indication that he was once even there.

That, the Hargreeves notice immediately. “Five?!”

******************************************************

“Do you think he went home?” Allison asks, already calling the landline at the house.

Vanya shrugs, looking around the stands, hoping Five got an inkling for a stuffed animal or something-though that’s very out of character for him. “He rarely ever teleports when he’s in his little headspace.”

Ben nods, “Yeah, I think the only times he does is if he wakes up little from a nightmare-he blinked onto my bed and scared the living shit out of me last week. Maybe something frightened him?”

Diego huffs. “Five’s been jumpy since we got here. I thought he was just excited, ‘cause we’ve never been to one of these places, but-” he curses, “I should’ve known it was something else.”

Klaus pats him comfortingly on the shoulder, “None of us noticed something was wrong, this isn’t just on you. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

They search all over until Luther calls out for them to meet him in a bathroom stall, where they finally find Five, huddled over a toilet, throwing up.

“Oh honey,” Allison rubs his back gently, “I shouldn’t have given you all that cotton candy, I’m sorry.”

Five shakes his head and when he looks up his face is stained with tears. “W-wanna go home.” he begs. “Please.”

“Of course, baby,” Allison brushes the bangs away from his face and takes a tissue out of her bag to wipe at his tears. “Can you stand up?”

Five sniffles miserably. “Up?”

Luther takes that as his cue to pick up the little and tuck him securely against his chest. “Alright buddy, let’s get outta here, yeah?”

Five nods, his fingers gripping at Luthers shirt desperately.

************************************************

He’s still shaking visibly by the time they get back home.

They quickly conclude it couldn’t have just been the cotton candy making Five sick that made him react so poorly. It had to be something else.

“Hey,” Vanya scoots onto the couch next to Five and draws him into her arms so that his back is up against her chest. He goes easily, relaxing minutely at the comforting touch.

Klaus comes into the living room with Fives favorite sippy cup and offers it to him. "I put some gingerale in there to help your stomach, Fivey, so drink up, ok?"

Five nods, holding onto the cup with both hands.

"Hey, you know you can talk to us, right? Did something happen to upset you so bad?" Allison squeezes his knee gently, imploring.

Five shakes his head, his breath hitching. He drops his cup and brings the palms of his hands up to his eyes, making a face and a noise of discomfort before looking up again. The switch from his little headspace to his big headspace is almost instantaneous.

His siblings can tell immediately-any softness and vulnerability in Fives eyes is suddenly replaced with a guarded expression. He backs away from both of his sisters, embarrassed. "Sorry," he says, clearing his throat, "I'm fine."

Diego rolls his eyes. "I'm calling bullshit. Five, you cried the entire way home. Hell, you look like you wanna cry right now. No one is gonna judge you. You can open up to us." He insists.

Five bites his bottom lip anxiously and folds his arms across his chest. He knows he's not fooling anyone. "It's stupid." He mutters.

"No one is going to force you to talk about it if you're not comfortable," Allison says, pointedly looking at Diego, who sighs and shrugs. "But, Diego is right, we're not here to judge you. We just want to help."

Five gulps and looks away. "It was the clowns." He murmurs under his breath, so low they barely hear him.

"The what?" Ben asks, leaning forward.

Five groans. "It was the fucking clowns, ok?" He admits, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I don't...like clowns."

Luther raises a brow. "Are you...? Really? You're not trying to pull our legs? You are scared of clowns?" He can't help but be incredulous. Five isn't afraid of anything. Not anything tangible, at least.

"Yes, ok?" Five snaps out. "During my stint at the Commission I had to-" he cuts himself off abruptly. He can feel his chest growing tight. "Look, I don't exactly have the most pleasant memories regarding clowns and I'd really rather not talk about it."

Five is shaking again. Trembling a little more subtly than he had been in his little headspace, but trembling nonetheless, and his siblings all take note.

Vanya reaches out slowly, giving Five well enough time to back away. She rests her hand above his shoulder. "C'mere." She nudges him softly and is surprised when Five actually lets himself be pulled into her arms without any qualms.

Five turns so that his face is hidden against Vanyas neck, he hunches over, making himself all the smaller. "Sorry I ruined our day out." He mutters.

"Nonsense!" Klaus exclaims. "We left early and skipped out on all the traffic, not to mention all of Allison's road rage."

Allison playfully smacks Klaus' arm. "I do not have road rage!"

Five huffs out what sounds like a laugh. He sits up but sticks close to his siblings this time, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "You do, though."

"See? Told you." Klaus sticks his tongue out at her.

"Hush, at least I can drive," Allison waves him away. "You have no room to criticize here."

Klaus gasps, as though offended. "Gays can't drive, everyone knows that. Way to be insensitive." He can feel Ben's eyes rolling even if he can't see him.

Vanya hums. "I mean, I can drive, so..."

"Betrayal," Klaus shakes his head. "Betrayal of the highest kind Vanya. Truly."

This devolves quickly into the Hargreeves arguing over who in fact is the best driver in the family.

Five lets himself curl up on the couch between Vanya and Diego. He listens and sometimes even interjects as the bickering ensues among his siblings, the tightness in his chest slowly loosening.

#tua #five hargreeves #hargreeves siblings #hargreeves family #ask #answered #number five #little!five #five is a little #littles exist #AU #long post

48 notes · View notes

stealingpotatoes · 4 years

Text

because you’re mine

Ao3 link

Summary: In a quiet moment at the Hound Pits Pub, Emily asks Corvo who her father is. Corvo knows he has to tell her.

n/b: I wrote a fluffy Emily-accidentally-finds-out-about-Corvojess fic a while back, and while I LOVE that idea, I also love the idea of Corvo telling her after the whole assassination thing (and I think that that might be more canon compliant, considering this). So yeah… here’s that!

---

Corvo hated waiting between missions.

Taking Lady Boyle out at her own party was a smart idea. There would be so many other masked men there that Corvo could slip right in, remove her from play, and slip out with no worry about the guards. It’d be a nice change from having to skulk past and knock out every City watchman in order to not be seen. Though the idea of going to one of those noble parties he hated so much wasn’t as nice a change. But he could do it. He’d probably been to more than a hundred of those. He could make it through one more.

You’ve never been to one without Jess, an unwelcome voice in his mind reminded him. He pressed his lips to a thin line. He could make it through one more party, even without her. He had to do it. He had to for her, to cut Burrows’ funding and get one step closer to ending his reign of tyranny. To get her justice.

But the real issue was waiting . He had to wait until the night of the party. It was so very soon -- only tomorrow evening -- but it felt too far away. There was too much time to think about things he didn’t want to think about, too much empty space. The waiting between missions was the worst part about them.

He thought it should have been missions themselves; pushing himself like that after six months of prison and pain should have been a bad thing. But on missions, he could distract himself from everything by focusing on the objective and nothing else. Finally not feeling useless and weak, finally feeling like he was doing something to fix things. To make up for his failure that day, and everything that had happened afterwards.

In times like this, in between, the feelings of restless uselessness crept back in. He’d had plenty of quiet moments to think in Coldridge; he didn’t need any more. He was doing nothing to help. Nothing to get justice, nothing to get Emily back home and on her rightful throne. Right now, he was sitting on his bed in the Hound Pits and sharpening his sword. He hardly used it on missions, but maintaining his weapons and training himself was a good way to pass the time. It was the best thing he could do to try and abate the useless feeling. Preparing himself for the mission ahead, making sure he would succeed. If he did want to use his sword, he couldn’t have it being blunt or failing to open. He couldn’t leave anything to chance.

His thoughts were interrupted by quiet and familiar footsteps coming from the stairwell. Corvo allowed himself a small smile. He knew those steps almost as well as he knew his own.

Knowing Emily, she was trying to move as quietly as she could -- trying to copy his own near-silent footsteps. She’d spent hours trying to perfect it back home, and was always annoyed when he could still hear her small footsteps coming, and when he could still sneak up on her.

The tread got closer and stopped where his room began. “Hi Corvo.”

Corvo glanced behind him, pretending to have only just noticed her in the doorway, holding some paper and pens in her small hands, and smiled at her, “Hey Em.”

She smiled back. “Can I come in here and draw?”

“Are you done with your lessons?” Corvo asked, despite knowing they would be by now. He had to remind her that her lessons were important, even if now they seemed like a silly thing to be concerned with.

Emily dropped her shoulders dramatically, “Yes. They were so boring.” She walked further into the room and plopped herself on the floor, evidently taking his question as a yes. She knew by now he would never deny her his company.

Corvo folded his sword in one practiced motion, not wanting weapons out when Emily was in the room, and caught her interested look at the blade. Swords and fighting -- particularly him fighting -- had always interested her. Certainly more than her lessons with Callista did. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find that Emily had tried to ask Piero for her own version, though Emily wasn’t going to be fighting with anything but wooden sticks for a long time. Hopefully she would never have to touch a blade, despite how much he knew she wanted to be a fighter like him. He didn’t want her to be like him. Anything like him.

“I just had history.” Emily laid out the paper and crayons on the wooden floor in between her and Corvo’s feet. “Callista was teaching me about some of the past Emperors and Empresses and dynasties.”

Corvo placed his sword hilt down by his side and leaned forward, “Anyone not boring?”

Emily kept looking down at her paper, and brushed a finger over her crayons, trying to pick the right colour to start with. “Some interesting ones. Some really not .”

Corvo gave Emily a slight huff and a smile.

Emily perked up and looked at Corvo, “I did learn about my grandfather, Emperor Euhorn.”

Did you learn he was a bit of an asshole? Corvo thought, but luckily didn’t say out loud. “What’d you learn about him?”

“Um… that he was the first of the Kaldwin rulers and he became Emperor in 1803, after a regency that started in 1801,” Emily turned back to her pens and picked a blue one. She set to drawing, “A bit like me. I’ll be Empress after a regency too.”

“Mm,” Corvo agreed, his mouth a thin line. It seemed strange to compare the two events. Then, he’d been a boy of just five, playing in the streets of Karnaca. Dunwall and everything that happened there had seemed so far away and inconsequential to him. If only he’d known. Now… now its events were practically carved onto his skin...

Corvo shook his head slightly, not ready to let himself go down that line of thought. To distract himself, he tried to get a better look at Emily’s paper. He couldn’t quite see what Emily was drawing yet. It looked like the beginnings of a building, perhaps. He loved her drawings. He just about preferred them to the perfect portraits hung around the Tower… though he might have been a little biased. Ok, he was definitely biased.

Emily suddenly stopped drawing. She set her pen down, but didn’t look up from the floor, and she sighed in a way that made her sound a decade older than she was. “Learning about my grandfather made me think… Mother always said she would tell me about my father when I was older. But… she’s gone now and she… can’t tell me,” Emily’s gaze remained blank on the floor.

As Emily spoke, Corvo’s heart felt like it shattered into a million pieces. An uncomfortably familiar feeling now, it seemed. He could ignore how everything made him feel, but any time Emily said something about it all that happened, the flood of emotions threatened to break through the dam of control he’d built.

She can’t tell me. Corvo thought of the Heart, that continuous echoing beat in the back of his mind. Her voice, but not her. Emily wouldn’t be able to hear or see it anyway. Only the Void-touched could. People like him. People like the assassins. She can’t tell me.

“Corvo, do you know who my father is?” Emily looked up from the floor finally, up at him, “Because you were always with Mother… so maybe you… know .”

Her question caught Corvo completely off guard.

He had been asked that near same question -- you’re almost always by Her Majesty’s side, you must know who the princess’ father is -- many times before, by prying nobles and gossips who thought he might share the secret when his Empress wouldn’t. But he never did. He usually insisted he didn’t know, though sometimes he would simply say he was sworn to secrecy, just to annoy people with the idea that he knew something they didn’t.

But he couldn’t lie to Emily. He couldn’t deny her this. Not now. Not when she’d lost her mother; Corvo couldn’t let her believe she was an orphan, couldn’t let her believe that the secret had died with her mother. She needed her father. She needed… she needed Corvo .

Just tell her. Tell her.

He couldn’t silence the voice in his head that was telling him that Emily deserved a better father than him. It was true; she did. She deserved a man who could openly be her father, not a lowborn Serkonan like him. She deserved someone who could have saved her mother, not the ex-Royal Protector who had failed in the worst way imaginable.

But he was what she had. He couldn’t change that. He didn’t want to change that. He loved Emily with every fibre of his being, and she… she was his daughter. Void, he could barely think the words; how was he meant to say them aloud to tell Emily?

This was hardly how he’d imagined telling her. He’d thought it would be when she was a little older, he thought it would be in Dunwall Tower, he thought it would be him and Jess telling her. Maybe he could wait. The latter was impossible, but the first two -- he could wait until they’d reclaimed Dunwall Tower and everything was as okay as it could be to tell her. Or he could tell her now. Or--

“You do know…” Emily said slowly and quietly, furrowing her brow. Corvo realised he’d hesitated too long to make the choice. She was a smart girl, she knew he knew.

Tell her. “Yes… I do.”

Emily’s brown eyes widened. Jessamine had always said Emily’s eyes were just like his own. It would have been a comfort, something nice to see in his daughter, if he hadn’t always been so stressed about someone finding out about him and Jessamine because of them. “Please tell me. Please, Corvo.”

Corvo moved his hand behind his back so Emily wouldn’t see the glow of the Mark and activated Dark Vision, glancing at the door and the room through it. Nobody was there to hear the secret. He wanted to think he could trust the Loyalists not to listen in on him -- or even trust the Loyalists full stop -- but something was off about them, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He hoped it was just his own paranoia born from Burrows’ betrayal, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down too far.

Corvo deactivated Dark Vision, letting the world shift back to its normal colours and gave Emily a sure look, “It still has to be a secret.”

Emily sat up straighter, so very eager to learn the truth. “Yes. I promise. I promise I’ll keep it a secret.”

Corvo nodded. Maybe there wasn’t any point in keeping it a secret anymore, but old habits died very hard, and the anxiety was still pooling in his stomach.

Emily continued to look up at him hopefully, waiting. Say it . Tell her. She needs to know.

“I-” the words didn’t want to leave his mouth. He took a quick breath in- “It’s me. I’m your father.”

“What?” Emily’s mouth was open in shock. She was expecting someone better than you, Corvo thought. But then her expression spread into a grin, and the thought melted away, “Really?!”

“Really.”

“You’re actually my father?” Emily said, the grin still wide on her face. It hit Corvo that she wanted it to be him. She was happy that it was him. Despite everything.

“Mm. And you’re actually my daughter,” Corvo couldn’t help stop himself from smiling as he spoke.

Emily was up off the floor and hugging him in the blink of an eye, her arms tight around his shoulders and her face half-shoved into his coat collar. Corvo closed his arms around her small body and shut his eyes, focusing on the feel of Emily -- his daughter -- safe and sound in his arms.

They pulled away from each other after a few seconds and Emily continued to beam up at him. Corvo didn’t think he deserved that smile, but he would easily die a hundred times over for it.

“I knew it. I knew it was you.”

Corvo thought of all the times Emily had tried to convince him and Jess to get together, and didn’t completely think she was lying.

“This whole time… you were...” Emily glanced down. “You’re my father,” she repeated with a grin at Corvo.

Corvo’s chest ached with love. He couldn’t stop smiling back at her. “Yeah, I am.” And I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my daughter.

It almost seemed like Emily smiled more after he confirmed it again.

Corvo quickly tried to look more serious, “But remember, you can’t tell the others. Including Callista.”

Emily nodded, then shut her mouth and squished her lips together to illustrate ‘my lips are sealed’ .

Corvo gave her an affirmative half-smile. I love you so much.

Emily glanced to the side and paused for a short second. “I know it’s a secret, but could I call you father when it’s just us?” She looked up at him with pleading eyes, “Please?”

The ache of love in his chest grew stronger. Corvo hesitated for a moment. He nodded, not sure he could actually form words through his emotions to say yes.

Emily grinned. “Father,” she all but whispered, trying it out. Then she went in for another surprisingly strong hug. “I love you, father.”

Corvo hoped his daughter couldn’t tell how close he was to crying. “I love you too, Emily.”

#[slaps roof of corvo] you can fit so much self doubt in this man #dishonored #emily kaldwin #corvo attano #dishonored fanfic #dh1 #potes wrotes

69 notes · View notes

p1nkwitch · 3 years

Note

✓ and # with Edith and Jonah!

✓: waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared

#: shaky hands

I'm going to use the Edith from the world turned upside down fic mixed with a mother’s love, i hope you don't mind!

Edith loves her child, her little miracle is the one thing that she can safely say that she loves more than anything in this world.

A new life, a new shot of keeping her son safe, this time for real. When her husband… Well, when he can't deal with her precious Jonah due to remembering their first life, she leaves, she ends things, picks up her child and goes.

James and her talk, of course they do, she did love him, but this time she wanted to keep Jonah safe and happy. So breaking up was for the best. To give him a happy childhood, his ex husband was ok with not interacting with him, even if… her boy wondered why his dad did not come to see him for his birthdays or special occasions.

And it broke her heart, but they both knew he could not deal with him and she did not want him to hurt the boy in any way. So they kept their agreement.

And things are well, they are ok for a long, long time. Her boy is happy, has Barnabas and Jonathan as friends and the three seem inseparable. Edith is just glad that everything is finally well, that this time their lives can be better.

However…

It seems that the world likes to prove her wrong, likes to make her worry.

His son’s friends suddenly dislike him and she thinks about it, has an inkling as to why, that she does not want to consider. Because that means that maybe one day Jonah will recall too and she doesn't know what to do then.

He is unhappy and she knows, but she can't get him new friends, can't explain why they were mad at him without giving more about a life that was. So she keeps an eye on him and hopes for the best.

The best comes, with one Peter Fairchild whom her son suddenly starts to talk about a lot, how quiet and annoying he is, how he never seems to talk with anyone-

Jonah talks about him like a puzzle piece and slowly it turns into him speaking about him far more nicely, how he brings him cookies, how he makes funny comments under his breath-

It makes her unbelievably fond of this boy for bringing her son his joy back. That's why she makes such an effort when he invites him for a sleepover, her Jonah was nervous and she wanted to help.

The boy is a delight and she can see Jonah look at him with a smile and laugh at his antics, it warms her heart, but also… something sort of tries to click on her brain, something she was missing.

She recalled very little of her time after her “death” but… she thinks Jonah came to talk to her grave and he… brought someone along too. She just can't remember much of it. Too weak and hungry for her childs terror of the end.

Things go well, until-

Jonah becomes ill, so, so ill all of a sudden. It reminds her too much of when he fell to the lake and that awful winter, it brings her to tears. He is in bed shaking, pale and out of it. The doctors said that he will be fine, that is not deadly-

But she fears.

She fears and ponders about sacrifices, about keeping her child alive again. Makes the calculations about their neighbours and their kids and waits to see spiders, to see them lead her to the place she needs to go.

Edith will not lose him, never. She will do whatever is necessary to keep her son alive. Whatever sacrifice must be done to achieve it she will do it.

Her hands shake a lot, but she keeps him close and sings the lullaby she sang to him all those years ago, praying its enough, hoping that nothing bad will happen to him. She brushes his sweaty hair away and hears him mumble that he doesn't want to die, the pure ache at hearing him say that makes her shed her own tears.

“No, no you will be fine my little dragon, i swear, i will protect you this time”

He curls up around her and she weeps again for her child, wanting nothing more than to keep him safe and happy.

Jonah wakes up for moments, but he is very out of it, the confused face makes her want to wrap him up in blankets and never let anything bad happen to him.

“Mom, mom im sorry, please im so sorry-”

“Shhh, there is nothing to be sorry about dear” Yet he keeps saying it and she talks to him, tells him stories to keep him preoccupied. Those seem to calm him down enough, she knows he is not really listening, but his cute little face pokes out of the sheets and looks at her mesmerized and its enough.

Enough for now to keep him away from whatever terrible things haunt him in his sleepy hours. His hands reach out to her and hold her own while brushing his little fingers softly on her.

“I'm sorry, you are very pretty mom” She smiles albeit confusedly at him.

“Thank you?”

“Mm sorry i get mad when people say i look too much like you… you are pretty and nice” Her heart is being squeezed and she imagines another life, where she can see those words haunting the boy.

“Its ok my little prince, you are very handsome” He makes a few nonsensical sounds.

“Pretty and nice and you love me lots, I love you mom, I'm sorry I'm not good…” She kisses his forehead.

“Oh Jonah you are everything I have ever wanted, my little firebug I love you, you are so good. And even if you weren't… i'm not that good either, i would love you no matter what” Her boy squeezes her hand and she lays next to him while holding him close.

“Sleep ok? I will be here, always” He nods and she ignores any wet spots on her neck, she merely draws shapes on his back and hums along until his breathing slows down and he sleeps.

Edith is not a good person, not by a long shot. She is aware that she would hurt people for her child, is willing to do it. How silly of her boy to think that she was ever good.

It breaks, the illness that is, she was relieved, so so, relieved.

However the worst is yet to come.

Jonah starts to act more irrational, twitchy, closed off, quiet-

She doesn't know what to do, he also eats so little it makes her fearful of watching him waste away. Peter seems to be doing his best to keep him company, whenever she asks. He looks sort of sad, but says that the boy shares his food with him and sticks around all the time. That at the very least lets her know that someone is looking over him.

Then he comes back one day from his sleepover without saying a word and everything goes downhill.

He is at the hospital, refusing to speak, to explain himself-

He is a shadow of her bright curious child and it makes her mad, at whatever force there is out there that caused this, that caused him to be like this. Was it her? Did she do something? His teachers, classmates-

Peter doesn't know, she asks him once when he comes to wait and that-

That also makes her sad, because Jonah rejects him yet the boy comes back every day, sits and waits for the moment he will say yes.

The name Peter sounds more familiar and the niggling sensation of knowing him comes back.

Still his little face shows guilt and fear and she wants to shake him for answers, but she takes a breath and smiles at him. He is just as worried as her.

She thinks she will kill Mister Sims and his partner, she very much wants to. For now she has to conform with a punch in the face. Still she will get their downfall one way or another.

….

Jonah wakes up.

Confused and… he doesn't know, her son who remembered his life doesn't know anymore. She is between sad and happy that he can let it go, if that's what caused him all this pain.

Still she chooses to lay in the hospital bed next to him, while he looks confused, sad and scared. That makes her brush his hair out of his face and reassures him with whispered words about everything going to be better from now on, that she will be there always.

Jonah looks at her with bleary eyes, still more or less out of it, but its ok, her little gift will be ok now. His face scrunches up adorably and she pokes his nose. She missed this, missed him.

“Mom?” He is still sleepy and she won't begrudge him that.

“Yes firebug?”

“I love you” Her heart swells and she scoops him closer to her holding him while he cries against her again. She will protect his tiny life with her dying breath.

Edith Lenore Magnus loves her son with her whole heart.

He lets the tears fall, a last cleansing of a life that was and he cant recall anymore.

She hums and he sniffles before wiping his tears and letting her calm him down until he falls asleep between her arms.

Peter Lukas.

That was it.

Jonah had called him his husband while she was in her coffin, she remembers now.

She sees the two of them sleeping, while cuddling on the couch, and thinks that she would love to finally be able to be at his wedding this time around.

The boy has proven to love her son so much it's astounding. Even if Simon says that their relationship was rather torrid most of the time, he can see this time around they were far better with each other.

She agrees and hopes this is a better life for all of them.

She sees a spider on the wall and ponders, ultimately she picks up a piece of paper and the arachnid walks on it camly while she sets it free outside.

Perhaps the first time around it was a manipulation, maybe it still is, but the spiders had helped her along to keep her Jonah alive in both lives.

She will not begrudge them at all.

#flurby gets an ask #my writingf #edith my love #based on my fics #murder mom i love you #she loves him so much #I hope this satisfies you

7 notes · View notes