#today he literally watched one crawl into my room and announced that it was going in here :)
Note
ello! saw your post and i wanna request a moon knight in which the reader is a female and she just graduated uni and the moon boys take turns in bed praising her like "our smart pretty girl", "so independent" of course if you are comfortable writing this have a good day/night :)
Praises // Moon Knight boys ☾ x fem!reader
A/N: Thank you for this request, I’ve been desperate to write something like this again! Also if anyone is at university or college, good luck with any exams/essays/results, I know how difficult it can be but trust me, it’s worth it in the end!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, anxiety, fluff, begging, sub steven, dom marc, dom jake, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral sex (f!recieving), creampie, pet names, shower sex, multiple sex positions, fingering, crying, praise kink, sir kink, daddy kink, aftercare, intense orgasms, pain/pleasure, bdsm, literally this is filthy lol, not beta read im sorry for mistakes
Word: 7.6k (oops)
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The hardwood floor creaked beneath your sock-covered feet as you paced back and forth across the flat you shared with the boys. You’d been at it since the moment you’d awakened that day, anxiety rippling through your body so drastically that pacing was the only action you could complete without the overwhelming feeling of throwing up or passing out.
It was the day you’d been waiting for years, results day. And for some unknown reason, the University had decided to release the results in the evening rather than midday which only caused you to overthink everything you had ever done whilst at uni. What if the results are out late because you failed? What if you have to waste another whole year resitting it? Shaking your head, you tried to let your mind go blank before you spiralled into a deep pit.
Steven watched you from his seat on the sofa, his own nerves bubbling in his stomach, hands wringing in his lap as he glanced at the clock for what felt like the 400th time that day. He desperately wanted you to get your results, he knew for sure that you’d passed but he absolutely hated seeing you this worked up.
Usually, Steven was always the one to be able to help best with your anxieties, compared to Jake and Marc. But today, he felt completely helpless as he watched you continue to pace the same path continuously for hours on end.
“Uh… Love, why don’t you have something to drink, you haven’t had anything all day”, Steven tried to reason with you, his voice trying to be soft and calm and would usually have you crawling into his lap but today, your mind couldn’t even process anything that he said.
Instead, your eyes remained glued to the screen of the laptop that was on the desk between you and Steven, so that he couldn’t see the screen. Your reasoning is that if you failed, you didn’t want him to read the words.
Steven shook his head as you continued to pace, briefly glancing at the mirror as Marc demanded that he make you drink. “I can’t force her to do anything mate” Steven mumbled in reply.
Marc rolled his eyes in announced in the mirror, not that you could see or hear his reply, “You know what Steven, maybe you should force her, it’s been nearly 20 hours since she’s had anything to eat or drink”.
“You do it then mate, I’m not having her hating me when she’s so stressed out-” BING.
Both you and Steven stopped immediately at the recognisable email notification noise. The air in the room suddenly felt thick and heavy as you slowly reached for the laptop, fingers shaking as you were one click away from finding out the much-anticipated results. Steven sat on the edge of the sofa, watching you closely to try and read any sort of expression that would give your results away.
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you finally plucked up the courage to click on that all-important email.
You couldn’t breathe for a second, eyes becoming painful from the length of time that you’d gone without blinking until finally, you whispered, “I did it”.
Steven stood so quick his vision blurred as he shouted, “you did it?”
“I did it!” you screamed, reading the word congratulations over and over on the computer screen, the realisation finally set in as you sprinted around the table and jumped into Steven’s arms, causing you both to topple backwards onto the sofa, your legs straddling his body as he held you to him. Both of you were screaming and shouting with joy, you even briefly felt bad for the neighbours but you also didn’t care as happy tears slipped down your cheeks.
You weren’t sure when but the tears soon turned into sobs, all the years, countless nights not sleeping, the essays and exams had all been worth it for this moment. Steven held you close, catching every tear that escape your eyes, his lips brushing against your forehead.
“Oh my beautiful, smart girl” he praised, lips moving across your face until there wasn’t a patch of skin he hadn’t kissed as he continued to compliment you until finally, you stopped sobbing, instead smiling so much that your cheeks ached, which Steven was reciprocating with proud bright eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” you said in a rush, leaning your forehead against his whilst his hands settled against your waist, thumb rubbing small circles over your clothes.
“I never doubted you for a second, Love” Steven bragged, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek which you swiftly nuzzled into. Your boyfriend kissed your lips once more, twice, three times before you pressed harder, with all the eagerness that you could muster, knuckles aching with how tightly you were holding onto his shirt. His soft lips moved with yours, the taste of toast on the tip of your tongue as it slipped in, caressing his own.
Steven moaned, hands both now cupping the back of your head, keeping you close to him as you both became lost in one another's lips. It was only as your lungs burned for the need of air did you pull away, but only to tug on the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, your hips rolling down onto his crotch, already feeling this thickening cock, only separated from your cunt by a few layers of material.
Leaning forward, you were able to finally free him of the shirt, his warm beautiful skin flexing under your fingers as they danced along the skin, needing to feel every part of him as those wondrous lips of his travelled down your throat, leaving delicate kisses that had your body shivering in response. “My smart girl, my beautiful smart girl” he mumbled, and you mewled with each praise, loving when Steven was so appreciative of you, which he usually was.
It was only as you reached down to undo his jeans were you stopped by his hands enveloping yours, halting your actions. A frown set across your features as Steven sat back on the sofa so you were able to look at his face.
“Sorry Darlin’, Marc he- he keeps shouting at me and it’s only getting worse. I promise we can continue this but I really need you to drink something”.
You sat back against his knees, hands raising to Steven’s cheeks, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as you knew the next words would probably get you in trouble but you didn’t care, Marc was ruining a perfectly good moment. “Well… fuck Marc, I’m busy”.
Steven’s head tipped back as he laughed, his eyes creasing as his hands returned to the back of your head, pulling you forward, “oh I’m sure you’ll be paying for that one later”. His lips moulded with yours once more, both of you moaning at the contact, his scents were filling your senses as you turned your head, causing the kiss to go deeper, his tongue flicking out and dancing with your own.
Steven was very good at distractions so you weren’t expecting for him to flip your position so now you were the one on the sofa, lying down with him hovering over you. It was now your turn to be undressed and he moved with delicate touches, making sure to lightly touch your skin as he removed each article of clothing leaving goosebumps across your body.
In between your legs was throbbing uncontrollably, your panties visibly wet as he pulled them down your legs and discarded them across the room. You needed him, you needed him now.
Reaching up to try and pull him down, you whined as he moved out of your reach, his lips kissing the tips of your fingers as he smiled down at you, “Shh my clever girl, let me take care of you”. You didn’t respond, not sure you could even form a proper word as arousal turned your brain to fuzz. Particularly as you lay there and watched the half-naked Steven move lower, hands now on the back of your thighs pushing up until you were completely exposed to him, the cool air causing your sweet cunt to clench around nothing.
He didn’t break eye contact, as he lowered his face, tongue out until finally, he licked the length of your core, savouring the unique taste that was only you. Both of you moaned deeply, his movements were slow, calculated like they always were. Steven was a passionate lover, more submissive than the other two but that mean that all he wanted to do was pleasure you, never caring if he came, only caring that you were taken care of.
His talented tongue moved up your slit, reaching your throbbing bean, circling it slowly, adding the slightest bit of pressure, making sure to really build up your already heightened arousal. At the same time, his long fingers moved to your entrance, circling it in the same manner as his tongue and slowly, you watched him slip one finger in, your mouth hung open, a constant stream of moans leaving it, only spurring Steven on.
The man didn’t do anything special with his fingers, for now, that was for later, instead, he simply felt the velvety warm walls, stretching you enough to slip in a second finger, rocking them both in and out as a single dark curl fell onto his forehead. Your hand reached out, sliding through his hair, not being rough, you could never be rough with Steven but simply scratching his scalp, silently telling him that he was doing good, perfect in fact.
Steven watched you for a few moments, continuing his slow actions, knowing that he was going to make you cum in the next minute but wanting to have the image of you moaning, glossy-eyed and desperate, engraved into his brain.
Removing his mouth from your centre, he beamed, “I’m so proud of you”. Steven's lips then seal around your clit, sucking it into his mouth whilst at the same time starting to curl his fingers, pumping his hand and the tingling sensation rushed over you before you could fully process his words. Releasing your clit, his tongue swiped across with firm pressure whilst his fingers didn’t stop the movements, Steven became aware that his chin and neck were becoming wet as you squirted over him, eyes rolling back, the hand in his hair moving to the sofa so you didn’t pull out his hair, needing to grip something as your core tightened violently until finally, you came.
Your cunt convulsed around his fingers, your body spasming as Steven’s fingers slowed until eventually, he pulled them out, his tongue licking up every drip of your juices. He smiled down at you, cheeks flushed as he could see the happy smile spread across your face, “I need you, Steven”.
“You can have me Love, but not here, you deserve the bed, not the sofa, come on”, tugging on your hand, he helped you up, chuckling at the slight wobbling of your legs but the distance to the bed wasn’t long and you were soon pushing him into the middle, crawling up until you were straddling his lap. Once again, however, Steven switched your positions, shaking his head as he smiled mischievously down at you. “How ever will I treat my ever so clever girl, passing her degree all by herself”.
“Steven please”, he never usually had you begging like this, that was more Jake's job but Steven couldn’t help himself today, he wanted you to feel amazing. Reaching up, you gripped his hair, pulling his face down so you could hungrily kiss him, tongues clashing together, teeth nipping on lips.
The man hovering over you reached between your bodies, fumbling to undo his jeans with shaky hands, his cock almost painful with how hard he was, he relieved sigh escaped his lips that were still attached to yours as his member was finally freed. You noticed his reaction and instantly reached for him, tossing him off a few times, enjoying the way he bucked his hips with your movements, before angling it towards your entrance, not even giving him time to fully take off the remainder of his clothes.
You both groaned deeply as he finally slide his thick hard cock into your quivering hole, your arousal enough to be a natural lube as he easily filled you inch after inch until finally you were both slotted together.
Sex with Steven was never the same as with Marc or Jake. It was never rushed, aggressive or filled with fancy sex positions. No, it was always sensual, and passionate and he knew your body better than your own but he was always modest about it, simply smiling down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Obviously Marc and Jake thought the same but sex with them was just…different, you loved them all equally especially as they were all so unique.
Your back arched up as Steven started to pull out, his thrusts were long and deep, and his hands were interlocked with your own, held above your head whilst his lips travelled down the length of your throat. Every drag of his hips had you clinging harder to him, as he built up your pleasure until he had to cuming just as hard as the first time, your cunt clenching hard around him that he too came, your name spilt from his lips in desperation, arms wobbling to keep himself up as he stilled within.
After a few moments of trying to catch your breaths, he rolled off of you, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek as both of you smiled at each other like idiots in love. Closing your eyes, you savoured the after-sex glow, listening to each other breath.
“You know… you really do need to eat something Poppet. How about we go to dinner? Celebrate the great news, have a few drinks?”
“I would love that very much, Mr Grant. Let me just have a quick shower”, you lean up to kiss him, standing and doing the awkward run to the bathroom, hands between your legs to stop any of his cum from dripping onto the floor.
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water spill over your body, relaxing your muscles. The reality of passing university brushed over your thoughts again as you did a happy dance in the shower, quickly before washing your body.
You’d become so lost in your happy little thoughts that you didn’t hear the other person enter the bathroom, not until a warm solid body collided with your back. Smiling to yourself, you leaned into the warmth, feeling the already hardening cock against your lower back. “Ready for another round are you, my love?” you asked innocently.
As you made to turn around, a muscular arm circled around your front, gripping your jaw in a strong grip so you were now held firmly in place. Definitely not Steven.
The hand holding your jaw pushed upwards, tipping your head back so that the shower sprayed across your face, lips moved to your ears, tickling and teasing as a low voice murmured, “Fuck Marc? Did I hear you correctly?”
You knew he could feel the pounding of your heart as he held your jaw, his teeth nipping your ear as you rubbed your thighs together, cunt clenching in anticipation, you didn’t date speak. It was always the game of cat and mouse when it came to Marc and your relationship but in the end, Marc always was the winner.
“All you needed to do…was to have one drink of water, just one”. You were hyperaware of every single movement that he made as he raised his spare hand to rest lightly against your naked hip, keeping you close to him.
“Well we were slightly distracted…sir”, you added the name for good measure, not wanting to annoy him any further.
His lips turned up slightly at your words but he didn’t say anything for a few minutes, leaving the anticipation thick in the air until at least, he squeezed your jaw, demanding you open. Immediately you opened your mouth wide, the water from the shower dribbling out and down your chin.
“Drink.”
You drank the water as it poured down from the shower, gulping the water thirstily.
“Good girl”, he whispered, feeling every time you swallowed whilst he continued to hold your jaw. His words sent shivers up your spine, causing it to rub harder against his cock that throbbed against you.
As your gulps started to slow down and Marc was happy with your water intake, he spun you around, pressing your back against the cool tiles, hand still holding onto your jaw, the other now leaning against the wall above you. Reaching down to your height, his back now had the shower beating against it so you weren’t being sprayed anymore.
Slowly, you raised your eyes from the floor, up his body to his dark beautiful eyes. Even though he shared the same body as Steven and Jake, he still looked different, you weren’t sure whether it was the hardening of the gaze in his eyes or the beautiful smirk that he held on his lips but either way, it brought a sly smile to your own mouth, having not seen him for a week.
“I hear congratulations are in order, you beautiful intelligent girl.” Pride and love bloomed in your chest.
“Thank you, sir”. So distracted by his handsome face, you didn’t notice the hand he had used to lean against the wall, slip down until his calloused fingertip started rubbing against your eagerly awaiting clit, causing you to cry out.
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl”.
“Tha-thank you, sir. I couldn’t have done it without you-ah!” Marc had slipped two fingers into your centre, his thumb now rubbing slow methodical circles against your bundle of nerves, your hips began moving with the action instantly. He watched you closely, his eyes devouring your every move.
Marc didn’t quicken his pace as he continued talking, the two fingers within you moving in and out steadily, “Now, I think my baby girl deserves a reward, what do you say?” You could only nod, moaning at his clever hands. “You’ve done so amazingly over these last few years. I want to pleasure you until you can’t walk and then we’ll order some food, no need to leave this place when I’ve got to make you feel good, baby.”
The mere thought of what he had planned had your core tightening, the tingles already spreading down your thighs as you breathed out, “I’m close, sir.”
“You want to cum for daddy?”
“Yes please, daddy”. His fingers moved quicker, bending at the perfect angle as his mouth dropped to suck one of your erect nipples, your hands instantly moving to hold onto his wrist that still held your jaw.
“Then cum for me, baby”. You did. Hard. The wind was knocked out of you as your knees wobbled, nails digging into his skin as your pussy contracted around his fingers.
Releasing your nipple with a pop, Marc moved quickly, turning you around, not giving you time to process what was happening as you found your face pushed against the shower wall. The water then stopped spraying the two of your as he turned it off, pulling your hips backwards leaving you slightly bent over.
Your boyfriend then proceeded to lick your cunt dry, you twitch at the oversensitiveness, automatically moving away from his warm tongue as it lapped over your swollen bud. “Shh, it’s ok Sweetheart”, he kisses both of your arse cheeks, “no more clit play unless you ask”.
Sighing in slight relief, you wiggled your hips as he stood to his full height. Glancing over your shoulder, you moaned, “mmm, want your cock sir”.
“Ok baby girl”, he was penetrating you a second later, your sensitive walls already clenching around him. Having already been fucked by Steven already today, you didn’t need time to adjust and Marc knew that as he started a quick, hard and thorough pace, his hand tugging on your hair so your neck ached at the odd angle, the sounds of your bodies slapping together like music to his ears. “My good girl, my very clever pretty girl”.
You were grunting with each thrust, trying your best to not cum already, it had only been two minutes but you were so sensitive from the previous activities. “I…I already need to cum sir, I don’t think I can hold it, I’m sorry”.
“That’s ok baby, cum for me, that’s it”, your knees buckled as you came, your insides felt like they were on fire as every nerve poured with pleasure, it took you a second to realise that Marc had his arm around your middle stopping you from collapsing to the floor. Easing out of you, he helped you out of the shower after you had found your footing, you stepped out, holding his hand but soon were leaning up to heavily kiss him, realising that you hadn’t even kissed him since he began fronting.
You could feel yourself becoming needier the more feverish the kiss became, enough so that your hand slipped down to grip Marc’s still incredibly hard cock, trying to please him but his hand caught your wrist stopping your movements. Breaking the kiss, Marc looked into your eyes, smirking slightly at your bratty whine.
“Do you want to stop? I need to hear your words?”
“I want you to cum in my pussy, please don’t stop sir” you desperately replied.
Marc didn’t need to be told twice as you found yourself being manhandled by him once more, as he pushed you over the sink, thrusting into your core, pulling on your hair like he had in the shower but now you were faced with the bathroom mirror so you could watch Marc pounded into you.
Leaning over until his lips were next to your ear, with each pound of his hips, Marc praised you, much like how Steven did, about how you were such a smart girl, you’ve done so well, his little university graduate. Your cunt clenched with his words, feeling both fucked out of your mind and proud of yourself at the same moment was hard to comprehend but he made you feel so special. Marc was always a soft dom, he would praise you no matter what, even in your brattiest of moments, but he just loved looking after his baby girl, not like Jake, he liked to handle those moments in different styles, not that you would ever want to be bratty with Jake.
Marc’s other hand which had been holding on to your hips with a fierce grip, moved to your torso, fondling your tits, squeezing the soft flesh, as his lips sucked into the side of your neck lightly. You tried to speak to tell him you were going to cum but the only noises to leave you were heavy moans Marc could tell you were getting close by the fluttering that your cunt was doing around his cock, he had been trying to hold off for a while, seeing you bent over in the shower nearly had him spurting his seed over your back but he held out for as long as he could to see just how much you could handle.
“That’s it, baby, cum with me, well done, good girl”, your core felt impossibly tight as finally, your orgasm rippled through your body. Marc was thankful that you were over the sink, his own orgasm making his knees wobble slightly so that he had to hold onto the side next to your hips to keep himself up as he shouted your name out.
He kissed a line up your back as you tried to catch your breath, his cock slipping out of you followed by his hot seed dripping out and onto the floor. He then spent a few quiet moments cleaning you up, wiping away his cum as softly as he could, apologising every time you flinched before finally asking if you thought you could walk, to which you promptly shook your head no. It didn’t go unnoticed by you the large smirk that he had on his face at hearing that his plan worked.
Your handsome boyfriend eased your body into his arms, your head laying on his shoulder as he supported your legs and back, carrying you back into the main area of the flat and onto the bed, neither of you particularly caring that you were still damp from the shower. Sighing in relief at finally being on a soft surface, Marc wrapped a spare blanket over your cold body, kissing your hairline delicately.
“I’ll be back in a moment sweetheart, I’ll order us some food, my smart girl”.
You must have fallen asleep because, by the time you had woken up, the smell of food was filling the apartment, your stomach making a loud growl at the realisation that food was here. Sitting up in bed, you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, groaning at the ache in your muscle from the evening's activities. The food smelt amazing however so ignoring the pain, you climbed out of bed, keeping the blanket around your naked body and glanced across the room into the kitchen, expecting to see Marc unboxing whatever food he had decided upon ordering but instead, he was hunched over the stove, cooking something.
Frowning you tried to clear the fog in your head to make sense of it. Marc couldn’t cook anything except toast (only on a good day), there was no way he’d be able to cook whatever you were smelling right now, and as for Steven, you’d be lucky to get a plain slide of bread without it being wrong in some kind of way. So it wasn’t Marc and it definitely wasn’t Steven that you were watching cook.
It was an almost immediate reaction, your whole body felt warm and safe. It wasn’t that Marc and Steve didn’t make you feel safe, of course, they did but with Jake, his unhinged personality meant that he would do anything and everything to keep you safe, it was a different type of protection compared to the other two. It was also not very often that you get to see all three alters in one day.
Biting your lip in anticipation, you stepped forward, “Papi?” His head flicked towards you immediately, moving the food off the heat so he could approach you.
His footsteps were heavy as he walked closer, his arms out, ready for your next move which was to drop the blanket and jump into his arms, legs circling his waist and arms holding tightly to his shoulders as his strong arms held onto your naked body.
“Mi Amor” he mumbled against your neck, kissing the skin lightly as he held you close. You hadn’t seen Jake in weeks, particularly with all the stress that you had been through with the ending of university, he hated seeing you anxious. Unless there was someone else to hurt if they had caused the anxiety, he usually stayed away, hating to see love upset, it slowly sends him into an unbalanced state that no one particularly needed to deal with.
“I’ve missed you”, pulling away from his shoulder, you looked into his brown eyes that looked nearly black whenever Jake was fronting.
“I missed you too, cariño,” his voice was deep and laced with his beautiful Spanish accent that made your heart flutter. “My beautiful, intelligent girl”. Your cheeks warmed due to his compliments as he lowered you back to the floor, his hands cupping the sides of your head, tilting your face up to his so he could kiss your forehead tenderly, then lower to your lips. You wanted desperately to whine at the loss of contact but you didn’t want to ruin this calm Jake that you had not seen in a while, recently whenever he had fronted, it would be after a mission with Konshu and he would have a lot of pent up frustration and tension, leading to hours of you begging for him to allow you to cum, so seeing him calm wasn’t something you were used too.
Kissing your forehead one more time, he nodded in the direction of the table that still had your laptop on from earlier with the best email you had ever received. “Go and take a seat, the food is nearly ready, and take this, you’ll catch a cold, mi amor”, Jake then proceeded to remove his shirt, handing the warm material to you. Quickly pulling it over your head, you took a second to openly ogle at his body, even though you knew his body like the back of your hand, it still managed to get you all hot and bothered.
Jake chuckled deeply to himself, a single finger pushed under your chin, lifting your eyes from his chest up to his eyes, “later mi amor, now, go and take a seat”. You did as instructed, trying to ignore the evidence of arousal that was moistening your core, his shirt the only thing covering up the glistening wet that was slowly spreading over your thighs as you took a seat and tried not to move too much otherwise he would hear the squeak of your wet cunt against the leather chair.
He joined you soon after at the table, carrying two plates filled with delicious food that had your mouth watering, Jake was such a fantastic cook. As you moved to pick up a fork, Jake swatted your hand away lightly, “allow me” he demanded softly so you sat, hands clutching the edge of his shirt whilst he fed you.
He was able to feed both you and himself and with every bite you held strong eye contact with him, thanking him for every drop of food that you swallowed until he was scraping his and your plate clean. Pushing them to the other side of the table, he sat back in his chair, legs spread as he looked your head to two, making you squirm at the intense stare.
“Just taking the opportunities whilst I can”. You frowned at his words, not quite understanding what he meant.
“What opportunities?”
“To do things for you, there won't be much opportunity as you won’t need me for much longer now will you.”
The room suddenly felt small and suffocating as your throat closed shut, it felt like your world was crumbling.
“What?” was all you could whisper, barely audible as you tried not to cry, watching as Jake sat forward in his seat, forearms leaning against the table.
“Well now, you’re a big independent girl, you’ve passed your university degree, what else would you need me for, right?” You realised now that he was joking but you still felt on edge. “I mean, my smart Princesa, you’ve done this all by yourself, you won’t need me anymore”.
“I’ll… I’ll always need you Jake”, he gave you a pointed look so you quickly corrected yourself, “Papi, I’ll always need you”.
He didn’t respond immediately, still taking his time looking up and down your body until it looked like he had decided upon something. Lifting to fingers, he bent them, signalling for you to come to him which you did without needing to be told twice. Jake sat back in the chair, opening his arms for you to sit comfortably in his lap but before you fully sat, he twirled with his hand so you turned your back to him, sitting down in his lap, your head leaning back against his shoulder.
“Now I want you to do something for me, look at that right there” he pointed to the seat you were just in. At first, you looked on, confused about what exactly you were supposed to be looking at but then you spotted it and your cheeks burned hot. On the leather seat, the evidence of your juicy cunt hadn’t dried, even though you had tried not to drip onto the seat.
“Did my amigos not take good enough care of you today Princesa?” You were so embarrassed, it wasn’t normal for your body to still be craving someone's touch when you’d already been pounded multiple times and orgasmed multiple times, yet here you were, nipples peaked, clit throbbing uncomfortably, internally begging that he would touch you.
“Well? Did they?”
“The-they did Papi, I just..always want you, I’ve missed you so much-” your words were cut off as his large hand encircled around your throat squeezing slightly. The other hand moved to ease each of your thighs on either side of his so once he spread his legs further, your legs widened, causing the shirt you were wearing to rise, exposing your wet, marginally swollen cunt to him.
Your breathing quickened as you watched his hand move towards the area you wanted him to touch so desperately. Jake noticed your breathing and not wanting to overwhelm you, shifted the hand up your neck until his index finger could slip into your mouth. Almost instantly you were sucking on it, the action helping to distract and calm you, the muscles all over your body relaxing as you melted back into his hard body.
Your body still jolted however as he rubbed two fingers up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal before lifting them in front of both of your faces, displaying it. “See, this would say otherwise” he then lifted the fingers to his mouth, sucking them, moaning at the taste before lowering it, testing to see just how much you could take with him. First, he tried to circle your clit with his finger but you hissed at the touch, almost biting down on his finger in your mouth, before he moved lower to your cunt, pushing in slowly and you could feel how oversensitive your walls were and how you were slightly swollen from the action you’d received earlier as his one finger felt like the same thickness as his cock at that moment.
Jake didn’t say anything at first, simply humming as he removed his digit, once again licking it clean before kissing the side of your head, his favourite way to show that you were safe with him and that he’d look after you.
“Now, how am I going to praise you for doing such incredible work with finishing university if you can hardly even take my finger, mi amor.” You huffed in frustration, the building tension was becoming nearly unbearable, even though it was uncomfortable, the pleasure was slowly starting to outweigh the pain. Sex with Jake was usually quite rough anyway so it was nothing that you hadn’t dealt with before.
“I can take it” you mumbled around his finger, reaching across to his other hand, trying to drag it back to your sopping cunt but he kept it still, not giving in to your demands. Instead, he stood, pulling you up with him, arm around your waist as he walked you to the bed, hand tugging on the shirt you worse until your arms shot up, allowing him to pull it off of you, before pushing on your chest so that you collapsed into the centre of the bed.
Looking up at him, you tried not to show how much he intimate you as he began to take off the remainder of his clothes and then crawled to join you, the evidence of his own excitement standing proud in between his legs until he was lying next to you.
“Turn over” he instructed, which you swiftly followed, lying on your side with your back to him, the warmth of his chest had you nuzzling back as his lips delicately kissed your bare shoulder. “You still think you can take me?” he asked, lifting up your leg and resting it onto of his, the feeling of his cock prodding at your inner thigh had you whimpering for more.
“Yes Papi, I can take it”, his only response to your words were him pinching your nipple harshly, tugging it away from your body and then letting it snap back as he released it. Your hips moved at the sensation, the pleasure once again pooling in your cunt entrance. “Need you…”
“You need me? But I thought you were a smart independent girl who doesn’t need me anymore?” you teased, his teeth now grazing your neck, hard enough that you were sure there would be indents in your skin. You could feel yourself feeling more and more subby as the seconds ticked by, your brain fuzzy with the need to be stimulated and Jake once again just laughed at how desperate you were becoming, he always loved to tease and push you to your limits.
Knowing that you’d start crying soon if he didn’t fuck you, he shifted his hips up, his tip finally pushing into your warm, wet folds, finding your aching hole and penetrating within. The sensation took your breath away, you felt so tight even Jake had to stop for a moment as he slide all the way in, otherwise, he would have cum before it had even begun.
His fingers still played with your nipples but as he started to pull out, he moved to grip your throat, the pressure was welcoming, not enough to fully cut off oxygen completely, but enough that you had to concentrate on how you breathed. Lifting your own hands, you gripped onto his wrist, much as you had with Marc.
This position felt intimate, he felt like he was all over you as he cursed in Spanish, his lips right next to your ear as he pushed his cock back into you, it being slightly easier than the first time. You’d never felt this overstimulated before, the mixture of pain and pleasure was blissful and you were worried that you were already only on the verge of cuming with all of the teasings that he’d done.
His pace was unusually slow, but you were thankful, not wanting to have too much stimulation at once but suddenly he snapped his hips up harshly, his cock fucking straight into your g-spot, your cunt clenching like a vice as the recognisable sensation of tightening in your core already overwhelmed you.
“Wait- wait I’m going to cum Papi, wait-” his thrusts didn’t stop, they were still slow but were harsh and you felt the rumble of his chest on your back as he growled in your ear.
“Then cum, mi Amor, cum my clever Princesa”. Your vision nearly turned blank as you hadn’t expected him to give you permission, it was almost an instant reaction as you came, the throbbing contractions fluttering around his cock as your nails dug into his wrist harshly, unable to mentally process what had even happened for a few seconds.
Jake had stopped moving to give you time to recover, another thing that he never usually did, sensing your confusion, he nipped your ear and murmured, “don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence, I’m only being nice because of how proud I am of you today. Do you need to use your safe words?”
You wanted to shake your head, thinking you couldn’t possibly talk but you knew he would get angry if you didn’t use your words so as he removed his hand from your throat you smiled, mumbling, “green Papi”.
Jake pulled his cock out of you, rolling you onto your front and pulling up your hips until you were on your knees, your face laid out on the bed, you were too lazy to try and push yourself up but this was the exact position that Jake wanted you in as he reached forward, pulling each of your arms until he held them behind your back, your neck now straining for the lack of support but any thought of discomfort flew out of the window as he fucked back into you.
You screamed out, not caring who heard as the bed started to shake against Steven’s book cake, Jake wasn’t holding back now. He grunted with each stroke, your cunt gripping him tightly like a glove as he watched himself disappear inside of you. The grip on your hands allowed him to pull you back onto his cock as you repeatedly moaned out Papi.
After all the pleasure you’d had all day, you didn’t think it was possible for you to cum again, having lost count of how many orgasms you’d even had that day but sure enough, as Jake moved to kneel on one knee behind you, the change in movements causing his cock to tip up the slightest bit, he now was just pounding into your poor sensitive g-spot.
“Ah- Papi, I need…to…cum” you shouted, eyes rolling back at the overwhelming sensations, not even listening to whether you had permission or not as euphoria rushed through every inch of your body once more, your toes curling, small drips of squirt dripping onto the sheets below. Jake pulled out, letting go of your arms and you all but collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, body shaking from the day's events.
“See, this is why I make you wait to cum, you’ll just tire yourself out if I let you cum whenever you want, for a smart girl you really are dumb sometimes.” Jake teased, satisfied with how thoroughly fucked you looked.
Glancing over your shoulder tiredly, you looked at his still-hard cock, then up to his beautiful face. “I still want you to cum in me, Papi.”
Jake bit his lip, contemplating your words, hand brushing down your spine, “you know… any other day I would be already fucking you into the mattress but I think you’ve had enough today”.
You frowned at his words, having never heard him actually say no to fucking you before, usually he would continue until you were crying with being overstimulated or floating in subspace. “But..but I can take it, I promise Papi” you tried to wiggle your arse to show him you were still up for it but your whole body felt like jelly so it didn’t move much. “Please!”
Jake glanced away for a moment like he was thinking through the consequences if he continued to stop until finally, he looked back, gripping your cheeks to show the seriousness of his words. “If you started to feel only pain and no pleasure, you tell me immediately do you understand?” he was using his dom tone of voice, one that you wanted to cower away from but instead you simply responded with a simple “yes”.
“Good. And the next time you cum, it will be the final time, as much as I love feeling your beautiful cunt pulsing around my dick, I already know you’re going to be feeling a bit spacey with the next one so we will be stopping and doing aftercare, whether I’ve cum or not, do you understand mi amor?”
“Yes, Papi.” Swallowing harshly at his seriousness, you also could feel the anticipation for him filling you back up again, even though everything felt overly sensitive, you couldn’t wait, the only issue was that your legs were so weak you could kneel back into position so Jake helped you to lift your hips and slide a pillow beneath you, helping your cunt to arch up but still being comfortable for you.
He straddled your legs, hands clenching your arse cheeks, prying them apart so he could look at your core, whispering about its beauty before finally he inched his veiny thick cock back inside of you. All the energy in your body had disappeared so that you couldn’t even grip the sheets, only instead being able to moan out his name repeatedly, as his hips snapped into yours.
This position also allowed him to hit deeper spots inside your cunt, each movement was like a spark of pure pleasure that had you on a constant high. Jake moaned at the sight beneath him, knowing that he was close, he picked up the pace, knowing it needed to be now or never as your eyebrows bunched together, mouth opening in a silent O, just a few more deep, heavy thrusts and his milky cum was coating your walls, just as you also shivered and clenched around him in orgasm but this one was different.
Through the multitude that you’d had that day, all your energy was burnt so you simply shivered and dribbled into the sheets, Jake even though for a moment you’d passed out but you still responded when he called out your name.
Not that you were aware of it, but Jake moved off of the bed, returning only once he had two wash clothes in his hand, one to clean you up with, which you didn’t even flinch at, whilst the other he simply placed it over your cunt as something to ease the pain and swelling.
Finally, he pulled on some underwear, picked up the discarded blanket from the table and moved back into bed, shifting your dead weight up until he was beneath you, your body lying over his chest as he covered you both with the blanket.
Stroking back the sweaty hair out of your face, Jake kissed your forehead one last time for that night, whispering, “well done my clever girl.”
#moon knight smut#moon knight one shot#moon knight fic#moon knight#steven grant one shot#steven grant smut#steven grant fic#steven grant x reader#marc spector smut#marc spector#marc spector x reader#steven grant#jake lockley smut#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley#mine*#request
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Love Me or Let Me Go / JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Part 1 here
Summary: after confessing to JJ that you had been in love with him for months, your relationship shifted and changed completely. Neither knew how to act anymore, but Pope helped to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: swearing, drinking, angst, sad reader and sad JJ :(, mentions of not eating properly (skipping meals, eating little amounts)
Authors note: part 2 as promised my lovelies, I hope you all enjoy! I decided to shift things and some parts from JJ's point of view also, so I hope everyone likes it 😁 I'm so glad people wanted a part 2 😊.
Word count: 3.7k
It had been two weeks since you confessed your feelings to JJ, and it had been the hardest week of your life. You and JJ had never gone this long without talking, texting, or seeing one another. It was usually no more than two days at most, and by the time you finally did see one another, you'd be inseparable. So to go a whole two weeks without talking or seeing him was absolute hell, he wasn't just the person you were in love with, he was your best friend.
He was the missing piece that made you feel whole, he was literally your soulmate. Since that first day of school when you both met as kids, that was the day you both became one being. You felt like your whole body was numb, fading into nothing. You didn't want to lose him as a friend but you couldn't help the way you felt about him. And you weren't sure you could push those feelings aside any longer.
The first week was spent mostly crying and locked away in your room, the only people you allowed in were the rest of the group. Pope visited the most, almost every day, to check on you. You and Pope had always been close but in these last few weeks, your friendship had grown. And you were thankful for that because without realising it, that was what you needed. Everyone had grown to be concerned about you in these two weeks, even your parents and little sibling had noticed that you weren't yourself.
Everyone quickly put two and two together, realising that JJ wasn't coming around. Your family were used to seeing the blonde headed boy, having him over for dinner quite often and letting him crash on the couch whenever he needed to. So your family quickly understood something had happened but didn't want to pry.
Pope knocked on the door of y/n's house, waiting for someone to answer. Y/n's mother answered with a friendly smile on her face, a sad expression lurking behind. "Oh Pope, come in!" She greeted, ushering the boy in. Closing the door she asked for him to wait a moment, "can you take this up to her? She hasn't eaten today." She asked with a frown. He nodded, "of course! I'll try to knock some sense into her." She nodded gratefully and returned to the kitchen. Pope reached y/n's door, knocking gently. "Who is it?" Pope hardly recognised your voice, it was raspy and filled with sadness. "It's me," Pope announced, walking in once you agreed. He was instantly saddened when he took in your appearance, noticing the barely touched plate of food from that morning. He sighed and made his way over, placing the plate in front of you.
"Come here." Pope held out his arms for you, watching as you immediately crawled towards him. He uncrossed his legs, allowing you to sit between them as he held you. The second his arms wrapped around you, you crumbled. The tears instantly fell, cascading down your cheeks like a waterfall. You sobbed into Pope's chest, gripping the back of his shirt as tight as you could. He hushed you softly, "it's okay, let it out." As he placed his chin lightly on your head. You weren't sure how long you stayed like this, embraced in Pope's arms but neither bothered to move until you felt better.
Pope sat down next to you, sitting with his legs crossed. You were sitting with your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly. Your head lay on the top of your knees, facing him but you weren't looking at him. Pope noticed the glassy tired look in your eyes, they were red and puffy from crying. Pope felt awful that he couldn't take the hurt away or make you feel better. It pained him to see his friend in such pain.
He was pissed at JJ, how could he not see how amazing you were? How could he not want to be with her? No one had ever fully accepted JJ so completely, flaws and all as you had. Not even John B, so how could he hurt the person who loved him the most? Pope just couldn't understand, he felt his heartbreak for you. He could see how much you were struggling without him.
By the second week, you had managed to stop crying as often. Able to mostly keep it together for those around you who were concerned. Kie and Sarah had just left, you had been able to spend the last two hours enjoying the moment without a single thought of JJ. Which was a first, until they had left at least. You made your way downstairs to have dinner with your family for the first time in a week, finally feeling good enough to leave the safety of your bedroom.
Your family looked shocked, not expecting to see you but we're happy nonetheless. Despite not expecting to see you, a place at the table had been set for you, which made you smile. "What can I do to help?" You asked with a small smile, giggling when your mother rushed towards you with open arms.
-
You sat with your family eating your mother's homemade spaghetti bolognese, missing the taste of a full meal. You had lost your appetite all week, not being able to stomach large amounts of food. So you were grateful that you were finally able to eat normally once again. Your younger sister smiled at you, passing you some bread, happy to have you mostly back to normal. You watched as your mother and father chatted about work, playfully making jokes towards one another.
You watched as your father teased your mother lovingly, placing a peck on her pouting lips with a laugh. She giggled, not being able to stay mad at him for long. You sighed silently to yourself, feeling sadness overcome you. But you refused to let it ruin your time with your family, so you simply sat there and ate your food.
JJ sat on the porch of the chateau with a beer in hand, it had been five days since you had confessed your feelings for him. He was struggling not seeing you or talking to you at all, he wasn't used to being without his best friend. You helped to keep him sane and grounded, you always looked after him and never judged him. You were more than he could have asked for in his life and he had just thrown all that away. JJ placed his head in his hands, pulling at his hair in anger.
John B walked outside, leaning against the doorframe and observing his best friend. He felt bad for him, seeing him struggle but he had also seen how bad you were suffering also. He was torn. "Hey man." John B announced his presence to his friend, taking the seat opposite JJ. JJ raised his head to look at his friend, tears in his eyes.
"I fucked up big time, didn't I?" JJ whispered, looking at his friend sadly. John B nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. JJ stood up aggravated with himself and threw his bottle across the grass, watching as it smashed. John B went and stood with his friend, grabbing his shoulder. "How do you feel about her?" John B questioned, wanting to know. Everyone wondered, JJ hadn't told anyone how he'd felt about his best friend.
JJ laughed bitterly, "I've been in love with her for years man." JJ shook his head at himself, annoyed that he didn't answer you back that night. "Dude are you serious?! So then why didn't you say that to her days ago?" John B asked, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. JJ groaned, "because I'm a fucking idiot, okay?! Every time I've tried to tell her I've chickened out because I didn't think she would fall for someone like me, I'm a mess! Hence why we are in this situation." He huffed to himself, giving his best friend a sad look.
The sound of a car alerted the two boys, John B and JJ looked over in the direction of the noise confused. Pope got out of his father's car, slamming the door behind him. "Oh, he's pissed. At me right?" JJ questioned, already knowing the answer. John B shook his head amused, knowing Pope was going to argue with JJ.
"I've just visited y/n, do you know how much you've hurt her?!" Pope yelled, making his way over to the blonde-headed boy. "How is she?" JJ questioned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Pope looked at him dumbfounded, "how is she?! Hmm, let me see. She hasn't stopped crying in days, she's barely eating and she refuses to leave her room. Does that sum up how she's doing?!" Pope was enraged with JJ's typical attitude, at that moment he wanted to punch his friend.
"That's fine! I can manage that, I think." JJ mumbled the last part, more to himself than the other two. Was he able to go any longer without seeing or speaking to you? He wasn't sure. But he supposed he'd have to. All JJ knew was that he needed to get you back and as more than just his best friend this time. "Okay, here's the plan," Pope muttered, pulling the two boys in to discuss what to do.
"Fuck!" JJ yelled, even more, pissed at himself than he was before. He felt like such an arse, he'd broken his best friend's heart. The person he loved more than anything, "I've fucked it up and I don't know to unfuck it!" JJ yelled, pulling at his hair. He didn't know what to do, he was stuck in a difficult position. "Help me, Pope. Help me get her back, i-i need her man." JJ could feel the tears welling in his eyes, clouding his vision. He turned from his friends, wiping his eyes.
He knew he'd fucked up big time but he needed you back, he couldn't imagine his life without you in it permanently. He'd his feelings in for long enough. "Fine, but she needs time to feel better first. You haven't seen how she's been, man." Pope sighed, remembering how broken and defeated you'd looked as he left.
-
Two weeks of not seeing or speaking to JJ had been absolute hell. You had been tempted on many occasions to call or text him. You had sat on your bed multiple times in the last week, pulling out your phone and hovering over JJ's contact. But you would back down last minute, thinking it better not to. You had sat there wondering if he had wanted to contact you as well, you hoped he would have but he never did. Which broke your heart further.
You had managed to pull yourself together mostly, not having cried for a few days. Pope had messaged you that morning asking you to get ready by 7 and to meet him outside your home. You had asked why but he refused to tell you, saying it was a secret. So by 6:30, you had eaten, showered and shaved, and gotten dressed in a tank top and shorts.
By 6:45 you were sitting on your bed anxiously, your knee bouncing up and down in one spot. A nervous habit you had. You were unsure what Pope was up to, your stomach felt knotted for some reason. You decided to go downstairs and let your parents know about the plans, knowing they would be more than happy that you were finally leaving the house.
"Hey, I'm going out for a while, meeting with Pope, Sarah, and Kie. I'll see you guys later." You hugged your family and walked out the door, heading towards the beach to meet the three. Sarah and Kie had rung you last-minute letting you know they would be joining, which was of course okay with you. You were happy to spend time with them, you just hoped JJ wouldn't turn up.
The sun was setting beautifully, a warm yellow-orange glow shining upon you. You spotted your three friends standing together, chatting about something you couldn't hear. "Hey!" You called, reaching the group with a smile. The first genuine happy smile you'd had in two weeks, which the group picked up on. "Hey! You look a lot better, healthy!" Kie commented on your appearance, making you giggle lightly.
"Thanks, Kie." You shook your head amused. Sarah and Pope looked at her annoyed, "really? Healthy?" Pope asked dumbfounded, Kie raised her hands in defence. "Sorry, sorry!" She laughed. "So! What are we doing here exactly? You guys were very vague on the phone?" You smiled, curious as to what you'd all be doing but grateful to be out of the house. The sun felt good on your skin, the light warm breeze nipping at your legs.
"You need to trust us, okay?" Pope smiled, waiting as you frown. You laughed, "no way! Every time I trust you guys I either get shot at, chased, or in trouble with the law!" You shook your hands around, turning away from them. You were grabbed by two pairs of arms, making you grumble unhappy. You frown at the three as you were turned around. "No, no, no. Come on, you trust me don't you?" Pope questioned with a raised eyebrow, he knew you did.
You huffed, "yes I do!" You announced annoyed, but you knew that none of them would put you openly in any danger unless you were all together. "Let's go then!" Sarah called happily, a big smile on her face. You couldn't help but smile in return, there was just something about Sarah Cameron's smile, she won people over effortlessly. Sarah linked arms with you and eyed you secretly, I hope this works, she thought.
They led you down onto the beach, allowing you to remove your sandals. You carried them in your hand, looking around curiously. The beach was empty apart from you guys and the silence allowed you to feel peaceful. They led you down the sand to a secluded corner, large rocks and trees covering the view of the road and pathway. You looked around confused when you noticed a little picnic area set up, blankets covering the sand so you could sit.
There was a bunch of food and drinks poking out the open lid of the basket. Pope, Sarah, and Kie gave you large smiles, positioning you where they wanted you. You turned to face them, your back to the picnic, "what is this guys?" You asked confused, pointing to the area. You noticed them walking away from you quickly, "where the hell are you going? Leaving me alone here! Guys?!" You yelled as they laughed, running away from you.
You watched as John B jumped out from behind the rocks and ran away with the three, "you two John B?! What the fuck guys?" You yelled again, you waved your arms around annoyed. "What is this?" You pointed, turning to look at the picnic, only to be met with a sheepish looking JJ scratching the back of his neck. You groaned annoyed, "traitors!" You yelled at the group who were walking away together.
They turned to look at you, giving you both thumbs up, "good luck!" You knew that was aimed at JJ. You sighed, turning to face JJ fully. You looked at the blonde-headed boy, he wore a button-up white shirt with four buttons undone. He wasn't wearing his usual cap, his hair was messy in a sexy way. He wore a pair of dark grey shorts and his favourite pair of shoes were placed by the picnic. He looked absolutely delicious and tempting, but you refused to show your attraction to the boy.
"Hey," JJ muttered, feeling extremely nervous. You could decide to just walk away, and never want to speak to him again. JJ could feel his palms sweating, his stomach churning nervously. He was terrified of losing you completely, you were his everything. Maybe he had already lost you, the thought made him panic. Oh God, what if I've already lost her? Shit, I'm such a fucking idiot. "JJ?" you called, noticing he looked like his mind was elsewhere.
You raised your eyebrow at the boy, waiting for his explanation. "Shit, sorry. What did you say?" He asked nervously, rubbing the back of his neck? "I asked what all this is for?" You replied, pointing to the picnic. You were nervous beyond belief, not having seen him in a while. The person responsible for your broken heart, but the same person who made you feel so many emotions. You were conflicted on how to feel right now.
"When I first noticed things were different between us, more than just friendship, I was terrified. I got scared, I've never had someone love me in the ways you do. You've never once judged me, you always stood by my side even when I would do some stupid shit." You both laughed at that part, remembering all the times you'd come to his aid, "you've always been my partner in crime, and you've always made sure I was taken care of. You see me for the real me, the me that I haven't shown anyone else, and that scared the shit out of me! So I did what I always do, I ran. I slept with that toroun that night of the party to push you away, I was scared you'd get tired of me and leave me like everyone seems to. And I know it's stupid! But I'm in love with you, I have been since that first day I met you. I'm a fucking idiot for not telling you sooner, but I just couldn't risk losing you." Once he'd finished explaining, you were shocked.
"I asked the gang to help me out, to set this whole thing up. I wanted to do something special as a way of helping me to apologise to you. Just give me like ten minutes to explain, please?" JJ begged, pulling at your heartstrings. He did all this for you, to say sorry. The least you could do was hear him out, so you agreed. JJ led you to the blanket, sitting down near each other.
You were curious as to why JJ did what he did, wondering why he had led you on the way he did. Did he want to hurt you in the end? You were sure not, he cared about you deeply. Surely he didn't intend to hurt you the way he had. You stared at him, giving him your full attention. JJ felt nervous, he had never fully opened up to anyone before. He tended to keep the full truth to himself, he'd never had a serious relationship before or someone that loved him as fully as you do.
You couldn't believe that he had felt the same, for years! You could feel tears prick at your eyes, "why couldn't you have said this two weeks ago? You could have saved us both the heartache." You stressed, a single tear falling. JJ lifted his hand and wiped the tear away, you leaned into his touch. JJ shifted closer, pulling you to fully face him. Your knees were touching, making your stomach do flips.
"Please y/n, give me another chance to fix this. Give me the chance to make it up to you and love you. I need you." He begged, his eyes glossy. You contemplated your options, he was extremely sorry and set up this romantic picnic to apologise. He explained why he did it, although you were a bit pissed that he'd felt this way for years and didn't say anything. An idea popped up in your mind.
You smiled, "only if you tell me why you stormed out of the porch that day at the chateau." JJ instantly knew which day you were talking about, an annoyed expression forming. He groaned, "because we always sit together, so when I saw you all giggly and close to Pope, I got jealous. You two looked like you were getting really close, especially when we went out on the boat." He huffed, seeming to remember the memory in his mind.
You giggled, "you do realise, that me and Pope were bonding over our mutual issue of being in love with people who don't like us back. Well, at least I didn't think you did," you felt amused that JJ had been jealous of you and Pope. JJ looked at you in shock, realisation hitting him. I'm an idiot, he thought to himself. You both laughed together about it. "So does that mean that I get a second chance?" JJ asked, giving you a hopeful look. You bit your lip and nodded, "yes, you get a second chance." JJ happily pulled you into a hug, squeezing you gently. You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. JJ's head relaxed into the crook of your neck, "God I missed you." He whispered, his arms tightening their grip on you.
Taglist: @totallynotkaibiased @sillyfreakfanparty @hiwhatsupbruv
You smiled into his shoulder, "I missed you too." You whispered, feeling JJ pull back. You looked into one another's eyes, he flicked between your lips and eyes. You both began leaning in until your lips touched. You were both apprehensive, being gentle and slow. Your lips moved perfectly in sync, picking up in speed quickly. JJ grabbed both sides of your face, your hand grabbing the back of his neck. You grabbed the hair on the back of his neck, pulling slightly, a groan leaving JJ. He grabbed your hips, pulling you to straddle his waist.
The kiss quickly became heated, "woooh! Finally!" You heard from afar, you both turned to look at your friends a distance away cheering you on. You and JJ laughed at your friends, shaking your heads. "Shall we enjoy this picnic?" JJ questioned, a big smile on his face. You smiled in return, "yes definitely." You nodded, looking at all the food and drinks he brought, all your favourites. "I love you y/n," JJ confessed with a smile, staring at you with such love and emotion. You felt your heart soar with happiness, "I love you too JJ Maybank, more than you'll know." JJ pulled you in once again with a passionate kiss.
#y/n#angst#fluff#obx imagine#obx#jj x reader#jj maybank#pope hayward#outer banks#john b routledge#sarah cameron#kiara carrera#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank x reader#sad jj maybank#sad reader
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Whenever you get to season 4 of b/sd, I would literally kill for a prompt involving numbers 47, 32, and 34 for mushitarou/ango pairing.
(as usual, thank you for the ask!!) I have gotten there, and OH BOY was I excited to fill this one hehehe~~
I will caution, I've only watched it once, and that was yesterday, so I'm not certain I have their voices/dynamics down perfectly, but I gave it a shot!! Hopefully you'll still be able to enjoy it <3
3.1k words (oops- haha~) prompts 47, 32, and 34, story under cut!
32. “Are you sick?”
34. “I don’t care if you’re sick. I’m not leaving.”
47. Hiding sneezes
(References to swearing, a bit of severe coughing, and implications of contagion [minimal but there], just in case anyone doesn't like any of those!)
~~~~~~~
Ango had called the meeting a few days ago, and Mushitarou had agreed. There was no reason not to, he knew Ango wanted to discuss plans with him, and he had ideas to share. There was no reason not to… until it was too late. He woke up an hour before he had to leave with a miserable cold that had, as usual for him, chosen the worst possible moment to announce itself.
This is how he finds himself standing just down the hall from Ango’s office, having ducked into an empty room. Mushitarou pushes the door shut behind him, bringing a hand up to scrub at his irritated nose. ‘Of course today of all days I get sick. It would never be on a day when I have nothing to do, no no, it has to be when I have a meeting. And a meeting with him of all people.’
“gehhHh-! Damn it!”
His hand swipes at his nose again, letting his eyes unfocus as he stares up at the ceiling. ‘Come on… just come out so I can go in, I don’t want to be late. He’s gonna be so mad if I’m late… I can’t embarrass myself like that, I want him to thin- to know I’m a professional.’ The tickle dances along his sinuses, tormenting him as it crawls at a steadily slow pace.
Sneezes for him always seem to take forever to build, but once they do, they release in a dramatic fit he’s never been able to control. Which is why he’s standing in an empty office waiting for his nose to have a bit of relief while he still has a touch of privacy.
“huHhh…. hihh… hiH-! F- finally- kATSHh’diew-! hEhh-! C- come on… hAhh-! heH- AITCH’iue-! hADTchhew-! hh- dATZshhiew-! haiZSHh’diew-! hehh- eh’kAShhew-!”
The fit finally over, ‘For now…’ he opens the door, giving his nose one final squeeze as he knocks on Ango’s office, collecting himself with a quick hand through his hair as the voice sounds from inside.
“It’s unlocked, Mushitarou.”
“It’s still eerie how you do that, Ango.”
“It’s quite simple, really. You’re my only appointment today, and you’re exactly on time. Wasn’t hard to figure out who it must be.”
Ango’s eyes are hidden as his glasses tilt up, the light catching them at an angle he seems able to find anywhere. He gestures to a chair across the desk from him, Mushitarou taking a seat with a tight nod, hand raising to brush his throat before he can process the movement.
‘I’m blown! He had to have seen that, he knows I’m sick now and he’s gonna kick me out and yell at me for coming in anyways and-!’ He casts a nervous glance at Ango, but the lack of reaction calms his mind immediately. ‘Hah! I’m a master of disguise. He can’t notice anything wrong, such a trained member of the government and I’ve completely fooled him!’
“If at all possible, may we save the pleasantries for after? I think it best we get right down to business. There’s much to discuss, after all.”
“Sounds exce- hH- excellent to me.”
“Everything alright, Mushitarou?”
“Y- yes. Of course it is! Why would anything be wrong?”
Mushitarou pauses, arms still extended upwards as he surveys Ango’s face for any expression that indicates he’s been caught. None comes, Ango simply pushing his glasses up, and continuing on. Try as he might, Mushitarou can’t seem to focus on what’s being said. Instead, his attention is drawn back to his rapidly increasing symptoms as a cough starts to bubble up in his chest.
“-and so I don’t want to use our abilities, if at all possible. I’d rather not give the enemy a chance to fool us with manipulative tactics or frame us as criminals. Instead, if we- are you listening?”
“Wh-hh-at?”
“To the briefing. Are you listening?”
“Yeah, yeah. Something about abilities, something about manipulation. We still haven’t gotten to the part where you ask me for my help. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? If yo-heh-! you don’t need abilities, what skill exactly are you asking of m- hAh- me? If you want detective work, shouldn’t you go to Poe, or Ranpo?”
‘Shit- this is bad, this is really bad. I don’t think I can hold it off much longer. Why did I come in!? I should be at home dying in peace instead of sitting here trying to assist on a pointless case! But... he asked me to come...’ Mushitarou’s thoughts swell, his fingers flexing against his side as he fights the urge to scrub at his nose again.
“I don’t want just any detective work, I want you. My need isn’t for someone who can just solve a crime, I need someone with cunning. Someone like you.”
“W- well, then I suppose I’ll cooperate. C- geH-! could be fun, after ahhll.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. This is a job, I’ll expect you to do your best.”
“I’m offended at the suggestion! I always give my best. You would do well to remember that.”
Ango offers a vague expression, before continuing with the briefing. Mushitarou’s focus once again pulled to the itch crawling through his nose, building in intensity as the seconds seem to drag on. ‘I- I need to sneeze… I ca- hehh- can’t keep this up… m- maybe I can stifle them, but first I n- eH! Need a distraction… so I can pr- heH! practice…’
“D- hehh! Do you happen to hhahhave any tea? If we’re going to be wo- work… haH-! Working together, I’ll require a certain level of amenities to be provided.”
“Very well. The supplies to prepare tea are in the other room, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get something started.”
“Thhhank you.”
The second Ango’s footsteps start to fade, Mushitarou brings the back of his hand up to his nose once more. The damp feeling as he rubs it nearly sends him over the edge, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.
“O- okay… let’s see i- hehh… if I ca- can… heHh-! hH’ANGZShhiew-! D- damn it… hhaah… okay another try…. eH’DNNGA’shhiew-!”
His nose trembles at the attempts, fingers pinching it shut as he tries to keep the attack at bay. Another hitch brings his eyes crashing shut, tears starting to flow down his cheeks at the force of the itch.
“hh’GNZSHHh’diew-! Closer, I think… A- another’s coming… hehh’INDGT’chuh-! Oh, I did it! B- but oh s- shit… it tihhhckles…!”
Mushitarou’s eyes dart back to the door as Ango’s footsteps start to draw near. ‘Damn it… I st- still have… have to…. hehh! I did manage to st- heH! Stifle but it… ihhht…. Made the tickle so much wo- worse…. hahH!’ The door creaks open as Ango steps inside, tray of tea in his arms. Attempting nonchalance, Mushitarou reluctantly lets his hands fall back to his side.
“I went with Sencha, I hope that’s alright.”
“Y- guh… heHh-! Yes, that’s f- fine.”
“Are you alri-”
“huH’GNT’chh-! eH’KGNDT-!”
“Oh, I se-”
“hh’DNXT’shh-! hahh-! Ihh…. hh- eh’dNZEShh’diew-! hAhh… I- I can’t… I ne- heHhh-! Need to- haH’AITCH’diew-! hah’AIZSHh’ieew-! E- excuse me.”
“Blessings. Sorry- that’s a habit I picked up from Dazai. Haven’t been able to shake it.”
“Quite alright…”
A slight flush starts to fight its way onto Mushitarou’s face, so he reaches for the tea to distract himself. ‘I had wanted to suppress them entirely but I underestimated how much it would increase the itch. I’ll be prepared next time.’ Taking a sip he allows the warm liquid to soothe his aching throat.
“Shall we get back to business? I mean, if you’re-”
“I’m fine. Yes, we should. You were telling me what you require me to do?”
“Correct. The first step is-”
Setting Ango’s voice to background noise, Mushitarou attempts to keep his breathing even. The tea had felt wonderful against his throat, however the steam had spread down into his chest, sparking the cough he’d been hoping to avoid. ‘A few sneezes can be overlooked, but if I start coughing he’s gonna figure me out for sure!’
Unfortunately the choice is made for him, a hitch catching on his breath as his nose decides to get back in on the action. He’s able to hold the sneeze off, but the sudden breath triggers the bout of coughing. Leaning into his arm, he barely manages to set his tea down in time, Ango pausing his planning to offer a concerned glance.
“Oh- are you alright?”
Mushitarou attempts to respond, but each word gets cut off by another cough spilling out. After what feels like hours, but was most likely just a minute or so, he manages to get control back over his spasming lungs. ‘Rotten body, betraying me like this, and in front of… him… of all people!’
“The tea simply went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.”
“If you say so.”
“I do! S- say so, I mean. I do say so. Yes.”
A ghost of a smile flickers across Ango’s face before his stern expression studies once more. Mushitarou takes the opportunity to bring the cup of tea back to his throat, letting his hand brush against his nose in a desperate attempt to alleviate the growing tickle.
“So let’s get down to the heart of the matter. I need you to prove that our agent is being framed. I hesitate to go to Ranpo for a variety of reasons. However, all you need to know is I would prefer you, should you be available.”
“I d- do believe I am. Though, we should di- heHh… discuss compensation.”
“Of course. What do you have in mind?”
“Well. My services are quite v- valuable… hAHh… E- excuse me I fear- f- fear I… heHh-! I may... hh’gNXDT-! heHh- eh’dNTZ’diew-! hAH-! hh- guh’AITZShh’diew-! eNGTSHhew-!”
“Blessings.”
“hhH- AiTCHH’iew-! eZShhjuu-! heh’dATCHh’diew-!”
“And again.”
His hand still pressed against his nose, Mushitarou risks a sniffle, paling slightly at the wet quality of it. ‘Gotta be careful not to irritate my sinuses further. I can’t risk another fit, he’ll definitely be onto me after three. B- but… it already tickles again… Curse this insatiable itch!’ With a wave of his hand, Mushitarou attempts to continue the previous conversation, guiding the topic away from the attack.
“Thank you. As I was saying, my services are quite valuable. I am uniquely situated to provide them, no one else matches my intellectual ability in this area.”
“Are you sick, Mushitarou?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question, really. Are you ill?”
“No! Of course I’m not sick. You really think I’d fall prey to such things as illness?! I’m a master of my craft, a detective slayer, I’m not taken down by such… such weaknesses!”
Ango’s expression darkens, Mushitarou feeling the colour drain from his face at the sight. Sweat starts to form at his brow, not entirely from the fever he’s finding harder to ignore with each passing moment. ‘He’s angry… he’s seen through me… Damn it, how could I be so stupid? Of course he wouldn’t fall for my lies, he’s always known how to see through-’
“Who said that it was weak.”
“H- huh?”
“You said you weren’t taken down by such ‘weaknesses’. It’s an interesting word to use, ‘weakness’. I don’t think it came from you. So I’ll ask again, who told you that it was weak to be sick?”
“Why does it matter?”
Mushitarou’s voice is quieter, the hoarse nature starting to seep into his speech. His eyes have dulled with fever, a cough starting to pour from his mouth as Ango’s face twists into a grimace. ‘I guess my cover’s blown, no point in hiding the symptoms now. I’ve already failed.’
“Because you matter.”
The statement freezes him in his tracks, Ango’s office snapping back into focus as his eyes widen. The cough continues to burst from his lungs as they relentlessly try to free themselves from the irritation. Before he can gather what’s happening, Ango’s hand is rubbing short circles on his back.
“I- I hhhaahh… Have to-”
“It’s alright, Mushitarou. Go ahead.”
“heHh-! eh’GNXT-!”
“You’re only going to hurt yourself doing that.”
“hAH’INDT’diew-!”
“On top of that, it only seems to make you sneeze more. That can’t be helpful.”
Mushitarou only manages a slight nod before the itch swells once more, little gasps dropping from his lips as it torments him. Before he knows what’s happening, something soft is pressed into his hands. He manages to pry open his eyes long enough to recognize the tissues, bringing them to his nose as another gasp breaks through.
“hih- enZSHHH’diew-! hah’AITZdjuu-! hehh… hiHH-! ih’hADTSHh’iew-! iNSHHEW-! dAZSHH’kiew-!”
“Blessings.”
Before he can process all that’s just happened, Mushitarou feels a touch against his face, jumping at the contact. He quickly calms down though, a cool sensation rushing through his head. With a moan falling from his lips, he leans into the touch. It takes him a beat to process that Ango’s hand is currently pressed to his forehead. Once he does, however, he finds his eyes scanning over to the man, noticing the concern flash across his face.
“Quite the fever you have there for someone who’s ‘not sick’.”
“I… uh…”
“You lied to me.”
Their eyes never part, Ango’s expression calm yet stern, causing a pain to start to flood through Mushitarou’s heart. ‘I messed up… he knows… and worse, he knows I lied to him… why did I lie to him…’ Tears pool in his eyes, Mushitarou frantically attempting to blink them away, a nervous fluttering beginning in his chest. The same nervousness is mirrored through Ango’s eyes as he watches, hand never leaving the ill man’s back.
“P- please don’t go…”
It’s strangled, and leaves Mushitarou coughing, ducking into his lap with the rattling noises. As one particularly rough batch leaves him unable to catch his breath, he kneels on the floor, head nearly touching the ground in an attempt to suck in some air. A firm hand grips his arm, another lightly tapping his back through the fit, until finally he manages to get in a solid breath.
Mushitarou manages to lift his gaze back to Ango, noticing the way he tilts his glasses so the worry in his eyes is plain to see. Ango’s hand continues running circles across his back, despite the coughing having ended.
“I don’t care if you’re sick, I’m not leaving. Okay? I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re…”
“Not leaving.”
Tears start to fall down Mushitarou’s cheeks once more, this time having nothing to do with his illness. ‘Ango’s all I have. I never thought I’d have anyone… not again… not after… I just- I just thought I didn’t have anyone. But I have him… he’s all I have. I have him, and… he’s not leaving me.’ The strong hands grip his arms once more, Ango helping him to his feet, then pointing him towards the corner of the room.
“There’s a couch in here, please help yourself to it. It’s not much, but you’ll be able to rest while I prepare for us to return home. I just need to grab a few documents to work on.”
“H- home..?”
“Yes. I’m taking you home with me. I can properly care for you there in ways I couldn’t if you went back to your own place or we stayed here.”
“hEhh-! aITZSHh’diew-! ehh… hih- eh’dATCHH’iew-! enGZSHJ’uu-! huhh… heehhh- hH’kETchh’diew-!”
“Blessings.”
Sinking into the couch, Mushitarou finds his hand still gripping Ango’s arm. ‘He’s not leaving me. He won’t leave,’ repeats in his mind, playing on a loop as Ango lets his fingers brush against his forehead once more.
“I need to grab some paperwork, but I’ll come back. I’ll be right over there at the desk, you’ll be able to see me the whole time.”
A small smile crosses Ango’s face, a warmth that Mushitarou decides suits him perfectly. ‘He doesn’t smile enough… he should smile more. That kindness… it fits his heart. He should wear it more often.’ Ango gently pulls out of his grasp, grabbing the files, careful to stay in his line of sight like promised. Once Ango’s gathered what he needs, Mushitarou finds himself being gently helped to his feet.
“I care about you a great deal, Mushitarou. I won’t leave you alone. Especially not when you’re ill.”
Letting himself lean into Ango’s embrace, Mushitarou replays the words in his mind again.
‘I’m not leaving you. I won’t leave you alone.’
~~~ Time Jump: 5 Days ~~~
“nGT’chh-! eh’NXT-! gehNDT’choo-!”
“I’m so sorry Ango, I didn’t mean to get you sick-”
“dNT’chh-! heh’inGT’shh-!”
“I mean- I did tell you I was contagious, and you did make me stay over anywa-”
Ango glances up at him from underneath the pile of tissues, eyebrow raising behind his glasses.
“Make you? eh’GNT’choo-!”
Mushitarou blushes, waving his hands in the air as he attempts to continue his sentence.
“Anyways-! My point is, it’s really it’s not my fau-”
“Mushitarou. It’s alright. hH’KNGt-! Excuse me. I knew the risks when I signed on to take care of you.”
“Well, now it’s my turn to take care of you! Oh- I know! I’ll make you some tea and soup!”
A smile slips over Ango’s features, quickly replaced by a grimace as he recalls the last ‘food’ Mushitarou had attempted to make. Nearly burning down the entire building. With a pot of rice.
“I don’t know if I trust your cooking enough for that…”
Huffing, Mushitarou starts to retort, stopping himself as Ango turns away to lightly sniffle. Mushitarou watches as his nose twitches a few times before he switches from sniffling to rubbing the tip. After about a minute of this, a frantic look flashes across his face as he grabs a tissue and holds it against his nose, eyes unfocused.
“Are you gonna sn-”
“hH’INGT’choo-! ah’gnT’choo-! dnXT’choo-!”
“Bless you.”
“Western blessings?”
“I- I picked it up somewhere and it just stuck. Same as you I guess. D- do you mind..?”
A faint blush creeps it’s way against Ango’s cheeks as he buries his nose back into the tissue for a blow, before tilting his glasses at that perfect angle so Mushitarou can no longer see his eyes.
“N- no. It’s quite alright. eH’KNT’choo-! eNXT’choo-!”
“Well then, bless you again, Ango~.”
“Thank you, Mushitarou. hH’iNGT’choo-! ndGT’choo-!”
They share a smile as another box of tissues is handed over, Mushtarou heading off to the kitchen to attempt some tea as Ango remains on the bed. Neither of them know what this is, or what it could be. Nor do they know what they want it to be. But they do know one thing:
They’re not leaving the other alone.
#waterfallasks#waterfallwrites#thank you for ALL the amazing asks poni!!#you are simply the best i hope you know that~~#hopefully anyone who reads this enjoys#i had a great time writing these guys#ive only just met m/ushi but i ADORE him- and ive had love for a/ngo for awhile#this has got me deeply wanting to write more a/ngo content hahaha~~ miiiight just give into the urge- we'll see~~#but anyways thank you for the request and i hope its enjoyable for you!!#b/sd#a/ngo#m/ushitarou#snz#snzkink
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#my dad is the worst fucking person ive ever met .#i have a terrifying fear of bugs#particularly palmetto bugs which r bery common in florida#and in the last four days#ive had two of them in my room#today he literally watched one crawl into my room and announced that it was going in here :)#and when i started panicking about it#he just fucking laughed at me and told me to get over it#okay mister im afraid of rats.#yr afraid of remy the fucking rat and im afraid of smth that is actually gross#how much of a fucjing jackass do u have to be to watch ur daughter start having a mental breakdown#fully screaming and crying and jumping around#just to laugh at them .#okay#anyways. im gonna go read abt mark lee breaking my back. have a good night yall.#rosie rambles
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Stream Stresses-SBI Au
This is a Brother!Technoblade, Brother!Wilbur, Brother!Tommyinnit, and Father!Philza x gn!reader in the SBI inc Au. I hope that this is written how the anon that requested it wants it, but I’m not sure. So basically, the SBI is a real family dynamic, the thing is that all of Philza’s children, Y/N, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are all well known streamers and everybody’s fans know this and love the family dynamic that you four have, because you’re literally family. So yeah. Here you go, I hope you enjoy.
Check out my masterlist here!
When Y/N makes fun of their brother, chat jumps to his defense by saying some not so nice things about Y/N. The mean things cause Y/N to shut down their stream with tears in their eyes, worrying their father, Philza.
Y/N’s POV
“Hello chat!” I exclaimed, adjusting my headphones as people slowly began to flood the chat, “How are we today?” A variety of responses flew through my chat before my question was returned to me. “How am I today? I’m doing good! Thank you for asking!” My eyes scanned my notification and I couldn’t help but smile at the subs and donos rolling through. I quickly thank everyone by name before clapping, “Okay chat, today we are going to be playing Minecraft. But we’re not going to play on the SBI server, no we’re going to attempt speedrunning!” I explained. I eagerly watched my chat explode in support, a lot of ‘POGS’ flying by my eyes. “Well let’s get started, shall we?”
I quickly opened my Minecraft and adjusted my stream so that my viewers could see what I was doing. “What should we name the first world? Yes we’re naming them, what monster does not name their speedrun worlds?” Random names flew through the chat, until one caught my eyes. “Tommy! We’ll name this one Tommy so when it let’s me down it won’t be anything new!” I cheered, typing the name into the world box, giggling to myself. For the most part the chat found it funny, but I did see some people say some mean stuff for making fun of my brother.
I quickly cleared my throat and shook it off, “Here we go chat!” I exclaimed before loading in the world. I spawn in an acacia biome next to a desert, “So far Tommy’s treating us pretty good huh?” I joked, rushing over to a tree and punching it. I gained a bunch of wood and then began running through the desert in search of a village. I found one rather quickly and began my raid. I got everything from the chests and then found the iron golem and hit it to get it to chase me so I could build up and kill it… Only problem is I wasn’t quick enough.
I let out screech as the iron golem flung me up in the air, dealing a crazy amount of damage to the point where when I landed, I died. I gave a quick huff and pout as I exited out of the world. “Okay… What did I say, should have been expected to be let down by Tommy!” I exclaimed, my eyes scanning the chat. A few people laughed, but a lot of them were calling me horrible. They were saying that I shouldn’t blame my inability to play the game on my brother. It caused a pain to strike in my heart, because that’s not what I was doing at all. Really mean names began flying through my chat causing me to clear my throat and look away. “Um… Let’s try again,” I mumbled, creating a new world.
“We’re just going to keep going down the list” I announced, trying to bring my energy back up as I typed the name “Wilbur” into the world box before hitting ‘create world’ and loading in. I let my eyes dance back to chat that seemed to go back to normal, but there were still some really mean people in chat. This time I spawned in a plains biome next to a village. I got pretty far this time. I made it all the way to the nether, even found a fortress, but my excitement about it died pretty quickly… because I did too.
“NOOO!” I shouted at the ‘You Died’ screen. “I didn’t even see that blaze there! Damn it Wilbur!” I exclaimed, exciting out of the world once more. My eyes looked over to chat again, praying that the haters had gotten bored and left… My prayers were not answered. Instead, there were probably the most amount of haters I’d ever seen in my chat before. Every message was filled with hate. Telling me that I wasn’t good enough, that I should just quit, that my brothers were so much better than I was and there was no reason for me to even continue. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes and began streaming down my cheeks.
“Ummm… Thanks for coming. I’m going to end stream now,” I sniffed, closing Minecraft and going to my streaming settings. “Bye,” I whimpered out before ending the stream. I sat there frozen for a minute before breaking down into sob. Why do they hate me?
*POV Switch*
Philza’s POV
A grin crossed my face as my phone lit up with a twitch notification. I quickly shifted my attention to my phone screen to figure out which child it was that was going live. It was Y/N! I quickly set up my phone in such a way that I could ‘watch’ their stream while I made dinner for everyone. “Hello chat!” I heard them exclaim, “How are we today!”
It really warmed my heart to watch my children stream. All four of them had worked extremely hard to get where they are today. I did everything I could to understand the Twitch community so I could support my children as they achieved their dreams. Sure it was hard at times, me trying to keep up with everything in all their streams but also when they’re all streaming at the same time and just screaming at each other, but we make it work.
My focus turned to the food that I was making. Footsteps entered the kitchen pulling my attention away from the stream, “Hey Dadza,” Techno’s monotone voice greeted me from behind. “Hello Techno,” I greeted back, throwing him a smile over my shoulder. “Is Y/N streaming?” Techno asked, walking to the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing a water bottle. I nodded my head at the question. “Yeah, they’re speed running,” I responded, turning my head back to the veggies I was cutting for dinner. Techno let out a hum before turning his attention to my phone.
As I cooked, I could hear Techno let out small laughs at what they’re sibling was saying on their stream. Twentyish minutes had gone by before Techno spoke actual words, “What the fuck,” He muttered, getting closer to my phone. “Language… What’s going on?” I asked, still focused on making dinner. “Y/N is crying,” He explained. My head snapped to my phone and sure enough, tears were streaming down their face. “Bye” they croaked out before the stream just ended. Not wasting any more time, I grabbed my phone and I ran out of the kitchen and toward Y/N’s room.
As I grew closer, I could hear sobs coming from their room causing my heart to sink in my chest. I gave a quick knock on the door before barreling in. Y/N was still sitting in their gaming chair, hunched over into themselves, their hands muffiling the sobs falling from their lips. “Oh honey,” I whispered, closing the door behind me. Y/N’s head shot up and their red rimmed eyes met mine. Another loud sob broke from their mouth causing my heart to hurt even more. I took a few quick steps forward to get to them and offer them comfort. Y/N rose from their gaming chair and fell into my open arms. I quickly wrapped my arms around them in a tight hug. “I’ve got you honey,” I murmured, “I’ve got you.”
At some point, I slowly made my way to their bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard, pulling them to sit across my lap, burying their face in my chest like all those years ago when they were a lot younger. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the afternoons that they and their brothers would go outside to play and ride bikes and they would come back in with scraped and bloodied knees and palms. I would pull them into my lap, dry their tears, and help them calm down. It’s a bittersweet memory. It feels nice to think back, but under these circumstances? Not so much.
Slowly but surely, Y/N’s sobs died down into simple sniffles before stopping all together. “You okay?” I questioned softly, leaning back ever so slightly so I could meet my child’s eyes. Their puffy ears peered up as they slowly nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be okay,” they muttered out resting their head back on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked carefully, not wanting to upset them again. A soft sigh left Y/N’s mouth, “I suppose I should. It’s best not to bottle it up,” they thought aloud causing me to smile just a little bit. A small bit of pride welled up inside me of how grown up they sounded.
The smile quickly faded from my lips as my child explained what had happened on their stream. How chat had turned on them and the mean things that they said. I could feel my blood begin to boil. I was extremely pissed at not only chat, but at the mods for not stopping it. But I had to remain calm on the outside, for Y/N’s sake.
“I’m so sorry that happened honey. You don’t deserve that. Nothing they said is true okay? You work so hard and it shows because you’re so good at what you do. Your brothers are good at what they do too. You guys are on equal playing feels and are all exceptional streamers. You deserve all good things honey. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to mod. You’re never streaming without me modding again. Do you understand me?” I rambled, staring at my child curled in my lap. A small giggle sounded in the air causing me to relax ever so slightly. “Yeah. I understand you dad… Thank you.”
Before I could respond, there was a small knock on the door. “Come in,” Y/N called, staring curiously at the door. It swung open and there stood my three other children peering nervously into the room. After standing in the doorway in an awkward silence for a moment, Tommy lets out a loud scoff before pushing his way into the room and crawls up on the best next to us. Tommy then surprises me by wrapping his arms around his sibling and gives them a tight squeeze, “You’re a good streamer Y/N,” I heard him mumble in his sibling's ear. “Chat can be just a little stupid sometimes.” Another giggle passes through their lips as Y/N slides off of my lap and sits in between Tommy and I. “Thanks Tommy,” they whisper back, turning their body to properly hug their brother back.
The closing of the door pulled my attention away from my youngest two. Wilbur and Techno were now also completely in the room and were heading toward the bed as well. I moved over so that one of them could sit in between Y/N and I and the other could go sit next to Tommy. Wilbur took the place beside me, sending Techno over by Tommy. Not saying anything, Wilbur turned his body and reached over and wrapped his long arms around Y/N and Tommy, trapping them in their own hug. For the first time ever, neither of them complained. Neither told him to get off, simply just accepted the affection from their brother.
And to my surprise and delight, Techno leaned onto Tommy and wrapped his arms around the two as well, his arms only able to wrap around Y/N. The four didn’t say anything as they laid in the cuddle pile. I couldn’t stop the tears that formed in my eyes. They hadn’t done this in years. Before Wilbur and Techno hit their teen years, the four of them would cuddle in piles like this all the time. When I couldn’t find any of them, I would only have to find one to find all of them. But once the teen years began, the two eldest felt that they were too cool to cuddle with their siblings and the piles came to a stop. It warms my heart to see them do this, even if it’s under really shitty circumstances.
One by one, their breathing evened out. One by one, they fell asleep. Once I was sure all were asleep, I slowly and carefully got off of the bed and managed to do so without waking any of them. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, made sure the ringer and flash were off, before snapping many photos. I didn’t plan on sharing them with everyone, they were just for me to have and to hold. Maybe I’ll print one and put it in my office.
I carefully slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me before heading back to the kitchen. The kitchen was exactly how I left it when I fled to Y/N’s room after seeing them cry. As quietly as I could, I put everything away. I decided I was no longer in a mood to cook. Besides, on days like today, I think Y/N deserves to have their favorite carry out… Don’t you?
I don’t know if I liked how this one turned out, so let me know what you think! Leave a like if you did enjoy it and maybe even reply or reblog or even send me an ask telling me what you thought!!
#mcyt#mcyt imagine#mcyt one shot#mcyt x reader#sbi#sbi au#philza#technoblade#wilbur soot#tommyinnit#philza imagine#technoblade imagine#wilbur soot imagine#tommyinnit imagine#platonic#technoblade one shot#philza one shot#wilbur soot one shot#tommyinnit one shot#gender neutral#stream stresses#ray-ray-writing#requested#sbi au imagine#sbi imagine#brother!technoblade#brother!wilbur soot#brother!tommyinnit#father!philza
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Morning Challenge
Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut, Language.
Word Count: 1,682
A/N: This is the second time I’ve reposted this. I cannot get the format right lolz.
“Do you need a hand, baby?”
“Five more minutes?” You begged.
“Baby, I’ve got to go.” Remus replied.
“Please?” You pressed on.
“I can’t, sweetheart.”
He looked down at your pouting face, his heart melting at the way your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly as you looked back at him through pleading eyes. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 or so. Remus usually didn’t get his day started until around 7:30, but today he had some things he wanted to get a head start on.
And you weren’t happy about it.
“Remus,” You whined; “I want you to stay.”
You refused to let him out of your death cling, which consisted of you wrapping yourself around him in a way that meant he’d have to quite literally peel you off of him. He had to admit, you were making it awfully hard to get up and go to work.
“You have work too, you know.” Remus pointed out.
“Never this early. The sun hasn’t even come up yet.” You argued back, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
“It’ll start to in a few minutes.” He announced.
You grumbled, your fingers dancing along his exposed core.
“Can’t you put your grading off for at least today? Isn’t a weekend called a weekend for a reason?” You questioned.
A chuckle escaped his chest, as he peppered kisses along your neck.
“Yeah, something like that,” Remus answered; “I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to take a free Saturday.”
“Today’s a special occasion.” You claimed, shifting a little under the feeling of Remus’ facial hair scratching at your skin.
“Is it?” He acquired.
His lips nipped at certain areas on your neck, smirking at the sounds of your giggles and squirms.
“How often do we get mornings alone together where we don’t really have to be in a hurry to get anywhere?” You wondered.
“Not often. You’re not wrong about that,” Remus replied; “Are you saying I should take today off?”
You shrugged.
“It’d be nice. You and I could stay here all day...” You whispered out, taking your turn kissing his neck and jawline.
He was hesitant to give you a promise if he couldn’t afford a day off from work, even if it WAS a Saturday. Although, staying in bed all day really was tempting. You moved to crawl over on top of him, straddling his waist and continuing to layer him with kisses. Your hips grinded down against his crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband on his boxers, yanking them down his legs.
“Angel...don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warned, arousal beginning to flush over him as you removed your shirt from your body exposing your fully naked body to him.
You hummed out seductively, grinning at how he had gotten so hot and bothered by just a few kisses and showing your nakedness to him.
“How about this...” You purred, glancing over out the window and then looking back to Remus being sprawled out underneath you; “If I can make you cum before the sun fully comes up, then you have to take the day off.”
Remus’ hands gripped your waist to keep you from going anywhere, his brown eyes blown with lust.
“You’ve got a deal.” He murmured.
The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, so you didn’t have long before it was fully risen. You rocked your hips, dragging your sex over his dick and teasing your clit with his tip to build up your own arousal. It usually took some foreplay to get you wet and ready for him, but now you were having to put in a little effort to get where you needed to be.
You had to admit, Remus usually had your walls slick and cunt dripping with arousal within no time at all. It had been quite some time since you had to do it yourself. He watched in amusement, your desperate whimpers made his heart flutter as you tried your hardest to get yourself turned on. You were a bit out of practice when it came to self-satisfaction.
“Do you need a hand, baby?” He smirked, a snicker bubbling out of his throat.
You nodded vigorously, your hip rocking beginning to slow.
“Please.” You whined.
He obliged, wasting no time finding your clit with his fingers. You almost jolted off of him in waves of shocking pleasure if it hadn’t been for his hand holding you down. He cycled between different speeds and motions that he knew would have you pooling within only a few seconds. Your eyelashes batted as you rocked into his fingers, his deep voice sounding out.
“Such a pretty girl...” He groaned; “I’m not helping you after this, doll. If you want me to take my day off, you’re going to have to earn it.”
His words resonated with you that the goal was for you to get him to cum. Not the other way around. Although, you had a feeling you might get as lucky. You pulled his hand away just as the ecstasy fog began to cloud your head, letting you know you were good to go.
You lined yourself up and sank down onto him, drawing moans out of both of you. You had fucked him enough that you never really needed to adjust to him, but you always started out rather slow. You rolled pelvis in a slow ride, soaking his cock with your hot arousal and slickness. Remus’ head fell back onto the pillows, his hands trailing over your warm skin. He kneaded and your breasts, playing with your stimulated nipples in a way that sent sparks down your spine.
He reveled in the feeling of you slow riding him. It was secretly his favorite way to have you, despite popular belief. There was a time and place for rough, hard sex. Whereas something more sensual and slower like this was always in order. While he usually enjoyed a long, glacial fuck at the END of the day, he was preferring something a little faster to get the BEGINNING of his day started off right.
“Darling...” He implored, his tone letting you know that he wanted you to speed it up; “You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”
You nodded, shifting your movements into more of a bounce, and your speed increasing. He stretched and filled your walls perfectly, his tip hitting your g-spot every time you slammed back down onto his lap. The room was getting brighter as the sun crept higher and higher. Your skin was glowing in the warm colors of the sunrise, making you look so beautiful that it almost looked fake. He somewhat kept his original statement, keeping one hand above his head and one strictly on your waist to avoid giving you any assistance.
That didn’t stop him from verbally praising you.
“So fucking good, baby,” He mewled; “You’re such a good girl.”
Your brain couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. The only noises coming out of you were breathy pitches and moans each time you bounced back down onto him. You were totally focused, having one goal in mind.
You were going to give him the best orgasm of his life.
He was using all of his body force to keep his hips planted on the mattress. He was fighting the urge to fuck up into you with rutted, hard thrusts. You wanted to do this on your own, and by God he was going to let you. He LOVED the feeling of being buried deep inside of you when you sank onto him. He adored filling you and making noises that he didn’t even know were possible come out of you. He didn’t think it was possible, but you started moving even faster, sending blood rushing to his head.
“You’re going to be the death of me, [Y/N].” He said, his voice strained.
“I love you so much,” You huffed, your lungs breathless; “I want to spend every morning like this...”
Remus grunted in agreement, his mind too thick with fog to verbally respond. Truth be told, Remus was trying his hardest not to cum, putting off his release until after your goal time. It wasn’t that he DIDN’T want to cum, but he thought he could tantalize you from work if he caused you to fail at your challenge.
But the way you were rocking, rotating, and wonderfully fucking him, he realized he couldn’t help himself.
His dick twitched inside your throbbing cunt, signaling that he was only a few more moments away from spilling inside of you. A throaty groan erupted from his chest as he came inside of you, filling you with every drop of his release.
Your climax hit you in a flash of white, a strangled cry falling from your lips. You came around him, your movements coming to a stop as your body went limp. You placed your hands on his lower abdomen to steady yourself, your legs trembling from the strenuous movement.
His grip on your waist loosened, and now both of his hands were caressing softly. You took a few moments to regain yourself, before Remus’ gentle laugh brought you back to reality. You followed his gaze outside the window to see that the sun had just fully appeared above the skyline.
Perfect timing.
“A promise is a promise.” Remus grinned, his chest still heaving.
Your smile was blinding as you popped off of him, falling next to him on the mattress. You had worked him rather hard, and you were sure to give him some loving care. You littered his chest and face with kisses, happy that he was staying in with you today.
“Since you’ll be here all day, we could do that again...and again and again.” You hinted.
Remus’ dark eyes were trained on you, his cheeks flushed at the thought.
“Promise?” He asked.
You caught his lips in a searing kiss before spending all day wrapped up in his presence.
“Promise.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fanfiction#remus#remus lupin smut#remus lupin x female reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x professor#remus lupin oneshot#Harry Potter#harry potter lupin#harry potter remus lupin#seriouslysnape
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Happy New Year
Bakugo x F! Pregnant Reader Fluff
Summary:
You and Bakugo have been keeping a secret, and plan to reveal it at your New Year’s Party.
A/N: Here’s some sweet fluff to end the year. I have a soft spot for Dad!Bakugo and had to write something adorable for him. I hope you enjoy it and your new year is full of happiness and love! Also, I had to look up so much stuff about pregnancy. I hope no one finds my search history :P
TW: Pregnancy. mild cursing. Otherwise, super mega fluffy!
“Why do they have to come over?!” Bakugo grumbled for the thirtieth time.
You looked up from the pan you were currently scrubbing.
“Katsuki...they’re our friends! Plus, we are going to announce the big news.” You looked down at your small baby bump.
You and Bakugo had found out you were going to be parents nearly 5 months ago and you both were extremely excited. You had waited to tell everyone until it was deemed safe by your doctor and with the new year approaching, you figured it would be easy to gather everyone you loved to spill the news.
Of course, Bakugo was going to make it difficult though.
You knew he was just as excited as you about the addition to your little family, but whereas you were open about discussing all your fears, thoughts, and anxieties, Bakugo was a little more closed off and channeled the extra stress into other things.
You went back to washing the dishes and felt your husband’s biceps wrap around your body, his hands softly resting on your belly. He nuzzled into your neck.
“We could just send a text and stay in together. Watch the fireworks from the balcony, relax. Plus, are you sure you want those loud idiots stressing you and the baby out?” He murmured into your ear.
You giggled and swatted him with the dish rag.
“I literally live with a walking explosion and you’re worried our friends are too loud? I mean sure, maybe Present Mic, but I doubt he doesn’t already have plans.” You trailed off, before he spun you around and lifted you up, bridal style.
“That’s enough, off to bed with you mama. You’re too snappy tonight and clearly not thinking straight.” He chuckled as you squealed into his chest.
“‘Tsuki, you’re so annoying!” You laughed as he gently tossed you into bed.
He crawled on top of you, pressing your body into the soft mattress and mountains of pillows you insisted on sleeping with.
“I may be annoying, but I’m also the father of this little brat inside you.” He muttered, vermillion eyes shining. You smiled up at him.
He had grown up a lot since your UA days. While he still had his hot-headed moments, he was playful and more considerate of your feelings and you knew he was going to be an amazing father. He even changed his screensaver on his phone to your sonogram, though he would never admit it.
“We’re gonna have fun, babe. It’s gonna be a good night with all our friends and we can finally be open about the baby. Plus, it’d be nice for our kid to meet all their aunts and uncles.” You grinned, thinking of how your friends would react to this.
Katsuki groaned, rolling over. “Kiri is gonna fucking cry, I know it.”
You laughed and curled up next Bakugo.
“Yeah...probably.”
-------
New Year’s Eve was finally here. You had been busy preparing everything for the party tonight and your heart fluttered at the idea of sharing your big news with everyone. Bakugo had to finish up some last minute stuff at the agency so he was going to be home right before the party began. You were pulling another tray of baked sweets out of the oven when your phone chirped.
You glanced over to see another message from your group chat with the girls.
Mina: Can’t wait to see you Y/N, I MISS YOU
Momo: Are you sure you don’t need us to bring anything? We don’t want to be bad guests.
Ochaco: We can also help set up if you need us to!
Y/N: I’m totally fine. Katsuki arranged for food to be delivered and Sero and Kirishima are picking up all the drinks for tonight. Just bring yourselves!
Y/N: Also yes, before you ask, I am making cookies.
Mina: HECK YES! :)
They started arranging transportation plans and you clicked your phone off, to focus on transferring the cookies onto a cooling tray. Once that was settled, you jogged upstairs to get dressed. Luckily, you weren’t really showing yet so your friends wouldn’t immediately know when you greeted them, but you still wanted to wear something loose and flowy.
You settled on a deep red dress that cinched right under your chest and opened in an A-line skirt. You rifled through your jewelry box until you found the necklace Katsuki had given you for your birthday. It was a large black teardrop shaped diamond on a simple thin silver chain. You reached behind your back to clasp the necklace and felt a warm hand enclose yours.
“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You smiled looking at your husband in the mirror. He finished attaching your necklace and met your eyes.
“I just got here. The food’s here too, so everything’s done. I just need to get dressed.” He said, twirling you around so you were facing him. He rubbed your tiny bump. “How’s the brat been today?”
“Surprisingly chill. Though the baby did require a couple pints of ice cream for breakfast.” You laughed.
“Uh-huh...blame it on the baby.” He chuckled and gave you a kiss on your forehead. You could smell the scent of his body wash, a spicy cinnamon musk combined with his natural caramel scent. He must have showered at the agency and you buried your face in his chest, enveloping yourself in him.
“Stop sniffing me like a dog, crazy woman.” He flicked you on the head and you pouted. He crouched down so he could kiss your belly.
“I’m sorry your mama is nuts.” He laughed before pressing his lips to your stomach.
You smiled. Though you were excited to tell your friends about the news, you kind of loved having this little secret just between you two. These moments, with just you, Bakugo, and the baby, were magical and felt so...pure. Untainted from anything.
-----
“We’re HERE!” Mina’s voice echoed through your entryway. She was dressed in a gold sparkly jumpsuit and her aura just screamed “Happy New Year”. She was followed by Momo, dressed in a sparkly green dress and Tsu, who wore yellow sundress. Soon the door opened again and Ochaco was ushered in by Deku. You grinned at her blushing face. Her and Deku had finally admitted their feelings for each other after years of pining and they were adorable together. She had on a cute pink knee-length dress that matched Deku’s tie, which contrasted nicely against the dark teal suit he wore.
The rest of your friends piled in slowly afterwards, with Sero and Kirishima carrying cases of booze. You had made sure to stock your house with plenty of non-alcoholic drinks as well but you knew the rest of your friends planned to party hard, since it was rare to all get together.
Once everyone made it in, and Iida stopped arm chopping at Denki for some unknown broken social rule, Kirishima raised his beer.
“Can we just toast to Y/N and Bakubro, for hosting this party? It feels like a million years since I’ve seen you guys.”
You giggled and looked at your husband. He rolled his eyes and looked at you nodding. You turned back to the group.
“Actually, we invited you here because of something else…” You looked down at your belly, and heard gasps.
“ARE YOU…?”
“You’re…?”
“Wait what…?”
Bakugo looked exasperated with the suspense.
“We’re having a baby, idiots.”
A loud cheer erupted from your friends and immediately you were swarmed by the girls, asking a million questions. The guys were clapping Bakugo on the back and as expected Kirishima was already tearing up.
“So manly bro. You’re gonna be the manliest dad!” He sobbed while squeezing Bakugo in a tight hug. Sero and Denki snickered watching this.
“Get off of me idiot. I’m not the pregnant one.” Bakugo growled trying to pry the redhead off him. Kirishima turned to you and started hugging you tightly.
“I’m so proud of you guys!”
“You’re proud of them for —”
A ribbon of tape wrapped itself around Kaminari’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. You threw a grateful look toward Sero, who grinned over his beer.
The rest of the night turned into an impromptu baby shower, with everyone fawning over you two. You were asked a zillion questions, everyone offered to babysit, and even Todoroki offered his quirk if you ever needed pain relief (which Bakugo immediately shot down).
“I can take care of my own wife, IcyHot Bastard.” He grunted through his teeth. You smacked Bakugo upside the head before apologizing to Todoroki. You placed your hand back to rest on your belly and felt a small flutter.
“Holy shit...babe!” You’re mouth dropped. Immediately, the room went quiet and Bakugo rushed to your side.
“What, what’s wrong??!” He placed his hand on your stomach and his eyes widened.
“The baby...the baby’s kicking.” You smiled, eyes pricking with tears. The two of you looked at each other and you could see tears threatening to spill from your husband’s eyes. He grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, seeming to forget where he was.
“I love you, I love you both so goddamn much” He whispered to you, before kissing you again.
“Bro, you’re gonna make her have twins!” Kaminari yelled out, before being smacked in the head by both Mina and Kirishima. You giggled and pulled your husband close to you, before he blasted his friend out of the house.
“Guys, it’s almost midnight!” Momo said looking at her watch. “Ten…”
“Nine…”
“Eight…”
You looked around at all your cheering friends.
“Seven…”
“Six…”
You looked at your husband, who gave you a soft smile back.
“Five…”
“Four…”
You looked down at your baby bump.
“Three...two...one.”
“Happy New Year!”
#mha fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#mha x reader#tw pregnancy#dad!bakugou#weebnation#dynamight
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twice twice baby (preview)
pairing: jake x gn reader x sunghoon
word count: 2200
tags/warnings: fluff, slight angst, college!au, hockey player!jake, ice skater!sunghoon, sports med assistant!reader, slowburn, mutual pining, cursing, slightly suggestive scenes
a/n: this is just a preview of the bigger piece i plan to publish much later, so it pretty much only has jake, sorry hoonists! also gonna address it here while we’re at it, but i wanna apologize to everyone who sent requests in! i have them all plotted, most drafted and written, but i didn’t realize when i moved back home how busy i would be with work, summer classes, and looking for an apartment! i will have them published before the end of summer though! this piece is coming out before only because i wrote it well before finals week lol
taglist: please let me know if you wanna be part of the taglist!
Being in a parallelogram (or was it a dodecagon? A triangle? whatever) with the two notorious ‘Ice Hotties’ at your college, Jake Sim, the captain of the hockey team, and Park Sunghoon, the world class figure skater, is easy. Geometry isn’t that complicated...right?
As you entered into the arena, a cold blast of air struck, prompting you to jump slightly in your tracks, cursing that it was men’s hockey season and not basketball anymore. Albeit arms shivering, knees wobbling, and barely being able to make any strides at all, you weren’t distraught and to some extent trembling because of the ice rink or the ice packs inside the pouch seemingly glued to your waist, or hell, even the unnecessary air conditioner giving its all. Really, did they need to keep that fucking thing on when it was already polar-arctic-adjacent inside the arena? Probably to keep the rink from oozing into water and having Atlantis actually come to fruition...whatever, fuck the cold!
“Y/N, let’s get on it. We’re a bit late.” The head athletic trainer indicated, speed-walking a little too quickly for your liking, but what were you to do when your chest was heaving upon arrival at the ice center? Suck it up? Collapse and crawl into a ball?
Nodding, even though she was practically scurrying and leaving your curtailing ass in the dust, you heightened your pace despite the fact that your legs were about to give out at any second. Weren’t cold spaces supposed to make a solid more rigid, not turn your legs to jelly?
The both of you finally reached the area where the players were situated to greet the head and assistant hockey coaches.
“This is Y/N,” your trainer (whom insisted you just skip the formalities and call her Mina) motioned to you, slightly yet noticeably panting, “a first year, but they’ve done men’s basketball, women’s soccer and some gymnastics last semester. They know their stuff!”
“Wouldn’t doubt it.” The head coach reaches out to grip your hand firmly.
“Pleasure to meet y—“ once more today you jump, this time not shaken by the frozen tundra or by the vehemently boisterous buzzer, though it was much more thundering than the buzzer at the basketball court for some reason, but by the announcers cheering, “first year, number three, co-Captain, Jake Sim!”
And the crowd? They didn’t just go wild, no, they were literally cacophonous, the ground beneath and the arena stands rumbling, practically rivaling the San Andreas fault. Craning your neck to look around the oval shaped space and just how many students from your school, clad in university regalia, were present to see guys battle it out with plastic sticks on frozen water, even that, the entire scene wasn’t what had your heart nearly palpitating out of your chest.
First year, number three, co-Captain, Jake Sim. Now that was enough to warrant a blood pressure monitor...and possibly a defibrillator.
Almost giving yourself whiplash from turning around too quickly, it was hard not to gape at the boy coasting across the ice, waving at the all too excited crowd. And even through his helmet and from across the rink, you could make out his dark, glimmering irises, like how the sun’s edges would peak through from behind during an eclipse. It was kind of charmingly sickening actually, that someone could be as radiant as he was, under all the bulky gear, even despite the temperature. It wasn’t convenient actually that it had to be men’s hockey this time, that you, as the athletic trainer’s sports medicine intern had to attend the games for. Yeah, it was for credits. Sure, it was for intern experience...but what was the point if you only expected to make a fool out of yourself trying to tend to Jake and his teammates’ possible injuries?
It wasn’t fair, actually, that you were hopelessly in like with Jake Sim and that he didn’t even know your name when you were in the same physics class. To be fair though, it was a class of about 400, an infamous weeder course that crushed the poor souls of innocent underclassmen, so to have him direct any sort of attention your way, even a mere glimpse, would be laughable. That was what happened when you sat in the back, though.
Of course it just had to be Jake Sim that completely bewitched you, and he didn’t have to twirl any fingers or fixate any potions to have you just so damn spellbound. All he had to do was show up to freshman orientation with that stupid inviting grin of his, and that dumb glint in his eye that no one else seemed to possess. No, of course he just had to show up and be almost too cordial to everyone in your orientation group, even though all the other students, including you, could not give a single damn about the campus tour. And yes, of course, he just had to have the masses absolutely enamored with him, both upper and underclassmen alike.
Consider all of that, with Jake’s insane schedule, not that you knew anything specific, just that he had games on Tuesdays and Thursdays, coupled with daily practices, but you were only privy to that information because Mina always gave you the athletic teams’ agendas for the month. So yes, trying to garner any attention from Jake was like floating right smack in the middle of the Pacific, sending some sort of signal through a marine radio, and getting no response back. Not a hint that anyone was coming. No helicopters whirring above, no boats sent out ashore. What would he want to do with the first-aid kid, the person that sat in the back, the person that was paying attention to something else at the moment, and not the fact that they had to observe players carefully for potential injuries?
Well, sorry to Jake’s teammates and Mina, but you just couldn’t pry your eyes off of number three. How he skated in such an agile manner while simultaneously defending assertively was certainly an image now seared into your mind. The way he commanded the court was just so—“You paying attention? Are you okay today?” Mina snapped you out of your nonsensical trance.
“Yeah, yeah of course! Always on my toes like you said...” your eyes told a different story, and deceived you at that.
“And there’s number three, Sim, with the first goal!”
Jake skated backwards to high five his teammates and to prepare to defend, and it was definitely a sight to see him so animated, feeling right where he should be in his domain.
“Ah, I see. Number three is it? I heard he’s a beast on the ice,” Mina nudged and winked slyly at you, “anyway, pay attention ‘cause if your little ice boy gets hurt you know we gotta move quickly.”
It was already enough to have your friends taunt you about your silly adolescent infatuation with Jake, now to have your mentor in on it too? Mina was right though, you were here to wrap ankles and tend to bruised hips, not ogle at the team captain.
“Gotcha. On my toes!” you winked back at her, semi-ready to do your job. If you could predict injuries before they even happened during the basketball and soccer games you should be more than capable of caring for the hockey players. Whipping your head around to finally and legitimately focus on the members, you really wished you hadn’t.
There he was, number three, adept and dodging the defensive players, with the puck sliding in tandem with his stick. Then, it happened all too quickly, in a tenth of a second, too much for everyone spectating to comprehend.
BAM.
Suddenly, Jake was on his back after he and the opposing player too combatively collided into each other. You blinked once and now he was supine on ice, clutching a leg to his chest. His teammates and the referees hastily surrounded him, but you could not watch anymore, you had to do what you were here for.
Running past both the coaches, lamenting what the hells and go go go! at Mina, you dashed to the edge of the rink, about to enter and slip on the ice, but stopped yourself, because you didn’t have skates on. Fuck. Mina and you always ran to the scene of the injury, and you’d only dealt with hardwood floors and grass fields, but never ice. There was no reason for you to just stand around though, as Jake was being lifted by the referees. As much as you wanted to glue your eyes to the catastrophe, you sprinted to the locker room to fetch the cooler.
“Everyone, move!” You shouted at the towering players standing in your way. Setting the cooler on the floor, you directed some of them to assemble a few of the chairs they were sitting on for a makeshift cot for Jake to rest his leg on. Nervously yet rapidly, you dug into your backpack for a splint, pre-wrap, and medical tape.
When you stood back up, Jake and the referees were at the rink’s entrance, with Mina extending her arms to steady him once he transitioned from ice to linoleum. And through all this he maintained the same tender-hearted curve on his face, beaming at Mina and thanking the referees.
One of Jake’s coaches and Mina propped Jake around their shoulders as he hopped on one foot to your nearby station. Assisting them in getting Jake to sit down, you were shaking slightly out of feverishness and hormones, even though it was the perfect temperature for snowfall, but forming a resistance to doing that was almost impossible.
Christ, you weren’t like this when Taehyun tore his ligament last semester at the basketball semi-finals, or when Yuna sprained her toe out on the field, yet it was due to that certain someone that you just could not find it within you to operate as you usually did. It was imperative that you got out of your own head; Jake was merely another athlete you had to tend to and someone you, quite frankly, had to get over, like now.
Once Jake was seated with his right leg propped up on the opposite chair, he took his helmet off and handed it to his coach standing guard next to him.
“Mina, you guys got this?” The coach hesitantly asked your trainer.
“Absolutely nothing to worry about, Coach Kim! We’ve seen worse than this; we’re good, right Y/N?”
You gave Coach Kim a measly thumbs up and he rushed to get back to the rest of the team to continue with the game, deliberating who would substitute in now that their best player was on the sidelines.
While Mina undid Jake’s skates and kneepads, you assessed him before you could get started, asking him what kind of pain he had in his leg, how much it hurt on a scale of 1-10, and if he could wiggle his toes.
Sharp and kind of aching, I think. 8.5-ish, actually maybe just 8. Toes wiggling.
“Um, okay. Good that your toes are still intact, which means you’re gonna be okay, but is there any other part of your body that hurts?” You tried not to sound like a complete buffoon, trying to enunciate your words properly like you did with several other injured athletes; Jake shouldn’t have been any different. He was, though.
“Yeah, I feel like there’s a bruise on the right side of my body somewhere,” he said, motioning to his abdomen.
“Okay...I’m gonna take your shoulder pads off and you have to take your jersey off so we can ice it, is that cool with you?” Your brain was bouncing off the walls at the mention of “take” and “off”. Come on, this wasn’t fucking NASA, although it might as well have been, as he was a universe and a half to you (in a melodramatic way of sorts).
“Yeah, yeah—for sure. Thanks.” Jake flashed an acknowledging smile, to which your cheeks heated up at. There was an injured boy in front of you—no time for shits and giggles and teenage elation.
As you aided Jake in removing his shoulder pads and jersey, he winced a bit, while trying to hide it at the same time.
“Are you good? I’ll get some ice on that soon, I promise.” You gradually eased into your ‘medic’ mode, trying to expel as much of your nerves as humanly possible.
“Yeah I’m okay, just hurts a bit. Thanks again,” he could not stop giving you that demure yet brazen demeanor, and to be around a smiling Jake meant a tense you, regardless if your subconscious plan to initiate Nerves Exodus was kind of working.
When Mina stood up, all finished with undoing his skates and knee pads, she asked Jake to repeat what he stated about his pain earlier to you back to her. Before walking to where the coaches and other players were, she chaffed at you, with a mischievous lilt to her words, “you can handle it from here right? The star player’s in your hands.”
Audibly, you ‘mhmmed’ her, and when you were out of Jake’s sight, rolled your eyes, making sure she noticed that. You were glad though, that Mina was your trainer and not some old, stern fart like she had when she interned in your same position; it made for much more “effective” mentoring and communication, especially because she left you alone with the athletes, so you were able to think of what to do next for yourself, and if there were ever any mistakes—which there were none of to date—she would help you work through them.
Holy shit, Mina left. It was just you and Jake.
#enhypen#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen imagine#jake imagines#sunghoon imagines#jake scenarios#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon#jake
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Morning Challenges
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Simon x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut. Language.
Word Count: 1,669
“You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”
__
“Five more minutes?” You begged.
“Baby, I’ve got to go.” Simon replied.
“Please?” You pressed on.
“I can’t, sweetheart.”
He looked down at your pouting face, his heart melting at the way your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly as you looked back at him through pleading eyes. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 or so. Simon usually didn’t get his day started until around 7:30, but today he had some things he wanted to get a head start on.
And you weren’t happy about it.
“Simon,” You whined; “I want you to stay.”
You refused to let him out of your death cling, which consisted of you wrapping yourself around him in a way that meant he’d have to quite literally peel you off of him. He had to admit, you were making it awfully hard to get up and go to work.
“You have work too, you know.” Simon pointed out.
“Never this early. The sun hasn’t even come up yet.” You argued back, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
“It’ll start to in a few minutes.” He announced.
You grumbled, your fingers dancing along his toned core.
“Don’t you have a pass for a day off or something?” You questioned.
A chuckle escaped his chest, as he peppered kisses along your neck.
“Yeah, something like that. I’ve been holding off on using it,” Simon answered; “Been saving it for a special occasion.”
“Today’s a special occasion.” You claimed, shifting a little under the feeling of Simon’s facial hair scratching at your skin.
“Is it?” He acquired.
His lips nipped at certain areas on your neck, smirking at the sounds of your giggles and squirms.
“How often do we get mornings alone together where we don’t really have to be in a hurry to get anywhere?” You wondered.
“Not often. You’re not wrong about that,” Simon replied; “Are you saying I should take today off?”
You shrugged.
“It’d be nice. You and I could stay here all day...” You whispered out, taking your turn kissing his neck and jawline.
He was hesitant to give you a promise if he couldn’t afford a day off from work. Although, staying in bed all day was tempting. You moved to crawl over on top of him, straddling his waist and continuing to layer him with kisses. Your hips grinded down against his crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband on his boxers, yanking them down his legs.
“Angel...don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warned, arousal beginning to flush over him as you removed your t-shirt from your body exposing your fully naked body to him.
You hummed out seductively, grinning at how he had gotten so hot and bothered by just a few kisses and showing your nakedness to him.
“How about this...” You purred, glancing over out the window and then looking back to Simon being sprawled out underneath you; “If I can make you cum before the sun fully comes up, then you have to take the day off.”
Simon’s hands gripped your waist to keep you from going anywhere, his brown eyes blown with lust.
“You’ve got a deal.” He murmured.
The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, so you didn’t have long before it was fully risen. You rocked your hips, dragging your sex over his dick and teasing your clit with his tip to build up your own arousal. It usually took some foreplay to get you wet and ready for him, but now you were having to put in a little effort to get where you needed to be.
You had to admit, Simon usually had your walls slick and cunt dripping with arousal within no time at all. It had been quite some time since you had to do it yourself. He watched in amusement, your desperate whimpers made his heart flutter as you tried your hardest to get yourself turned on. You were a bit out of practice when it came to self-satisfaction.
“Do you need a hand, baby?” He smirked, a snicker bubbling out of his throat.
You nodded vigorously, your hip rocking beginning to slow.
“Please.” You whined.
He obliged, wasting no time finding your clit with his fingers. You almost jolted off of him in waves of shocking pleasure if it hadn’t been for his hand holding you down. He cycled between different speeds and motions that he knew would have you pooling within only a few seconds. Your eyelashes batted as you rocked into his fingers, his deep voice sounding out.
“Such a pretty girl...” He groaned; “I’m not helping you after this, doll. If you want me to take my day off, you’re going to have to earn it.”
His words resonated with you that the goal was for you to get him to cum. Not the other way around. Although, you had a feeling you might get as lucky. You pulled his hand away just as the ecstasy fog began to cloud your head, letting you know you were good to go.
You lined yourself up and sank down onto him, drawing moans out of both of you. You had fucked him enough that you never really needed to adjust to him, but you always started out rather slow. You rolled pelvis in a slow ride, soaking his cock with your hot arousal and slickness. Simon’s head fell back onto the pillows, his hands trailing over your warm skin. He kneaded and your breasts, playing with your stimulated nipples in a way that sent sparks down your spine.
He reveled in the feeling of you slow riding him. It was secretly his favorite way to have you, despite popular belief. There was a time and place for rough, hard sex. Whereas something more sensual and slower like this was always in order. While he usually enjoyed a long, glacial fuck at the END of the day, he was preferring something a little faster to get the BEGINNING of his day started off right.
“Darlin’...” He implored, his tone letting you know that he wanted you to speed it up; “You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”
You nodded, shifting your movements into more of a bounce, and your speed increasing. He stretched and filled your walls perfectly, his tip hitting your g-spot every time you slammed back down onto his lap. The room was getting brighter as the sun crept higher and higher. Your skin was glowing in the warm colors of the sunrise, making you look so beautiful that it almost looked fake. He somewhat kept his original statement, keeping one hand above his head and one strictly on your waist to avoid giving you any assistance.
That didn’t stop him from verbally praising you.
“So fucking good, baby,” He mewled; “You’re such a good girl.”
Your brain couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. The only noises coming out of you were breathy pitches and moans each time you bounced back down onto him. You were totally focused, having one goal in mind.
You were going to give him the best orgasm of his life.
He was using all of his body force to keep his hips planted on the mattress. He was fighting the urge to fuck up into you with rutted, hard thrusts. You wanted to do this on your own, and by God he was going to let you. He LOVED the feeling of being buried deep inside of you when you sank onto him. He adored filling you and making noises that he didn’t even know were possible come out of you. He didn’t think it was possible, but you started moving even faster, sending blood rushing to his head.
“You’re going to be the death of me, [Y/N].” He said, his voice strained.
“I love you so much,” You huffed, your lungs breathless; “I want to spend every morning like this...”
Simon grunted in agreement, his mind too thick with fog to verbally respond. Truth be told, Simon was trying his hardest not to cum, putting off his release until after your goal time. It wasn’t that he DIDN’T want to cum, but he thought he could tantalize you from work if he caused you to fail at your challenge.
But the way you were rocking, rotating, and wonderfully fucking him, he realized he couldn’t help himself.
His dick twitched inside your throbbing cunt, signaling that he was only a few more moments away from spilling inside of you. A throaty groan erupted from his chest as he came inside of you, filling you with every drop of his release.
Your climax hit you in a flash of white, a strangled cry falling from your lips. You came around him, your movements coming to a stop as your body went limp. You placed your hands on his lower abdomen to steady yourself, your legs trembling from the strenuous movement.
His grip on your waist loosened, and now both of his hands were caressing softly. You took a few moments to regain yourself, before Simon’s gentle laugh brought you back to reality. You followed his gaze outside the window to see that the sun had just fully appeared above the skyline.
Perfect timing.
“A promise is a promise.” Simon grinned, his chest still heaving.
Your smile was blinding as you popped off of him, falling next to him on the mattress. You had worked him rather hard, and you were sure to give him some loving care. You littered his chest and face with kisses, happy that he was staying in with you today.
“Since you’ll be here all day, we could do that again...and again and again.” You hinted.
Simon’s dark eyes were trained on you, his cheeks flushed at the thought.
“Promise?” He asked.
You caught his lips in a searing kiss before spending all day wrapped up in his presence.
“Promise.”
#simon#the walking dead simon#simon twd#simon the walking dead#simon x reader#simon twd x reader#simon twd fanfic#simon twd imagines#twd#twd simon#simon twd smut#simon twd x female reader#steven ogg#twdbegins
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Milestone Maker - Sidney Crosby
Word Count: 1,992
POV: Reader
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Language
Notes: So you guys made me realize I could not let this milestone of my OG hockey hubby go by without writing a little something. I hope you all enjoy this. Happy Reading to all of you! Congratulation Sidney on 1000th games! Can’t wait to watch him in the next 1000.
“Good morning, my love,” you greeted your husband, setting the breakfast tray down at the foot of the bed so that you could kiss him properly. “Happy one-thousandth game day.” Sid smiled sweetly at you, before drawing you back down for another kiss. You’d been married for almost nineteen months now and you still couldn’t get enough of each other.
Your foot bumped the tray, as the kiss turned heated, reminding you that you’d brought him breakfast on his special day. “What’s this?” He asked after hearing the clink of the silverware.
“I made you all your favorites.”
“You’re telling me there are waffles in there?”
“Of course, with strawberries, just the way you like them.” You set the tray on his lap, removing the cover that you’d placed on it so keep everything warm.
“You know the other way I like this?” He scooped up a dollop of whipped cream and smeared it on your lips before licking it away.
“Eat this first,” you ordered, lifting up a forkful of eggs to feed him. “Then we’ll move on to other things.” He took the proffered bite, seductively closing his lips around the utensil and you were suddenly second-guessing your decision to bring him breakfast in bed. “You know I’m supposed to be the one inciting you like that.”
“Babe, you literally walk in the room and I want you. So consider this a taste of your own medicine.” Sid decided to grab a piece of turkey bacon next, moaning dramatically as he ate. It was all over after that. You grabbed the tray and set it on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Hey,” Sid whined. “That’s my breakfast.”
“Mmmhmm, I’m aware.” You crawled back up the length of the bed so that you were situated beside the length of him
“Then you’re aware it’s getting cold.” That damn smirk was on his face, the one that never failed to turn your insides to goo.
“I’ll remake everything, but this can’t wait.” You shimmied the comforter and sheets that were pooled around his waist down, exposing his body to you. Hands raking down his chest, you felt his sharp intake of breath before you heard it. Sid took the satin ties of your robe and toyed with them between his fingers, itching to touch your body, but this was about him today. You swatted him away before bending down to kiss the little trail of hair that led to the place you knew would drive him wild.
Taking his cock, you let your tongue sneak out and lick the head, tasting his dewy precum. It was your turn to moan, and you felt Sid harden even further with just that small simple touch. When you wrapped your lips around his shaft, Sid’s head fell back against the bed, lost in the power of your mouth. His hand instinctively threaded through your hair, pulling it back so he could enjoy the view. You worked him in and out of your mouth; your hand pumping what couldn’t fit in. “You’re so fucking good to me, (Y/N).” Swirling your tongue around the head, Sid groaned out his pleasure. You had a knack of driving him to the brink in no time and today was no different.
You popped him out of your mouth, then trailed your tongue down to his balls, sucking and licking him the way you knew he liked. His shaft, you worked with your right hand, jerking it up and down in a motion that drove him mad. It was torturous, but torture that he loved and you loved taking him there. His hips bucked up in your hand and you knew he was close, so you took him back into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks so you could suck him off.
“Fuck baby.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he was pushing you off of him and rolling you onto your back. Somehow the ties of your robe had come undone, and Sid pushed it open the rest of the way to reveal your naked form. “God, you’re beautiful.” His fingers slipped between your folds, to make sure that you were wet for him. There was no need for you’d been dripping since the moment he took that bite of egg, but Sid, being the gentlemen that he was, always needed to make sure.
“Please, Sid,” you begged, wanting his cock inside you. “I need you.”
Again, that cocky little smirk, the one that you’d fallen in love with, came out, before he thrust deep inside you. “You feel so fucking good.” He pushed your knees back, before leveraging himself over you, then began pumping in and out of your pussy. His lips found yours, devouring you as he stroked his cock in and out of you. For as long as you’d known him, and it had been a few hundred of those thousand games, this would never get old. You’d always love the feel of him thrusting deep inside you.
Sid pinned your hands on either side of your head and laced his fingers with yours. His mouth was still firmly attached to yours, as he pistoned in and out of you. You were on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment, when he finally broke the kiss, both of you panting. “I love you,” He said looking deep in your eyes, right as you fell apart. The sight and feel causing Sid to spiral down that path with you. He collapsed on top of you, after cumming deep inside you.
“I love you too,” you whispered stroking the nape of his neck, then running your fingers through his soft curls. He moved to his side taking you with him and the two of you laid there for several minutes just catching your breath. Finally, Sid got up and went to the foot of the bed. “What are you doing?”
“Eating my breakfast,” he laughed, bringing the tray back up. “I worked up an appetite.”
You grabbed the tray out of his hand as he snatched up another piece of bacon. “This is cold. I’ll go make you fresh while you shower. You’ve got practice soon.”
There was a pout on his face, one that usually appeared when there was a bad call on the ice. “You’re ruining my day with talk of that.”
“Well, how else are you going to get another thousand if you don’t get out of this bed.”
“Fine, I’m going.”
The two of you went about your day, as you would any normal game day, for although it was his thousandth game, some things you couldn’t change. “I’ll see you at the arena.” He said before kissing you goodbye. “You’ll be on time, right?”
“Of course, I will.” You’d never been late to anything of his or yours for that matter, but you knew he was fretting because there would be a special little ceremony before the game.
“I know. I’m just being paranoid, but you’re all that's here for this.” It was killing Sid that his parents couldn’t be here with Covid restrictions.
“I know, baby. I’ll be there extra early.”
“Thanks, babe. I love you.”
“Love you too.” He was out the door then and as soon as he was, you were putting your surprise for him into action. Of course, the Penguins had things planned out for him, but you’d wanted to do something special for him as well.
You got ready and headed to the arena, making sure you were there thirty minutes before the time Sid had asked you to be, along with your surprise. While this wasn’t the way you wanted to commemorate your husband’s milestone, both you and he would’ve preferred to do it in front of the home crowd in Pittsburgh, you were still happy that the team and NHL were recognizing his accomplishment.
Right before the National anthem, they brought out the carpet where you would meet Sid. You stood there, waiting as you heard the announcer start the speech. Sid looked over making sure you were there and you blew him a kiss, while he gave you a little smirk and wink back. He then turned his attention to the scoreboard to watch the montage and well wishes from everyone. You had tears in your eyes as you watched all his accomplishments. The video came to an end to the sound of piped-in applause and stick taps from both teams.
“Please welcome Sidney’s family,” you heard the announcer say before the door opened. Sid looked over as you walked out, his parents and sister trailing behind you. He was stunned that they were there. Why you weren’t sure, because they would never miss something this special in his life, but you’d definitely been able to pull off this little surprise. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the tears that threatened to fall, while yours were already tumbling down.
He stopped at your first, kissing you through your mask. “How did you?”
“I’ll tell you later. I love you, baby. Congratulations.” He moved on hugging and kissing the cheeks of all his family members, while a couple of the guys brought out flowers for you, Trina and Taylor. Geno and Tanger brought out his sliver stick, while Rusty handed out the special plaque that was made. It was over within minutes but the reaction from Sid would last a lifetime in your mind.
At the end of the night, everyone celebrated his accomplishment with champagne at the arena. His parents told him that it had been all your doing to get them here, making sure that they had covid tests and getting them a hotel to stay at for the surprise. They would be staying on a few days longer, but at your home with the two of you.
“I don’t know how to thank you, babe. This means so much.”
“I still have a couple surprises left.” You pulled out one of the boxes you had hidden for him.
He opened the gift, a specially made Rolex watch commemorating his accomplishment. “Wow, this is incredible.”
“Just like you,” you told him before handing him the other.
“Sweetie this is way too much. You didn’t need to do all this.”
“Shush,” you told. “You deserve it, though this one has a no return policy on it so I hope you like it.”
His curiosity was piqued at that and he tore away the paper quickly. Lifting the lid, he gasped, smiling brightly at what he saw inside. “Really?” You simply smiled and nodded back.
“What is it, son?” Troy asked though everyone in the room's attention was now on Sidney.
“We’re having a baby,” Sid announced, before closing the lid and lifting you off the ground. He kissed you as champagne and cheers went up all around you. Sid set you down on your feet, after a few minutes, a worried look crossing his face. “Was that ok? Maybe I shouldn’t have told everyone.”
“It’s perfectly fine. I hope you don’t mind me telling you this way.”
“Mind? Babe this is perfect. You made this day one I’ll never forget.” His hands were roaming over your belly, where the baby grew even though you hadn’t started to show at all.
“I think you did that all on your own.”
“Nah, it’s taken everyone here to get me this far in my career, and it’s taken you to get me something I’ve always dreamed of.” Pregnancy hormones were getting the best of you as happy tears started to pool in your eyes. “Just think, if I make it to fifteen-hundred games, our little one will be out there with you.”
“You’ll make it to that and I have a feeling it’ll be more than one little one out there, Mr. Crosby.”
“God, I hope so. I love you, Mrs. Crosby.”
“Love you too, Sid.”
#Sidney Crosby#Sidney Crosby smut#Sidney Crosby imagine#sidney crosby imagines#1000th game#congrats Sid#NHL imagines#nhl imagine#nhl smut#Pittsburgh penguins imagines#pittsburgh penguins imagine#sidney crosby fanfic#sidney crosby fanfiction
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bunny boy.
summary: s/o gets their hq bf to wear a bunny outfit [it’s like literally the same one from bunny girl senpai]
genre: fluff-ish ; v v suggestive themes, we gettin into the sexc times
characters: semi eita [boyfriend, established relationship] tsukishima kei [best friends turn friends with benefits dynamic]
characters are aged up to a college level
瀬見 英太 | [boyfriend]
cleaning out through your closet you took a double take to what you had just found. It had been months since you cleaned out your closet, and quite honestly, you’d often get distracted and play with some random nothing for an hour postponing the process.
you giggled a little at the memory of the item as you reached for it and patted some dust off.
It was the bunny outfit.
the one that you had gotten for your Halloween costume last year that seemed to rather excite your boyfriend. at the memory you bit back a smile and felt a rush of blood to your cheeks.
‘I wonder why we stopped using it.’ you wonder, recalling how fun it was.
but then an idea hit you.
you took the costume to the laundry and put in it the wash in hopes of making it a bit nicer since it had been laying around for so long. After having it cleaned out you tucked neatly in your drawer and called your boyfriend to come over.
you jumped at the sound of the knocking at your door and suddenly you got butterflies. You nervously walk over to the door and open it, smiling.
“Hiii Eitaaa” you smiled giving him a big hug as soon as opening the door.
a smirk itched at the corner of his lips. “You missed me that much, bunny?” he asked, a hint of cockyness in his tone.
“I did” you pout, “but I guess if you don’t want my love, I’ll just go” you jokingly teased, closing the door holding your nose high and walking away. The smile that you were trying to tuck down showed itself obviously.
“Noooo, give me kisses, I’m sorryyy”
you smiled again at how easily you could play with him.
“apology accepted! ” you giggled, planting three quick pecks on his lips.
“however,“ you quirked an eyebrow, “we must play a game for compensation.” You smiled, already excited to do this, although praying that he was the one that got his flip side of the coin.
“Oh, really? What kind of game?” he smiled, watching the gaze of you dramatically announcing it, causing the pit of his stomach to flutter a little, you were so cute.
“we’ll flip a coin, whoever gets the side that they call for and wins has to wear this outfit that I have tucked away in my dresser at the moment.” You had to bite back another huge smile when you saw the look on his face, curiosity itched all over his face.
you knew just how to get him. Semi could never resist something like this, the curiosity getting the best of him.
“Oh?” he laughed, searching your face for an answer of what this could possibly be.
“Oh, indeed, Eita, oh, indeed.” you laughed, grabbing for a coin on your desk that had been simply laying there, conveniently enough.
“how about, tails you win, heads I lose.”
you quickly went on ahead before he could answer, hoping he wouldn’t catch on to your trick of him of being able to win no matter what, you giggled at his state at how fast you had moved on before he could answer.
you flicked the coin into the air, the pretty and clear sound of the metal rang through the air until you caught it.
“Oh, would you look at that, tails. that means you win baby!” you were excited but oh so nervous.
Semi smirked at your remark, “you thought I didn’t catch on with you little trick, bunny?” “I win either way if you put it as tails I win and head you lose.” he said, walking closer to you and now leveling his face down to you own. your cheeks painted red at his proximity, he was so close you could feel his breath. He just made you flustered so easily, it was ridiculous.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you innocently remarked, breaking his eye contact to look up, his gaze still rested on your eyes regardless, still unmoving.
“how about you tell me what you want to see me wear so bad” he teased, trying to catch your eyes again.
“you wanna know?” you asked, now growing your own smirk of your own, causing Semi to fluster himself a little.
you grabbed hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and led him to your room, you stood in front of the dresser. “remember that bunny outfit?” you asked, watching his features as he recalled in his own head the outfit that he loved so much on you. “I do” he smirked, keeping a very pointed and meaningful look at you making you get butterflies again.
you opened the drawer and handed it to him. “I wanna see you wear it Eita.”
his face painted with shock for but a second before a smirk grew.
“Oh?” his tone heavy with meaning.
“you’re fucking kinky aren’t you y/n?” he asked, knowing exactly how to push your buttons.
“oh shut the hell up and put it on.” you pushed him, flustered at what he had said but yet still intrigued.
“hmm, okay, okay, i will. but,” he reached inside the dresser and took out the outfit holding it in his hands. “you have to ask nicer.” he smiled still trying to get as much of a reaction out of you as possible. his smile was anything but sincere and innocent. you knew what he was playing at.
“pleaseee, put it on for me?” you pleaded, your lips forming a small pout.
“good girl, go on and wait in the living room, i’ll put this on.” he instructed.
“oh, and bring out the polaroid.” he winked.
you did as he asked, taking out the polaroid from under you bed and going to the living room.
he did agree to this a lot faster than you thought he would, maybe you could get him to do other stuff and he would be okay with it.
an image of a maid outfit popped into your mind and you had to shake the thought away before it got you too excited again.
If anything you had a very vivid imagination.
a minute or two passed and you heard his voice from your bedroom, “are you ready for me?” he called.
“im ready!” you called back, excited to see.
Eita slowly opened the bedroom door and walked out and oh my god.
how did he manage to look beautiful with a bunny outfit on too?
your eyes traced the curves of his body and his muscles, his pretty hair decorated by a headband of bunny ears.
“woah..” you managed to accidently slip out as you took in the image of your boyfriend.
“oh? you liked this?” he asked, he turned around to show you the cute little bunny tail.
“oh my god eita, you look so hot” you flustered, hiding your face in your hands from embarrassment.
“take a picture of me with the polaroid, bunny.” he said walking up to you, his gaze on you made you feel small.
you picked up the pretty light pink pastel polaroid next to you and before you knew it, Semi picked you up too, you legs wrapped around his waist as he hauled you over to the bedroom.
he softly dropped you onto the bed, your legs still wrapped around his torso. ‘so we’re doing this?’ you thought. you pulled up the polaroid camera up, “say cheese!” you giggled.
“cheeseeee” Eita gave you his best sunshine of a smile, the camera flashed and you took the picture of him and his bunny outfit, you pulled out the picture and before you could look at it Semi threw the camera and the polaroid out of the way and clashed his lips on yours.
月島 蛍 | [best friends going to fwb dynamic]
the thought had been crawling in your mind for days. you kept telling yourself that there was no way this would happen. there’s no way you could get the tsukishima kei to wear a bunny outfit. but you just couldn’t listen to yourself.
lately you’ve been watching him more closely. if he had noticed he hadn’t said anything. maybe he didn’t notice. it wasn’t on purpose, really. you just couldn’t help yourself. you would absently minded and subconsciously avert your gaze from anything you’re supposed to be putting your mind on and focusing on kei, daydreaming planning on a way to get him to put on a damn bunny outfit.
maybe this was wrong of you. you were his best friend after all, you had been for a very long time. but like said before, you couldn’t help yourself. because your lust for him was simply growing on its’ own.
you and tsukishima were both top in your classes and you studied together after school when he didn’t have volleyball to maintain that. you’d usually go to the public library which in all honesty was far too fancy of a place to even look like a public library, it was quiet and secluded, all of the books were in top shape and the walls decorated with expensive art of the renaissance era, with the occasional greek statue around the corner. totally normal for the average public library, i know.
it was another friday of just you and tsukishima studying in the library together. books and notes littered across the table that you two shared, you sat across from him. in the usual studing sessions that you guys did, you’d go around the table to sit next to him when you needed help with something. not today.
as per expected, you kept dazing off and paying no mind to the studies that you needed to catch up on. tsukishima glanced up to catch you staring at him, you gave him a wink and smirk to see how he’d react. the blondes cheeks tinted a slight blush, “what the hell are you looking at dumbass?”
“oh? i can’t look at my incredibly handsome best friend? i didn’t know that was a crime.” you smiled, resting your cheek on your hand, you elbow on the table.
“you haven’t been focusing at all have you?” he asked, glancing down to notice that you hadn’t barely gone through 2 pages of homework.
you groaned and let you face fall gently to your arms splayed out on the table. “i don’t want to study kei.” you moaned, looking up at him to catch his lips twitch. why’d his lips twitch? was it because you moa-
“you kinda have to dumbass, i don’t want to have to walk by you living in a street corner and have to take you in because you didn’t study.” he huffed, pushing your pen and notebook towards you.
“awee kei, you’d take me in if i was homeless?” you teased, feigning puppy eyes.
“no, i’d leave you there and call the police to get you out of my sight.”
“no you wouldn’t.” you laughed.
“no i wouldn’t.”
you laughed and a small smile splayed on his features as he returned to his book. you keep watching him, the trace of your laugh still there with a smile.
he pulled up from his book to look at you again, “if you ever needed my help i’d help you though.” he confessed, keeping his eyes on your own. now it was your own turn to blush softly. “thank you, kei.” he nodded, a soft smile still beautifully set on his lips.
in quite honesty this might be fate. the cards had been dealt to you beautifully. the stage was set perfectly. the words that he used, you could twist them beautifully into your favor.
“i don’t remember this equation kei.” you called out, turning your book to face him, you leaned forward instead of going around the table for him to explain to you. your ass was off the chair, setting a curve to your figure, your cleavage on display to him.
tsukishima looked up for his eyes to immediately meet with your boobs. you smirked, “eyes up here playboy.”
tsukishima muttered an apology before stealing a glance again and then finally towards you and your notebook.
“uhh that’s the uhm,” he gulped, his face turning redder “well you have to find slope, you’re gonna have to use uhh, rise over run equals the y angle over the x angle which is y to the second pow- dammit y/n”
you feigned innocence, squishing your tits against the table and up again and looked up to him, “what is it? are you okay? oh, kei, baby, you’re face is all red, are you hot?”
tsukishima closed his eyes tightly and opened them again to look up to the light fixtures, “dammit y/n you keep... i- it’s not your fault i just... you’re distracting me when you’re like that.”
“oh?” you giggled, “you’re getting all hot and bothered over little old me?” you continued giggling.
the taint of tsukishima’s blush was so apparent, there was no way to ignore it or try to hide it.
you looked under the table and your heart skipped a beat. the tent on his pants was apparent and growing. there is no way that he go hard over just that, is there? he had to have some kind of hots for you prior for him to react like that, right?
you squeezed you thighs together at the thought, to be caught by tsukishima’s gaze, you giggled and his ears turned red now.
“here’s the deal kei, i’ll help you out,” you started, the expression on tsuki’s face was priceless, there’s no way he heard that right, right? there was no way his beautiful and hot best friend since high school just offered to-
“but you have to help me first, you did say that you’d help me if i ever needed it right?” you continued, cutting off his thoughts.
“uhh, yeah i did say that.”
you smiled at the response.
“put on my bunny outfit that i have over at my apartment and i’ll help you out.” you smirked.
“a what?!?” if anything he didn’t even think you owned a bunny outfit, much less that you’d want him to wear it.
“a bunny outfit dumbass, i’ll put it on first if you wanna know how to put it on correctly, what do you say?” you asked, you gaze clouded with lust and a soft smile played upon your features that was in a way, almost predatory.
what the hell were you playing at? but the suggestion was far too intriguing. but the feeling of the thought of having his best friend suck him off felt wrong, you were his best friend since high school. he himself getting turned on and hard so quickly for you felt wrong. but the tightening in his pants pushed him over the edge that he couldn’t help himself to it. simply the thought of your pretty lips wrapped prettily around his-
“fuck it. i’ll do it.” he said, cutting off his thoughts once again, picking up his bag and standing up.
“a good choice.” you whispered to his ear before he fully stood up and brushing you hand against the bulge in his pants.
a soft groan fell from his lips, “fuck— y/n don’t do that.”
“fine, i guess i’ll save it until we get into my apartment, bunny boy.” you teased.
how you did it, you had no idea. but one thing was for certain, you got tsukishima kei in the palm of you hand to the extent that you were about to see him put on your bunny outfit in a matter of delicious seconds.
#haikyuu !!#haikyuu x reader#semi x reader#semi fluff#semi smut#semi eita#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu smut#semi eita x reader#semi drabble#shiratorizawa#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima smut#tsukishima drabble#karasuno#tsukishima oneshot#tsukishima imagine#semi oneshot#semi imagine
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treacherous (j.p one shot)
PROMPT: based on treacherous by taylor swift. slight enemies to lovers? James Potter and Y/N can’t stand each other until they get to know each other.
A/N: does not follow the timeline at all. the events are not accurate but let’s pretend for the sake of the fic lol.
WARNINGS: mentions of death, a bit of wolfstar, and some sexual tension (brief)
WC: 5.6K+ (this is my longest fic yet omg)
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST
-
treacherous (j.p one shot)
“You’re so goddamn reckless.” James hissed, slamming his fists down on the kitchen table. “You need to wait for my command. This wasn’t a solo mission, Y/N/N. We work as a fucking team around here.”
“If I waited for your command, Prongs,” you replied, rising from your seat. You acknowledged his nickname with a bitter taste in your mouth. You knew you had to listen to James because everyone listens to James but you knew your plan would work. “We wouldn’t have gotten the mission done.”
“You went rogue!”
“But we got it done, right?” you seethed, eye drilling holes in Prongs’ skull. You felt Sirius offer a comforting hand, placing his on top of yours. Your eyes flickered to look at your best friend, features visibly softening. You sighed, slowly feeling yourself come down from your anger. “That’s the important thing, Prongs. I’m done talking about this.”
“Yeah we got it finished but at what cost?” James pushed, not backing down from his dominant exterior. “You could’ve died, Y/N. We don’t trade lives around here.”
“You don’t have to act like you care about my well-being, Potter,” you spat, starting to limp away from the briefing. You sustained some minor injuries because of your decision but you knew you’d do it again if it came down to it. “We all know you just don’t want another person’s blood on your hands.”
It was a low blow. Everyone in the house knew that James was feeling guiltier and guiltier everyday because of the events that happened over the past few months. The McKinnons, the Prewetts, his fight with some Order members— all of it was finally taking a toll on James. Maybe it always did take a toll on him and he just never showed that it did. Nobody really knew what the last straw was but now it was obvious— James Potter was tired, worn out, almost defeated in nature.
Yeah, what you said was a low blow.
James gulped, demeanor changing after your words rattled the room. Remus looked at James apologetically, not really knowing what to say. He didn’t expect that from you, nobody did. Lily cleared her throat, fixing the scattered parchment on her side of the table. Sirius stood up and patted James on the back, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze.
“Right, uhm..” he started, blinking back the effect of your words. “We can revisit this some other time. Great job today.”
James left the room without another word, your voice taunting him as he walked further and further away from the team. Is that what you really think of him? A leader, if that, who only cared about not being the person responsible for another death? Did you think that he didn’t care about you? That you were just a number to him?
Obviously you didn’t. You knew James Potter was a good man, deep down. You could see it in the way he put everyone’s needs before his. He wakes up every morning and gets everything done so the rest of you wouldn’t be burdened with such mundane things. James Potter cooked meals, cleaned the house you all shared, and bought groceries on the weekends because he thinks that you all fighting with him is something he can never repay you for. James Potter thinks that your trust as a team— as a family— is the most important thing in the universe and he’s so thankful that he has you all by his side, even if the whole world disagrees with your cause. James Potter is a good man.
You had a loud mouth. You found yourself, more times than you’d like to admit, scolding yourself after you let your mouth run amuck. This was one of those times. You let your anger get the best of you. The only reason why you even got angry with James in the first place was his lack of trust in you. Did he not think you could complete the task successfully?
“Y/N?” A voice from outside of your room called. You tried to get up from your bed, cursing as the pain shot through your right leg. “Hey, you in there?”
“Yeah,” you yelled out, realizing that it would be better for them to let themselves in rather than you try to open it for them. “Come in.”
Sirius entered, chuckling at your pained expression as you sat up in your bed. You glared at him, propping your injured leg on top of a pillow. “You good there, sweetheart?”
“Just dandy.”
He sat next to you, careful not to touch your leg. He smiled at you, sadly, and you knew what was coming next. A lecture as to why you should apologize to James or at the very least take his point of view under consideration. This was almost normal, and it was definitely expected. You and Sirius grew close, attached to the hip at times, and he was the one who would typically talk some sense into you. You knew that he and James were the blueprint of what an everlasting friendship should look like so you listened to him. Rarely were you ever the first one to apologize, though, but you knew this time was going to be one of those times.
“What you said to James..” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “I think he kinda took it to heart, Y/N.”
“I know,” you sighed, acknowledging your mistake. “I don’t know why I even said that.”
“You don’t like to use your brain when you’re angry.” Sirius responds, laughing slightly. You push his shoulder playfully. “Just apologize to him, Y/N. You know he means well.”
“I know he does.”
“So I’ll leave you to it then,” he announced, getting up to leave your room. “He’s in his room, locked himself in there since the meeting.”
Ouch. You felt the guilt start to eat you up. Sirius shot you a warm smile before shutting the door behind him. Groaning, you lifted yourself up, trying to ignore the swelling in your leg. Was it the smartest idea to walk on an injured leg? No, but you were never one to have smart ideas anyway and today’s events made that clear.
You started to make your way down to James’ room but stopped when you saw him exiting the bathroom. You began to walk towards him, gasping in pain when your foot landed the wrong way.
“Goddamnit, James!” you shuffled towards him, gaining some speed. He stopped to see who was calling him. His face paled when he realized it was you and continued to walk towards his room. “Will you wait for me?”
James stopped in his tracks, feeling bad that you were chasing him with a bad leg. He waited patiently as you limped towards him, an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want, Y/N?”
You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone he was using. No matter how many times you and James argued and were at each other’s throats, his harsh tone always surprised you. He raised his voice, yeah, sure, but this— this was different. You tried to ignore it, knowing that you probably deserved this. “I just wanted to say sorry for what I said earlier.”
He froze up, looking down at his feet. He glanced over at your leg, red with bruises littered over your skin. God you were lucky you didn’t die, he thought. James shrugged, “I don’t care, Y/N. Is that all?”
“Well, blimey,” you snorted, already putting up your harsh exterior, “I was trying to be nice. Get that stick out your ass.”
“Are you done?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
That was it.
James walked away and entered his room before you even moved. You were left to crawl your way back to your room, quite literally. Half way through, the pain in your leg traveled to your hip and you gave up on walking. Remus found you dragging your body across the carpet and took it upon himself to carry you back to your bedroom. You thanked him, half-heartedly, not being able to forget James’ hurt expression from your sorry-excuse of an apology.
-
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were all supposed to win the fight. You were supposed to reconcile and have a drink at the house, continuing to dance the night away. You weren’t supposed to lose.
Half of the people you knew were gone. Poof. Like they never existed.
You, Lily, and James stayed in the Potters’ home, resting after a long day of fighting. Dumbledore left to check on the Order, or what was left of them. Molly and Arthur joined him. Peter was— Merlin knows where. Sirius left to check on Remus. The world seemed so quiet. Empty.
“It’s not the end,” Lily tried to say, looking between you and James. She paced the floor, unsure if she even believed her own words.
There hasn’t been much spoken between the ones who survived. You started to wonder if you were one of the lucky one who survived or if this fate was more unlucky given the circumstances. You lost people you called your family. You all did.
This was a battle none of you expected. It was a surprise attack on the Order during a time when you all had your guards down. One minute, you were all in the backyard, excited as the Weasley’s announced another addition to their already large family. People were dancing, cheering, drinking, and for a moment it seemed normal.
And then they came. They slaughtered everyone that they could. You were lucky enough to get out before it got too crazy. You ushered the young kids into the room, casting protective charms as you held onto Percy Weasley with your other hand. You watched people fall. You heard people scream in terror as they were being tortured. You shielded the kids from looking out the window, afraid that if they were to see something so traumatizing, they would never recover. You were sure it would take years before you would.
“I’m gonna help Euphemia out,” Lily announced, getting up from her seat. You knew there wasn’t much that Euphemia needed help with, Lily just felt restless and she wanted to do something that she could control.
James nodded silently, staring at his shaking hands. There have only been a handful of moments where you’ve seen James Potter— confident, self-assured, James Potter— doubt himself or be nervous.
The first time was when he put on the Sorting Hat in your first year and he pleaded the tattered hat to place him in Gryffindor, though the hat knew better than to place him anywhere else. Then, second year came around and you four found out that Remus was a werewolf. You accidentally overheard their conversation, and it confirmed the suspicions you’ve had for a year. The third time was in fifth year when Sirius made the stupidest mistake of his life and told Snape about the Whomping Willow. He was afraid he’d lose his second family because of it, and he knew that Remus’ anger was justified. And the last time, before today, that you’ve ever seen James Potter nervous was in seventh year. It was the day after his date with Lily— a date that took him years to convince her to go on— and he realized that they were not compatible at all. Poor bloke was afraid to hurt Lily’s feelings and when he finally told her, she laughed and said, “I know, Potter. I’m glad you see it now.”
Now, you were alone with a terrified James Potter and you didn’t know what to do. You stared at him from across the room, unsure of your next step. You cleared your throat, “Do you need me to do anything, Potter?”
“Huh?” he looked up, eyes weary and mind jumbled. He registered your question and he shook his head, “No, I’m alright. Um, are you going to be staying here tonight?”
You gulped, “Yeah, if that’s alright. I-I don’t really have a place to stay, but if you want me to leave I’m sure I can stay with Remus and Sirius.”
“No, no, it’s perfectly fine,” James replied, quickly, getting up from his seat, “I’m sure mum and dad won’t mind. Please, make yourself at home.”
“I appreciate that,” you sent him a tight-lipped smile and rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes, ignoring the pain that shot up your leg with every move.
“I’m gonna help mum.”
“Okay.”
He left you in the room, rushing to help his mother, but you had a feeling it was to save the both of you from the awkwardness of the situation. Sighing, you began to make your way to your room upstairs. You were half way out the room when suddenly, the room was filled with your friends. Some of the remaining members of the Order popped in, stopping you from completing your plans.
“Well, welcome back everyone,” you remarked, sitting on the couch. “Nice to see you.”
James, Lily, and Euphemia all entered once they heard the commotion. James stayed by the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Dumbledore take center. Lily and Euphemia sat beside you, on opposite sides. Euphemia gave your leg a light squeeze and a kiss on your temple.
“As you all know, today’s attack caused mass casualty,” your old professor started, eyes flickering to empty spots in the room that the old members used to occupy. “To prevent such things, we will assign teams to designated areas. We can no longer put all our eggs in one basket. We need to prepare.”
Dumbledore continued, “Euphemia, you and Fleamont stay with Mad-Eye. He needs your expertise. Remus and Sirius, your flat is near the Black family home, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Sirius replied, “Wanted to be close, just in case.”
Regulus. Sirius wanted to be close to look after Regulus.
The old wizard nodded, “Very well. You two stay there and make note of any movement. We suspect they’re having meetings there. Lily, Dorcas, and Peter, you three will be taking care of Hogwarts students who live in the muggle world. They’re in Hogwarts for sanctuary, but since Minerva and myself are going to be preoccupied, we need you to make sure they’re safe.”
“What a reunion, aye gang?” Dorcas chuckled, though her laugh was empty. Lily snorted, shoving her lightly as a move of endearment.
“James and Y/N, we need you two here. This will be our headquarters.”
Sirius scoffed, “Professor, are you sure you’d want to pair Prongs and Y/N/N? We’ve already lost a lot of Order members and I’m afraid that if you pair them, we’ll lose one more. One of them will end up killing the other.”
“Shut it, Pads,” you glared, scrunching your nose, “I’m sure Potter and I can be civil.”
“I can be,” James added, side-eyeing you.
“What does that mean?” you questioned, squinting your eyes at the boy by the door. You began to get up but Euphemia stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“James,” she said, warningly.
“Alright,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, calling the attention back to him, “I expect you all to be at your posts by tonight. Stay safe, everyone. Our numbers are dwindling by the hour.”
By 11PM, the house was empty. It was only you and James left. You locked yourself in the comfort of your room, staring wordlessly at the ceiling. The house was unusually quiet. There was no loud laughter coming from the living room— four boys who had to grow up too fast. You sighed, swinging your legs down the side of your bed, wincing as you forgot about your injuries.
“Fuck me,” you muttered, closing your eyes for a moment until the pain subsided. Once it became bearable, you slipped on your house shoes and made your way down the stairs. You tried to tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to wake James and go through another awkward encounter. However, once you got to the entrance of the kitchen, you realized your efforts made no sense as James leaned against the cold counter, a cup of tea in hand, and his glasses fogged by the steam from his drink.
His eyes flickered over to where you stood, suddenly making you feel self-conscious. You were wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a large t-shirt that you were sure once belonged to Sirius. James raised his cup a bit as a sign of acknowledgement.
You smiled awkwardly and poured yourself a glass of water, “What are you doing up?”
“I reckon for the same reason you are,” he replied, taking a sip from his tea. James snickered, “Nice shirt.”
“It’s Padfoot’s,” you chuckled, “Don’t tell him I still have it.”
“Actually,” James started, placing his drink down. He faced you, “It’s mine. I let him borrow it and I asked for it a few times now. He keeps telling me he’ll give it to me later but I had a feeling he was stalling because he lost it. Mystery solved.”
You blushed, “Sorry, did you want it back?”
“No, it’s alright. Looks good on you,” he coughed, ducking his head to hide the slight blush on his cheeks, “Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
James nodded, “Yeah, me either. You can sit with me for a bit, if you want.”
You pondered it for a moment until you finally decided that a conversation with James Potter was better than staring at an empty ceiling for the rest of the night. You limped to the seat in front of him, clutching your glass of water like a lifeline.
“Are you still hurt?” James questioned, getting up to help you to your seat. He held your arm as you sat on the chair. Once you were situated, he knelt beside you, inspecting your leg, “You are still hurt. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“It’s not a big deal,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment. “We all had bigger things to worry about.”
“Why didn't you just cast a spell on it?”
“I’m not the best healer around,” you admitted, looking down at him.
If it was any other circumstance, you would not have admitted your shortcomings to anyone— especially not James Potter. But perhaps it was the toll that the war had put upon you or the tiredness in your system… Or perhaps it was the way he was staring at you from his position on the floor, eyes wide with worry with the candlelight reflecting off his glasses and the look of absolute beauty on his face, that made you become so brutally honest.
“And why didn’t you ask one of us to help you?”
You scoffed, “Well, none of you are licensed healers, either. I figured I’d just live with it until it healed the muggle way.”
“Always so prideful, you are,” he chuckled, pulling out his wand. He muttered a simple incantation and then studied your once injured limb. “There. Better?”
You looked down at it, pleasantly surprised that it was indeed better. You nodded, a skeptical look on your face. James dusted off his pajama pants and made his way over to the seat he occupied before. You tilted your head, “Where did you learn that?”
“I learned for Remus,” James said, “After his transformations, sometimes he would still be in pain from turning so I learned a few things to help him. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn’t but Remus always says that just the thought that I wanted to help him helped with his recovery. Load of rubbish, I say but who am I to decide that, right?”
“Wow.”
James laughed at your reaction, drinking from his tea once more. A playful smile appeared on his lips, “I do have a heart, you know. I’m sure everyone else can see that but you.”
You rolled your eyes, “I know you have a heart, Potter. That’s not why I can’t stand you.”
“Enlighten me then.”
“Well, Godric, where do I start?” you hummed, a laugh escaping your throat. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, smirking at your answer. You bit your lip, “Let’s see… you’re arrogant, cocky, obnoxiously loud. You act like you know everything, all the time.”
His eyebrows shot up. James’ tongue poked out to dampen his cracked lips, “Don’t hold back, I guess.”
“Shut up,” you chuckled, “Your turn. Why do you hate me?”
“Because you hate me.”
“Come off it,” you stared at him, shaking your head. “Why do you really hate me?”
“Seriously, that’s it. I only act like I don’t like you because you don’t like me. I don’t actually hate you, you know.”
You were in shock. Your voice came out as a whisper, “Really?”
“Really yeah,” he shrugged, as if his confession was nothing, “You love Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, and all our friends like they’re family to you. I can tell you’re a genuinely good person with how you treat the most important people in my life. I can’t hate a good person.”
You pursed your lips, “Well, I only dislike you because you act like I’m not a good witch.”
“What?”
“Come on, James,” you gestured with your hands. “You act like I’m a bloody awful witch and an even worse person. Always have since we were in Hogwarts. I just always assumed you thought I wasn’t good enough.”
James was baffled, “Are you being serious right now?”
“I mean, yeah,” you began to explain, thinking back to the many moments in the past where he made you feel that way. “I remember when we first all found out about Remus. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone but you still followed me for two months to make sure I didn’t say anything because you didn’t trust me. Or whenever Sirius would tell you to ask me for help on a prank that required some advanced charms, you would refuse to let me participate like I couldn’t possibly be any help to you. Or more recently, when we had that task to do and you blew up on me for not following the intended plan. You don’t think I’m capable.”
“Y/N, I never thought I made you feel that way,” James frowned. “I was just really scared for Remus. Even as a second year, I knew that he was going to be my best friend for life and I just wanted to protect him. I didn’t let Sirius drag you into our pranks because I knew you were aiming for a spotless record at Hogwarts. I didn’t wanna get you in trouble because honestly, a prank that didn’t end with at least one of us in detention was a failed prank.”
“Oh,” you squeaked, “I didn’t know that was where your mind was.”
“Yeah,” James continued, “A-and as for the last task, I just didn’t want you hurt. We’ve lost enough people already. I’d hate to lose you, too.”
“Careful, Prongs,” you teased, swirling the water around in your glass, “You’re gonna make me think you actually like me.”
“I do, yeah,” he admitted, “I’m quite fond of you.”
The both of you stayed silent after those words left his lips. It wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. It was the first time you two had a proper conversation and you learned things about each other that you never imagined. James continued to sip on his tea and you stared at each other from across the counter. You smiled at him, admiring the redness of his cheeks.
“Well,” you finally said, standing up. You placed the empty glass in the sink and made your way to the stairs, “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”
James smiled, showing off his perfect teeth, “Goodnight, Y/N/N.”
“Goodnight, Prongs,” you returned his smile, turning your back on him. Before you reached the first step, you turned back around, “James?”
“Mhm?”
“I think I can grow quite fond of you too.”
James’ eyes flickered from his tea to your face, his cheeks completely flushed pink by now. He bit the corner of his bottom lip, trying to suppress his smile. He chuckled, shaking his head, making his curls bounce around. You willed yourself to remember that image because it was the first time that you truly saw James Potter for who he was.
-
Over the next few weeks, you and James began to grow closer. Your late night conversations almost became mandatory. He began to leave a cup of tea for you across from him where you sat the first night. It took him precisely three nights to finally make your cup the way you liked it without being told. He started to light the fireplace in the living room after seeing goosebumps rise on your skin a week and a half after the first night. Then by the third week of your traditions, he began to walk you up to your bedroom door to wish you a goodnight there.
Sirius and Remus didn’t come to check in until a month later. Sirius, as always, made himself feel at home by raiding the kitchen and eating the food that you and James made earlier. Remus laughed from the living room, muttering about how Sirius acts like he doesn’t feed him.
Sirius sat beside James, peering over the pile of parchment on the side of his desk. He nudged his best friend’s shoulder, “Surprised you and Y/N haven’t killed each other yet.”
James blushed, “She’s not so bad, Pads.”
“Oh, I know that,” he hummed, taking a bite out of the biscuit in his hand, “Glad you know it now, too.”
“I never thought she was bad,” James frowned, placing his quill down to properly talk to Sirius, “Why does everyone think that I do?”
“Prongsie, darling, you would always shut up whenever she’d walk in. You’d avoid her like the plague.”
“I just knew she didn’t like me, that’s all. Figured that if I shut up, she’ll see that I’m not so bad.”
“Huh… Why did you want her to like you so bad anyway?” Sirius asked, sitting on the desk now, disregarding the work that James had done. He waited patiently for James to answer, but the answer never came. Instead, James’ cheeks flushed pink and the boy tried to hide his flustered expression by pretending to massage his temples. Sirius’ eyes widened and he jumped off the desk with excitement plastered over his face, “You fancy her! Merlin, how did I not see it before?! You fancy Y/N/N!”
“Will you—” James shushed Sirius, pulling him down by the fabric of his shirt. He was starting to draw attention to himself. James saw Remus stare at the two boys, puzzled as to why Sirius was running around like a dog. James wouldn’t be surprised if he turned into Padfoot just to swing his tail around. “Will you calm down?”
“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, his lips still twisted in a large grin, “You fancy Y/N/N.”
“Yeah, I do,” James was embarrassed now. He didn’t expect to come clean to Sirius like this— not in the middle of a war. “I’ve always thought she was gorgeous, you know, even back in Hogwarts! I just never did anything about it because she hated me. I mean, really, genuinely, hated me. Then we got to know each other over this time and— I don’t know, Pads. She’s great.”
Sirius smiled so hard, James thought his lips would tear apart, “Yeah, she bloody is. Are you gonna tell her?”
His eyes widened at his best friend’s words as he frantically shook his head, “Merlin, no! Of course not! We’re in the middle of a war, Pads, and I’m sure she barely tolerates me. I doubt she’ll like me.”
Before Sirius could reply, you appeared behind the two boys, an eyebrow raised, “What are we talking about gentlemen?”
“Nothing!” James exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck in fear, “Sirius was just saying how he needed to get home. Right now.”
“Is this how you talk to your best friend that you haven’t seen in a month, Prongs?”
Remus entered as well, laughing as he spoke, “Come on, Sirius. We do have to head home now. Nice to see you both.”
“Always a pleasure, Moony,” you smiled, hugging them both before they apparated out of the house. You poked James’ cheek, “So what were you really talking about?”
“Guy stuff,” he lied, returning his focus back to the parchment that Sirius messed up.
“Guy stuff?” you snorted, grabbing his jaw and turning his head to look at you. James visibly gulped, all the color draining from his face. You cocked your head, not letting go of his face, “We’re lying to each other now, Potter? Shame.”
“‘M not lying,” he said, voice shaky. You were so close to him. He could smell the strawberry chapstick you dabbed on your lips. Godric, your lips looked so kissable.
“Yes you are,” you tutted, your palm now cupping his jaw. You didn’t even realize how intimate this move was, too busy looking into his eyes to notice your movements, “I can tell.”
“How?”
“You can’t look me in the eye,” you stated, eyes flickering to the different features on his face. You never noticed the small freckle on the bridge of his nose or the small, fading scar on the left side of his lips. “Whenever a good man is lying, he can never look at someone in the eye. So tell me, James, what were you guys talking about?”
James still refused to look at you in the eye. He couldn’t bring himself to because he knew you were right. The minute his eyes met yours, he would crack like an egg. Instead, he focused it on your parted lips, feeling your breath tickle the tip of his nose as you spoke. He mumbled, “I can’t tell you that.”
You didn’t know what came over you but when you spoke again, your voice came out as a sultry tone— breathy and slowly dragging your words, “Please.”
James’ eyes immediately jumped to look at yours once he heard the tone of your voice. He’d never heard you use that tone before and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him weak in the knees. And for the sixth time in your life, you saw the nervous James Potter again. In a moment of weakness, he spoke, “You. We were talking about you.”
“Me?” you asked, shocked by his revelation. Your hand that was once cupping his face was now hanging off his shoulder. You twirled a curl on the nape of his neck around your index finger, slightly tugging it. It took all of James’ willpower not to groan at the pressure. “What could you have possibly been saying about me?”
“How utterly insufferable you are,” James nudged his nose with yours, tilting his head the slightest bit. His tongue poked out of his lips, licking them in both nervousness and excitement.
“I’m only insufferable because you make me this way,” you tilted your head the opposite direction. Your lips were moving towards each other with every breath you took.
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You let your lips ghost over his, before pulling away. You opened your eyes to taunt him, a mischievous smirk on your face. You pulled away from him, untangling his hair from your finger.
“See, you’re proving my point. You’re insufferable,” James said.
And with that, he pulled you by your waist, a surprised squeal left your mouth. He placed you on his lap before he kissed you. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His lips melted with yours, tongues shying away from each other until he finally had the courage to caress yours with his. James squeezed your hips, pushing you down his lap. A soft moan escaped your throat and that brought James back to reality.
Before things could escalate, he pulled away— lips bruised and completely out of breath. You smiled at him, biting your bottom lip. He returned the favor, running a hand through his hair.
“I didn’t want to continue without telling you,” James confessed, “I like you. A lot, actually. I don’t want you to think this means nothing to me because it does. I-I hope it means something to you, too. If it doesn’t, let me know because I don’t want to do this if I’m just setting myself up for failure here.”
Your features softened at his words. You cupped his face in your hands, once again, and kissed the tip of his nose, then each cheek, then his forehead, and finally, his lips. It was an innocent one, less steamy and passionate than the first, but lovely regardless. You intertwined your fingers with his, “This means something to me, too, Potter. You’re not the only one who feels that way.”
“Really?” he asked, now grinning widely. He connected his forehead with yours, chuckling, “Who would’ve thought we’d get here?”
“Not me,” you giggled, “However, don’t think I won’t bicker with you now that I know you’re an incredible kisser.”
“I didn’t expect you to go easy on me,” James laughed, wrapping his arms around you. “But now, I can just kiss you to shut you up.”
You pretended to think about it for a moment with a fond smile, “Hmm.. I suppose that’ll work.”
James pulled you closer to his body, looking up at you as you sat on his lap. He murmured into the skin of your neck, “See? Insufferable.”
#frances writes#frances song fics#frances x taylor swift x harry potter#James Potter#james potter fanfic#james potter one shot#james potter imagine#sirius black#remus lupin#lily evans#james potter x reader#james potter x yn#james potter x y/n#the marauders#the marauders imagine#the marauders oneshot#the marauders fanfic#Harry Potter#harry potter imagine
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Forever and Ever, Ch. 6: Surprises, Sweets, and Sapphires
Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series
When Tom comes back from filming, the next stages of wedding planning continue: cake tasting, Tom’s suit fitting, and a special lunch with Nikki
Warnings: some sexual themes/references
Word Count: 3600
Series Masterlist
Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist
“Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
Lucky we're in love in every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday”
Lucky, Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat
A/N: Special thank you to @duskholland for proofreading this and for listening to me talk about this chapter for the past like three months whoops
~~~
You threw the front door open, gasping for air as you came to a sudden halt. Proudly, you announced, “I won!”
Less than a second later, Harrison came sprinting up behind you. “You cheated.”
“Nope.” You shook your head, making your way to the kitchen for some water.
“You shoved me into a hedge. You cheated.” He repeated, proceeding to take off the scattered leaves that had clung to his running clothes.
You rolled your eyes at him and took a large drink from your water bottle. Your morning run with Harrison would be nothing without a little competition, a.k.a. racing each other for the last couple hundred meters and shoving each other out of the way to win. You still had a bruise on your knee from when he tripped you last week.
“Y/N had a solid five-second lead,” Harry stated from where he sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone and enjoying a cup of tea.
Taking notice of Harry in the room, you casually made your way into the living room. You wandered to the far side of the room, checking behind the couch, doing your best to act casually about what you were looking for… or rather who you were looking for.
“Missing something?” Harry asked, eyeing you with a teasing smirk on his face.
“He’s not here.” Harrison laughed from the kitchen, “You know Tom flies in tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but I know how you all get the day before Tom’s scheduled to arrive.” You said, narrowing your eyes at Harry to see if he showed any sign that his brother may in fact be here already.
Tom has surprised you by coming back early four times over the course of your relationship. And every time, it was a scheme crafted and executed by himself, Harry, and Harrison— sometimes Sam, Tuwaine, Nikki, and Dom even pitched in.
The first time it happened was definitely the most notable.
It was just another Friday night for you, and you were spending it by watching Say Anything with Harrison (it was your turn to choose a movie). You weren’t really focused on the movie- you’d seen it a thousand times; you were distracted thinking of Tom. It had been over four weeks since you’d seen him in person, and, since you’ve only been dating a few short months, it felt like an eternity. You weren’t sure how you could ever grow accustomed to it, but you knew it would be worth it once you were in his arms again. Your heart soared just thinking about holding the love of your life again tomorrow. You were so in your own head that you didn’t hear the front door quietly open and close.
“Haz?” You turned to your brother, your back turned from the entryway.
“Yeah?” He asked. You looked down at your hands nervously, oblivious to how Harrison was watching Tom tiptoe behind the couch, staying out of your eye line, while Harry got out his phone, filming it. Harry gave Tom the go ahead, and just as he was about to surprise you, you spoke up again.
“I love Tom.” You blurted out, feeling your heart race in anticipation as you finally said what you’ve been holding back for weeks. All eyes fell on you, though you were only aware of Harrison’s. Tom was frozen in his half-crouch, trying to comprehend what he just heard. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Is it too soon to tell him tomo-”
You were cut off by a loud clanging behind you. Your eyes immediately landed on Tom, who was quite literally on the other side of the couch from you; you didn’t even process that it was Harry dropping his phone that caught your attention in the first place.
“Tom, I-” You started, but he cut you off, leaning over the couch to kiss you as if Harrison and Harry weren’t even there.
He pulled back, a smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
And then, the second time, Tom surprised you at the pub and you choked on a beer in shock. The time after that, Nikki coincidentally had an extra place setting at the Holland family dinner that you and Harrison were invited to. The last time, you were getting in your car to go on a grocery run with Harry when Tom jumped up from the back seat.
It was safe to say you were still on edge, knowing it could happen at any moment… if it did happen, that is. You just had a feeling that something was up, even though Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine seemed to act like it was a normal day. In fact, none of them even left the house, unless you counted your morning run with Harrison.
As you got ready for bed later that night, you frowned a little at the empty sheets before you. All day, you’d hoped Tom would be home early; at least, you just had to sleep one more time alone before he was back. You slipped on one of Tom’s sweatshirts as your sleepshirt for the night and crawled into the cold bed. You checked the door one last time, just to make sure, before turning off your bedside lamp and putting your phone on the nightstand. Snuggling down in bed with your back to the door, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.
After a few minutes of lying motionless in the dark, you gave up on trying to sleep for now. Grabbing your phone, you blinked sleepily as you turned down the brightness and unlocked it. You went straight for your photos app, knowing exactly which video you wanted to watch. You scrolled back three years to find the video of Tom surprising you for the first time, the very first time you both said: “I love you”. You quietly said the words aloud to yourself, hoping that maybe he could hear it, wherever he was in the world.
“I love you, too.” You heard a whisper from the doorway. Your light flicked on, and you hurried out of your bed and into Tom’s arms. He held you tightly, not wanting to let go of you ever again.
“I missed you so much.” Tom murmured.
You pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes again, your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I missed you, too.” You leaned in and kissed him, pouring every bit of relief to have him back into the kiss. You broke the kiss, just to mumble against his lips, “So much,” before kissing him again.
After a moment of being completely enraptured in each other’s embrace again, he stepped back, a sheepish look on his face, “Can we continue this in a moment? I really have to piss.”
“Ever the romantic.” You teased. As you climbed into bed again, Tom laughed and fully brought his luggage into the room, since he had dropped it to embrace you in the doorway. He left it all in the corner (and you made a note that tomorrow would be laundry day) before he disappeared to the bathroom. He came back a couple of moments later and went to grab out some pajama pants to change into.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him with a small smirk, but his back was turned to you so he didn’t catch the look on your face.
“Getting pajamas, love.” He laughed. You let out a small sigh before taking off his sweatshirt that was wrapped around you.
“Your fiance is waiting.” You stated, throwing the sweatshirt at him as he turned around to face you.
“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”
~~~
“We need a pool.” You could hear Harry say from the kitchen as you and Tom made your way downstairs the next morning.
“No, indoor gym- that’s the way to go.” Harrison insisted.
“What are you two on about?” Tom asked, his hand leaving yours to pour two cups of tea, one for you and one for him, while you popped some bread in the toaster for the two of you.
“Renovations for the house.” Your brother said, “I think we could use an indoor gym a lot more than a pool.”
“You know, actually, we need soundproof walls.” Harry joked, making Tom’s face turn red.
“I’m the one right next to them.” Harrison let out a groan, throwing his head back dramatically.
“You should both know by now to stay clear of the house when I come home.” Tom shrugged, and you nodded in agreement.
“Tuwaine learned after the first time.” You stated, taking a sip of your tea.
“Fucking animals.” Harrison muttered, shaking his head, before finishing off his tea. He cleared his breakfast spot and left the room without another word.
“So, when do you two get to do the wedding cake testing and can I come?” Harry asked cheekily.
“No.” You and Tom said simultaneously. With a grumble about you two being ‘no fun’, he left you both alone in the kitchen.
Sitting down to eat your very fancy breakfast of toast with nutella, Tom looked a little lost in thought. You waited a moment for him to speak up, but when he just munched on his toast quietly, you asked, “Is everything alright?”
“When do we get to do the cake tasting?” Tom asked, completely serious in his question.
“We can call some bakeries today and see what’s open this week?” You offered, and he nodded in agreement, taking a bite of his breakfast. Leaning in next to Tom, you pulled your phone out and began to look through Pinterest under the wedding cakes tag.
“I like that one.” He pointed out a beautiful three-tiered cake with delicate roses angled around the cake.
“The roses are a nice touch.” You hummed in agreement, adding the picture to a saved album. You paused your scrolling on another cake, a simpler two-tier with leaves intricately placed on the sides, “How about this one?”
“I like the roses more, but add it to the album for ideas.” He admitted, and you did just that.
“It just looks smoother. Maybe we can do both? Roses and a smooth finish.” You suggested, and Tom nodded.
“Sounds perfect.”
By some stroke of luck (or Tom name dropping himself while pretending to be his assistant), you two managed to get a cake tasting appointment in just a few days, which lined up perfectly to be just hours before Tom’s suit fitting. With a few decorative cake ideas already in mind, you both felt decently prepared about this next step in wedding planning.
“Are you absolutely positive you don’t need me to come?” Harrison asked. He was practically itching to put on his shoes and leave with you and Tom right now. “I’m the best man. I should be there.”
“I’m the photographer. Who will capture this moment if I’m not there?” Harry questioned, and Tom furrowed his eyebrows at his younger brother.
“Mum’s coming.” Tom stated as if it was obvious.
“You invited mum and not me?” A sense of betrayal shone in Harry’s eyes.
“You’ll just have to wait for the wedding if you want cake.” He laughed, opening the front door.
As you and Tom stepped outside hand in hand, you heard Tuwaine shout behind you both, “Bring the leftovers to your fitting!”
“We’ll never hear the end of this.” Tom muttered when you two were in the safety of his car.
“They’ll live.” You joked. Holding onto his hand loosely as he pulled the car away from the house. “Do I get to see what your suit looks like?”
“Not unless I get to see your dress early.” He laughed. As he stopped at a light, he brought your hand up to his lips to kiss you delicately.
“That’s bad luck.”
“And who says it’s not bad luck the other way around?” He raised his eyebrows at you, laughing softly. “You’re going to look like a princess in that dress, and you're going to make me cry at the altar, darling.”
“Happy tears, hopefully.” You teased lightly, even though you both knew he was being absolutely serious.
Tom just sent a smile your way, continuing the drive, before adding, “I really am the luckiest man to be marrying you.”
“You’re such a sap.” You said lovingly, making him laugh. “But I really am the luckiest girl. I can’t wait for our forever to start.”
“Forever and ever.”
When you two arrived, Nikki was already there. The three of you went through the process of ordering which cakes you’d like to try and speaking with the head baker about styles and designs. As you all sipped on champagne and waited for the baker to return with the cakes, Nikki spoke up.
“I never thought my Tom would grow up to have pink roses on his wedding cake.”
“What’s that mean?” Tom asked through a laugh, trying to hide how his ears tinted pink.
“I remember you going on and on about how you wanted a red and blue wedding cake.” She knew exactly what she was doing, and you could tell by Tom’s face that he had hoped she’d forgotten that childhood detail.
“I was seven. Of course I wanted a Spider-Man cake.” Tom insisted, his hand finding yours underneath the table. Whether he was doing it out of nerves or embarrassment, you weren’t entirely sure, but you intertwined your fingers with his and squeezed his hand reassuringly. It took you a moment to realize that all he really wanted was to hold you in any way possible.
“You were eleven.” Nikki corrected.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do pink roses then. Red’s always been more of your color.” You teased your fiance, and he looked at you, playfully unimpressed.
“Time to redo the wedding. We need it to be red and blue.” Tom joked, taking a sip of his champagne.
The baker came back with a tray of assorted cakes, a bright, yet nervous smile on her face. You could tell that she wanted to impress prospecting clients, but the way she eyed Tom was a dead giveaway that she knew exactly who he was. She set down the pieces of cake on the table, explaining each one- chocolate with cappuccino mousse, pink champagne with vanilla buttercream, lemon cake with a limoncello buttercream, and a classic fruitcake, extra boozy.
“I’ve never been a fan of fruitcake.” Tom admitted as the baker left the three of you alone.
“It’s traditional.” You reasoned, “Besides, it can be the top tier so it’s the smallest.”
As you took a bite of the fruitcake, which had to be the best and booziest fruitcake you’ve ever tasted, Tom turned to his mother, “What kind of cake did you and dad have at your wedding?”
“What kind do you think?” Nikki laughed, taking a bite of her fruitcake piece.
Tom shuddered, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him. Holding out a forkful of your fruitcake to him, you teased, “Come on, you big baby, just try it. It’s incredible.”
Without any objections, he did as told. You watched as he bit back a smile at the taste. “It’s not the worst thing ever.”
“Uhuh, that’s what I thought.” You nodded, helping yourself to some of the chocolate cake. The second it hit your tongue, you knew you wanted it as a part of the actual wedding cake. It was the perfect balance of chocolate and espresso flavors, and you just wanted more of it.
“Shit, that’s a good cake.” Tom said beside you, having just had a bite of the chocolate as well. He barely got the words out before he went for another bite. With a mouthful of chocolate cake, he turned to you, “We have to get this one.”
“Definitely.” You agreed.
If you thought the chocolate cake was perfection, the pink champagne one was a slice of heaven. The lemon one, while it was the best lemon cake you had ever eaten, just couldn’t compare.
And, as quickly as you all had tried (more like, eaten) the cakes, you had decided on the flavors: chocolate as the bottom-most tier, pink champagne in the middle, and a small fruit cake tier perched on top. Thanks to your saved images on the Hollosterfield Webbing Pinterest board, you both knew a three-tiered, smooth white cake with pink flowers trickling down the side was how you wanted your wedding cake to be designed.
After everything was finalized with the baker, the three of you exited the bakery and made your way to the cars outside. Aloud, Tom pondered, “I wonder if they’ll let us come back and sample some flavors again. We didn’t get to try the red velvet.”
“We’ll end up with a million wedding cakes if we sample any more.” You teased, and he just shrugged.
“That doesn’t sound like a problem.”
“Are you off to your suit fitting?” Nikki asked Tom, when the three of you came to a stop in front of Tom’s car and Nikki’s. He nodded in response.
“I’ve got to drop Y/N off at home, and then I’ll meet the boys at the tailors. They’re probably already there waiting for me.” He admitted sheepishly, making Nikki shake her head.
“I can drive you home, Y/N.” She offered. “And we can stop for lunch, too.”
“I’d love-” You began, but Tom cut you off.
“Mum, are you trying to steal my fiancee?” There was a small, overdramatic pout on his lips, and you rolled your eyes playfully at his antics.
“Oh no, you’ve uncovered my master plan.” Nikki said, sarcastically.
Laughing, you turned to Tom and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Go get yourself a hot ass suit.”
“A hot ass suit? So I can’t get a vomit green suit?” He joked.
“Preferably no vomit green.” You stated, and Tom leaned in to give you a chaste kiss.
“I’ll see you at home.” He whispered to you, giving you one last peck on the lips before he stepped away from you to go to his car.
“Don’t miss me too much.” You blew him a kiss, and he overdramatically pretended to catch it. He was a dork, but he was your dork- and in a few months, he’d officially be your dork forever.
Just over an hour later, you and Nikki had finished eating your lunch, but you found yourselves still enjoying your chat away from the others; it was a rare occasion that it was ever just the two of you.
“Thank you for this, Nikki.” You told her with a smile.
“You don’t have to thank me. You’re family, now.” She reassured you. She paused for a moment, “I wanted to give you something.”
“Oh, Nikki-“ You started, but your voice got caught in your throat as she slid a small, dark blue velvet box across the table. Slowly, under her anxious and watchful eyes, you opened it. On a soft white cushion inside sat a pair of sapphire stud earrings, encased by small, beautiful diamonds. You were at a loss for words as you gazed at the brilliant jewelry before you.
“When Dom proposed to me, my engagement ring had two sapphires— my birthstone, and, when we got married and I got my wedding ring, I stopped wearing it. Then, Tom proposed to you, and I had the ring’s sapphires remade into earrings. I told myself I’d give the sapphires to my daughter, and you’re my daughter now, so that it’s only right that you have them.” She explained. When you finally managed to tear your eyes away from the earrings to look at her, you saw the proud, yet nervous smile on her face and the slight buildup of tears in her eyes.
“Thank you,” was all you could manage to say. You reached over the table and held her hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance, to silently tell her how much it meant to you because both of you knew you the tear gates would open if you spoke another word.
That night, as Tom got ready for bed, you couldn’t help yourself from looking at the earrings again, eyeing how the glittered in the dim light from your nightstand. Tom wandered into the room, his sweats hanging low on his waist.
“I’m exhausted. Who knew eating cake and taking measurements would be so tiring?” He yawned, getting into the bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, ready to cuddle as he fell asleep, when he noticed the box in your hand. “What’s that?”
“Your mum gave them to me. The sapphires were used in her engagement ring.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke, both of you knowing the weight of the words. You felt Tom’s fingers shift to find your hands, his finger ghosting over your own engagement ring. “She said they were meant for her daughter and that I-“
You stopped yourself short, knowing he could fill in rest. Ever so sweetly, Tom placed a chaste kiss to your lips, and his hand cupped the side of your face as he pulled away. “You’re a Holland now.”
~~~
Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @bvttercupbby @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker @miraclesoflove @ethereal-beauty-p @rebekkah4766
Tom Holland Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland @tomthetease @agustdowney
Series Tag List: @thefallenbibliophilequote @wassup-peoples @thevelvetseries @greatpizzascissorstaco @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe @asonofpeter @millennial-teenybopper
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#tom holland series#tom holland fanfic
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sour tangerine | huang renjun
pairing: keyboardist!renjun x songwriter!reader
words: 15.3k
summary: ‘i gave up on that sort of music,’ he’d said. but not like this. not when you’re there to grab his wrist and drag him into your ridiculous notions about music that make him want to tear all his hair out. huang renjun falls in love with two words that escape your lips, and now he has to pretend his cheeks aren’t caked in a blush as red as donghyuck’s guitar. maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to joining this band of idiots just for an incredibly cute songwriter.
themes: rock band!au, fluff, (mostly existential) angst, comedy-ish
warnings: making out, alcohol, college kids being college kids
song recs: hello sunshine - wetter // how to love - day6 // today - nell // rooftop - n.flying // what can i do - day6 // red - the rose // i loved you - day6 // leave it - n.flying // baby - the rose
a/n: nct dream 00 line rock band. that’s it. who wants to join my renjun cover literally any song by day6 agenda. if you think this is like a kdrama compressed into a fic i am so sorry but you are correct hsdksh also i do not know what it’s like to major in music or make music so... please bear with me.
special thanks to @insomni-writing for beta reading this ilysm!! and @cinanamon because your support made me actually finish this ily dude <3
With hair dyed blond and a stream of colourful words ready at the tip of his tongue, no one assumes Huang Renjun majors in classical music. Not when he’s threatening Lee Donghyuck by the vending machine, not when he’s pulling an arrogant half-smile by the semester-end results and certainly not when he’s hardly ever seen near an instrument as elegant as the grand piano.
If they heard him play it just once, they’d forget the rest.
He strikes the keys gently, and then all at once in a motion so very unique to him—and you know this, not because you were stalking him, but because you happened to get a very rare ticket to the national level performing arts concert (which you didn’t scam out of someone that time, you swear). Looking pristine in a clean tuxedo and with then dark hair swept to the side, Huang Renjun looked very much like an alien, like the words leaving his mouth and the things he’d do would be so unpredictable.
You were right.
Huang Renjun plays the piano like he’s not of this world.
He plays soft rock tunes even better—which, this time, you know because you were, in fact, stalking him while he spent extra hours in the practice room. From the lazy smile on his face to the way he let himself loose (for once) in a hot pink hoodie he kept trying to cover with his bag all day, you knew he was perfect.
Out of all the miserably planned (and timed) situations you’ve pulled yourself into, this might just hit top 3.
You’re going to convince Renjun to join your band.
Which is easier said than done, because Renjun is just as stubborn as you are, if not more. You’ve never wanted to smack someone so bad and neither have you ever contemplated the outcome of spontaneous fistfights as much. But as frustrated as he leaves you, you know you need him, or your picture-perfect plan will fall apart before you’ve even started to paint.
The first time you’d nudged him in class, he’d sent you a glare as soon as the question left your lips. You’d fought a pout, the warmth on your cheeks popping like firecrackers. But you’re not easily discouraged, no, not really, not ever.
The second time, you’d spread your arms in front of him to get him to stop walking off, looking more of a lunatic than a college student (sometimes, what’s the difference?) and Renjun had pursed his lips and furrowed his brows in an expression more than annoyed.
“Please!” you yelled, catching the attention of fellow students.
Renjun eyed your palms flat against each other, elbows raised in a most comical prayer and announced a “No” just as loudly before briskly walking away.
The third time, you’d sent Donghyuck, your lead guitarist, who you really shouldn’t have expected to perform better than you did. You know they’re friends, so that should have worked better, right? Wrong. Renjun had returned a pouting Donghyuck, complaining nonstop for two whole days afterwards and with a message from Renjun to “in the best of words, fuck off”.
You sigh, glancing at the time on your watch. This is your last time to book him for your ragtag rock band (still unnamed) and you’re going to leave him with no choice. You can do this.
You tiptoe from one side of the corridor to the other, the large windows drenching you in an uncomfortable amount of sunlight. But you are quiet—you know how to be sneaky and you’d be lying if you said you’re not at least a little bit proud of it. Renjun stays at the senior practice room well into late afternoon and if the door was closed fully, you’d be hearing nothing of it.
The old model of electronic keyboards in the practice room, which made you wonder if electric instruments ever rust, now plays ringing clear. It’s not just the fondness with which your school’s beloved pianist plays it but the added charm of his structure, straightened enough to focus but relaxed just as much.
A few minutes pass by in quiet contemplation, as you run through your plan again. First, approach him with a friendly gesture, offer him your strawberry milk or something. Second, block every exit he might seek once you’ve cornered him. Third, spew that long speech you prepared—a pretty pile of words ought to move him. Right? If all else fails, you’re going to call in Jaemin as your secret weapon. The boy can charm a rock, and you hate to be doing that to anyone (even Renjun), but drastic situations call for drastic measures. You take a sharp breath.
Oh, he’s singing now?
You misstep over the marble flooring and the door creaks open a little too loud.
Shit.
The music stops. You take a good second to swear at yourself, well and full, before breathing in and entering the practice room with as much confidence as you can gather.
“Renjun!” you say, grinning wide and arms stretched as if you’re there to welcome him.
Renjun looks at you, surprise smeared across his face. He quickly picks up his bag, shaking his head at you as he makes his way towards the door.
“You- “
Instead of all your brilliant planning, you resort to pulling a disgruntled Renjun into a lonesome corner before he can leave. It would seem more of a threat than an invitation to join, you’ll admit, but right now, you need Renjun to not glare at you with a scowl so obvious. It’s not that his face makes you nervous, it’s the outcome of today’s attempt. The bright afternoon sun reaches his hair and the left side of his face, a warm hue over eyes that look at you with more than just mild annoyance. He wears a grungy dark jacket over his lightly coloured T-shirt and has the audacity to claim he doesn’t do rock.
“Are you trying to kidnap me or something?” he asks, adjusting the strap of his bag.
You quickly smack the wall so your arm blocks his way, though the impact of it makes you wince.
“Join me,” you say, looking at him, determination across your face though the sentence comes off more cult-ish than you’d want.
Renjun takes a step back to look up and take a sharp breath.
“I already told you,” he says, raising his voice, “I don’t do that sort of music anymore.”
“Anymore?”
Renjun groans, lips shaped in perfect annoyance. “Just how long are you going to keep this up?”
He tries to escape you but you take a hasty step closer, his back hitting the wall with a thud. It’s not all that fun, getting people to join your band. It’s even less fun when Renjun’s cologne is a tad too minty for your tastes.
“I’ll do anything!” you say, pressing your lips tight as the pleading grows in your eyes.
“Anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes!” You jolt up straighter.
“Then leave me alone forever for the rest of my life.”
Renjun crosses his arms and you frown, a sigh lacing your lips till you bring yourself to look him in the eye again. It’s not yet time to pull out Jaemin, you’re not even sure if that will work, but you might just have something else.
“Lee Chaerim!” you suddenly yell. “You like her, don’t you?”
It’s a long shot but if it works…
Renjun’s cheeks dust pink and he takes a step back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. Bullseye. You fight a snort before he can catch you. Gods, he’s so obvious.
“Wh-what gave you that idea?” he retorts, pitch shooting higher before he recomposes himself. “She’s a classmate, idiot. And don’t yell her name!”
“Star pianist Lee Chaerim,” you wave your hand about. “Who wouldn’t have a crush on her? I mean you’re a close second though.”
Renjun raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “It’s really not…”
“I’ll score you a date with her!” you declare, grinning like a maniac. “If you join my band.”
Renjun sighs, shoulders sagging. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”
“Nope.” You shrug, popping the ‘p’ in a helplessly obnoxious manner.
Renjun leans back against the wall, head tilting to look you in the eye as the frown grows prominent over his lips.
“And you think scoring me a date will make me want to join your…band?” Renjun snorts.
You shift your eyes awkwardly. “Well, I didn’t really paint you as the Romeo type either but hey, I don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“(name)?”
“Yes?”
“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”
“Oh. That’s actually the sweetest thing I’ve heard from you,” you muse before quickly returning to the subject at hand. “Ah, come on. Just give it a chance, please?
“I major in classical music.”
You raise an eyebrow, a smirk crawling over your lips. “And yet you’re more than decent at Queen on the keys.”
Renjun straightens, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. “You’re stalking me?!”
“No, I’m scouting you. All the big companies hire people to do that.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Er, it’s called extraordinary.”
“Extraordinarily annoying.”
“Stop arguing with me!” You stomp your foot.
Renjun mimics you in a rather aggressive tone, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. You pull a face, throwing a soft punch at his shoulder to which he responds with a sharp cry and a glare.
“Fine!” Renjun says, massaging his shoulder. “I’ll give you one week to prove to me this band’s worth my time.”
You feel something akin to surprise before his words register. Worth his time? He's just about as arrogant as you expected.
“Deal,” you say, shooting him a forced smile.
From the light periwinkle of his T-shirt to the blond strands astray against his forehead, there’s a sort of halo surrounding him. You press your lips together before you can laugh at his supposed angelic qualities, before he somehow starts to look as pretty as your friends describe.
“Starting today, I’m your lyricist and composer!” you grin, extending your hand towards him.
“I...You…”
Renjun hesitates before taking your hand in a firm shake, but not before pursing his lips in doubt. Perhaps you could have warned him before grabbing his wrist and so unceremoniously dragging him here.
“I didn’t even join,” he mutters.
“I’m giving you the full trial!” you defend.
Renjun stays quiet before suddenly clearing his throat. “You can- You can let go of the wall now.”
Your eyes trail to your hand and you immediately retract it with an “ah”. There’s barely any distance between your chests, and you suppose you were successful in cornering him—a little too effectively. Renjun shakes his head, quickly walking past you with no gesture of goodbye.
“You’re going to be disappointed, (name),” he says quietly before leaving.
You blink in confusion at his disappearing figure.
Whatever. When have you ever paid attention to words of warning? You glance at the back of Renjun’s head from the second floor’s handrail as he rushes down the stairs, albeit a sort of grace to his movement, and sigh.
Donghyuck owes you twenty. You’re going to be rubbing it in his smug face that you’ve recruited, er, almost recruited the unreachable Huang Renjun. And for a date? He must be far more romantic than you thought. You don’t think you’ll ever understand him.
You take a slow, deep breath reaching all the way to your belly.
Your plan is working out. It’s going to work out—soon you can be writing songs to a rhythm and melody of your choice, for people who can hear the words and dance to it. The world’s gonna sing along to your songs, to the chorus to your ambitions.
“Renjun?!”
Between Donghyuck’s agape mouth and Renjun’s defensive stance, you really don’t know who to approach first. This place was apparently the only room in all of Seoul a bunch of college kids could rent out and while all of you dished out a remarkable chunk from your earnings, it was worth every penny. From the ugly orange wallpaper to the stinky couch, you wouldn’t trade a thing in this room, except for maybe Jeno’s withering plant in exchange for a new one. Poor thing’s been dead for as long as you can remember (courtesy of Jaemin).
“(name) actually convinced you?” Donghyuck asks, exaggerated surprise in his voice before he drops it lower. “You can tell me if you were threatened or something, promise I’ll get you out of this.”
Renjun rolls his eyes, a smile making on to his face anyway. “It’s just for a w—mph!”
You slap a hand over Renjun’s mouth, stepping in to grin victoriously at Donghyuck. “See, Hyuck? I told you I’d make it work. Now, pay up.”
“You bet on this?”
The curtains are drawn shut but the room lights are bright in a strange sort of way, like someone in the sixteenth century discovered electricity early and decided to reinvent candlelight out of it. Late afternoon isn’t as gentle as it is in winter, but you’d rather have patches of sunlight decorating the room instead of the garish yellow lights. The lavender air freshener you sprayed a few minutes ago has already settled in, the previous scent of instant noodles, though delicious, finally gone. You should’ve brought the coffee mix, you think with regret. A productive day needs a productive start, as you’ve always been told. (You might have messed up, but it’s never too late, right?)
You think you should have anticipated a little adjustment trouble after all.
Jeno walks headfirst into the mess—with Renjun choking Donghyuck under his arm while you try to not drop the pile of records from the small coffee table and onto the Dorito dust-covered wooden floor. The recorder is safe, a good few feet away from your mayhem.
“Oh, hey Renjun, didn’t know you’re a part of this,” Jeno says, raising an eyebrow at the boy.
“Yeah, I didn’t either,” Renjun mutters in response, loosing up on Donghyuck.
You narrow your eyes. “Wait, you guys know each other?”
“Yeah, we’re in the same dorm,” Jeno answers, shrugging before he drops his bag onto the couch.
You gasp. “You could’ve just asked him all this time?!”
“Uh,” Jeno drawls out before coughing forcefully. There’s a slight change of air, and your inability to read situations, for the first time, is a major help.
“Hello, trouble children,” Jaemin announces as he enters, his bag thrown in Jeno’s direction, who seems relieved for the interruption.
“Oh, hi Renjun!”
“You know him too?” You’re almost offended at this point.
Jaemin stares blankly in confusion. “Yeah, we’re…all…in the same dorm.”
You throw up your head in exasperation, an annoyed huff leaving your parted lips. “And none of you thought of asking him to join?!”
“We didn’t think he’d ever agree,” Jaemin says, glancing at Renjun discreetly.
Renjun stays quiet, shrugging before he plops down on the couch. “Anyone wanna tell me what we’re supposed to do today? Apart from killing Donghyuck?”
“It’s not my fault you’re so bad at rock, paper, scissors,” Donghyuck retorts quietly.
“You cheated!” Renjun sits up straight, glaring.
You raise your palms like the peaceful negotiator you are, and honestly, all they had to do was decide the lead vocal for the new song, which Renjun vehemently rejected.
Donghyuck gasps. “Renjun isn’t half as innocent as he looks. Watch out (name)—oof.”
Renjun elbows him in the stomach, the resulting expression on Donghyuck making you wonder just how much strength Renjun really has.
“Renjun, Donghyuck. You’re both lead,” you say, finalizing.
“What?!”
The two of them look at you, one with betrayal and the other with an emotion very close to murder. It wasn’t easy coming to the decision, sure, but for this song, you’ll be needing Renjun a little bit more. Is it treacherous of you to have picked out the song most suited to him? You have your reasons, however. You’re not letting Renjun leave without experiencing the wonders of performing at a local pub, and in general, you’re a little iffy about letting him leave at all. You need the keys and you need a chance. You have something to prove.
“Just this song, Hyuck,” you sigh. “You know we switch up things every time.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “The show's coming Saturday, right?”
You nod when Renjun interrupts.
“Show?!” he blurts.
“We’re performing,” you answer, shrugging. “You know Odd Fruit? In Hongdae?”
Renjun wrinkles his nose, shifting back. “No? Isn’t that a dive bar?”
“Best place for us,” Jaemin grins, resting his elbows against the headrest beside Renjun. “Saturdays are for rock.”
Renjun sighs. “I don’t- I don’t sing rock.”
Jeno raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t peeping or anything but wasn’t that you in the shower? What were you singing again—”
“Okay, okay!” Renjun sits up straight, heaving a sigh, his shoulders moving with it. “I sing Disney songs in the shower, it doesn’t mean anything…”
“We can do that sort of music too.” You grin, tilting your head. “We can do any music!”
“Yeah,” Jeno encourages thoughtfully, “Even idol music!”
“No,” everyone says in unison.
Jeno mutters something under his breath, sulking as he sinks into the couch and crosses his arms after adjusting his bright red baseball cap.
Renjun shakes his head, recomposing himself. “You want me to perform next Saturday?! That wasn’t in the deal!”
You furrow your brows. “I told you it’s a full trial!”
“That’s over a week!” He throws up his hands in exasperation.
“The trial week ends on Friday and Saturday’s just a bonus,” you reason, crossing your arms.
You don't break the gaze just in case it determines your stand. It’s probably a full minute of glaring at each other before your humble audience intervenes, Donghyuck bursting into laughter and the other two following. You share a puzzled look with Renjun, looking around for an explanation.
“We’re gonna have a blast this Saturday,” Donghyuck says, wiping a tear from his eye. “I can’t wait.”
“We’ll get to practise,” Jaemin says, resting his palm on Renjun’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’re gonna have fun, trust me.”
“I hope so,” Renjun mutters.
That’s all you need to hear.
Renjun isn’t half as disagreeable when he’s focused. His brow line is straight, lips parted gently and eyes almost hazed over as if his fingers over the keys have eyes of their own.
Renjun is also fantastic at perfecting your notes. You always thought he’d be too prissy to work with you, but he doesn’t seem to care about that anymore. With flushed knuckles and long fingers, part of hands that were meant to play the piano—you’d say Renun lives up to the musical prodigy title. The short demo you’d played for him somehow swirled and twined into music so him and yet still you, rock undertones with light blues. You haven’t met anyone who can play with melody like that, besides Donghyuck.
Rock means hope. Undone to be done.
And maybe, part of you is a little disappointed at how well he handles the pre-performance stress. You would love to see a hint of jitters in him for once. Saturday wastes no time in creeping up and while you wish you could say you feel what your band looks like, you don’t. The pre-performance stress is very, very different for you.
Let’s say, you’re not too sure about reviving rock music in Seoul. It’s not very popular and still considered underground, but hey, at least it’s easy on the ears and it is honest, if nothing else. And an honest sound wins, right?
You lock eyes with Renjun, before they're ushered to the centre. There's not much to be said. You smile with a determined nod, holding up both of your thumbs to the boys. This will work out. It will.
And at the very least, you're getting two shots of whiskey on the house.
The place is shabby, but not too shabby for a dive bar. There’s a giant mural… thing of what seems to be the hybrid of a peach, apricot and dragonfruit. You’re not too sure, actually. Just as crowded as you expected, the lights glow dim and the smell of musk and lime keep in check the other foul smells that could possibly emanate from the human body. Lovely. Your fingers play against your lips as they stretch into a smile. It’s the perfect place to play your song, but maybe the jitters have a purpose after all.
There are foreign faces around, quite literally, and it makes you nervous. You settle by the bar, your last words of encouragement drifted off further from you to whatever that excuse of a stage is.
Renjun looks calm as ever. The confidence in him is not what you'd expected, though a bubbling feeling in you suggests it's even better this way.
“You finally got someone on the keys,” a familiar voice calls from behind the countertop.
You turn your head to find Doyoung, arms resting on the table and holding what seems to be a bottle of vodka so tenderly, you’d think it was either his child or an explosive.
“Huang Renjun,” you respond, smiling. “Like the best pianist in our year. Or maybe second best.”
Doyoung laughs. “You kids could be as good as us some day. Need more practice.”
“Hey, old man, it’s not your time anymore,” you say, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky grin. “Maybe you were the best keyboardist back then but…”
You lean in to emphasize as you point at a Renjun furrowing his brows at all the wiring. “That guy’s going to outsing you. It’s the new era now. Etcetera, etcetera.”
“You talk like I’m from a different generation.” Doyoung scoffs, though the corner of his lips twitch. “Still dreaming of making your boyband? Do you guys even have a name?”
You pout. “It’s not a boyband! Okay… technically, it is a boyband. And no, we don’t have a name.”
You sulk for a moment or two at the way Doyoung had called your life’s work a boyband in that uninterested tone. Nothing’s wrong with a boyband. You sigh.
“At least we’re getting free alcohol, eh?” you nudge Doyoung, him being the reason you’re getting to play here anyway. What does a graduated music performance major do in his free time? Bartending, apparently. You haven’t ever really questioned his life choices and you’re not going to start now. Never question your seniors.
“I’m not serving you kids alcohol,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief.
“We’re legal,” you argue, crossing your arms.
“Hard to believe.”
You see the smile lines crease on Doyoung’s face and before you can retort, a hum of strings resounds through the place, loud enough for the two of you to catch.
“Sorry,” Donghyuck mouths sheepishly to the two of you, Doyoung responding with an eye roll.
“I didn’t know that demon could get nervous,” he mutters and you laugh at the comedic duo the two of them make.
Donghyuck clears his throat into the mic and you cringe, but not before holding back your laughter at the terror in his eyes. Right then, the keys are struck, and suddenly, music is into motion.
You absentmindedly hum along, smiling to yourself before it strikes you to monitor the crowd. You gulp, a crease in your brows as you look around with the determination of a child at a pet shop scanning for a puppy to adopt.
You give up after a minute or so, the feeling weighing heavy. Reading facial expressions has never really been your thing, especially under lights that don’t acknowledge the purpose of their existence. (You’re not saying this because you have bad eyesight.) Fun varies. Everyone in this place is in a crowd of their own, and if not a crowd, in a dream. Some nod along, some smile but you, you know the song better than anyone else in this room. It has to be worth something.
You sigh. Your desperation gets a notch crueler each drawing year, and yet, the questions still arise. Do you have to be someone? A smiling face at a dive bar is more than enough to be, you think.
You mouth the lyrics, nodding your head along to the baseline you helped make. You think Doyoung chuckles beside you, something about taking self-love too seriously but you can’t hear him over the sound of the band.
Bass. Drums. Keys.
Suddenly, in the moment between heartbeats, your eyes meet Renjun’s.
He sings into the mic full of self-assurance, teeth occasionally making an appearance in a chaotic smile. It's always the little things that make the person. Eyes peering down at the keys, barely keeping open at certain parts and yet you think you see a hint of exhilaration in them.
The riff of the second song starts out loud. This is Donghyuck’s song and this time, it turns heads. You’re not sure in a good way or bad, but it wouldn’t be the first time people have wanted to beat him up in a bar. You snicker to yourself but just then, two guys cheer from the crowd, a red-faced Donghyuck flashing them a grin.
“Ah, Jaehyun and Taeil are here too,” Doyoung notes. You’ve never actually met the two but you’ve heard of them so many times you think you could replace Doyoung as their lead singer.
The song is called Cheers and for good reason.
Donghyuck smiles into the mic, and with a highly anticipated breath, you realize, Renjun is smiling too. Little by little, the night grows more optimistic and into the palms of your youth. Even in this tiny, crowded place. Even in a room full of people you can’t read.
The song ends in time, but not enough for Donghyuck to actually convince Doyoung to give him drinks. It’s not a Saturday night without their fights, and despite that, the atmosphere is warm with spoken words. You think you catch Renjun beam at Doyoung’s compliment, suppressing your own smile at the two..
Clink, splash, clink.
“You know, for someone as excited about whiskey, I thought you’d be better with liquor,” Renjun says, sighing as his hesitant finger pokes you in the forehead.
Your eyes open so suddenly, Renjun flinches and you ease into a smile. “I’m not that drunk. The next shot, maybe.”
That’s not entirely true because you’re sure the previous one just needs a little more time to settle into your gut. Renjun, on the other hand, seems to be better at dealing with alcohol. The peach hue across his cheeks make you want to pinch them and you’ll give it twenty minutes before you lose control and actually do.
The two songs were only three and a half minutes each but they seemed to stretch long enough for you to be pleased with them. You’re not sure about the rest.
“I almost messed up the beat there,” Jeno mutters, resting his head against the bar table. Jaemin shrugs beside him, taking another shot. The two of them can hold their liquor, at least. Donghyuck cannot.
“Was it that bad?” Donghyuck asks, adjusting the red bomber jacket he was so sure made him look cool. “I don’t think it was bad. I mean, we all do embarrassing things once in a while—”
“Does he not shut up?” Renjun wails before looking at you accusingly. “Don’t end up like that.”
“I don’t mope, Renjun,” you snap, your finger unsteady as it points at him. “You better remember that about me.”
Renjun rolls his eyes. “And you’re gone too.”
“Tell me,” you say, your lips tugged into a lazy smile, “you enjoyed it, didn’t you? I saw you smiling.”
Even under the wash of blue light, you can see his cheeks tinge with colour. Is Huang Renjun purple now? Not the crystal clear jewel you’d expected, but these hues are so much nicer on him. He doesn’t always have to be under golden spotlight—he can just bask in the mulberry shades of a nearly sketchy club once in a while.
“Renjun,” a loud whine erupts from beside you, Donghyuck immediately wobbling up. “I can’t believe you actually agreed to play with us. C’mere, let me give you a smooch.”
Renjun curls his lips, desperately trying to fight off Donghyuck clinging onto him for life, and you hear a grunt of pain from Renjun in a pitch you didn’t think was humanly possible. You laugh, clutching your stomach and hear a few strained words from Renjun about how no one ever helps him. Who would help him when he’s providing you the funniest event of the weekend?
Jeno is the knight in shining armour tonight, pulling Donghyuck off but not before the boy lands a kiss on Renjun’s neck, in turn getting smacked in the lips a little too hard. Donghyuck places his hand over his mouth, keeling over with eyes shut in pain and Renjun mutters about how he deserved that. He fits in just fine, you think.
“You wanna… not do that?”
Renjun pulls the shot glass away from you, and you frown at him.
“So tell me,” he says, leaning in a little closer to be heard over the song. “Why did you want me to join your band so desperately you forgot your own dignity? I’m not saying you had any to begin with but…”
“Look, Renjun, I don’t give away embarrassing secrets when I’m drunk,” you warn, poking him right between the ribs. “Even if it’s not embarrassing. Or a secret.”
“Right. You’d do that sober,” he sighs, arms a polite distance from you when you try to stand up.
“Now you tell me—”
“You didn’t even answer me.”
“—did you have fun?”
Renjun pauses, taking a moment or two as he scans your face. The light dances across his features, gentle eyes and parted lips, across the dark jacket over a white shirt that has turned fluorescent under the lighting. You forgot how fun this place got beyond midnight, when they play beats to dance to for a crowd that seeks nothing more than fun.
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
Renjun might be trying very hard to stop the smile over his lips but you can see it in his eyes. And perhaps, people are only seen when they are true to themselves.
“Huang Renjun!” you yell all of a sudden, voice still drowned out in the delicate discordance.
Unfortunately for Renjun, you yell directly into his ear and he responds with a violent recoil, hand flying to his ear involuntarily. He probably cries out too but the music is deafening, something you enjoy rightly so. Or is it the alcohol? Should you have stayed sober for Renjun’s sake? Right now, you don’t even mind the strong minty scent wafting from Renjun—in fact, it’s welcoming, even.
You wobble onto his chest before tentatively pushing yourself away. You curse at yourself. You weren’t supposed to get hammered. How much did you drink? You can’t even bear to look at the bill right now.
“You know what? I’m not having fun right now,” Renjun speaks into your ear and you jump. There’s a hint of a smile on his face.
You sit back down on the bar stool, pouting at the fuzz blooming inside your head. No more words for tonight. In all honesty, why doesn’t anyone ever let you dance?
“Oh no, you don’t.” Doyoung pulls the bottle of whatever-alcoholic-beverage out of your reach. “Do you even know how expensive that is? You’re going to have to pay.”
You think you sober up a little, sitting straight. “Oh no. I don’t have money. I’m not cleaning the place again.”
A sort of unspoken arrangement passes between Doyoung and Renjun, who you’re sure have never met before. You know Jaemin’s dragged Donghyuck home, the same way you’d drag your pet cat away from the kitchen and Jeno is the only one with a driver’s license and Doyoung’s trust (hence, designated driver). Which leaves the two of you.
Renjun heaves a sigh, pulling you up by the shoulders. “You’re going home. Or whatever dumpster you came from.”
He proceeds to mutter something about Jeno being late but in the moment, you flash him a grin, walking perfectly away (at least, you think you do) and out into the night. Renjun follows, flustered by your absolute lack of restraint as he somehow manages to stop you from tripping over the sidewalk.
“You didn’t dance,” you complain, looking at him.
“You didn’t let me,” he retorts. “Look at you. You’re as bad as Donghyuck. Babysitting him is difficult enough.”
You grumble before agreeing. “Okay, fair. Next time, no drinking. Unless it’s free.”
What college student would have the audacity to turn down free drinks? Huang Renjun should not have been this good at holding his liquor. Needlessly, your thoughts are incoherent—not too good for a songwriter, right?
Huang Renjun has a lighter touch than you thought. He has a polite hold over your shoulder, in a way friends do most often, and you might feel like you could have been friends with him forever, but you can never tell what he thinks. Sometimes, Renjun really is extraterrestrial. In the way he talks, in the way he looks at things and in the way you almost believe he’s going to do something unspeakably outrageous someday.
You feel a certain sprout of warmth in your chest as he sits quietly beside you in the noisy car Jeno loves to drive. Must be the alcohol, of course. Of course.
And sometimes, you come up with words fit for a song. To fall asleep in last night’s clothes and wake up with tomorrow’s dreams—all part of the grand plan, part of the crusades of youth, nothing more and nothing less. That sounds like something you’d love telling your family when you’re old and grey. You laugh to yourself, pulling the covers over your head, not knowing how you even ended up here.
It smells minty.
With that one fleeting thought, you doze off in your unwashed bed sheets and faintly lemon-scented pillows, shades of plums and oranges and cherries of the night twisting into midnight black.
Playing at Odd Fruit is now a thing. Your thing. The band’s thing.
As if you needed any more reasons to stay over at the bandroom, now that Donghyuck and Renjun bickering keeps everyone up all night. You’re not blaming them, of course, when you join in the fun too. The day Renjun’s nostrils stop flaring and his eyebrows don’t furrow into an oddly adorable expression will be the day he’s finally set free from your ‘ill-treatment’.
Tap, scratch, tap.
Donghyuck fiddles with the strings of his guitar, while the rest lay slumped in any clean bit of space they could find, like runners after a marathon. Which is funny, really, considering you were the one running errands and cleaning up the damn place and it’s yet still somehow trashed. You could be having a little more energy, you always could.
However, the lengthened nights have left you in a state you’re rather afraid to be in. Your eyes don’t grow any more determined when it’s time for end semester tests, you don’t grow any happier at the thought of graduating. There are so many tunes to find, so many words to scribble—just how will you catch up?
Fun is a perfectly valid reason to do things but it’s only so long before the rest of your feelings each grip you by the limbs.
“We need to do something more,” you say, pacing the room. “Something that’s a little more eye-catching, you know?”
There’s a pause.
“Make Jeno play the drums shirtless,” Donghyuck suggests.
Jeno sighs, still not having figured out how to respond every time a scandalizing proposition escapes the boy’s mouth. At this point, most of you have considered duct taping him over the mouth but it’d never work. Renjun’s tried.
“Why do we even need it?” Renjun asks, eyes on the ceiling as he lies back on the couch.
“To improve!” you say, shoulders hunching.
“I don’t need improving,” he mutters, neck angled to the side in contemplation.
“Yeah, you should see Renjun at the dorms,” Donghyuck snorts. “I don’t think he can get any better.”
Renjun furrows his brows. “What?”
“You play the keys in your sleep, Renjun,” Donghyuck says, almost distastefully. “You keep tapping and tapping against the study desk. How the hell do you not wake yourself up?”
“And you snore,” Renjun mumbles, glaring at him. “How the hell do you not wake yourself up?”
“Guys,” you interrupt. Your lack of sleep throughout the exam season has not left you any better than this. “More important matters at hand.”
“Why are we so stressed anyway?” Renjun sighs.
There’s another pause in the quiet afternoon. You’d think it’s comforting even to have the same fear lingering beneath each of your noses, that same existential grasp ready to pounce—all within the comfort of the same room you share. All those late nights sharing ramen have meaning after all, as do the utter messes all of you make on Friday evenings as the boys try to practise, as does every Saturday night performance and every Sunday afternoon spent trying to watch the same movie on a tiny phone screen.
“How about we each look for inspiration?” Jaemin pipes up, eyes still a little lost.
Everyone turns to him and he straightens ever so slightly. “Me and Jeno can come up with a beat, (name) and Renjun can look for a melody and Donghyuck—”
“Can fuck off?” Renjun suggests helpfully.
Donghyuck pouts, crossing his arms. “Hey I’m—”
“Yeah, maybe Donghyuck can fuck off,” Jaemin says, fighting a smile. You raise an eyebrow, wondering which one of Donghyuck’s antics finally got on Jaemin’s nerves.
“This is harassment,” Donghyuck mutters before sinking into the couch beside Renjun. “Well, good for me! I get a day off—”
“No, you don’t,” Jaemin disproves. “You’re cleaning up this place.”
Donghyuck lets out a gasp. “All by myself?”
“Well, you trashed the place all by yourself,” Jeno reasons.
You tune out the bickering for a few moments. There are important matters at hand and no one seems to be listening to you. You play with your fingers absentmindedly when the thought arrives that maybe you should declare your secret little project. The song you wrote with Renjun in mind, that is. You should admit that it’s really just a nicer way of saying you wrote a song for him.
Astounding, isn’t it? This should be the part where you feel your pulse quicken. It’s just a song and the nights spent with him on the keyboards, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes has given you a head full of rhythm and song. It’s just a song.
You’d do anything for a good song.
But first, you need your audio converter fixed. The damn thing’s been generating noise all on its own, when it’s clearly your job.
“I need to go to Yongsan,” you say, picking up your bag. “We can find inspiration along the way, can’t we Renjun?”
“Why do we need to go—”
“Oh, get me some replacement strings for my guitar,” Donghyuck chirps.
“And a new pair of drumsticks,” Jeno says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You sigh. He really needs to stop breaking those. Where do drummers get such unparalleled rage on a drum set?
You walk over to the door before turning back and sending a pointed look at Renjun.
“I… have to?” he asks, and the look in his eyes almost makes you pity him. If anything, he’s having it worse than the rest of you are, with balancing the weekly gigs and practising for his piano recitals, though he never studies like the rest. You feel sorry but clearly, not enough.
“Yes,” you reply hurriedly. “Quick, get up, come on, we’re wasting time.”
“Okay, okay! Don’t pull my shirt!”
It’s so easy to get Renjun to do things these days. You bite back a smile as he fixes his collar, features still disgruntled by your (over)enthusiasm. His bag is cuter than you thought for someone who dresses punk (“It’s not punk,” he’d snapped, after re-dyeing his hair yet again.), with three different moomin keychains hanging against a baby blue hue.
You should know better than to let yourself think about someone so much.
The subway is absolutely lovable when it isn’t rush hour.
Skyscrapers nearly aren’t as looming as they are on rainy days, but you make your way through a still busy city, the heart of it beating like a snare drum with each passing moment. A little rain cannot stop Seoul.
Renjun walks beside you explaining how you should really look into this new underground artist you’ve already listened to three times this week because of him. He never seems to understand that you are, in fact, capable of remembering the things he says.
“I wrote a song about you,” you say abruptly.
Very smooth.
Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Like as a gift? A fan song? I’m so flatter—”
“No, stupid,” you interrupt, shifting your eyes upon irrelevant surrounding details. “It’s not about you. I just thought you’d like it.”
You pause.
“Yeah, it’s a little bit about you. A gift for joining. You can sing it to yourself in the shower or something.”
“You know, I feel really offended when you call me stupid.”
You glare at him. His ears are tinged red but right now, you’re a little more than done with his insults. Sure, you make mistakes—like dropping a full open can of soda on your own lap or submitting the wrong assignment to the wrong professor—but at least you’re not cynical Huang Renjun, incapable of making mistakes at all. It would be much more infuriating if you hadn’t seen Renjun drooling in his sleep or vigorously wipe at his nose after having snacks too spicy for his own good. You suppress a retort.
You reach the subway entrance taking slower steps than usual; but time is not a constraint here.
“It’s not a diss track, is it?” Renjun asks, suddenly doubtful.
You can’t help your laugh (and horrifically, snorts), in turn evoking a smile in Renjun.
“No, it isn’t,” you assure, before grabbing his wrist and skipping down the steps, Renjun’s panicked voice yelling at you to slow down.
“Can you not do that?” he complains, massaging his wrist at the subway platform.
“You made it through without tripping,” you reason, sticking your tongue out at him.
He reaches out to flick your forehead but you cover it just in time, a grin blooming across both your faces at this childish playfight. The train arrives with an almost soundless screech and you hop on slowly with anticipation in your footsteps.
“So what is it about?” Renjun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees.
“You,” you respond, nonchalant.
“Very informative.”
The noise of the trains keeps the moment engaged, chuffing throughout as busy as they are.
Renjun lets out a barely audible gasp. “It’s not a- It’s not a love song, is it?”
You laugh, amused.
“Renjun, I knew you were arrogant but not this arrogant,” you tease.
He flushes hotly, and there’s that feeling again—that maybe you’re wrong. Maybe you don’t have anything else to hang on to and music is the only ledge left.
You wrinkle your nose before shaking yourself off the feeling. Rainy days always do this.
“Besides,” you say, “I’m still going to score you that hot date with star pianist number one, aren’t I?”
“Not number one,” he begins before hesitating. “That’s… not necessary but thanks.”
You punch him swiftly and he responds with an oof, clutching the ball of his shoulder.
“Don’t be shy,” you complain. “That’s not fun.”
“Well, I’m not fun,” he retorts. “I don’t need to be. I like having a working brain.”
You send him an exaggerated hurt look, hand reaching to pull at his cheek before it gets swatted away. Somehow, in this exact moment, you find a new tune and it doesn’t seem to be the end of your search. You contemplate saving it in your voice memos but you figure a noisy subway train is the last place to record. Besides, you don’t want to lose the look in Renjun’s eyes when he’s talking about how impressive the new relocated concert hall is.
“It’s called Not Feeling Spring,” you say when the train doors open to your station.
Renjun raises an eyebrow, somewhat disbelieving, although you’re not sure of what.
“You’ve definitely packed some insults in there,” he accuses.
You look at him, defeated. “Trust me.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
Step, step, splash.
“Ew,” Renjun says, shaking his foot after landing on a particularly damp part of the sidewalk. They really should have evened out the path when laying the pavement. But unfortunately for Renjun, he’s already stepped onto rainwater in bright yellow converse.
It’s not just his shoes that look like daisies could bloom over them either—there’s paint over his denim jacket in pictures you’re aware that Renjun himself painted. A nice little touch, but not a very smart choice for a garment. How unlike him, you think to yourself when you hear him sigh and complain about the weather.
“So this is your famous shop?” Renjun asks, eyeing the discoloured walls of the store by the shop.
“You’re doing your thing again,” you reply, face souring.
He looks baffled. “What thing?”
“Your thing. The one where you act all cynical.”
“I’m not cynical.” He crosses his arms.
“Great, you’re even cynical about being cynical.”
Inside is, of course, as warm as ever. The walls are vibrant red, in stark contrast with the exterior and you think you see Renjun’s face grow pinkish. You smile at the man behind the counter, in his late fifties and smile still somehow as bright as yours.
“What’s the problem, dear?” he asks, glancing at your laptop. “You know I can’t help with software issues.”
“I know,” you say, “But I’ve tried every guide on the internet and there’s still unnecessary noise.”
He clicks around your screen for a few seconds.
“Have you tried getting a better mic?”
“Uh.”
Renjun snickers beside you before promptly apologizing at the two pairs of eyes on him. You didn’t bring him here just to embarrass yourself in front of him. Your cheeks flush as you tell the man you’ll come another day with your mic, before heading to the supplements aisle. Renjun follows you quietly, silent laughter yet still etched over his face and he looks away when you glare at him.
“Are you sure you wanna buy the wooden drumsticks?” Renjun asks, picking up the carbon fibre ones instead.
“Jeno loves the wooden ones,” you defend. “And you really think those are within my budget?”
Renjun shrugs, keeping them back in place.
“Feels like I’m shopping for babies,” he mutters.
There’s a second’s pause before he straightens, a particular discomfort in his being. “Not- Not like my babies or something. I- I meant—”
“I know what you meant,” you say, trying very hard to hold in your laughter.
“I don’t like that face you’re making.”
“You don’t always have to explain yourself,” you smile before heading to the counter.
The scent of rain makes you nostalgic. You step outside with Renjun and into the sound of rain against pavement. It’s wet and damp, and your hair clings to your skin in that horrific discomfort of humidity, truly one of the worst cruelties of rain. You make a face but an idea strikes you smack across the forehead.
You gasp.
“This can be our stage!” you declare, spreading your arms.
Renjun pulls your arms down. “Don’t block the sidewalk!”
“Sorry.”
You shove your bag onto Renjun, bewildering him even further. The sleeves of the jacket he rolled up, fall into place again as he raises an eyebrow at you.
“This,” you say, waving your arms about, “Should be a stage.”
“Huh?”
Renjun looks unconvinced at your flailing and you sigh.
“The rain!” you say, trying to sound as enthusiastic as you can. “Isn’t it romantic? You’ve never thought what it would be like playing in the rain?”
“Uh, inconvenient?”
You groan. “Come on! Picture it for a second.”
You give it a moment before showing him what you mean. Renjun bursts into laughter at your air guitar performance, suddenly unaware of the pit-a-pat.
“It would be nice,” he says, his teeth poking against his lips. He places the bags under the shaded entrance of the store before stepping into the drizzle.
Pitter, patter.
Renjun flashes you a goofy smile, shaking the water out of his hair only for the rain to come in stronger. With raindrops caught on eyelashes, you can only think of the soft, rising melodies that come in movie scenes like these, except it’s a lot more uncomfortable than they show it to be. You smoothen your hair, getting slightly frizzy due to the raindrops. You’ve always wanted to do things out of line and out of regularity and it’s not just because of the price sticker spelling ‘youth’ that clings to your back—but now, is it selfish to just want to stay under the rain?
In a way it feels just the same as ever; like singing barefoot on an asphalt road, cooling rains and people around, without a care each. You tell Renjun about the time you were stranded by the bus stop under heavy downpour for so long, you decided to walk home with pneumonia a step behind you and he tells you that you’re an idiot. It’s nothing unusual but it makes you smile when he laughs at you.
The rain slows again before you can start to shiver, chest rising and falling with each breath that fills your lungs.
“I have a song!” you declare, eyes shining. “A love song. We’ve never done a love song.”
“A love song?” Renjun asks, laughing almost. “You want to write a radio love song? Why?”
“Because, Huang Renjun, there’s not a thing in the world that isn’t made for love.”
Renjun pauses before wrinkling his nose. “Don’t preach me.”
The clap of thunder startles the two of you out of calm. It’s not so much the screams that left your mouths simultaneously as the looks you get from passersby. Renjun looks at you the same time as you look at him, his ears red and eyes nervous.
“Lightning doesn’t- Lightning doesn’t strike in the middle of the city, does it?” Renjun asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, like a hare stranded in the middle of a busy road.
“I don’t know!” You respond, pulling him by the sleeve to the nearest cover. “I don’t want to know.”
Renjun grabs your hand and you realize with a thump in your heart the effect of it. He pulls you to the side, saving your jeans from the fate of getting splashed by muddy water courtesy of an oncoming car.
“Ooh, quick reflex,” you say, despite the clanging of cymbals inside your ribcage.
He shrugs, picking up the bags and shoving yours to your chest.
“Ow?”
“Don’t look at me like that. You know why.”
“You know, you’re not as grumpy as I thought you were. You’re still petty, though.”
“Thanks.”
When you’re back to the bandroom, you find Donghyuck snoring on the couch with an even more worn out Jaemin sitting cross legged on the floor and his head against Donghyuck's knee. Jeno looks like he’s in a world of his own, tapping away at his phone in a game he seems to be losing at.
“Why are you guys wet?” Jaemin asks, cracking an eye open. “Had some life-changing experience?”
“Not really.” You shrug. “Why do you guys look dead?”
“I am dead,” Donghyuck mumbles in his sleep to which Jaemin shakes his head.
“He didn’t even do the entire cleaning…”
You hope the skip in your steps isn’t too obvious. You have a song and this time, it feels pure in a way that you haven’t made before.
“I hope you guys came up with a beat,” you call.
“Uh, about that—”
“I have a new song!” you announce bouncing on the balls of your feet.
Your declaration is met with a bunch of smiles. Soon enough, everyone in the room is up and to their positions in a matter of minutes.
Music isn’t about being eye-catching, considering the eyes have nothing to do with it anyway. You signal Renjun who in turn, clears his throat.
A strum of guitar string. Four notes on the keys. Bass. A beat on the drums.
“One. Two. Ah, one, two, three, four!”
The cafeteria is jam packed at three a.m so it’s a good thing you brought Renjun here an hour early. So, your top secret, full resistance, avant-garde mission? Your new song and the one for Renjun, of course.
“So this is top secret,” you whisper when he sits down from across you.
“I’m sure it is,” he snickers.
You pass your notebook to him, scribbles neater than usual. (That’s only because you rewrote the song in a new page.) You start your laptop, waiting for the screen to load as Renjun goes over the lines.
“My dreams and I don’t get along,” Renjun reads aloud before furrowing his brows.
Ah, I hate people.
I hate my friends too.
And I love saying that which isn’t true.
“Oh, very funny, (name),” Renjun scorns, crossing his arms. “Is that what you think of me?”
You chuckle to yourself. Maybe it was a little petty, but you love the look on Renjun’s face when he’s annoyed, nerves a second away from being completely fried. Just for fun. This was just for fun.
Somewhere along, however, you can’t deny the essence of him you’d so hopelessly wanted to capture in the melody, in rhythm and timbre, orchestral almost. It’s each note of the piano he plays to himself late at night in the bandroom, each featherlight hit on the cymbal and the song you hum to yourself on the bus ride to classes every morning.
It’s a love song.
You break into a sudden coughing fit at the thought, Renjun flinching before offering you his bottle of water. Somehow, the gentle hand on your back trying to ease you gives you yet another reason to support your unwanted epiphany. That’s just ridiculous. It’s something natural between friends, isn’t it? Yet, you’d gag at the idea of writing Donghyuck into a song.
You calm down and meet Renjun’s eyes, the glint of something familiar making you pause.
“Water?” he offers, and you straighten.
“I had the stupidest thought,” you say, trying to laugh it off.
You can’t do it. You can’t make light of it with him.
“When do you not?” he says, a soft smile on his face.
You smile awkwardly in response, avoiding his eyes as you rub circles on the soft flesh between your thumb and forefinger.
It’s quiet, much more than not, distant buzzing of the 3 a.m. university cafeteria crowds drifting through the space between you and him.
“Do you ever- Do you ever think about doing it?” Renjun asks.
You blink before feeling warmth on your cheeks.
“Doing what, Renjun? That’s a little too private to ask. I mean, I could answer, of c—”
It doesn’t take long for him to burn bright vermillion at the cheeks.
“I- I didn’t say that,” he defends, stuttering over the words. “I was talking about making music. Do you ever think about it or do you just do it?”
“Oh,” you respond intelligently, the embarrassment making you flush harder. Funny, you used to laugh the loudest at these sorts of mistakes. “I don’t- I don’t know. I think about it after I’ve… made it?”
You scratch the back of your head awkwardly.
“You… do like it, don’t you?” he asks, something akin to worry in his eyes.
You hum, smiling. “Of course I like it, Renjun.”
No. The truth is, you don’t even know how it makes you feel. The truth is, you do feel sick listening to your own song over and over again. Have you run far enough? Do you have to be running for this?
You seem scared. Is that what he wanted to tell you? You can’t be that easy to see through, you resist. When he held your hand earlier, could he feel it shake?
You’re so afraid that all of this is for naught that you can’t feel it anymore. You hardly make music for yourself, for no one else to hear. Is that what you wanted? When you wrote Not Feeling Spring, were you searching for something you desperately wanted or something you lost? You’re only twenty and you’re aging.
You snap yourself out of the whirlpool of questions to a drowsy Renjun playing with the bracelet around his wrist, lost in his own circle of thoughts.
“I wanted to give up on this,” he whispers suddenly. “I wanted to give up on music.”
You hold your breath till he looks at you, a strange sense of vulnerability that makes you want to reach over the table and share some of the warmth your palm offers.
You’ve already drawn the conclusion.
“You’re not alone,” you say, leaning in with the widest grin.
Renjun rolls his eyes. “Are you saying that to comfort me? It barely has any effect. Thanks, th—”
You shake your head, standing up abruptly and scrambling onto the tabletop. It’s the perfect time to be a little ridiculous. Renjun looks around, alarmed, tugging at you to get down which, unfortunately, draws even more attention.
“Raise your hand if you’ve ever wanted to give up on music!”
There’s a moment of pause before laughter erupts, followed by a few cheers and almost as many raised hands as you’d expected. Some of them tell you to get back to your date, or focus on completing overdue assignments—friends and friends of friends. They are music students, after all.
Renjun looks around the place, rosy hued in the face, though he isn’t as angry as you thought he’d be.
“I almost never started,” you say, giggling as you resume in your seat. “Giving up came so much later.”
Renjun laughs. You don’t even have to make music out of it.
“I tried to give up the piano,” he admits, still flushed. “But I couldn’t break the habit of playing against my desk. Even then.”
You smile, resting your chin against your palm. “That sounds just like you. Now tell me, when did you discover flumpool?”
Renjun frowns and you feel an uncharacteristic thump in your chest. You want to draw your finger against his cheeks and the space between his brows, against the strained lines—the thought of it much more scandalous than the action itself.
“I didn’t- My parents didn’t- ugh.” He hesitates. “Look, everyone hated my style of music. My parents, the neighbours, their dogs.
Your eyes soften as you sit up. “I’m sure they didn’t hate it—”
“No, trust me on this one.”
Suddenly the honey tint of his voice is dripping a dangerously low baritone. It doesn’t sound like him and it sends a shiver down your spine, a certain coldness you never thought would seep into you. It is the loneliness of curbed dreams, after all.
“I thought I should’ve given up on music altogether. Became, what, a doctor? A lawyer?” Renjun sighs. “Whatever I do, it shouldn’t be music, right?”
He heaves a sigh in sync with you. There’s a passing moment in between where you can clearly see the apple of his eye, shining a daunting amber and a warmth you can only feel over coffee tables in university cafeterias at midnight.
“But you’re here now because this is the closest you can be to music?” you offer, your smile sheepish.
Renjun laughs, your eyebrows furrowing as he tries to stop. “No. No, classical music was the last option on their list—but it was on the list.”
You smile, although it is small and gentle. And—unlike anything you’ve felt since you jumped onto the adulthood train.
“They like it now, though,” he beams, shoulders relaxing as if rid of a burden.“I mean- They said- They said they’re proud of me.”
When someone decides to confide their happiness to you, it is just as precious.
You look up, eyes bright as you finally get to ruffle his hair. “Well, I’m proud of you too!”
Renjun coughs indiscreetly, shaking his head before facing you. “Th-Thanks. It’s… good to hear.”
“Say it back,” you demand, making Renjun laugh.
“I’m… proud of you,” he says with rose-tinted cheeks.
The midnight chatter grows louder when the two of you pause. A symphony of voices through the area, higher pitches and lower, baritones and trebles. You wonder what people talk about most when you are quiet. You have friends—it’s not like you’re alone, per se. But everyone seems to be running, away from something or towards something. Your bones feel heavy for a second as you stir the coffee. Is it selfish to just want to get to know someone? Neither of you moving a muscle, with laughter that isn’t carried away by the wind.
“I didn’t think I’d be good at anything apart from classical,” he says, reluctance in his mouth. “Sorry about all that ruckus I caused when you asked me to join.”
You raise an eyebrow, nose wrinkling at the apology. “Renjun. It sucks when you apologize.”
He groans. “You’re really annoying, you know that? I was being nice.”
“I know,” you say, grinning. “It was all forgiven a long time ago. Can’t believe you had to say it out loud.”
“Oh, pardon me,” he says, voice rising. “I was taking into consideration your below average understanding of social cues.”
“You’re going to get smacked.”
That night, when you leave Renjun at the intersection to your respective dorms, you have yet another unwanted epiphany. He waves you goodbye with a smile, pale blue T-shirt hanging loose on his shoulders and you wave back as ardently as you can against your prominent heartbeat. Huang Renjun has the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen.
Some days, you take the bus together to and from classes. It’s not like the dorms are far but walks are considerably less fun when you’ve barely rubbed the sleep dust out of your eyes and class started ten minutes ago. Besides, you’re not letting the student bus pass go to waste.
Rattle. Rattle. Woosh.
You yawn and it quickly spreads to Renjun beside you. Classes are over and there’s no practice today. You can hear a popular song play through his earphones and tilt your head to look at him, a suppressed smile on your face. Renjun does a double take when he notices you, a little flustered as he quietly offers the other earbud and you put it on with a short word of thanks.
It is a track by one of Seoul’s favourite bands and you’re not going to lie, say you haven’t fallen prey to its charms. A catchy baseline, engaging drums and attractive vocals—you stop yourself. When was the last time you enjoyed a song without deconstructing it piece by piece? You sigh and Renjun shifts beside you, though no words part from his lips.
Absentmindedly, you find your head drawing nearer to his till they bump once and you startle away, only to laugh at each other. Is this another useless epiphany of yours? That Renjun has a lovely laugh—these are getting out of hand.
You look out the window instead, skyscrapers shiny and metallic as always and with little to offer. Unwittingly, a pout climbs onto your face at the prospect of feelings bubbling up right when you’re setting Renjun up on a date. He doesn’t know, of course. It’s meant to be a surprise and somehow, the little voice in your head won’t stop yelling at maximum volume inside your head about how wrong this is. Is it selfish? To an extent—nothing ever is purely selfless and you haven’t lived long enough to question. So why are you even bothering with this whole surprise?
Because you don’t want to think about the feelings. As if they’re things to be thought about. As if you can throw them away into the trash bin like a crumpled piece of paper.
An elderly couple boards the bus, sharing a large shopping bag as they take slow, careful steps over the aisle. Renjun responds almost at the same time you do, getting up so quickly Renjun has to hold on to the strap so as to not trip over you. The couple thanks you and you nod politely, trying not to bring attention to the earphones tangled around your necks.
You take a step closer in an attempt to separate the wires but it only makes you lose balance, Renjun clutching the cloth at your back so you don’t faceplant right into him. The other hand hangs overhead on the strap, grasping so tight his skin has turned red.
He glances at the old couple once, blood rushing to his cheeks at something and he turns his focus back to you.
“The- The wires- We should—”
Young love isn’t what this is. How silly. There’s enough of that all around.
“That’s what I was trying,” you interrupt. “Wait.”
You use your hands to pull the bud from your ear, trying to figure out how the loop even coiled this way. Renjun’s hand pushes against your waist at the sudden jerk, your soul almost leaving your body at the unexpected feeling of falling down. You breathe out, cheeks getting warmer. This isn’t quite uncomfortable, though.
When you look up to meet Renjun’s eyes, you feel something faint, a hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on.
“There,” you say, the wires all out of their miserable twining.
Renjun barely nods, the music still blasting loud and clear through the buds. His hand still holds the strap for balance, and the other still holds you, for reasons private.
There’s a warm flush over his face when he mumbles about crowded buses and the afternoon heat, eyes averted to every corner but you.
You laugh. Renjun is adorable when he least expects to be. And when you least expect him to be, he’s even terribly attractive. You swear by the way he’s looking at you, if you leaned in a little further, he’d let you kiss him.
Wait, what?
You sober up quickly, in a moment of clarity you do not wish to have. You’ve never felt the weight of the feelings this intense. Yours isn’t the name he should be calling out so affectionately. Her. Anyone else. You were so sure of it. Huang Renjun’s fleeting interest in romance doesn’t involve you—cannot involve you.
That’s why you’re doing him (and yourself) a favour. Besides, you promised it anyway, didn’t you?
You gulp.
When did you start explaining yourself for everything you do?
Step, screech, step.
“Where the fuck are you even taking me?” Renjun complains from behind you, light on his foot. “You said it’s not too far away.”
“It’s a surprise!” You stop walking to cross your arms.
“I hate it when you say that.”
How would he react? You think he’ll get a little angry, maybe scowl at you or even yell a little. You haven’t been able to look him in the eye longer than two seconds for about a week now.
“Ta-da!”
You stretch your arms to point towards the new cafe in town. Renjun looks at you and then the cafe and back again.
“You’re taking me on a coffee date?”
You choke on air, coughing before you can clear your throat and clarify.
“Not- Not me. Remember I promised you a date with—”
“No.”
“Yes! Wait, is that disbelieving no or are you saying you’re not going to go?”
Renjun closes his eyes and sighs, as if dealing with a toddler. “I’m not going. Why didn’t you say anything? I’m not prepared or anything!”
Something takes a tumble and falls inside your chest. You smile at him nevertheless.
“Don’t be shy now. She’s waiting, come on.”
Renjun shifts his weight from foot to foot, but it seems equally uncomfortable on each. He peers intently at you, looking up and down your face before pressing his lips together.
“Have fun,” you wish.
You push Renjun towards the door and he hesitates, some part of you expecting a little more resistance. He shrugs, although he seems to be holding back a smile. This isn’t the time, you tell yourself.
You turn on your heel before you lose your final excuse to be able to say that you are not completely enamored with Huang Renjun.
The afternoon would be more peaceful if it weren’t for Donghyuck and Renjun yelling at each other. This time, you’re not to blame.
“That’s not how you tie a bow tie!” Donghyuck complains, though Renjun won’t let him anywhere near.
“I know you’re trying to get back at me for drawing on your face last Saturday,” Renjun yells back. “But this is the pre-annual concert. You’re not fucking anything up.”
Donghyuck grumbles before settling down. Four music performance majors and yet none of them know how to do a bow tie—if it weren’t for you, Renjun might have ended up with his usual askew one. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, and you’d just rather not look at him too long anyway.
Formal white shirt, a much debated black bow tie and polished black dress shoes on Renjun aren’t strange to look at—in fact, they quite suit him when, despite its striking colour, his hair is parted neatly to the side. But they’re all so out of place in the bandroom, monochrome against messes, that you start to wonder if you simply think too much about him. That all of his colours and melodies are just there for you to notice.
It’s not true, of course.
But when did you become a cynic?
“I’m going out,” Donghyuck says, huffing, “Why are they taking so long to buy ramen?”
Oh no. No, no, no. You try to mask your panic. Is one person enough to check up on Jaemin and Jeno? Would it be weird if you left too? Before you can answer those questions, you and Renjun are the only ones left in the room. You stand awkwardly by the couch, Renjun a few feet away, smoothing out the creases on his shirt.
You clear your throat, bringing his attention to you.
Nice going.
“So how was your date?”
You had to ask that, didn’t you?
The voice in your head has never been so loud before. When your question goes unanswered, you look up from the highly interesting floorboards to Renjun trying very hard to fight a snort.
“We talked about the recitals, extra lessons. Joked about you being an idiot.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”
“Chaerim’s not interested in guys.” Renjun laughs. “I thought you knew!”
There’s a pause.
“Wait, you were serious about setting me up with her?”
You stare a little too intensely at the space between your feet. Why would you choose now of all times to be coy? You keep yourself from swearing out loud.
“I- I didn’t know, okay?”
You feel the heat over your cheeks, the sound of everything other than your own heartbeat drowning out. A few more seconds pass and you worry more.
“Don’t set me up on dates,” Renjun says, a sigh leaving his lips. “It’ll never work out.”
“What? Why?”
Renjun falters only to cover it up. “I- I… Why do you keep avoiding me?”
You can’t answer that.
“Setting me up on a date, never looking at me when you talk to me—are you going by the book or something?”
You hold your breath. He’s not misunderstanding and it only makes matters worse.
“All that because you don’t want to be in love with me?”
“Renjun, that’s not—”
“So what is it?”
You look up from your restless fingers and regret it almost immediately. The way Renjun looks at you, it damn near breaks your heart. His nose is a pale shade of red, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with undecided words.
“Am I- Am I dreaming everything up? Just tell me you don’t like me. I thought I made myself obvious.”
You can feel your pulse against your eardrums, ready to burst open any second.
“Renjun. It’s not about this,” you say, voice strangely low. “It’s about music—It’s always about music. I can’t risk anything.”
“Risk? What risk? You’re afraid you’re going to stop making music when you’re with me?”
“No—”
“You just want your songs on the Billboard charts?
“And what if I do? I just want to be heard—”
You can barely breathe at the lack of distance between the two of you. Renjun looks straight into your eyes and you remember why your heart has been hammering in the first place.
“So it isn’t about music.”
You fall silent. It’s not wrong to want to succeed. But it’s never been about that. You were preparing yourself for a race while you repeated your love for it that was never there. Music is not a race and so, it is not the race you love.
“I didn’t want to be rich or famous,” Renjun says, voice lower than usual. “I don’t want to be rich or famous.”
But a musician does not want to be forgotten, does he?
For once, Renjun is fearless and you are not.
“There are worse things,” Renjun says, breath against your cheek and a rapid pulsing in your wrists. You look from his eyes to lips before breathing out slowly, eyelids growing heavy despite yourself.
The sudden bang makes the two of you jump away from each other.
Donghyuck kicks the door open, hands occupied with steaming instant ramen cups and Jeno walks in with the sprite.
“Jaemin’s paying and we forgot our wallets,” Jeno offers an explanation when you raise an eyebrow.
You clear your throat awkwardly as the two scrutinize you with eyes you’re not yet ready to meet. You know you’ll never hear the end of this and better yet, you can pretend it never happened.
“Aren’t you supposed to get going?” Jeno asks, struggling to balance this month’s entire supply of ramen while Donghyuck holds the top of the pile.
Renjun responds with a soft ‘yeah’, eyes glancing at you once before he grabs his coat.
“I’ll see you for practice then.”
With that, the sounds inside your chest draw to a deafening close.
You’d think Doyoung would perform with his own band at his brother’s wedding.
(“I don’t want to work on the day my brother gets married.”
“I thought you work as a bartender?”
“Oh, dear.”)
You’re not complaining, of course. The longer you spend in the bandroom, the more suffocated you feel. You can’t meet Renjun’s eyes and neither can he meet yours. You rejected him, for fuck’s sake. It cannot get any more awkward than that. Any distraction will do.
This might be the first time you’ve been to a wedding on a Thursday night. At the very least, you’re happy about it being an outdoor wedding, the cool night air refreshing you the moment you step into the garden. It’s fairly large and you know Doyoung’s brother is an actor, but it never really struck you how wealthy that meant.
“There’s a chocolate fountain?!” Donghyuck gasps, walking towards it before Jaemin grabs him by the collar.
“Stage. We’re being called.”
Donghyuck massages his neck before he decides to give everyone an unnecessary pep talk.
“Look, Renjun, you better sing like that’s your ex, who you’re still in love with, getting married,” Donghyuck turns to advise a deadpanning Renjun.
“I- what? You should do that yourself.”
You smile at them encouragingly, smacking Donghyuck a little too hard on the back (you need payback for him “borrowing” your lunch on Monday) and stand at the sidelines. Donghyuck’s guitar seems to be the brightest thing in the venue, followed by Renjun’s hair. Unfortunately for Jeno, they couldn’t get the whole drum set in and the puppy dog look on his face when he sees the box-shaped cajón might have affected you some other day.
They perform as usual, if not more enthusiastic to be in front of a crowd that isn’t drunk or worn out or both. The love songs you wrote came to be useful, after all. The muse of them, however, stands out even now.
This time, your heart skips a beat to meet Renjun’s eyes. And he doesn’t take them off you the entire performance.
The soft vibrato of his voice doesn’t fade easy, the crowd clapping along to the song with encouraging laughter. You move to the drinks table—it’s a good thing the wedding has a no kids rule because there’s alcohol you haven’t heard of at the bar table. Or maybe it isn’t a good thing. You’d love to see the look on Doyoung’s face when some rebellious twelve year-old chugs a shot of vodka. The thought makes you giggle.
You keep your word, even if you were drunk when you’d said it. You didn’t drink at any of the gigs, mostly because Doyoung wouldn’t offer anything for free, but a deal’s a deal. This doesn’t count, does it?
You take the shot after a few moments of contemplation. You’d ordered it on impulse and whatever dare of whim you have left in you.
Unbeknownst to you, the songs had stopped about five minutes ago, enough time for Renjun and the rest to appear at your side.
“Doyoung never said there’d be alcohol,” Donghyuck says, not trying very hard to hide the sparkles in his eyes.
Renjun doesn’t say a word, not even at the obvious flush over your cheeks from the drinks.
“I need to go to the washroom,” you say, wobbling as you stand.
“Woah, (name),” Jaemin says, steadying you. “Take someone with you.”
“I’ll go.”
You avoid Renjun’s eyes, even now. Looks like shame isn’t as easy to wash away as it seems.
You can’t hear anything apart from your pulse, a rather disarming thing to have to listen to when it’s for long enough. You walk wordlessly to the building, locating the washroom after a few twists and turns and Renjun waits patiently for you outside.
It’s always bizarre to see yourself in the mirror of a public washroom, especially with alcohol in your system and a flush over your cheeks that you think makes you look cute. You rinse your face and dry it before you exit.
Renjun leans back against the wall, eyes glazed over in thoughts he spills only occasionally. He looks gentle in the fairly lit hallway, under lemon-coloured lights.
“Renjun,” you call absentmindedly.
He straightens immediately and for the first time in a while, you stare at each other for longer than four seconds.
“I don’t want you to feel awkward around me,” you begin. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean—”
“Cut it out.”
You feel a drop in your heart at the harshness in his tone. Even so, you don’t feel any less drawn to him.
“Don’t be like that,” you say, voice nearing a whine. “You know I’m not any good at this. I… I have so much work to do.”
“Are you so insecure that you can't trust yourself?” he hisses, and somehow the truth of it doesn’t lessen the euphoria of proximity with him.
“You have pretty eyes, Renjun,” you say, but his eyes are not what you’re looking at.
Renjun looks down, sighing out heavily. “Stop this, (name). Don’t play.”
You smile. “This isn’t a drama, you know?”
It really isn’t, but the touch you're craving has been collecting, drip drip drip, and now it’s ready to boil over in a climax befitting any stupid drama. There should be a soundtrack to go with it, right? Renjun’s face so near to yours, lips full and pink, and heartbeat erratic under dim lights. Temptation has never been a sin to you. Then, what are you afraid of?
For a moment, Arctic Monkey’s Snap Out of It loops in your head.
“Can I kiss you?” you ask, the last shred of your senses fallen apart.
He falls silent, at a loss for words you don’t want to hear.
You can’t blame the alcohol. It’s not that you wouldn’t do this sober—it’s that you would definitely do this sober, and all would be ruined just like that. So now, while you’re under the thinly veiled excuse of being drunk, you might as well say it.
“I want to kiss you,” you repeat, bolder.
Oh, sudden proximity can make you aware of so many things. For instance, Renjun has changed his cologne, less minty and more citrus. You aren’t even looking at him when you lean closer, pressing your lips softly and yet carelessly against his. You feel returned pressure and for a moment, the wash of numbness.
Renjun pulls you away by the shoulder, eyes wide in panic.
“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Why are you apologizing? God, I hate you. I could listen to you speaking forever.”
You bury your face in Renjun’s neck and breathe in. He gives in almost too soon, a hand gently resting against the back of your head while his arm wraps around your waist.
“Let’s get you home,” he whispers.
You feel him shift, the rhythm of his pulse loud in his jugular, and somehow it makes you breathe a sigh of relief. The night fades little by little into the chatter of crowds, to the the hum of a car engine and finally, to the inevitable quiet of your own bedroom.
It’s a Friday. They’re supposed to be nice.
Of course, it would be were it not for a list of things. One: your fading hangover. Two: the vague regret of a drunk kiss. Three: your friends you can’t tell a word to. You might just die of shame before the autumnal existential dread settles in.
“Do you guys have any idea whose number this is?” Donghyuck asks, holding the handkerchief open for the rest of you to see. “I don’t want to be accidentally related to Doyoung hyung.”
The night is bleeding into the evening outside as Jaemin stands up to flip the light switches. You stay curled up at one side of the couch, Renjun by the keys as he tries to figure out a tune and a state of calm that would be perfect if you weren’t falling apart inside. The bandroom always made you feel at ease, but it doesn't seem to be working its charm now.
“You drink too much,” Jaemin states. “You would’ve remembered if you didn’t have an entire bottle of soju.”
“I wasn’t the only one,” he defends, sending you a pointed look. You roll your eyes. Donghyuck never did learn to take the blame.
“Didn’t Renjun and (name) leave early?” Jeno asks innocently. “What were you guys doing for so long by the washroom?”
Renjun presses on several of the keys at a force too hard, the haphazard symphony bringing everyone’s attention to him.
He awkwardly clears his throat. “Home—the dorms, er. We went back. Taeil hyung drove us.”
You don’t know about the atmosphere, but you could definitely cut something with a knife right now. Your eyes shift from person to person, nothing unusual about them except for the two of you.
“Does anyone want to come get ramen? I’m hungry,” Jaemin suggests quietly.
Jeno shrugs, getting up.
“I just had a cup of ramen,” Donghyuck begins before breaking into a smile. “Too much ramen can never hurt.”
“I’ll pass,” you say, ready to fall asleep any moment, if it somehow alleviates the messy scribbles in your head.
“Me too,” Renjun says, back to playing out the tunes softly.
Your fingers tap against the armrest of the couch, occasionally scratching it out of boredom. The atmosphere is still just as thick but you can't say much about it hanging there.
“You’re not sleeping,” Renjun says suddenly, more of a statement than a question. “You look tired.”
“Yeah.” It’s all you can manage.
“Is your hangover gone?”
You cough when you try to answer, getting more nervous with each passing moment.
Renjun slowly walks towards the coffee table, picking up the bottle of water to offer it to you. You utter a short ‘thanks’ and before he can get back, you tug at his sleeve. Your breathing is sharp but you don’t react much when he sits beside you, legs outstretched in front of him.
“Your roots are showing,” you note, hand involuntarily reaching out before you stop yourself.
Renjun sighs. “What’s wrong? You don’t- You don’t have to—”
He clears his throat.
“—You don’t have to pretend around me.”
There’s a rustle of cloth as he shifts to turn to you, eyes concerned when they look over.
“I’m just...sad,” you admit, the feeling weighing down when you do. “What, you never have days like these?”
Everyone does, don’t they? The truth is, sometimes you get a little sick listening to your songs. If you don’t hate it at least once, is it worth it at all?
The monthly breakdowns have taken a hard turn now that you don’t have much to do. No exams, no more weekly gigs due to Odd Fruit’s renovation and most importantly, hardly any inspiration. You don’t know how to do things unless you’re on the run. It’s so stupid.
You speak of dreams and yet, yours feel void.
“I do. A lot, some weeks.”
Renjun hesitates. You know he’s dying to talk about last night, he’s never been the sort to let feelings rot inside his stomach. But how do you tell him that despite knowing life’s full of ups and downs, no one’s bothered to explain to you which is which? You’ve never lived life with clarity.
Sometimes life hands you tangerines instead of lemons. Sometimes they’re still as sour.
You look back at Renjun, heart churning with feelings you don’t understand. From wide eyes to his full lips, there’s a way you can’t help but stare. It wasn’t the alcohol—you still want to kiss him. Maybe you should start with an apology, maybe those are meant to be said out loud sometimes.
“I’m sorry I… I ‘m sorry I kissed you,” you say, finally. “Without warning.”
You wonder how you turned into this. Head over heels for something that might not even be real.
“I’m not mad,” he mumbles, “Just don’t go around kissing strangers.”
You let out a short laugh, rubbing your arm. It’s not like you to explain yourself but for him, you’d spill every single thought that crosses your head. Does he know that? You’d never let him but now—you can’t say you mind.
Quiet.
“I- I may not always know what I’m doing, Renjun,” you start. “I want things and I don’t know how to get them. Sometimes I don’t even know what I truly want.”
There’s a short pause when Renjun draws nearer.
“You want to make music,” he says with certainty, gaze trailing over your eyes, then nose, then lips. “You want to have fun…”
Your heartbeat quickens despite everything.
“...And right now, you want to kiss me.”
It’s partly the confidence, and partly the fact that his lips are less than three inches from yours, that you close the gap without hesitation.
It’s different—of course, it’s different this time. There’s no goddamn alcohol and the amount of clarity you can taste with your mouths pressed together is more than you’ve ever had. All the sounds in the world fall silent, replaced by the rhythm of your lips moving against his. Renjun’s hair is soft and he hums when you run your fingers through them, not song enough but still full of melody.
You pull apart after a few minutes, breathing heavily before you push your lips against him again, rising to keep your leg on either side of him. For a moment, there’s a sinking feeling and then a soaring one, and it evens out to the mellow drumming of your heart against your chest as Renjun holds your waist with the same delicate desire as ever.
The second time you pull apart, Renjun breaks into the widest smile you’ve ever seen on him. You can’t help but reciprocate, burying your head against his shoulder.
“I think you should get off me.”
You pull back, frowning severely.
“Oh, that’s very romantic,” you huff, eyebrows furrowed as you move to sit beside him, crossing your arms.
“Hey.”
You look at him and he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the back. Somehow, the gesture calms a part of you down, a part that hasn’t been calm for a very long time. You smile without realizing, leaning in for another kiss when the door slams open.
You yelp, clutching Renjun’s hand harder with just about the same force he does.
“Jeno.”
You turn around to see Jaemin glaring at Jeno on his knee, Donghyuck fallen over his leg and both of their faces scrunched in pain. Jaemin shoots the two of you an embarrassed smile, scratching the back of his head.
“Did you guys know this room isn’t all that soundproof? I can’t believe the neighbours didn’t complain.”
The tip of Renjun’s ears flare red, and he points an accusing finger at the three of them.
“You were spying on us!”
Jaemin clears his throat but Donghyuck snorts before he can say anything.
“You’re still holding hands, lover boy.”
The statement flusters Renjun further but he doesn’t let go.
“Look, did the two of you think we’re stupid?” Donghyuck continues. “God, we thought your pining romance would, like, break up our band or something.”
You flush deeper, averting your eyes.
“You cry at romantic comedies,” Renjun provokes.
Donghyuck stutters something incomprehensive before crossing his arms indignantly.
“We’re glad you’re dating now!” Jaemin butts in. “Ah, I can’t wait for all the love songs. The two of you do great on those!”
Renjun turns a brighter shade of red. You’re not going to be the one to tell Jaemin that he’s not helping at all but you sigh instead, resting your forehead against Renjun’s shoulder.
“Ugh,” Donghyuck makes a gagging sound. “Does this mean you’re going to be all heart eyes in here? Right in front of my innocent eyes?”
He shuts up when he receives four glares all at once, the air turning dry.
“I’m guessing you guys didn’t buy any ramen,” Renjun says, sighing.
“Shall we go?” you ask, looking at him.
He nods, smiling at you.
“You guys don’t mind us crashing your date, do you?” Jaemin says, wrapping an arm each around the two of you.
“I’m not complaining.” You shrug.
“I heard there’s a new flavour. Tastes like crap apparently,” Renjun says.
There’s collective laughter and Renjun beams, walking over to the door with you in tow. Every once in a while, you don’t mind peeling off the layers of a tangerine, especially since winter is near.
You were right, Renjun did change his perfume to something more citrus-y. It’s the little things that build up in simplicity and it’s the little things that give everything flavour, from songs to journeys.
Crackle. Shrrk. Rustle.
“Dream,” you say, the noodles slipping through the chopsticks.
The others look at you quizzically, as if you’d suggested the most ridiculous thing ever.
“That’s the name. Our band!”
Under the convenience store lights, it somehow makes sense—and that’s one of the only moments of clarity you need.
#nct dream scenarios#nct renjun#cznnet#neowritingsnet#renjun x reader#nct dream x reader#nct dream imagines#renjun fluff#nct dream fluff#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct dream#moonwrites#anyway hope you guys have fun this is way longer than i intended for it to be i am mad#and i know i only recommended songs from idol bands but it's always good to check out the krock scene lol!!#rock band!au#tw:alcohol#so this wont show up on tags heart been broke so many times </3
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A Cage of Moonlight and Magic:
You guys asked for a collab so here’s collab number one, with the one and only @nightfrostshadow ! We had a blast writing this and bouncing ideas off one another, so sit back and enjoy :)
******
“Listen to me carefully,” Supervillain held Villain’s chin, slid his hand so casually near his circus pet’s neck- his throat. “Those water and ice crystals are not yours at all. They are mine, you hear me? They are the audience’s. You exist only to provide entertainment, to provide glory. But you are neither of these things without your powers.” He stepped back, peering at his subject with a glimmer in his eyes.
“I’ll kill you,” Villain promised. “Someday when you least expect it, I will do it.” He’d said this before, many times- with many bouts of frustration, confidence, and determination.
Supervillain laughed. “With water?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of being swept away by a current?” For once, Villain allowed a smile to curve upon his lips. Something wicked enraptured his thoughts- more than just murder; it was torture. “When the water is so fast, so strong, that your head never breaks surface ever again. You drown.”
The hand near Villain’s throat faltered, but ultimately tightened. “Don’t forget who you are speaking to.” And that was the end of that.
***
“I think it’s fun,” Hero said, “when the little kids’ faces curve into shining smiles. And the adults, too. I wonder how many grandparents have made our show their last one. What an honour, isn’t it, Villain? That we may be the last magic someone sees?”
Villain who had been gloomily forming a little water tornado in his palm looked up at Hero. “Absolutely not,” he scoffed, and the swirling water fell to the ground.
“Does it not bother you that we are nothing but tools to Supervillain?” Villain asked. “Meant to forever use our powers in such a pathetic way, to entertain people? Would you not rather be the one in power of your own life? To live free…free to do whatever we want with our powers instead of what Supervillain wants!” What a magnificent fantasy Villain let reel in his mind.
He shifted his body, knees dragging in the dirt- in his bed. “I’m reduced to having to put up waterwork shows. Waterworks can you believe it? Out of all the things I can do?”
A spritz of water in Hero’s direction. “And you.” He waited for Hero to meet his eyes. “With your stars and fireworks…you could do so much more. We could do so much more, Hero. Yet here we are, the famous opening act for Supervillain.”
Hero pondered over this as she thoughtfully looked down at her own hands, making little stars and sparkles erupt from her fingers, thus illuminating the surroundings. Such a great contrast to the darkening sky, she thought before answering Villain. “We bring light to the people watching, you know?” Literally, in Hero’s case.
“You could bring heat to them as well.” Villain was watching the little sparks in his co-worker’s hands as she’d spoken. Darkly, he thought, She could set the world ablaze if she wished. “Don’t you understand that we are animals to them? They think we are tamed.” He expected a response- anything besides Hero’s plain face. “That fact doesn’t bother you at all?” Villain’s voice pitched, incredulous.
Hero smiled slightly as she sent out a shower of sparkles raining down on them with a flick of her fingers and met Villain’s eyes as she spoke “I try not to think about it, you know? I just think of the good in every situation. It helps me be happy and peaceful. Besides, we’ve been here long enough; it’s not like we can leave so I just find the wonder in everything we do…it warms my heart to see the joy in people’s eyes as they watch us perform. You should try it, too, Villain.” She looked at him earnestly.
Villain stared at her in disbelief as he smiled bitterly,” There is nothing that can warm my heart here. Looking at the joy in peoples’ eyes as they don’t even care about us? Looking at them angers me even more. All they care about is watching the magic show in front of them. What has there been for us to celebrate in these past years?” Villain took a deep breath. “Nothing. I haven’t felt happiness in ages, Hero…and my heart?” He formed ice at the tips of his fingers as if to demonstrate- “It’s frozen.”
He sighed as he laid down on his bed- if you could even call it that. Once again he longed for the blanket he desperately needed, yet was never given on the cold winter nights.
***
“Up and at them, monsters.” Supervillain casted his light throughout the tent room, illuminating every square inch, every shadow hiding in every nook and cranny. He seemed to ignore his own monstrous ability.
Perhaps moonlight wasn’t such a devious subject to some, but to the magis, it was the cruellest of all magics- a searing light close to a large pane of lasers. The light hurt. And Supervillain was fond of using it every day, using it to wake his subjects up, to force them into the confines of a life hardly worth living. A circus like what they performed was better than the pain, but the pain was inescapable.
“We have a big show tonight. Some very esteemed guests will be making an appearance. You will all be expected to put on your best performance.”
As eyes creeped open, and quiet gasps and shouts of pain sounded around the dirt room, Supervillain’s lips curved into a bow. He did love the sounds and movements they made under his power- something incapable of being shown to an audience, per say, but something most definitely to be used behind closed curtains. He was thankful there was no expected sizzle to come from the burning skin of his subjects. The audience might hear that, and then what would his show be?
Villain rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself up onto his knees and collapsing in on himself to form a ball. The moonlight burned, as usual, but it was worse on this late night. He felt the light in all places, even those not accessible- hence the tight position he held himself in, a form of self-defence. Moonlight poured between his lips, filling his mouth in a pain that could only be expressed through blood-curdling screams.
Knowing Supervillain and his antics, Villain had the sense to guard the sounds he made in a self-made bubble. Should anyone outside this room hear his screams, they would become concerned; they might try to break into the performers’ room. Supervillain would do worse than let the moonlight flow inside Villain’s body, then.
“It feels like drowning, doesn’t it?” Supervillain asked, so suddenly knelt on the ground beside Villain’s bubble of muteness. “Do you regret your words from yesterday yet? Will you behave today?”
As experimental as Villain was with his powers, he never once tried to purposefully experience the feeling of drowning. Right now, though, he could imagine this burning inside his body must be what it felt like to breathe in water. He didn’t have gills despite many people’s beliefs. He knew the feeling of water shooting up one’s nose, of coughing and gagging on it with the ever-present idea of never breathing again. Water was scary, even he would admit.
It was in this moment that his bubble fell. Villain swallowed his screams, clenching every muscle in his body to prevent the sounds of continued pain. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say, if only to stop Supervillain’s act of revenge. “Won’t- won’t threaten you again.” But, of course, he would. The fight, the defiance, was in his blood.
Esteemed guests, he said? Villain focused on his thoughts as the moonlight slowly escaped his body. I’ll be sure to give them a show, then.
***
It hadn’t taken long for Hero’s eyes to widen with surprise as she’d watched Supervillain slowly stride on over to Villain with a look of admiration in his eyes. Meanwhile, Villain had been writhing in what was undoubtedly pain. She could just barely hear his agonized screams through the water he trapped himself in. It was as if she had been listening to him beneath the water surface of a pool- goodness she missed those. Her jaw, which had apparently been opened, snapped shut in a desperate moment to withhold an empathetic cry.
Hero thought back on the conversation she shared with Villain earlier that morning- about how horrible this life was.
Yes. Yes, she could agree that certain aspects of it weren’t preferable, but…well, Villain did this to himself, didn’t he? He pushed and prodded- he poked the bear if you would. Albeit horrible, Villain’s treatment was somewhat deserved.
This didn’t mean that Hero didn’t find the treatment absolutely gut-wrenching. Sometimes she had nightmares about the same pain coursing throughout her own body. Fortunately, they were dreams and she only knew the pain existed within them because of her unconscious hollers.
Either way, Hero knew she could never exist in that amount of pain. She might very well pass out, and then what use would she be to the show? What use would she be to herself? Those bright, smiling faces in the audiences warmed her in a way her powers never could. They kept her going. They kept her alive.
So, she would withstand those slight waves of pain every day. She would endure because any alternative was too frightening, too dooming.
“Five minutes!” Supervillain announced, and with that, he stepped out, flaps of the tent room snapping shut behind him.
Not wasting a moment, Hero crawled over to Villain, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay?”
His response was a glare. He shrugged her off. “Get ready,” he said simply. “We have a great show tonight and little time to prepare.”
What Hero didn’t see was the vengeance pooling in Villain’s stomach, much like the moonlight Supervillain had placed there just a minute ago.
***
Villain smirked as he stood in position with Hero, ready to open the show, waiting for the curtains to rise. In three, two…
The curtain rose and as the audience stared, no doubt waiting, excited to see what the show had in store for them, the cue was given and Hero prepared to do her part, hands twirling with both anticipation and preparation.
Watching Villain, she faltered, one hand clumsily colliding with the other…all because she noticed something unordinary. Villain was not performing with her, and he had a look in his eyes, a- a gleam which Hero had never seen before. This can’t be good. Not only did Villain have such a mischievous glimmer, but he had not moved from his initial position.
With eyes now closed, Villain summoned all the water he could. Opening them once again, he sent his arms forward- a fast motion which released wave upon wave, crashing into the audience.
He laughed darkly as he sprinkled a whirlpool here, a current there, and a water tornado- which served as an escape, a path of destruction that cleared the way of all the chairs, as well as the audience members themselves.
Just as Hero had faltered before, Villain did in that very moment- a familiar pain blossoming in his body. He gritted his teeth.
Supervillain had begun fighting him more quickly than expected. Clearly, the waves that had engulfed him, therefore knocking him over, and the shards of ice Villain had aimed towards his chest, hadn’t been enough.
But he couldn’t stop clearing the path- the only path that could ensure him life- ensure him freedom. His motivation to succeed tonight enraptured his every move…because if he failed…well…he didn’t want to think of the consequences.
The adrenaline which Villain possessed now helped him more easily bear the once excruciating pain. Now, it was only a dull throb, a throb that allowed Villain to continue concentrating on clearing the path of obstacles, for anyone in his way would regret it.
Villain’s body ached, having never spent so much energy on his powers. Especially not at the same time as Supervillain using his own powers so strongly against him.
Struggling to hold on as he started to feel the pain sharper than ever, Villain focused on the path- his salvation- ahead. Supervillain was no match for the determination manifesting in Villain’s veins.
***
Hero was lost in the literal sea of madness. A part of her was grateful to only feel the sprinkle of swirling water around her, yet another quaked at the sight before her- of the people she so graciously served being tossed like ragdolls.
What was worse: the sight of Villain captured in his cage of moonlight, or seeing the audience so helplessly being…being drowned? For once, she decided on the latter. Hero never imagined a day would pass that Supervillain’s power wasn’t the most terrifying thing in existence. Seeing what Villain did now, though? It was horrible- excruciating.
On another hand…Hero understood. Villain endured so much pain, so often, who else wouldn’t lose their mind- wouldn’t wreak havoc if it meant being free of the torture? Clearly, this life wasn’t meant for him. And he was stubborn enough that fighting for such freedom was all he’d ever know.
Seeing as Supervillain was just as strong-willed, he’d never stop torturing- never stop trying to break Villain. Making an escape was Villain’s greatest hope.
Who was Hero to try and stop him?
******
*insert cliffhanger* Mwahaha 😈
Part two here
#A Cage of Moonlight and Magic#collaboration#collab#heroes and villains#hero and villain story#circus#circus whump#magic#magic whump#good hero#good villain#ish#evil supervillain#villain whumpee#hero whumpee#fantasy#struggle for freedom#water powers#ice powers#fire powers#star powers#lots of powers#superpowers#there that sums it up#whump#whumper#whumpee#You guys- T has learned well#We are the perfect evil duo :))#Go give her a follow ;)
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Here‘s my drabble for the HPRomione Discord fanfic tag. Thanks to @zurisenchantedquill for tagging me. My prompt was fireworks - literal and figurative.
My head - let’s write spicy figurative fireworks! You’ve wanted to stretch those muscles!
My heart - uh…. we’re going to write a fight.
I am tagging @bluegreenandpurple next. Your prompt is revenge
Title: Tense
Rating: PG-13 (Ron and I can’t go too long without using the f word)
Pairing: Romione
Disclaimer: Not my characters
Quick head canon note: I believe that Ron isn’t completely aware of his actions when under veela influence.
Takes place the summer before HBP.
Ron stepped out of the house and rubbed his face wearily.
Everything was so fucking tense right now.
He had certainly gotten used to a high level of tension in the year since Voldemort had returned and it was obviously warranted. But today, there was a completely new kind of tension and it made no sense.
The week had started off well. Hermione had arrived four days ago. Ginny, of course, had to insert herself in their business constantly but the first night, Hermione had suggested the two of them take a walk around the edge of the property after dinner and they’d repeated it every night. With the shop opening, Fred and George had been scarcely around to subject him to their normal torment. And Bill had written to say that he’d be arriving today to stay for the summer and it was always great to have his older brother around.
But that was where the trouble started.
Bill hadn’t arrived alone. He hadn’t mentioned that his girlfriend, Fleur Delacour, would be in tow. Ron had no issue with Fleur except it was considered polite to give a fucking warning when you bring a veela around so a bloke can have a chance to try to not make a fool of himself.
And then, with Fleur standing next to him with a beatific smile on her face, Bill announced she wasn’t his girlfriend - she was his fiancée.
Ron had always assumed his mum would go mad with excitement at the first of her children to marry and the fact that it was her golden boy should have made it even more unbearable. Instead Bill’s announcement was met with confusion by he and the twins (while he caught all the grief from his sister, Fred and George certainly weren’t immune to veela charms), a nervous smile from his dad, and stony silence from his mum and Ginny.
Fleur’s smile dropped and Bill frowned.
“Well,” said Dad, standing up and breaking the silence. “Certainly something to celebrate!” He pulled his eldest son into a hug before repeating the action with Fleur.
Ron felt his mind clear a bit and shook his head. “Uh, yeah. Congratulations,” he said, stepping forward to pat his brother on the back and grin. The twins seemed to come back to themselves as well and enthusiastically shook Bill’s hand.
“And, uh,” Ron turned to Fleur. “Welcome to the family.” He tried to make his voice warm and mature but he was sure he sounded like a total git. To make matters worse, he awkwardly raised his arms but didn’t actually move to touch her. Ron was sure he looked like an idiot.
Fleur, however, seemed to appreciate his gesture. She gave him a small smile and quietly said “Thank you.” She then pushed herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek.
His brain was starting to feel a touch fuzzy until he suddenly heard a tongue cluck behind him. He whirled around - Mum and Ginny were now both glaring at Dad for some reason. Hermione however, was looking at Fleur with absolute disdain. He shot a quizzical look at her but she pointedly ignored him.
Dad was staring back at Mum and Ginny. “This is something to celebrate,” he repeated in an unusually stern tone.
“Of course,” replied Mum tersely. Ron watched his mum inhale sharply and force a smile onto her face. “Oh, my boy is getting married!” She pushed Fred aside to embrace Bill and her words almost sounded genuine.
At his father’s insistence, they had a full feast for dinner. Dad had even popped out and returned with three bottles of champagne. He had poured Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each a generous glass as Mum looked on disapprovingly. But despite Dad’s best efforts, the meal had been uncomfortable. Delicious but uncomfortable. And Hermione had skipped pudding and excused herself from the table, breaking what he already considered their after dinner tradition. Ron hadn’t seen her since. He’d gone to the sitting room to play a couple of games of chess with Bill but as darkness was setting, he felt the need to escape the uneasiness that existed in the room and a pull to see Hermione.
As he glanced around the garden, he spotted her on the far end, sitting on the bench with a book.
“Hey,” he greeted, approaching her slowly.
Hermione glanced up from the tome and grunted in acknowledgement. Ron bristled at her reaction.
“You stood me up,” he said, struggling to keep his tone light. He was still unsure as to what had brought on this mood.
“You seemed busy,” she responded curtly.
He shrugged. “I wanted cake. And Bill was asking about the Quidditch Cup match.”
Hermione snorted and closed her book before setting it next to her. “Oh, it was Bill you were sharing your heroics with.”
“Yes,” he said, confused. “They weren’t exactly heroics either.”
“Right. And Bill is the one you found so interesting. Not his fiancée, whose lap you practically crawled into.”
Ron ignored that comment. He thought he was doing quite an admirable job of treating Fleur normally. “Do you have a problem with Fleur?” he asked.
“Do I have a problem with Fleur,” she repeated, a bit shrilly.
“Er, yeah? It just seems like you do.”
“She’s being awful! Snide comments about absolutely everything.”
“She’s to be my sister in law! And Mum and Ginny are being awful to her! I just think we all should make an effort.”
“Yes, that’s you. The welcoming committee,” she rolled her eyes.
“Again, she’s going to be part of the family,” he insisted.
“It doesn’t bother you that it’s happening so quickly? You’re always so suspicious of new people. They just met.”
“It’s been a year. And I reckon I trust Bill,” he said, shrugging.
“I know he’s your brother and you think a lot of him but he’s just a person like the rest of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The whole lot of you. Falling all over yourselves because a beautiful woman enters the room or looks at you or kisses your cheek,” Hermione sneered.
“Hang on,” Ron stopped, his blood suddenly running cold. “Are you jealous of Fleur?”
“What?” Hermione squeaked, looking a bit panicked.
“Are you - do you have a thing for my brother?”
“What?!” Hermione shrieked.
“Well, you seem to have a thing for people that are way too old for you. Lockhart, Krum, and now…”
“Are you being serious?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. You must be jealous of Fleur over Bill.”
Hermione let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not jealous of Fleur because of Bill.”
Ron froze. He replayed her answer in his mind. He wasn’t at his sharpest due to the after effects of veela powers and champagne but he was sure that she hadn’t denied that she was jealous; it just didn’t have to do with Bill. Did that mean… what did that mean?
“What does that mean?” he asked her. Their eyes locked and Hermione bit her lip nervously.
Wheeeeee - BANG!
Ron turned sharply and looked up to the sky to see three pink rockets bursting overhead.
“There’s your proper celebration, Dad!” shouted Fred gleefully. George whooped and pumped a fist in the air.
While Ron and Hermione had argued, Fred and George apparently tapped into their firework stock, which was bringing the rest of the family outside.
“Boys! Be careful! Ginny!” Mum yelled, as his sister squeezed by and ran toward the twins. She tutted and followed Ginny, his dad close behind. An orange Catherine wheel appeared above their moving forms.
Bill and Fleur, holding hands paused at the door and looked up.
“They are lovely although the display in Marseille for Bastille Day simply cannot be outdone,” Fleur declared. “The city is not without its problems but -” Bill laughed and pulled her along, trailing after his parents.
Ron glanced back at Hermione, who was scowling. “Is that true?”
“Is what true?”
“You’ve been to Marseille with your parents, right? Cause your mum’s a fan of that one poet from there. Are the fireworks there better?”
She looked at him and for a moment, she seemed speechless, which made no sense. It wasn’t a particularly challenging question. “Uh, yes, I have been there but not for Bastille Day. I wouldn’t have seen any wizarding fireworks anyway of course but I have a hard time believing that anyone can outdo your brothers.”
BOOM! Sparks in the form of a large green fire breathing dragon lit up the sky.
“Fred and George are quite unbeatable when it comes to explosions,” Ron agreed.
Hermione smiled at him and moved her book back onto her lap, gesturing for him to sit. Ron didn’t quite understand what he did to change her attitude but he thought it best not to push. He plopped down next to her and his bare calf brushed up against hers, sending a shiver up his spine. She didn’t move her leg away.
They sat side by side, Hermione watching the fireworks, Ron watching Hermione.
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