#bet you though my brother was younger than me huh? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fantastical-euphoria · 11 months ago

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early one school morning, i met my friend bailey by my locker.

i actually knew him through his older sister, blaire, who was my brother’s age. she ran a daycare inside her own home that my little sister went to. and i would always see bailey there whenever i picked her up after school. bailey was a year younger than me, and blaire was a year older than owen, but it didn’t matter.

“sorry i probably smell like a daycare center,” he joked as we embraced.

“all good,” i laughed. “you excited? or more nervous?”

“i guess both?” he shrugged. “i have a good track record of learning layouts of buildings pretty quickly, so considering how small this school is, this is gonna be a cinch.”

“i can help you, you know. that’s what i’m here for.”

bailey chuckled slightly. “i’m fine, riley, i promise.”

“whatever you say,” i rolled my eyes and smirked at him.

then i pulled out my phone and showed him my lockscreen of me and my friends at the pool.

“so these are my friends ava and harper. they’re identical twins.”

“twins, huh? so like… were they born prematurely?” bailey inquired.

i nodded. “yeah, a bit, maybe like a couple weeks.”

“do they have any other siblings?”

i shook my head.

“you know, i was born seven weeks premature. she told me.”

“you sound pretty proud of it,” i laughed. “but so was owen. well, he was only two weeks, actually.”

then i looked back to my phone.

“anyway, these are the girls we’re meeting right before class starts,” i told him, pointing to each. “the girl on the left is ava, she’s the pretty one, but also super obnoxious. and the girl on the right is harper…”

“huh, that’s funny you think that,” bailey mused.

“what do you mean?”

“well, you’ve showed them to me before i think.” he pointed to harper. “and i always thought she was the pretty one.”

my eyes widened slightly. “oh,” i chuckled nervously. “even though she’s got glasses and braces on?”

bailey nodded, smiling. “yeah. why should it matter how you look? i bet she’s got a cute voice, cute laugh,” he pointed to the picture again. “she already has a cute smile.”

“she’s also the shyer of the two,” i noted.

“i see,” bailey nodded slowly. “that’s okay, i’m shy too.”

“you are not shy,” i rolled my eyes.

suddenly ava and harper strolled up to us with their book bags in tow.

“and speaking of not shy…” i murmured.

“hey,” ava immediately turned to bailey, pointing a finger at him. “how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“oh, i’m new here,” bailey explained. “you see, i was homeschooled all my life before my mom moved to ireland. so ever since last summer, i’ve been staying at my older sister’s.”

“nice,” harper smiled at him. “it’s nice to meet you.”

“yeah, you too!” he smiled and shook her hand.

ava immediately went to shake his hand as well.

“and nice to meet you too,” bailey smiled at her. “i heard you two were twins.” he pointed at them both.

“yeah,” ava rolled her eyes and folded her arms, “unfortunately.”

“oh come on,” bailey chuckled, “i don’t see it as a bad thing. you both seem nice.”

“ava is not nice,” harper mumbled, sticking a hand on her hip and flashing her sister a glare.

ava responded simply by sticking her tongue out at her.

“yep,” bailey laughed, “you two definitely are sisters.”

“we know,” ava rolled her eyes again. “anyway, what are you like? tell us a bit about yourself.”

“well, my parents are divorced, but they still keep in touch. they’re still friends.”

“love that,” ava interjected.

“my mom moved to ireland, my dad moved near a golf club, he now has a girlfriend named erica. my owns a yacht. and he’s an orthopedic surgeon. oh, and he also plays golf, obviously. both he and the girlfriend, actually.”

“love that,” ava interjected again.

“does your mom have a boyfriend?” harper asked.

“no, she’s done being married,” bailey laughed. “erica, my dad’s new woman, literally went to school with my sister blaire. she was a senior when blaire was a freshman. oh, yeah, and blaire runs a daycare in her house, where i live now. it’s called lossa love daycare. cause that’s our last name, lossa.”

“creative!” ava remarked. “i love that.”

“you love everything,” i shook my head and rolled my eyes at her.

“are you single?” ava asked bailey.

“well, it’s funny you say that, cause there’s this cute little girl at my sister’s daycare who likes to bring me flowers during her outside playtime,” bailey chuckled. “it’s actually her sister’s best friend,” bailey pointed at me with his thumb. “so i’m starting to think that i might be her boyfriend.”

“aww, darcie,” i couldn’t help but grin wide, nodding slightly. “yeah, she’s sweet.”

“that doesn’t count,” ava replied snarkily.

“i’m sorry about her,” harper said to bailey, before mouthing, “she can be a mess.”

“i saw that,” ava rolled her eyes at her sister.”

“all good, no worries,” bailey chuckled. “but in actuality, no, i’m single.”

then he pulled out his phone and showed us a picture of him and his sister.

“so that’s blaire, the one with the sunglasses,” he pointed.

“i thought she had a pixie cut?” i inquired, glancing over his shoulder.

bailey shook his head. “she did, but then she decided to grow it out.”

“wait, is she single?” ava asked.

bailey nodded. “yeah, and proud to be. fun fact, she used to be a lesbian. but it took three toxic relationships and one toxic situationship to make her commit to the single life. but she’s open to maybe having a male friend or two in her life. she’s down for that.”

“does she know her brother?” ava pointed at me. “he’s a teacher here.”

“yes, i know that,” bailey chuckled. “they have met, and she says he’s nice. that’s all i know.”

then he pulled out his schedule and took a glance at it.

“what’s your first class?” i asked him.

“science with patricia goldstein,” he read from the paper.

“oh, i’m in that class!” ava beamed proudly. “but in the afternoon. i’m like her favorite student, not to brag.”

“you have a solid c in that class,” i rolled my eyes.

“c for crazy good, right?” ava nudged me and winked.

“yeah, sure, whatever you wanna believe.” i thought for a moment. “let’s meet back here right before lunch, then we can all walk to the cafeteria together.”

“sounds like a plan,” bailey agreed, glancing at his watch. “well, i guess i better be off.”

“my class is down the hall from goldstein’s,” harper explained to him. “i’ll show you where to go.”

“it was nice to meet you ava!” bailey said before he departed us.

we waved goodbye to each other as i mouthed “text me” to him. he flashed a thumbs up and he and harper went on their way.

•

“you okay?” i asked harper as we continued walking down the long and narrow corridor. we’d been walking for a bit, not really saying anything other than the idle small talk here and there. “you haven’t really said much this whole time.”

“oh,” she had a quiet voice when she talked, much quieter and softer than her sister’s. “yeah, it’s just… i just…” she sighed, stopped in her tracks and worriedly looked around, breathing out a small sigh of relief.

“what? what is it?” i stopped with her.

she sighed a bit heavier this time. “i have this… insecurity…”

“oh?” i furrowed my brow. “i mean, uh, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. i don’t wish to make you feel uncomfortable in any way…”

“no, no, it’s okay, i’ll tell you.” harper rubbed her arm with her other hand, shifting a bit in her feet. “it’s my smile.” she looked at me as if she was expecting me to react in some way, but i kept on listening.

“i know it sounds pathetic, but, like… look at me.” she gestured around her face. “i mean,” she laughed it off, “who would even want to look at my smile? it’s like i’ve got this stupid metal scaffolding all over it.” she shook her head, looking away slightly.

“well,” i smiled a bit, “the way i see it, the metal scaffolding on the facade of a building signifies a work in progress. or better yet, a restoration. so it’s going to become something bigger and better. and that’s what braces do, right? they make your smile appear straighter, and cleaner, and… i guess more perfect?”

“well… yeah… i mean, i guess…” she rubbed her arm again, something that used to be a nervous tendency of mine.

i thought for a moment. “when do you get them off?”

“next year, sometime in the spring.”

“right when the snow melts,” i mused, nodding a bit. “that’ll be fitting i think. the curse of winter will be over right when the curse of the braces will be for you.”

“huh,” harper chuckled, “that’s a neat way to look at it.” she pointed at me, “but you’re absolutely right, they are a curse. they make me look less beautiful.”

“who ever said braces made you look less beautiful?” i asked.

“i… i dunno…” she shrugged, taking her glasses off.

“glasses too,” i pointed. “living a life in shame just because of how you look shouldn’t be how you live, at least, i don’t think. plus, it makes you easy to tell apart from your sister.”

“yeah, true,” harper smiled slightly. “but… everyone says that she’s the pretty one, and i’ve always tried to be like her…”

“seriously?” i laughed. “you’re identical twins! you’re pretty much stuck looking like her.”

“well, i can’t see as clearly as her, that’s why i have the glasses.” harper pointed to them. “we’re already pretty different. she talks louder. maybe i should talk louder, so the teachers can hear…”

“i can hear you just fine,” i calmly said with a smile. “you sound great to me. have you ever considered that ava’s voice is perhaps a bit too loud, and that you talk normally?”

“n-no…” she stammered. “i guess not.”

“i think you talk fine.” i tried to sound as reassuring as i could. “bottom line is, you shouldn’t set yourself up comparing yourself to people you think are better than you. it won’t get you anywhere.”

“y-yeah. you… you’re right. i’m sorry…”

“no, no!” i gently put a hand on her shoulder. “don’t apologize. these are just facts of life that i learned early on. it’s great that i can tell you about them. cause in the long run, you’ll feel so much better about yourself, and you’ll thank me for telling you all this.”

harper thought for a moment, looking off to the side before her eyes flashed back to me. “so you really think my smile looks pretty?” she giggled slightly.

“i think everything about you looks pretty,” i said to her affirmatively, squeezing her shoulder slightly. “especially your smile. it looks beautiful. beautiful enough for me to kiss, maybe.” i winked at her.

her cheeks instantly flashed a bright red, and she covered up part of her face with her hand. “i- i’m sorry,” she whispered, lowering her hand gradually. “i… i don’t know what just… what i did just now…”

“you’re all good,” i chuckled. “sorry, should’ve clarified that some of what i say is very lighthearted. so i wasn’t being serious when i said that.” i smirked. “or was i?”

harper laughed and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me a bit. “you’re great,” she told me as she backed away, blushing slightly as a look of realization came over her face. “sorry,” she chuckled softly, “i’m a bit of a hugger, i couldn’t help myself.”

“oh, so am i, i don’t mind.” naturally, i wanted to return the favor, so i wrapped my arms around her a bit more gently.

“oh, you’re so better than me, i’m jealous!” her smile grew slightly. “and they actually feel quite warm.”

suddenly the bell rang, and realizing what this meant, harper flashed a glance at me sadly as i let go of her.

“aw, don’t go,” she frowned.

“we’ll see each other again,” i reassured her, taking her hand in both of mine before releasing it and opening up my arms for her. “here, one last one for good luck.”

and as i wrapped my arms around her, i felt her head nestle in right where my heart was. and it felt super comfortable.

i looked down at her with a smile that i just couldn’t wipe from my face. i could get used to this. to her. to this feeling.

right before we parted ways, we exchanged phone numbers.

•

during my lunch break that afternoon, i decided to head over to the nurse’s office to complete my site change.

as a diabetic, you had to change the site of your glucose monitor and your insulin pump that was attached to your body.

having those tiny contraptions hooked onto you was a hell of a lot easier than having to manually test your blood sugar and inject insulin via needle.

then again, it was still a needle going into to your body.

“hi nurse kate,” i greeted the nurse with a simple smile and wave.

she smiled and waved back, and i looked around the room to where i could find an empty seat.

sure enough, there was one located next to a young girl who was testing her blood sugar by finger prick. although, i could see her shirt pulled up, and on her waist she had a pump that looked nearly identical to mine.

i sat down next to her, and she immediately turned to me, smiling.

“hi, i’m victoria,” she said, sticking out the hand that didn’t have the prick mark on it.

“hi viktoria,” i said, shaking it. “nice to meet you.”

then her eyes travelled down to my pump, and she gasped slightly.

“we have the same model!” she exclaimed, pointing at it. “how cool!”

i laughed. “yeah, you’re a diabetic too i guess.”

“i really like this model.” she pinched hers with her thumb and forefinger and turned it towards me to show me. “it’s not as painful as some of the other pumps out on the market.”

“yeah,” i nodded, “it’s incredibly painless.”

“plus, they stick to you even better.�� her eyes travelled up to my face. “i feel like i’ve seen you before,” she flashed a lighthearted skeptical glance at me, pointing. “aren’t you a teacher here?”

“yeah, that i am.” i began to change my own sites, glancing over at her once or twice in the process. “so you manually check your sugar?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “i didn’t have the best experience with my cgm, it kept falling off and… i stepped on it once, and the needle went into my foot,” she shivered slightly.

“ouch,” i chuckled. “hopefully you got a tetnis shot.”

she nodded. “i was five when that happened. i got the diabetes a year before.”

“so you were diagnosed when you were four?” i asked.

she nodded, now putting her medical kit away and pulling a lunchbox out from underneath her chair. “i eat lunch here,” she quickly explained, gesturing to her lunchbox. “i have no friends,” she chuckled nervously.

“no friends?” that made me sad for some reason.

“what, i mean, when were you diagnosed?” viktoria quickly asked me, probably to redirect the subject.

“i was eighteen,” i explained.

“that must have felt weird for you.”

i shrugged. “yeah, a little. but i conform quickly.”

we were both silent for a minute.

“what do you teach?” viktoria then asked.

“ap calculus.”

“oh,” she laughed, “i don’t think i’m in your class.”

“yeah, i don’t think so either,” i shook my head, smiling a bit. “i don’t remember seeing you on my roster.”

“what is calculus anyway? does that have anything to do with calculators?”

“well, we use them a lot, for sure. we use graphing calculators, i’m not sure if your math class has those.”

“oh, i’m not in math.” i could see viktoria blush a little bit, perhaps out of embarrassment. “i’m not very good at it.”

“not everyone is,” i told her. “and that’s okay if you aren’t.”

“but…” viktoria thought again, “i’d love to help you out in some way. you seem nice.”

“aw, thank you,” i smiled at her. i had wanted to say right then, “so do you.” but i didn’t.

“are there any opportunities that you, uh, that you offer?”

“well,” i explained, “i do have a slot open next semester for an intern. all you’d really be doing is grading papers.”

an expression of worry instantly flashed in viktoria’s eyes. “so does that mean i have to learn math? and like, become good at it?” i could sense total panic in her voice.

“no, no,” i laughed, “you’d have an answer key to look at.”

“phew, that’s a relief,” she sighed out.

“yeah, and…” now i had to think. “this might be beneficial for you actually, there is an after school program that is offered for any math student that just needs extra help. they’re looking for tutors there as well. i don’t run it, though. so you could either apply to help out, or apply to be helped out. but slots do fill up fast, so i recommend getting on it as soon as you’re able.”

“yeah, i think i’d rather learn how to grade papers than learn math,” she chuckled nervously. “no offense.”

“none taken,” i waved it off. “yeah, i figured the tutoring thing probably wouldn’t apply to you. but you might like being tutored by someone.”

“could you tutor me?” viktoria inquired, laughing it off (she was probably not being serious at all about it).

“so i don’t stay after school to help out, unfortunately. i have so many other things to do that occupy too much of my time.” i looked over to her, sort of shrugging in defeat. “sorry.”

“that’s okay,” she smiled, “i didn’t really mean it.”

“yeah, i know,” i laughed. “you really detest it, huh?”

“uh huh,” she nodded, pursing her lips.

then she whipped out her phone and showed me her lockscreen. “this is what i do like.” she pointed to the picture. “that’s my pet rabbit, dottie. i’ve had her for ten years. she poops everywhere.”

“aw, she’s cute,” i smiled. “my sister has three pet rabbits that she looks after. and she’s really good at taking care of them.”

“you have a sister?” viktoria asked.

“sure do,” i nodded. “actually, i have two. i have a younger sister, riley, and a miniature sister named starla.”

“miniature?” viktoria inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“well, i like to call her that. i think it’s just a me thing, i don’t know. but yeah, she’s four, a real sweetheart.” i turned to her. “what about you? do you have any siblings?”

“nope, only child. how old is riley?” viktoria asked.

“she goes here, she’s seventeen,” i replied.

“so you’re the oldest.”

“mmhm.” i nodded again.

“i think riley’s in my gym class— oh, wait, no, i’m thinking of a different riley, never mind.”

“yeah, riley doesn’t take gym. she’s like you with math— doesn’t like it one bit.”

“gym is okay,” viktoria remarked. “english is good, history all we do is watch videos and take notes, biology is boring… oh, and my elective is this art and music integration class. that’s really boring,” she laughed. “i have to write a ten page paper by the end of the month.” she pouted. “that’s no fun.”

“okay, you wanna know what i despised when i went to school?” i asked, pointing at myself. “writing papers. in any class. it wasn’t like i sucked at writing in any way, but it was so laborious and such a chore for me. i would always zone out after i’d written like a page. i just, didn’t, like it.” i made sure to emphasize each word in that last sentence. “and when i went for my masters in teaching, i had to write a paper that was about sixteen pages long. and trust me. the last thing you want to be doing at the eleventh hour is cramming in a sixteen page paper.”

“oh my gosh!” viktoria laughed out loud, “so, like, you procrastinate too?”

“i used to be really bad,” i chuckled. “like, it’s a miracle i’m actually here teaching people, and not back up at uni retaking five to six adolescent psychology courses.”

viktoria thought for a moment. “i want to major in history, and become one of those tour guides that leads one of those tours around those ancient historical buildings.”

“oh, that sounds super fun,” i smiled. “you like to be a talker, i can tell, so the job would suit you.”

“it would?” there was a glimmer of eagerness in viktoria’s eyes, it was kind of cute to see, actually.

“sure! and you’ve got the enthusiasm to boot. you’d be perfect.”

viktoria giggled slightly. “i could be a tour guide who makes everyone take a test at the end of the tour, and then i could grade the papers.”

“there you go!” i said. “looks like you got your work cut out for you.”

“i do,” she beamed.

suddenly the bell rang, and i had to get back to class.

“well, it was nice meeting you, viktoria.”

“you can call me tori if you’d like,” she said, getting up out of her chair and throwing away her trash into a nearby trashcan.

“okay tori,” i smiled, patting her back slightly when she came back. “it was nice meeting you. good luck with your tour guide business, and your diabetes management. it can be tough to juggle sometimes. but i’m confident you know what to do, maybe even better than me.” i winked at her.

“thanks,” she giggled, blushing slightly.

and as i exited the nurse’s office, i had two takeaways etched in my mind:

1. she had an infectious personality,

and 2. she looked like she was beginning to develop a crush on me.

•

one day, we were going on a small road trip, and naturally, owen was in charge of waking me up.

“ri. ri ri. ri. ri ri.” i felt incessant poking and prodding by a grown-up finger while i was peacefully asleep in bed.

i shuddered and the touch and turned over to my other side, towards where i could hear the voice coming from.

i sleepily blinked my eyes open. “what.” i muttered through my teeth, squinting at him, probably sounding more irritated and agitated than i meant to.

“we’re leaving in ten minutes,” owen tapped his wrist where the face of a watch would be. “you gotta get starla, i still need to finish packing.”

“because you procrastinated and forgot last night?” i asked, sitting up in bed now.

“don’t call me out like that,” he laughed. “but, uh, yes, that’s the reason. now go,” he casually tapped my bum, “mom and dad are waiting.”

so i got out of bed and went across the hall to starla’s bedroom.

the thing with starla was, she was extremely quiet, even for a four year old. she barely spoke a word. mom was working on getting her some in-home speech therapy. but she had her ways of communicating to us.

normally, when i walked in, she would be hiding under the bed, because she would often think that owen was coming in instead of me.

i noticed her teddy bear wedges in between the two plumped up pillows at the head of the bed.

what i would do is i would sit down on her bed, take the teddy, and sort of wiggle it on the floor right beside the bed to get her attention. and then when i could see her two tiny hands take it, i’d still be holding onto the bear and i would pull her right out from under there. and then she would see that i was on the other end. and she would be happy.

i learned that trick from owen, actually, cause that’s what he used to do with me.

right as i was about to look under there, though, i felt a tiny person wrap their arms around one of my legs from behind.

i smiled and spun around.

“there you are!” i bent down and rubbed the top of her head. “you excited for our little trip?”

she nodded, wanting to grab my hand.

so i took it and lifted her up on the bed, sitting down next to her.

“you wanna play on my phone while we’re on the road?” i asked.

she nodded again.

i echoed her smile. i liked seeing her happy like that.

i quickly opened it up, cleared out all my text notifications and put ava’s test notifs on mute. sometimes she used some really choice language.

a photo memory popped up on my phone, and i tapped on it, holding the phone so starla could see.

“who’s that smelly weirdo?” i asked, pointing to the guy on the far end with the swim trunks, chiseled abs and sunglasses. it had been a beach holiday.

starla giggled and pointed to the room across the hall that had the door shut, which was owen’s room.

i moved my finger to the girl next to him.

“who’s that even bigger weirdo?” i asked.

starla giggled again and squeezed my hand, which she was still holding onto.

i smiled and nodded approvingly, rubbing her head again. “that’s right, smart girl!”

suddenly we could hear mom yelling for everyone to start clearing out of the house.

“alright,” i sighed, “time to go.” i stuffed my phone into my pocket and carried starla out, the two of us heading to the car. it was only when mom got the car seat situated and starla loaded into it that i handed her my phone.

luckily i had plenty of games loaded on there that i played myself that she could take advantage of.

when i could see her eyes starting to close, i knew that meant she was getting tired, so i tapped her hand that was holding my phone.

“here, you need to sleep now,” i told her gently.

she let me take the phone back and before i knew it, she was passed out cold.

with the car seat wedged in between us, my eyes travelled over to owen, who seemed particularly engrossed in his own phone.

“who are you texting?” i asked, glancing over his shoulder from afar.

he wouldn’t say, but the name read “viktoria.”

“ooh, who’s viktoria?” i asked teasingly, tapping his forearm with my fist.

“she’s your grade,” owen replied deadpanned, not bothering to look up from his phone.

that caught my attention. was it… was it legal to text someone underage?

“my grade as in, she’s 17?” i asked.

he shook his head. “just turned 18.”

that’s when i realized something else.

“the viktoria you’re texting… it doesn’t happen to be viktoria spunaldi, does it?” i asked.

owen nodded. “it is, why?”

i sucked air in through my teeth. “ava absolutely despises her. as it, she hates her guts.”

“oh?” owen flashed me an inquisitive look.

“yeah, she and ava used to be best friends. like, they were inseparable. and then, back in middle school, they got into this huge fight, one that all the kids talked about for days on end… and they haven’t spoken to each other since.”

owen chuckled. “sounds like a lot of petty teenage girly girl drama to me.”

“oh, it was, trust me. harp and i stayed out of it as much as we could. ava only attempted to drag me into it once.”

“what was it even about?” owen asked.

“i’ve long since forgotten,” i chuckled. “so has ava probably.”

“i’ll ask viktoria about ava when i see her again,” owen said, setting his phone aside.

i then glanced over to my own phone, where i’d been texting bailey about his newfound relationship with harper.

“it’s funny, whenever we go to get chick-fil-a,” he had texted, “i’ll always get extra pickles on my chicken sandwich cause i’m SUCH a pickle person, and she’ll simply pick her pickles off her sandwich and give them to me.”

“harper never told me she hates pickles,” i’d texted.

“oh, she does, trust me,” bailey texted back. “but she knows just how much i love them, haha.”

that’s how a relationship is supposed to work, isn’t it?

i looked back to owen and saw him smiling down at his phone again, thumbs flying like mad over the lower portion of the screen.

i cocked an eyebrow at him.

“owen.” i tapped his shoulder. “what’s going on between you and tori? like, for real?”

owen shrugged it off, scoffing, “you really wanna know?”

i grabbed his phone and yanked it away from him, all bosslike.

“yeah,” i probably sounded more serious than ever before, “i do.”

•

“can i come in?”

the voice sounded soft, quiet, and subdued. still, it was enough to pique my attention.

it was after school, and i’d been sitting at my desk grading paperwork when tori had opened the door, looking a bit shy and nervous to step foot inside my classroom.

i looked up and smiled wide when i saw who it was.

“hey tori,” i waved. “yeah, of course, you can come in.”

“okay, thanks,” she blushed slightly as she shut the door behind her, probably embarassed for asking.

i gestured around at all the empty seats. “you can have a seat anywhere, i don’t mind. or stand.” i shrugged. “up to you.”

“it’s okay,” she walked over and took a seat at a desk that was right in front of mine.

“so what’s up?” i asked, clasping my hands together and setting them down on my desk, leaning forward slightly.

tori smiled and waved, giggling slightly. “hi.”

i smiled back. “hi.”

she began to look around my classroom, at all the work that was hung up from my students. she seemed to take it all in admirably, nodding ever so slightly in the process.

“so… this is your classroom?”

i nodded, beaming proudly. “this is my classroom.”

“it’s a nice classroom,” she remarked. “i really like it.”

“thank you,” i smiled back at her, noticing that she was still looking around at everything. “yeah, i try to keep it tidy. but i guess it’s better to have a disorganized classroom than a disorganized mind.”

“yeah,” she laughed slightly, her eyes now shifting to the framed pictures that i had on my desk. “is that your sister?” she pointed to a young girl in one of them.

my eyes followed her finger and i nodded in confirmation. “yeah, that’s riley. oh, gosh, that was a while ago.” i pointed to my mom at the far end. “doesn’t she look good?” i asked tori. “she was nine months pregnant in that photo. wait, no, it was six. still, she looked good, remarkably.”

“how does it feel to have a sister so young?” tori asked me.

i smiled fondly, looking off to the side for some reason. “i love her to death. she’s really sweet. i just wish she loved me more.”

“what did you do?” tori laughed.

i sighed, shrugging in defeat. “i don’t know. she always runs away from me. i think she’s just scared. i am kinda big, in her eyes. and big obviously means intimidating.”

“oh, so that makes you sad.”

“yeah, kinda.” i sighed again, a bit lighter this time. “but i know she’ll grow up and i’ll get smaller to her.”

then tori’s eyes flashed to a picture right next to it, of me and riley at some amusement park place with mini golf and bumper boats. “oh, i see she’s friends with ava.” her remark didn’t sound resentful at all.

“yeah, ri mentioned something about how you and her had a falling out in middle school?”

“yeah,” tori rolled her eyes, “but it was so stupid. i was over it years ago. but ava’s the type to hold these petty ass grudges, and she still hasn’t made up with me. but yeah, it was over this guy, roman clancy, and she was mad that i was into him at the same time that she was, and she got jealous when he was checking me out more, and she thought that i was dating him since we kind of hung out more, but we honestly weren’t. i wasn’t even really into dating back then. and roman had even said to me that he was into me more and that he’d choose me over ava any day.” she sighed. “and then roman moved away the year after, and ava still hasn’t forgiven me. she was definitely jealous.”

“of course,” i muttered, shaking my head.

“what?” tori asked, only because she couldn’t hear me that well.

“uh, nothing never mind.” i chuckled nervously. “that just sounds super petty to me.”

“oh it was and it is, trust me. ava is just… toxic, on all levels. she’s nice and all, but she’s just toxic.” she glanced over to the picture again. “and she and your sister, riley you said? yeah, so they’re like, friends, i guess.”

“yep,” i nodded, “friends since childhood. her and her twin.”

“oh, harper, yeah, i know her,” tori smiled. “she’s super nice. nothing like ava. we’re cool, we text.”

“she got a boyfriend now?” i asked, only because i wanted her to confirm (riley had already told me).

tori shrugged, “haven’t heard anything about that yet.” she thought for a second. “but i probably will soon. she doesn’t always inform me of stuff, we’re not like super close but…”

then she glanced at one more picture, it was of riley and i when we were really young, and her smile returned. “you and riley seem super close. i love that.” she pointed.

“yeah, well, i love all my family, not just riley.” i gestured to another picture of me and my parents, and then to a picture of me and my two sisters taken just last year (riley was holding starla upside down in it to get her to smile).

i couldn’t help but smile slightly, just thinking about them. “my family make me happy. and they keep me happy. riley’s a really good baker, and joke cracker, and her relationship with our mini sister is so precious.”

“did she always want one?” tori asked.

i nodded. “she begged for one when she were little, and our mom would go ‘what? you don’t like the one you have now?’ and she’d grumble and complain ‘but he’s owen, i want someone that’s not owen.’ she was just being funny about it though, i knew deep down that she loved me.”

“and what about your mini sister, star…ry? star something?”

“starla,” i gentle corrected.

“yeah, starla, sorry. what do you like about her?”

“well, i know that with her, because she’s so young, she’s got room for growth and development. but right now she’s a bit on the quiet side. a small thing i notice is when she takes your hand, she doesn’t let go unless you make her. she’s very touch dependent.” i smiled fondly. “and she’s actually super pretty for a four year old.”

tori glanced back to the picture of all of us again. “you must get jealous that riley and her have such a close bond.”

“well, keep in mind that so do riley and i. and it’s kind of hard, really, to have a sibling-like bond with someone who’s twenty years younger than you. i might as well be her dad,” i chuckled slightly.

“but you aren’t.”

“but i’m not, you’re right.” i nodded affirmatively.

there was a small bit of stillness in the room that came with the lull in our dialogue.

that was when i thought of something to say.

“what makes you happy?” i asked.

“music,” she grinned wide. “and dancing. lots of dancing to lots of music.”

“dancing, eh? you like to dance? are you a professional dancer?”

“oh, no, no no no,” she laughed, immediately frantically waving it off, “i could never be a pro. i just dance for fun, in my room.”

“here,” i pulled my phone out from one of the drawers in my desk and opened up my spotify app, “let’s get some music playing.”

“wait what?” a sense of panic flashed in her eyes as she stared at me in pure disbelief.

“what? you said you liked music,” i laughed slightly.

tori frantically looked around, her expression one of panic. “are you sure?” she asked.

“yeah, no worries here, no one’s around, we’re safe.”

“oh, uh, okay.” i picked up a slight nervous inflection in her voice.

“you’re okay,” i smiled reassuringly at her, “just have fun with it.”

now it was my turn to look around.

“here,” i said, getting out of my chair and going over to her with my phone in my hand, “i can let you pick out the song.”

her eyes widened when i showed her my phone, a smile beginning to grow wide. “you have a lot of playlists,” she breathed out in awe.

“riley created some of them for me. she’s more into indie, i’m more into rock and alternative. but there’s one playlist on here that’s like easy listening.” i scrolled down with my thumb to the playlist. “i play this whenever my parents are around.”

“really?” tori laughed. “so you must really like music a lot then, i guess.”

“yeah, sure,” i chuckled.

“do you dance?” tori asked.

“oh, trust me, you would not believe how much of a dad i look when i dance,” i replied deadpanned.

tori laughed again. “now i kinda wanna see you dance.”

i shook my head, laughing slightly to myself as i pressed play on the easy listen playlist. “prepare to be mortified.”

the music started to play, and we began to dance separately, laughing so hard at each other the entire time.

“we could become tiktok famous, i swear,” tori remarked.

“i don’t even do tiktok.” this earned another laugh from her.

we began to use the whole classroom, moving chairs and desks out of the way so we could perform our little routines.

and slowly but surely, as the playlist pressed on, we began to dance a bit closer together, becoming more and more comfortable with each other’s presence, each other’s personality. we began to hold hands and swing to the music, but not for very long, just enough to satisfy a part of a song.

at one point tori stood up on a desk and leapt from one to another several times during one of her dances.

“careful, don’t hurt yourself!” i laughed, seeing her from afar.

she only slipped once when she was tap-dancing on a chair, and luckily i was there to steady her.

she performed one more skit on a desk, and suddenly she said, “here, catch me!” giggling slightly.

i was about a few feet away from that desk, and when she leapt off, i caught her right under her arms, holding her up there for a bit before slowly and gently lowing her, smiling down at her in admiration when her feet touched the floor.

the music faded out, and we were left standing there.

i expected tori to break out into another dance once the music started back up, but the playlist had reached its end, and tori still had her arms wrapped around my middle, nestling her head into my stomach and grinning wider than ever.

i smiled and rubbed her back. “you look happy,” i laughed.

“i’m happy here,” she mumbled into my shirt, before looking back up to me. “it’s you.” she pointed to my face. “i think it’s you. i’m happy when… i’m with you… and you… you make me happy. sorry, did that make sense?” she let go of me and took a step back, blushing slightly, probably embarrassed that she held onto me for that long.

“aw, well, i’m glad i make you happy. you wanna know something? you make me happy too.”

“really?” she looked at me with eagerness in her eyes and excitement in her voice. “you really do, i mean, think so?”

i nodded, loving how thrilled and enthusiastic she could get over the little things i said. “uh huh. you really do.”

suddenly her expression turned into a frown as she looked down at her feet. “but… but why?”

“you know how to have fun,” i told her, taking her hand again. “you love doing what you do. and there’s no shame in that. and you bring out the happiness in me. normally my sister does that. but now i know that you can too.”

“really? aww…” her grin instantly returned and she hopped up and down in her spot, her hands flapping slightly.

i couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“you wanna know something crazy?” tori took a step closer to me. “so, like, i’ve really wanted a boyfriend for like… the longest time. or at least someone who could see my dancing or even like, dance with me? even? like wow, that’s a crazy thought. but… it just sounded silly and stupid in retrospect, or is it hindsight? well, whichever it is. and like, someone who just… likes me for who i am, and hey, maybe even… loves me? like wow, that would be cool. and i’ve always wanted someone who like, wants to get close to me, and touch me, but like, lovingly, i’m sorry if that sounded super weird.” she laughed. “and i’m sorry that was like, a lot.”

“no, no,” i could not stop laughing at her energy, “you’re all good. i love your energy.”

then i sat down at one of the nearby desks that we pushed back into the corner, tori sitting down on top of the desk, knees tucked up.

i took a deep breath in.

“i’ll let you in on something crazy too.” i chuckled slightly. “i’ve been on this planet for twenty-five years. almost twenty six now. and i’ve never been in a relationship before. like, ever.”

tori’s eyes widened at me. “shut up!” she exclaimed. “really?”

“yeahhh,” i nodded slowly. “like… i dunno.” i shrugged. “i guess i was never really like, gung-ho about getting into one. i just thought maybe… maybe it just wasn’t for me. at least that’s how i felt at the time.” i paused for a minute, thinking. “but now… i think i’m ready for one again. careful consideration taken into account, of course.”

“so you have, like, no experience like, at all?” tori asked. “of being a boyfriend i mean.”

“nada.” i pursed my lips and looked away slightly. not that i was ashamed of that fact in any way. well, okay, maybe a bit.

“oh, well, i’m sure you’ll find that somebody!” tori replied optimistically, turning to face me. “i mean… i really hope you do.” she flashed me a sincere look. “even if you have no experience.”

yeah, thanks for rubbing that in.

but it was funny how blissfully unaware she was of how i was truly feeling in that very moment. painstakingly oblivious.

“oh, trust me,” i chuckled, smirking at her slightly, “i already have.”

(a/n: this was a song that i hc they were listening/dancing to)

youtube

•

“hey, harper, could you come up here for a sec? i need to send you on a mission.”

it wasn’t until my ap calc teacher said that last sentence that i could breathe a sigh of relief. i had thought for sure he’d snuck a peek of what i was doing under my desk.

i was actually holding my phone there, texting my boyfriend bailey, who was in his human studies class.

and no, it wasn’t the same as anatomy. anatomy focuses more on the physical and biological components of humans. human studies was, i guess, more psychological? and tied in real-world stuff too.

anyway, i stuffed my phone in my pocket and went up to his desk.

owen (my teacher’s name) handed me an envelope with the word “tori” scribbled on it in sloppy cursive.

“you think you could send this over to your friend tori?”

i smiled and nodded. “yeah, i know what class she’s in right now.”

he smiled back. “good. off you go.”

so i went out of the room and down the hall, feeling pretty priveliged to be the messenger of whatever this mystery conversation could be.

now, i wouldn’t call tori and i the best of friends. my sister hated her, for one thing. and ava didn’t want me being friends with tori. i thought the reasoning behind that was stupid.

tori and i never really crossed paths outside of school. she was always off busy doing something, but she would never say what. especially as of recent. she was an off-and-on texter with me, and for some reason that annoyed me. you would think that it had something to do with me having a boyfriend now, and she was jealous of that. but no. she seemed quite happy without one. at least i thought she didn’t have one.

so i entered tori’s classroom and found her desk near the door, conveniently enough.

she turned around and smiled at me when she saw me. “hey harper,” she waved. “what are you doing here?”

i went over to the side of her desk and dropped the envelope on top of it. “it’s from owen,” i said.

tori did not waste any time opening it, the way she did it seeming unnaturally rushed and eager.

inside it was just a small slip of paper that read “meet me at the end of emily row, 1122. see you there, and soon. hearts. ~o”

“uh…” i cocked my head to the side, looking at her enthusiastic grin plastered in her face, her whole body trembling and giddy with excitement, even her feet were kicking slightly. “are you two, like… dating… or something?”

i wasn’t intending on being serious at all with that statement, but judging from the bright red color that instantly flashed on her face, it might as well have been.

she looked slightly appalled and offended that i would even suggest such a prospect.

“psht, what? no, that… that’s absurd.” she waved it off, chuckling ever so slightly. “you must be crazy out of your mind.”

i rolled my eyes, backing up a step. “i’m just gonna leave now.”

she waved goodbye to me and i waved back, watching her put the envelope back into the paper and stuff it inside her desk.

“god,” i muttered as i walked back to ap calc, “some people are just so weird nowadays.”

•

it was quite easy for me to find the address owen had written on the scrap paper.

no, it wasn’t his house. i bet that was the first thing you thought of a couple paragraphs back.

it wasn’t my house, either.

it was actually a community pool that was located about a block or so away from his house, at least, that’s what he told me via text.

so i parked at the parking lot, and found his car parked a couple of slots over. it was a grey mercedes, which contrasted my burgundy toyota sedan that had gotten handed down to me from my grandma.

now, i had a pool in the backyard of my house. but it was tiny and infested with algae.

but owen knew how much i liked to swim. so we chose here as a meeting spot.

i got out of my car, the duffel bag that i had my change of clothes in slung over my shoulder, and headed towards the gate.

once there, i searched all around for where owen could be, but he was nowhere to be found.

i sighed and dropped my duffel bag down by my feet. he said he would be waiting for me, where could he possibly be?

just when i was about to take a step back towards my car, a pair of hands covered my eyes.

“where do you think you’re going?” i could feel his voice right in my ear.

i couldn’t help but giggle, as i was quite ticklish.

then i spun around and squeezed him right.

“you made it!” i cheerily exclaimed.

“of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” i felt owen’s hand rub my head.

obviously, with him being older came the fact that he was also significantly taller.

so it was easy for him to treat me like a younger sibling, at least it felt that way to me.

but the way he ran his fingers through my hair suggested anything but a sibling-like relationship.

“c’mon,” he opened the gate, taking my hand, “we can strip off our clothes once we get settled.”

when we stepped inside, i instantly noticed how few people there were. and thank god nobody we knew or even recognized from school.

owen had on a casual t-shirt and shorts that i never in my wildest dreams thought i’d ever see him wear. i was used to seeing him in what he wore at school, more dressy, professional-looking attire.

he was the first to strip off his shirt, and god. DAMN. was he chiseled. i never expected him to be the type to have a six-pack. holy smokes. holy cow. all i wanted to do was feel it.

his skin wasn’t the tannest, but that didn’t really matter to me. god, what did a six-pack even feel like? now i desperately wanted to know.

“what are you waiting for?” owen chuckled, motioning for me to lift my shirt up and off my person.

so that’s what i did.

what that revealed was a small tattoo (my only one) that i kept in a very discreet place, underneath my left breast.

owen noticed it right away, of course.

he cocked an eyebrow and pointed to it.

“who’s emily?” he asked in kind of a soft voice.

the tattoo was simply the name “emily” written in cursive, with a few tiny roses around the perimeter.

“oh, um…” i blushed slightly. “that was, um… well, emily was…” shoot. i wanted to tell him, but something about it just made me the slightest bit uncomfortable.

whatever. he deserved to know. if he was gonna get to know the rest of me anyhow.

“i had a sister named emily,” i lamented. “she… died… from heart failure.” i swallowed hard. “she wasn’t even two. i never got to know what she was like, or would be like…” i sighed. “that’s why i’m an only child now.”

owen had a glassy look in his eyes and a hand over his mouth as he looked me over with the deepest sincerity, and almost apologetically, as if instantly regretted asking.

“i’m sorry i told you,” i quickly apologized.

“no, no, i’m sorry that happened to you. that… that must have been hard on you all.”

i nodded. “yeah, it… it was.”

suddenly i could feel my breath catch in my throat, in the form of a lump that led to tears collecting in my eyes from the discomfort. and then the discomfort quickly turned to pain. pain because i remembered it all so well. how my mother became depressed, battled with it for months before leaving me and my dad for a whole year. but then she returned only because she felt bad. but she had met another guy who she’d been texting on the regular. it was the year after my sister’s death that was the real rollercoaster. because my dad caught onto the other guy, and i guess it was his turn to leave me and my mom. but this time, for good.

drama did not sit well with me. any form, any amount, no matter how unnecessary or petty it was or became.

i just didn’t want it to consume my life, or my mental health.

but every time it seemed, all i would do was break down and cry. over and over again. because i couldn’t help it. i was human. i was vulnerable. i never had the easiest life in the world. but i never wanted to view myself as a dissapointment. although some days were harder than others.

before i could cover my eyes with my palms, i saw owen take a knee in front of me. looking up at me with genuine concern. “you okay sunshine?” he asked gently, taking both my hands tenderly in his own.

i shook my head. “no,” i squeaked out, “i’m not.” and i felt totally okay saying that, at least in front of him.

owen let go of my hands and brought his hands up to my eyes. making the motion with both of them like he was turning door handles, rotating them in towards each other. and he looked concentrated as he did,

“what… what are you doing.” now i was more confused than anything.

“turning off the waterworks.” he smiled slightly, dropping his hands into his lap clasped together. “it’s how i got riley to stop crying when she would break down.” he frowned. “it only worked some of the time.”

“oh, um…” i sniffled, wiping both my eyes with my own fists. “i… i’m sorry…” i swallowed hard, knowing full well that my face was bright red and puffy and disgusting, the way it always looked when i cried.

owen quickly glanced to the pool before looking back into my eyes, taking my hand again.

“here,” he tugged it slightly towards the pool, “why don’t we go swimming for a bit? that’ll take your mind off of it, won’t it?”

i nodded, smiling slightly. “y-yeah… it will… i think…”

“plus you’ll have me,” he squeezed my hand before moving a bit closer. “me… and you…” he pointed to each of us respectively, smirking a bit. “just us.”

i looked around, noticing that he was right. now, we were the only ones there.

so i allowed him to go first into the pool, still holding onto my hand and acting all gentleman-like helping me step foot into the shallow end.

he kept an arm around me as we headed towards the deep end.

i found myself diving right in, feeling the splash of him diving in after me, both of our bodies submerged under the water. even when we were far apart, it felt super intimate. like nothing i’d ever experienced before.

suddenly, i felt two arms encircle my midsection, with two hands settling right where my belly button was, pulling me into him.

and i could feel his abs press against my back. i turned around so my hands ran along each muscle of his six-pack.

two hands then grabbed my wrists, pulling them off.

but i couldn’t help myself. i wanted to feel all around him, everywhere, everywhere that was clothed, everywhere that wasn’t.

and maybe owen was thinking the same thing.

because now i could feel his hands run along my own body, down my sides, resting at the hips.

suddenly i couldn’t breathe underwater any more, i had to come up for air.

and as i blinked my eyes open and treaded water, owen came up right after me, his hands still firmly planted on my hips, our bodies barely touching.

“you alright?” he asked me, his left hand now running back up along my side and towards my face. i felt it caress my cheek as he used his other hand to pull me a bit closer to him.

i smiled and nodded. “this feels nice,” i whispered.

“oh yeah?” he brought my face closer to his. “you want it to feel even nicer?”

i cocked my head to the side.

“do you?” his voice and expression softened a touch, like he genuinely meant it.

i smiled wide and nodded. “of course.”

he then sunk back down to the bottom of the pool, pulling me down with him.

my eyes were completely shut as i felt his arms work their way around my body before one of them settled around my lower torso and the other around the back of my head, simply holding me in place against him.

i felt him slowly rubbing my back, almost tickling it, squeezing me a bit tighter.

then i felt a new touch that wasn’t by a hand, or an arm, but instead, by a pair of lips, right into my neck. then those lips worked their way up to my face, kissing me on the cheeks, the forehead, the top of my head, but when they reached my lips, i unconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning straight into him.

i felt the whole weight of my body float up towards the surface, me not even having to gasp for air.

i felt on cloud nine, being loved this simply, purely and intimately.

and when i opened my eyes and saw him staring back at me so lovingly, his arms still around me, i couldn’t help but smile wide.

“that… felt… amazing…” i breathed out.

owen chuckled and went right in to kiss me again. “i just wanted you to feel how a kiss feels to me. super magical, right?”

i nodded enthusiasticly, grinning widely.

he kissed me one more time. “every time i do that, it feel like we’re both submerged under the water, breathing into each other kinda like we did, and just… floating around each other. touching each other in all the right places.”

“it felt super intimate,” i remarked.

“yeah, it did for me too.” he caressed my cheek once again, dropping his voice down to almost a whisper. “you wanna know something crazy?”

i placed my hand over top of his. “what?” i asked with genuine curiosity in my voice and my eyes.

he shook his head and smiled. “you’re a pretty damn good kisser.”

i giggled slightly, and perhaps nervously as well. “um… thanks… i guess?”

“c’mon,” he laughed, “it’s a compliment, take it!”

now it was my turn to grab his cheeks and kiss him right back. “well guESS whAT?! yOU’re a pretty DAMN good kisser as well!!!”

“oh, stop,” he chuckled nervously, “i’ve never kissed a girl before, how should i be any good?”

“because i just know you are. i can feel it.” i kissed him again. “it feels amazing. it makes me feel happy. that’s what kissing someone you love is supposed to make them feel, right?”

he smiled. “yeah, i guess that’s true.”

he then took my hand in mine tenderly and gently. “i don’t ever want any moment with you to end. ever. not even if we have to fall asleep, and you have have to wake up in the morning to get to school, and i have to wake up in the morning to get to my job. that… that’s how i feel. every time i’m with you.”

my heart skipped a beat at the way he said it. so softly, so sincerely.

“i wanna kiss you again, fuckit,” i muttered, giggling.

he laughed with me before he dragged me back down into the water, repeating the intimate makeout session all over again.

maybe even a third time.

maybe even a fourth.

i lost count by the time the sun began to set.

•

“you KISSED her?!?!?!” riley spurted out at me.

“she was into it!!” i spat back.

riley’s jaw hung slightly agape and she simply shook her head, putting a hand on her chest, muttering quietly, “i can’t believe you.”

“look, it, i…” i sighed. “whatever. it doesn’t matter. just… promise me you won’t tell ava, alright?” i held out my hand, as usually we shook on promises.

riley rolled her eyes and hesitantly stuck her hand out to shake mine. “this doesn’t mean i approve of your actions.”

“i don’t need you to approve of them.”

“they’re morally and ethically wrong!”

“i’m well aware,” i sighed.

and for the rest of the car ride, riley and i didn’t say another word to each other, sitting on either side of starla’s car seat in awkward, uncomfortable silence.

i didn’t know what the worst part was, that starla was still fast asleep and not helping the silence any, or the fact that i didn’t even feel a smidge bad that riley was upset at me, or that i was doing something that would definitely get me in major trouble.

@elliotts-personal-property

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intermagical · 2 months ago

Text

Hot Property

“Pythia, were you ever baptized?”

She looked at me critically, then shrugged and answered the question at face value.

“Sure, when I was younger. Mom went through a real religious phase.”

“She did? I-” I paused, trying to remember everything I could about Jaah and Pythia’s mother. “I don’t know much, other than the fact she’s a nurse. Your brother doesn’t really say anything about her.”

“Yeah, they don’t talk much these days. That religious phase had a lot to do with that, actually.”

“How did it feel?”

“To be baptized? Oh, I dunno. I was just a kid, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I just did what I was told.” She looked off, contemplatively, and then said, “The cheering did feel real good, though.”

I told her about the church service, and the baptisms, and especially about the girl in the wet dress. Why were all these women choosing to join such a controlling, oppressive organization?

Pythia nodded sagely. “I bet she was real pretty, too, huh?” “She was!” I exclaimed, glad that Pythia seemed to have some insight that I lacked. “She was stunning. Could have been a model. A lot of the girls there were. Unusually good-looking, I mean.”

“I see it down south all the time,” she said, shaking her head, “Hot property.”

“What do you mean?”

“The religious, conservative trap these pretty women like to fall into. All this ‘saved’ stuff, it puts them above everybody. Morally, you know. Spiritually, or so they think. They buy into the idea that some people are just inherently superior to other people. And all the attention they get for their looks will back that up.”

“Part of that whole white supremacy nonsense, right?” I asked.

She shrugged, looking grim. “Sure there’s some of that, but I’ve seen plenty of black folks get caught up in the same kind of thought trap. You start thinking that certain people are inherently superior to other people, and there’s a short leap from there to believing that the inferior people deserve to be exploited.”

A wizened old fae knocked his flagon of beer on the counter, getting Pythia’s attention.

“Now, I don’t come here for all this politicking, young lady,” he said testily.

“Then don’t come here, Melvin. It’s my bar tonight, don’t test me. Anyway-” She turned to me and poured me a tall seltzer water as she continued. I didn’t want to interrupt her flow to ask her to put a splash of something harder in it. “Now, in their ideology, women are inferior. We’re property.” I glowered, and also quickly checked left and right to be sure that Zinnia and Azalea were not in earshot.

“But,” Pythia held up a finger, “They’re hot property. Valuable property. The game is rigged, sure, but they’re guaranteed to win, so why not play!”

A fae I hadn’t noticed at the end of the bar reached out a long-nailed finger and a scene of barbie doll blondes in high-heeled baseball uniforms hit a home run in the direction of the liquor bottles. Apparently he was enjoying the discussion enough to illustrate it.

“And of course, winning means getting a powerful, superior man to choose her to be his wife and whisk her off to a superior life, because she is what he’s been told he’s supposed to want.”

“Supposed to want?” I repeated, making it a question.

“You know,” she said, opening her eyes wide and pulling a face, “Thin, blonde. They’re not supposed to want me,” she gestured down at her lythe, dark, dancer’s body, “and they’re not supposed to want you,” this time she indicated my round, curvy frame, and winked, “but they do though.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “it’s not about what he actually wants, or what she actually wants, it’s about possessing her, which will make other men impressed. And she’s been trained to submit to obediently catering to his sexual and domestic needs, for the rest of her lonely, limited life, or, God forbid-” Pythia drew a dramatic sign of the cross on her chest before continuing, and the blonde barbies traded their baseball bats for oven mitts and baby bottles.

“She gets sick or disabled, or otherwise unhappy and therefore unpleasant enough for him to stray into the arms of the beautiful new young secretary or lonely neighbor, and she won't think twice about stealing our girl’s husband, because that’s her ticket to that same superior life.”

“Why don’t they warn the young ones?” I asked, “It seems like women could break women out of this cycle, couldn’t they?”

“Realize that they’ve been flattered into spending their entire life in service to a man who only ever saw them as a commodity? That being hot property wasn’t protection from being used up and discarded? Of course not. They’re in too deep. That would mean admitting to themselves that they’d been had.”

The blonde barbies had morphed into middle aged women with sharp a-lines and botox, throwing shovel-fulls of dirt over pants-suit clad shoulders, as they dug themselves deeper underground.

“So that’s why they do it, huh? They buy into a rigged game without realizing it’s rigged against them, too?”

Pythia nodded. “Or it’s the only game in town. For a lot of women, there aren't a whole lot of choices other than to play.”

*** Excerpt from Festival Season, Book 2 of the New World Fae trilogy. Book 1, Intermagical by TS Davis, is out now

#this is something im editing right now #its book two of a finished trilogy #intermagical #feminism #religious trauma #tradwife

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primusfortuna · 6 months ago

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Mel ✦ Beginning of a Bond (04)

[01] [02] [03] [XX] [05] [06] [07]

“More Perfect Than Perfect”

[Mel's POV]

――The boy I once gave my blessings to was the son of an aristocrat's mistress.

Boy's Mother: You must become a flawless and perfect heir. This will prevent you from being condemned as an illegitimate son.

His mother kept him under constant supervision, raising him with a strict and disciplined hand. One day, for example...

Boy's Mother: Your private tutor informed me that you've been falling asleep during lectures, yes?

Boy's Mother: Your father would be upset if he found out. Do not let this happen again. Is that understood?

All the servants of their estate were on his mother's side. If there was anything he did inadequately, she would be notified immediately.

Maid: Madam, the young master――

Butler: I have a report about the young master.

Gardener: Keep this between us, but when I was in the garden earlier...

Be perfect. Be perfect. Be perfect...

Like a curse, those words controlled everything. Even so, he still tried to live his life as best as he could. Then one day...

A sudden tragedy changed the course of the boy's life.

Boy's Mother: ...Impossible! This is just terrible...! We've always said that my child will be the next successor!

――The father, who hadn't had any children since his marriage, now had a son born to his legal wife.

As the direct descendant, the younger brother would succeed the family. Their father determined that the older brother must now support his sibling.

Mad with rage, the mother directed her fury towards her own son.

Boy's Mother: I've raised you to be perfect... but in the end... you're just the lousy brother who failed!

Boy's Mother: I have no need for a... a son who can't be the successor―a son who's not perfect!!

Even though he got the best grades at school...

Even though he was admired by many...

He was not perfect, because he had one flaw: the inability to be the heir.

Boy: So that's why Mother abandoned me. If you're not perfect... you're worthless.

I couldn't do anything for that boy as he fell apart like that. So I'm... just as worthless.

And yet―

And yet, why does that man called Volks...

Why does he pour all that love into garbage gems? Why does he praise his flawed guild members so much?

Why does he look at someone worthless like me... as if he has high hopes for me?

I don't get it... I don't get it at all.

[Emma's POV]

Some time had passed since Mel shut himself in the key, and the outfit was safely delivered. But then―

(Mel appears)

Mel: ......

Emma: Ah... Mel! It's been a while. I was just about to make some tea. Want to join me?

Emma: I'll be sure to steep it the right way so that you're happy with it. I also have some sweets that Canaan-san shared with me.

Mel: ..........Steep it the right way, you said?

Mel: Your steeping methods and choice of teacup are so mediocre. It doesn't do justice to the tea at all.

Mel: I bet the sweets will just overpower the tea, so I'll pass. ...Later.

Emma: (He went back inside the key...)

Emma: (His criticism didn't seem that passionate either. I hope Mel's okay.)

Volks: I see Mel is glum as usual.

Emma: Volks-san...!

Volks: I just happened to be passing by and saw you two.

Emma: ! Oh, by the way... Is that gem in your hands the one Mel picked out before?

Volks: It is. I see you remembered.

Volks: Humor me, Mel. Out of these uncut gems, which one do you consider the most valuable? Mel: …You’re so pushy. Fine, whatever, I guess that one.

Volks: To tell you the truth, I was secretly elated the moment Mel chose this gem.

Emma: Huh?

Volks: It occurred to me that perhaps he has a great talent smoldering within him.

Emma: What do you mean?

Emma: To me, it looked like he just picked it by chance, without anything particular in mind...

Volks: ......

Volks: Emma, I have a favor I'd like to ask of you. Could you arrange a place for me to speak with Mel?

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[TL Notes]

"More Perfect Than Perfect" The title of this chapter (��璧の上にも完璧に, lit. "Perfect on top of perfect") is likely skewed from the Japanese proverb, "Three years on top of a stone" (石の上にも三年), which means that sitting on a cold stone for three years will make it warm. In other words, that patience and perseverance will lead to success. This connection is reinforced by the fact that Volks views Mel as an 石 (stone/gem) to be polished.

#mel #fairy story #beginning of a bond

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fabulyeux · 2 years ago

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Angle Eyes (Interview)

It was a strange occurrence for Louis to see himself at an interview. He usually wasn’t the subject of attention, but he supposed it was fair to be the one observed for once. Fódlan promised to be a breathtaking view, as it had people from various worlds coming together like a wholly new tableau vivant. Surely, this new thread of fate must be followed to its end and this interview was only a part of its scavenger hunt.

The person who interviewed him was adorned in yellow, as was the custom in the Golden Deer house. His eyes were piercing and it was clear this fellow was a professional outsider like Louis. Still, his face read like a mask, with a smile that didn’t reach the eyes. These eyes betrayed a higher goal, leaving the fellow with a more intense impression than the lack-a-daisical attitude seemed to suggest. A feeling of uneasiness came over Louis, though he was thankful for the opportunity to meet a new ally.

“So, Louis, what is your deal? Y’know, what has led you to where you are today?”

“Ah, well, I believe my upbringing would be a part of that.” Louis said, hoping that small talk would be enough. The eyes at the other end of the table blinked, hungry for more. “Ahem..I have three younger brothers, of which I had a big hand in raising.” Louis said, holding the reason why he was the main caregiver to his brothers close to his chest. “I suppose that gave me a good perspective on how to take care of people and their needs, though my single-minded focus also fostered a curiosity for the grander world, once it opened itself up to me.”

“How so?” the eyes seemed to widen at the idea of a grander world.

“Lythos is a continent of great beauty, but to me its true beauty lies in its people. Each conversation, if I may, is like a landscape of its own. Different backgrounds juxtapose to create something layered, like a modern painting playing with shadows and light. In that sense, Lythos is a gallery, with new compositions racing past. One simply must sit still and see this phenomenon unfold.”

“Like in a theater?”

His voice sounded disappointed, as though he expected something more sophisticated rather than sheer entertainment.

“Quite so! Any social encounter is akin to a dance. Two people sharing parts of themselves with each other. They come closer when they share commonalities, whereas they might pull away at touchy subjects or when a cultural clash occurs.” Louis was almost giddy at the chance to see the reaction of his conversation partner, being part of this process himself now. The smile across him seemed to edge ever closer to the eyes, though they didn’t quite collide yet.

Louis took a step back to his rightful place as spectator. “Apologies, people-watching is a hobby of mine. Still, I’ve found myself a keen observer of the human spirit.” Louis said, seeing if a more practical application of his skills would interest him more.

“Well we’re a pretty interesting bunch here at the Golden Deer, so we’ll be a sight to behold. Lots of personality. A keen observer huh? What do you make of me?”

Louis chuckled and decided to keep his interview diplomatic, intentionally making his own speech more formal to create distance between the open persona of the interviewer and himself. “I suppose we shall see that later. I, for one, am looking forward to it. From my current understanding, I believe you are a fellow observer as well.”

“Sounds like a fair assessment to me. Got any more secret talents locked away? I’d like to know the strengths of my new allies, and I must admit I’m pretty curious about the weaknesses too.”

Interesting how he would ask about weaknesses. If Louis were a betting man, he would guess that the comment about the fellow observer struck a wrong chord. Louis, however, is not a betting man and takes no pleasure in seeing discomfort, so he answered the question.

“As for weaknesses, I found my magical resistance lacking back when I was a knight.” Louis grimaced.

“Not a knight anymore then?”

“Indeed, these days I am a humble servant to the Firenese royal family. At my entrance examination for knighthood I treated everyone to tea, just like I treated my brothers to tea. Apparently, the tea was so good I was immediately highly considered for the job, even though I am but a commoner of birth.”

“A commoner, you say? Reminds me of the house leader of the Black Eagles. She believes commoners should gain a higher standing in Fódlan.”

“I cannot express how joyful that comparison makes me.” Louis beamed with pride. “I do not know the house leader yet, but I am glad that you have made that connection between us. It is what binds us as humans, weaving the people we know together in a tapestry of sorts. As a matter of fact, you remind me of one of Firene’s most trusted allies in return.”

“Fantastic, I’d be happy to meet him. Even so, I am sure your prowess on the battlefield is as admirable as your tea.”

“True, I am no tactician, mind you, but observational skills go beyond the aesthetic pleasure it brings. Reading a situation, seeing an angle someone else doesn’t; all are prudent in battle. Observing the enemy as well can prove to be a fruitful endeavour, though I must confess that this aspect of my skill needs refinement. I do receive the occasional credit for using observation as an amateur weatherman.”

“Always good to have a goal and I am intrigued about the more practical side of your abilities, though the philosophy behind it is bound to be a much-layered theater piece in itself. Say, if a story were to be written about your life, what role would you play?”

“I would be the narrator. The world’s beauty is fully its own, it only takes someone with an eye for it to frame it right and to focus on the stories taking place. Every moment, every face, they are all important to tell the story. Who is to say that my perspective is the one worth following? I am sure your perspective could shape this world much more than mine.”

“I suppose it would. You wouldn’t play a role yourself?”

“In my daily business, I do hope to play a role, yes. Some have compared me to a fly on the wall, but I must disagree with that sentiment. A fly implies a sense of passiveness, a creature helpless to change the world it is. I fancy myself more as a butterfly. I know it is not humble of me to ascribe myself such influence, but I can’t help but notice that it is the smallest joys that can have the biggest impact on one's well-being. A cup of tea can bring the moment of respite a human so desperately needs.”

“I agree, though I’m more fond of a big feast myself.”

“Splendid! A banquet can really lift one's spirit, surrounded by friends. Truly, with every anecdote and tender embrace, it would do me good to see such a banquet realised. Perhaps I could lend a hand, next time the Deer have something to celebrate?”

“Hey, if you can throw a good feast, you’re already accepted here.”

“Haha, I’ll try my best.”

#engage spoilers

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moemoemammon · 3 years ago

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Ok. I need to get this idea out to someone. Solomon and mc are messing with potions for class and he accidentally gives mc a “youth” potion that makes you look younger. It turns mc into like a 4 year old for like a couple of days. What do you think would be the demon brothers (any) reaction to babysitting their master? What would they do? Idk i think it would be a little funny.

You’ve Gotta Be KIDding me, MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

He'll be exchanging words with that sorcerer bastard later. You can bet on that.

Lucifer doesn't take kindly to the idea of MC having run ins with magic in general, but at least this seems to be on the tamer side of the magical spectrum. And he had to admit, it's sort of amusing.

He intentionally watches you try to handle things on your own. Be it reaching for things too high up, stubbornly carrying things too heavy for your tiny arms, or making messes when you try to tidy up, Lucifer waits patiently until you ask for help (or until he can't take it anymore).

Treats you like he always does, despite your size. He doesn't talk to you like a child, or try to force toys and nap times onto you, but may or may not tease you when it's only the two of you. After all, you may look like a child, but that doesn't mean you are one. It's still funny to harass you a little, though.

"As independent as you may be, please refrain from trying to climb up onto the counter. If you need something, ask one of my brothers, or myself. If that isn't obvious enough, perhaps a 'time-out' is in order?"

Mammon

When Mammon recovers from laughing for twenty minutes, (and also making threats on Solomon's life) he then decides to take a billion pictures of you. Now calls you 'munchkin' and variations of it.

And if you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he is now. You're ACTUALLY helpless and vulnerable. I mean, you'd hardly make an appetizer for a random demon! So Mammon's gotta keep an eye on you. Maybe even a toddler leash-

Unintentionally treats you like an actual child. His older brother mode kicks in, and he finds himself taking care of you as naturally as breathing. Mammon? Being responsible?? It's more likely than you think.

He hands you a cup of juice before you can say 'I'm thirsty'. He'll slide over some sliced up fruits before your stomach has a chance to growl. You're tired? No kidding. That's why he's got a blanket and pillow on the sofa for you.

"Where do ya think you're goin', short stack? Nowhere without ME, that's where! I already told ya, if there's somethin' ya need, just tell me!" "Huh? I'm spoilin' ya too much? S-so what if I am?!"

Levi

Solomon came in with a child in tow that looked a hell of a lot like MC, and this man nearly had a heart attack. There's no way... did those two have a secret love child?! Th-that's just-!! Oh, it's only MC.

WAIT A MINUTE...TH-THIS IS....! ISNT THIS JUST LIKE 'DETECTIVE C*NAN'? Uwaaah... Just look at you! You're still just as smart as before, but you've become super small! Talk about the ultimate gap moe!!!

Levi isn't a big fan of the idea of tiny, sticky hands touching his things, so he's glad you've still got your normal brainpower. That being said, he finds himself talking to you normally. Maybe even easier than before!

It kinda throws him off that you guys can't do the things you'd normally do together. Your fingers don't have their usual dexterity so playing games is a challenge, and your attention span is a little shorter so these TSL marathons are killing you. But have no fear, Levi knows a ton of other things you could do together! He won't let something like this spoil his time with his dear Henry!

"If you can't use the controller, let's try something that doesn't need one! I've got a new Ruri Hana VR game with REAL motion and voice tracking! If you say the spells out loud, you'll cast them in game! Ah, and it auto-adjusts to the player's height, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Satan

HES DOING HIS BEST NOT TO LAUGH. SATAN WILL HANDLE THIS WITH POISE AND GRACE, BUT MAN....

Watching you struggle to enter the House of Lamentation in your oversized RAD uniform nearly sent him to the stratosphere. He inhaled tea when you almost tripped over your blazer and had to get a couple of slaps on the back from Asmo.

Does his best to find a cure for your 'little' problem, but the most that can be done is waiting it out. In the meantime, would you like him to read you a story? Large books are probably difficult on your tiny hands.

Constantly catches himself treating you like a tot. He's not trying to, but he can't help himself when he sees your round eyes staring up at him, or when he watches you try to climb up onto an armchair.

"Up we go- There. It must be hard for you, having to climb up into the chairs like that. I've got a stool if you'd like to use it? Though, I don't mind if you sit on my lap, too." "Hm? I'm embarrassing you? I-I didn't realize how overzealous I was being. Ehem...."

Asmo

Oh that Solomon and his silly spells and potions, always making trouble! It's just one of his many charm points! And seeing as there are no permanent consequences from this harmless mishap, Asmo's enjoying it to the fullest.

Can you blame him? You're SOOOO cute~! So tiny and adorable! Why would've know that was possible?? Look this way, MC! He wants to take some pictures of you! Lowkey uses you as a photo op prop

He used to work part time at a daycare, you know? Asmo's great with kids! But that also means he's treating you like one. There's personalized snacks, cute little nicknames, and he's already gone and bought you a week's worth of clothes. Nobody tell him it'll only last a day-

He can be a little annoying with the baby talk and all the little activities he's planned for you, but you can tell he's enjoying himself.

"MC, look~! I've got plenty of ribbons to decorate your hair with! I'll let you choose your favorites, and then we can set out in town!" "Hm? Where are we going? To the playground, silly! You must be dying for a play date after being stuck in this dreary house all day, right?"

Beel

He was kinda teetering between whether or not he should throw Solomon across the yard like a football when he saw him carrying a teeny MC, but all was forgiven when he learned it was an accident.

Has now designated himself the permanent MC carrier. Your feet will never touch the ground so long as you're a child. And it's no problem for the likes of Beel, when you're as light as a feather! That makes him a little more conscious about being careful with you though-

Be it piggybacking or carrying you in his arms, he hasn't released you since he's spotted you. And don't think he's forgotten about feeding you. Beel's also taken your meal prep upon himself. You'll prefer things that've easy to eat, right? Though it kills gum to give you smaller portions than usual.... it feels cruel...

Somewhere between babying you and treating you as usual. He speaks normally to you as he always does, but prioritizes your needs over everything else. He wants to make sure you're well taken care of until this potion wears off.

"You're sure you've had enough to eat? I know I gave you a snack earlier, but... to think you really can't eat as much as before.. I'll talk to Solomon again. It must be torture to have such a tiny stomach, I'll do my best to get you back to normal."

Belphie

There's obvious opportunity here, and Belphegor won't let it go to waste. (No not for murder)

He's getting a kick about your new mini mode. How's the weather down there? Do you need him to pick you up so you can reach the high shelves? Don't worry, he'll get you a sippy cup.

When the teasing has settled down, he pays attention to a more pressing matter: you're now the perfect side for cuddling. You're a living hot water bottle, not too big, not too small, tiny and soft and adorable. Er, he won't mention that last part though.

Anyway, Belphie thinks a little kid like you should go on and take a nap now. It's exhausting having such short legs and wandering around the house all day, right? He gets it. You look tired and he knows the solution.

"Ah, you're just as cozy as I thought you'd be... Though, it feels kind of weird holding you like this. It's like holding a stuffed animal, but you're not nearly as cute." "Pfft, what's that face for? Sorry, sorry, I was only teasing."

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mysteryshoptls · 3 years ago

Text

SSR Kalim Al-Asim Union Birthday Personal Story: Part 2

"Happy Birthday"

(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3)

[Scarabia Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Lilia: Then, I'll start the interview.

Kalim: Yeah! Ask me anything!

Lilia: “If you could pick any student from Night Raven College to be your sibling, who would you choose?”

Lilia: Only, you can't choose anyone from your own dorm… it seems.

Kalim: A sibling, hm… That means I'd have even more siblings than just the ones back home.

Lilia: Oh yeah, you have a ton of younger siblings, huh.

Kalim: Yeah! Everyone's so full of energy and the absolute cutest～!! This year, they all took a video of them celebrating my birthday and sent it to me.

Kalim: Right now, I can only see them when I go home during breaks, so I make sure to play with them a ton when I do get to go back home.

Lilia: How lovely. I bet it's a lively spectacle.

Kalim: That's true～ My dad said to me once, that "When you come home, it's so lively it's like there's a festival going on every day!"

Kalim: Whenever I go home, all the little ones are all like, "Welcome home―!" and just latch onto me. I really like it when they do that.

Kalim: I'll pick each of them up one by on and spin around with them. I'll start to feel a bit dizzy after a while, though.

Lilia: That sounds fun. What other kind of fun do you have with your siblings?

Kalim: With the youngest ones, I guess we play pretend a lot. Recently, some of them have really gotten into cooking, or business.

Kalim: Except, sometimes they'll nab lobsters from the kitchen, or take some golden coins from our store room…

Kalim: And every time they do, the servants would make a huge fuss. I mean, I guess I used to do the same as a kid and got scolded by Jamil a ton, so...

Kalim: Ah, I got it! I'd want Sebek to be my brother!

Lilia: Sebek? I'm happy that you chose my disciple. So, what made you pick him?

Kalim: Whenever Silver falls asleep, he'll shout loudly to wake him up, or lecture him, saying "Pull yourself together!"

Kalim: He's definitely being strict on Silver like that, cause he's thinking what's best for him, right?

Lilia: Kufufu, maybe that's so.

Kalim: See, I tend to spoil my younger siblings rotten. But, if Sebek was there with me…

Kalim: I'm sure he'll reprimand me, saying, "That won't help your younger siblings at all!"

Lilia: Hm… He sure does have a good eye for people. And he also chose someone that would help identify what he needs to work on.

Lilia: Kalim, you definitely are maturing well.

Kalim: Really? When I hear that from you, my confidence grows a bit!

(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3)

#twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al-asim #lilia vanrouge #twst kalim #twst lilia #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: jamil #mention: silver #mention: sebek

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rsa241 · 3 years ago

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Mammon is proud of me?

Hello there! I'm finally writing something...I want to try writing Mammon and Satan fic since not a lot of people write about them. ( Alternate meaning : I have read all of Mammon and Satan's fic on Ao3. I'm simply just waiting for the slow updates. Haha ) SO! I decided to write one!

I also got some inspiration on YT, Ao3 and Tumblr.

Warning! : Bad grammars, out of character, and bad writing.

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

Satan's POV :

I was looking for a book to read, to come up plans on pranking Lucifer. Just as I pull out a book, a small " poof " and I could feel my body getting smaller. When I opened my eyes, I have turned into a cat...

" Not again... "

I put my paw on my face as a sign of disappointment. I looked around to see if any of my brothers are here. Thankfully, everyone is absent at the moment. As I was about to hide in my room, the door in the common room opened wide.

" Yo! Lucifer- Huh, what's a cat doing here? "

Not Mammon, whatever it is. It has to be other than Mammon. Mammon bent down and pick me up carefully.

" Ayumi must've snuck in another cat. She's gonna be screwed if Lucifer found out. "

Ah, that's right! Ayumi is the right person to depend on right now.

" But she's at Lord Diavolo castle right now. Hmmm....I'll just take care of ya until she came back! " Mammon said while grinning mischievously.

Shoot.

" Meow! "

" I'll let you stay in The Great Mammon room till Ayumi came back from the castle. I-it's n-not because I like her or somethin'! "

There he goes with that tsundere attitude. He then carefully manage to hide me away from Lucifer and locked the door as soon as we enter his room without being caught.

Mammon finally put me down on his messy bed. He should really clean up his room once in a while. Well, it's not like my room is any different with books scattered all over the floor.

" Hah, Ayumi should really thank me after this for cover her. Imma go lie down for a bit. "

Mammon laid down and took out his D.D.D. Probably texting Ayumi. I stood on my four paws and went down form Mammon's bed and started to look around.

I suddenly realized how I never get a good look in Mammon's room, there's so many things I saw that I didn't knew was there. Flower crowns, mangas, some wrapped gifts and books...?

I walked toward his bookshelf, which surprised me since Mammon hardly read anything. I climb onto the small bookshelves and saw a book that caught my eyes, " Ginger the stray cat " . The very first book that Mammon had read me when I was born. I felt nostalgic and a tinge of guilt in me as I look back onto the past.

" Hey, kitty. Where did ya go? Watcha doin' there? "

Mammon walked toward me with a curious look on his face.

" Meow! "

" Hm, what're ya pointing at? "

I pointed the spine of the book with my paws. Mammon picked me up with one hand and took the book with him with the other. He carried me until we reach his bed and he began talking.

" Ya want to see this book? I bet you could even mutter a word reading this. "

Tsk, for once I agree with the idiot.

" Ya know...I used to read this to my younger brother, Satan. He would always come running up to me and beg me to read this book for him. I think I have an album of him somewhere. "

Wait...he has an album of me...?

He grabbed an old album under his bed and wiped the dust away. He then start went through pages one by one, reminiscing the old times.

" This is when Satan first time walk on his own two feet and oh! this one is when he starts gnawing everything. He even bit Lucifer arm once. " He laughed in between as he explain.

" Hah...I miss the old times...I'm very proud of him even though he always get angry, but he's still my cute little tan tan...I sound like a mom right now don't ya think? "

That nickname...It's been centuries since I last heard it.

" Hey Mammon, Lucifer called for you- what's this? "

" Ah, Ayumi! Ya better thank me for covering you! Ya would've been dead if Lucifer found out. "

" But, I didn't bring any cat. Other than Jinx of course. "

" Eh... "

" Can I name it? "

" You aren't planning keeping it, aren't you?! "

" Well, I just heard you talk to this cat by yourself. So another one wouldn't hurt. "

" W-what ya mean?! I ain't talkin' to t-that cat by myself! "

" I'll call it Tan Tan. "

" Tan...Tan...? "

" Yeah, it looks like Satan. So I'll name it Tan Tan. "

Oh Ayumi, if only you knew that I'm actually Satan right now. And how did she knew my nickname? Or is it just a coincidence?

" Hmm, now that I mention it...Where is Satan? "

" He's probably in his room or somethin' "

" Alright, I'll be bringing this cat with me. Satan would love to see it. Oh, and Lucifer called for you by the way. "

" Ughh...what does he need me for now... "

Ayumi carried me to my room and looked around.

" Weird, he's not here. "

Suddenly anther " poof " is heard and I've returned to my normal form. Except...I'm being carried in Ayumi's hand right now...

" Oh, hello there Satan. I'm guessing you got yourself into a little accident. "

" Y-yeah uhmm...could you please put me down. "

That was a little unexpected and...embarrassing...[ -///- ]

" Ah, sorry about that. "

Ayumi put me down as I trying to regain my composure.

" What did Mammon talk to you about? "

" Just about the old times. "

" I see. "

" You should go now, I have some things to settle first. "

" Alright, see you later. "

Ayumi closed the door, leaving me alone as I requested too. After a few moment of silence, I finally spoke.

" Mammon is...proud of me...? "

I felt my eyes started stinging a little...And are these...tears...?

" Out of all times, why am I crying now... "

He might be an idiot, but he's that same brother that took care of me when no one else would. He's the one that praised me extensively on controlling my anger. The one that gave my love for cats and books.

He's also the same brother that I belittle everyday, without ever thanking him for what he have done.

" I'll have to come up a way to thank him as a repayment for his kindness. "

The things you have done for me will not be in vain, I became who I am today because of you, Even with all the burdens and pain, I'll be forever grateful having you, So thank you my dear brother, For I promise that I will be better for you.

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I literally have to do research on children books and read them since I don't read that many storybooks when I was little haha...

I added a poem in case...

I hope you have a good day!

#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me fluff #kinda angst #kind of a brief mention of mc here #My writing is terrible omd....#Baby Satan #Mammon x Satan

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years ago

Text

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Ghost-Maker x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: Based on this ask right here! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Being the only non-vigilante in the family besides Alfred meant that she was the one who was normal. Or abnormal in her family’s case—but hey, they still loved their abnormal sister. She was the one who was able to provide rationality from a civilian perspective, another look from a different lens. She was softer too. Much softer than most of her family, quiet, reserved, kind. She didn’t like fighting. Didn’t like arguing and screaming until throats were raw.

Her nights weren’t usually spent outside fighting crime, though she did help out in the cave from time to time, readying equipment, providing food and drinks for before and after patrol routes. Most nights, she was at her apartment or still working. She liked not being a vigilante. Liked being able to go out with her friends at night and not be burdened by last minute bailouts because Two-Face decided to rob a bank or Penguin started a gang war with Joker.

All that being said, she did know her father’s enemies and friends. Being the first child in the manor and with less than two decades between her and him, his enemies and friends were well-known categories to her. Bruce’s oldest friend during his travels, Ghost-Maker, had also been someone she’d known—at least by story. She’d never met him until the night he showed up and challenged her father. Then he became a member of their family, though she could tell the others were wary—she didn’t blame them, but if she didn’t extend the olive branch, she knew they weren’t going to reach out.

They got along well, in her opinion. She liked to be around him and often felt like Ghost-Maker relaxed around her, even to the point that he spoke of his travels. It was no surprise to either of them when they started a romantic relationship. And while he wasn’t particularly monogamous, he seemed satisfied with her for the time being.

***

It was far, few, and in between when they were all in the cave at once, and not dressed in gear about to go out, but instead to hang around and train. She smiled as Cass and Duke wiped the floor with Jason and Dick. Tim and Damian were butting heads about a video game and Steph was leaning over the back of Barbara’s wheelchair, offering insight to some new update the tech genius was creating. Bruce and Ghost-Maker were leaning against the table, quietly murmuring back and forth to each other—in Latin, she had to note, figuring it was because she was in the middle of them, and they didn’t want her to know; she wasn’t upset.

“Jason, Cass, no hits below the belt,” she called out. “You both know better that.”

Cass nodded, readying her position again, but Jason stopped, propping his hands on his hips as he griped, “Okay, but in real life, people hit below the belt, (Y/N).”

She tutted at him. “Jason, you have to be the bigger person.” Raising a fist, she grinned, “Punch ‘em in the face.”

“I can do that!” he chirped.

“I didn’t mean punch Ca—oh, who am I kidding, he won’t be able to hit her,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in preparation for the all-out ass-kicking her second younger brother was going to get; she looked over at Bruce. “Wanna bet on them?”

He chuckled. “Ten on Cass.”

“But I was choosing Cass!” she pouted, then pursed her lips. “Fine. I’ll up it to twenty on Jason.”

“Do you two bet on your family often?” Ghost-Maker asked, and she looked over.

“When it’s a high-stakes match.” (Y/N) nodded at the two siblings circling one another, Duke and Dick had moved off the mats. “Jason and Cass are two of the best fighters alive. Each are capable of going hand to hand with Bruce and lasting for a quite a while.” She looked back at him. “When they really hit their primes, they’ll be better than you and dad.”

He snorted. “There are few people who are better than me and Bruce.”

(Y/N) propped a hand on her hip. “This coming from the man who gets his ass kicked every time you and my dad fight?”

“This coming from the woman who can’t fight at all?” he shot back, and her cheeks warmed, jaw snapping closed at the retort.

“I chose not to fight because I don’t believe in violence.”

“You literally just told him to punch someone in the face.”

“Just because I don’t believe in hitting people doesn’t mean I can’t tell someone. It’s just speech. Words.”

“I think you’re making excuses,” he smirked.

(Y/N) glared. “I think you’re being a jerk.”

“Nice comeback. Did you get it from a laffy taffy wrapper?”

Even Bruce snorted at that one and she couldn’t help but shift her weight between her feet as embarrassment flooded her body. “You are such a nasty person. Rude and nasty and mean.”

Ghost-Maker cocked a brow, at least she thought he did. “Aw, are you upset that I’m faster at firing off than you are?”

She scoffed. “Thanks for reminding me why we stopped screwing. Maybe the next time we do, you’ll fire second?” This time, his jaw went slack, and he gaped at her, but she was quick to add, “And for the record, being rude and condescending doesn’t make you look cool. It just makes you look like an asshole. But you’d know a lot about that, huh?”

“I think I know much more than you do, Primadonna.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh? So, what do you want me to call you? Miss Snobby?”

She turned to face him. “I’m warning you.”

“I’ve got it! Miss Prude!”

THWAP!

She’d let her fist fly before she even knew what she was doing and not even Ghost-Maker was able to react fast. He reached up, grabbing his nose as blood spilled out his nostrils, staining the rim of the cloth mask he wore. The noise in the cave stilled as everyone turned to face their eldest sister, all gaping, though Jason and Cass wore proud looks. Even Bruce had no idea how to react.

(Y/N), with hot cheeks, thrust a finger in his face and griped, “Newsflash, Ghost-Maker. The Wayne Family motto is ‘talk shit, get hit’.” She sped off towards the stairs, half out of embarrassment, the other half of giddy adrenaline. “I’m going home! Goodnight!”

Ghost-Maker merely watched her back as she left, blinking in stunned silence; Bruce snickered. “My daughter isn’t a vigilante, K. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t train her to defend herself.”

He shot his friend a glare and wiped his nose, feeling the sting, starting to walk off. “Go shove it.”

“And just where are you going?”

“You heard her,” he grinned. “The next time we screwed I had to fire second. Besides, someone’s gotta drive her home.”

Bruce was already starting after him. “That is my daughter you’re talking about! Get back here damnit! I will not let you taint her!”

“She’s already been tainted by me, old friend. Many times.”

“I DON’T NEED TO KNOW THAT, K! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

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inkykeiji · 4 years ago

Text

day two ❅ cause i’m mrs. snow, til death we’ll be freezing

don’t cry snowman, don’t leave me this way, a puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby

day one ❅ day two ❅ day three | series masterlist

character: todoroki touya | dabi

genre: smut + angst

notes: weeee yay day two!! touya + co go ice skating :) this, again, was not supposed to be as long as it is, but eh here we are!! | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), drug use, very rough sex, public sex, generally toxic relationships, size difference, tense family dynamics, reader’s probably a lil too obsessed with touya’s cum, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation

words: 8.3k

synopsis:

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side.

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

The wind howls gently, picking up swirls of snow and dusting it against the window, the snowflakes soft taptaptap’s echoing among the tiny bedroom. It’s grey but bright outside, the morning of December 22nd. Strands of hair stick to your cheeks and neck, chills erupting across your skin as you wiggle around beneath Touya’s heavy arm, laying across your waist in a loose grasp, your movements causing the blanket to slip from your clammy skin, a soft hiss spit through your teeth as the cool air of the room hits your heated skin. Touya’s got his head buried in the pillow, his torso laying half on top of yours, legs intertwined.

“Touya-nii,” you whimper, eyebrows furrowing a little in frustration as you struggle under him. “Niichan,”

“Mmph,” he emits an unintelligible noise in response, muffled by the pillow.

“Niichaaaaan,” the honorific leaves your lips in a whine, giving another weak shove at his arm. “Niichan, you’re so hot, I’m gonna melt,”

“Too bad. We’re not getting up yet,”

You whine again, your squirming becoming more vigorous. “But Touya-nii, I’m so thirsty! Please, my mouth is drier than the desert, I swear to God,”

“If you don’t stop acting like a brat, I’m gonna fuck you like a brat,”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

That gets his attention, fluffy head shooting up, white tufts tousled and standing on end, sleepy eyes squinting against the sudden light as he tries to glare at you. “Excuse me?”

The deep, rough lilt to his voice, heavy with sleep, makes your stomach flutter, blood rushing to your cheeks as you gaze at him.

Even in the morning, he’s stupidly beautiful.

“G-Got you up,” you giggle a little, reaching forward to run your fingers through his messy hair, smoothing it down in the process.

He deadpans, glaring at you for a moment, though there’s no heat in his eyes. You stare back, blinking twice, little fingers trailing down the side of his face and then tracing his jaw, murmuring about how pretty he is.

“Pretty, huh?” he finally sighs, a small grin spreading across his cheeks, head tilting to the side as your fingers travel down his neck, tracing the intricate black ink.

“Mm, very pretty,” you whisper to yourself, eyes zeroing in on his adams apple as it bobs with his chuckle. “But I’m still thirsty,”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up completely, sheets pooling at his waist. “Fucking brat,”

It’s just past 9am, but the kitchen is empty. Touya carries you there, and even though you’re more than capable of walking by yourself, you snuggle into his neck, scattering gentle kisses across the scarred skin, head resting against his broad shoulder.

He exhales a sigh as you do so, and you can physically feel the tension leaving his body, a tiny bit more with each kiss you press against him.

A soft yelp hitches in your throat as he places you on the counter, cold marble stinging the bare skin of your thighs, Touya smirking at the sound as he wanders over to the fridge, rooting through it for a moment before turning back towards you.

“Water?” you make a face. Touya deadpans for the second time in fifteen minutes.

“You said you were thirsty, did you not?”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off shyly, hooking your ankles together and swinging your legs a little. “I wanted chocolate milk,”

“No,” he says instantly, slamming the fridge shut with more force than necessary, jars jiggling and clinking together with the motion. “Water first,” he uncaps the bottle and holds it out to you. “Don’t you dare start pouting,” he adds, when your eyebrows are beginning to knit together, voice stern. “You did not drag me out of bed at nine in the fucking morning because your mouth was drier than the desert just to pout when I give you water. You know you aren’t allowed sugar first thing in the morning, baby,”

You suppose he has a point, working hard to smooth your face as you take the bottle from him.

“M’sorry, niichan,” you murmur before taking a sip, gazing at him through your lashes.

He glares at you for another moment before a tiny grin breaks his face, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“You’re really testing me this morning,” he mumbles as large hands pry your knees apart, wedging his hips between your thighs while hands curl around your hips and drag you towards the edge of the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist—an automatic reaction—ankles hooking again and holding him close, bodies pressed flush together.

Something’s still off, you can tell, evident in the way his head drops the moment you’re close enough, forehead resting against the crown of your head, exhaling.

“It’s not very nice, babygirl,” he speaks again after a beat of silence, calloused hands slipping under your—his, your mind reminds you—t-shirt, palming your hips. “Think you should make it up to me, hmm?”

And you want to, God, do you ever want to, want to kiss all of his sorrow away, want to pull those gorgeous broken whines and throaty moans from him, want to help him forget about whatever it is that’s bothering him so deeply, to lock it out of his head, shoving it from his mind as his brain is filled with thoughts of you. But…

“B-But niichan, we’re in the kitchen,” you have to force the trembling words from your mouth, biting down hard on your lip to keep from moaning as his teeth skim along your neck, evoking a full body shiver.

“So?” his lips brush against your skin, nimble fingers dipping into your cute pink panties.

“Anyone could—could come in any second and—”

“What? Catch us?” he pulls back a little, smirking. “And?” sapphire searches your face as heat rushes to your cheeks, rushes shamefully between your legs. He snorts a moment later, pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt. “Exactly,” the word is just a huff of breath as he nudges his nose against yours. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“I—”

“Don’t try lying,” he sounds bored as he cuts you off, fingers rubbing at your little hole through the damp cotton of your panties. “Your pussy’s very honest,”

And the broken whine that hitches in your chest is nothing short of absolutely pathetic, back arching and eyes fluttering as he begins flicking his thumb over your clit, keeping his touches light and fast.

“Yeah,” he breathes, the word bordering on a growl. “Of course you would. Bet you could cum from just this if Natsuo were watching, huh? Want everyone to know how easy you are for niichan? How much of a good little slut you are for niichan?”

“You planning on testing that theory out?”

Natsuo’s unexpected voice makes you jump, eyes snapping open and flying to his face as you choke on a gasp, Touya’s thumb choosing then to press hard against your swollen little clit, forcing an embarrassingly loud cry from your lips and paying no mind to his younger brother, who’s leaning casually against the doorframe with a smirk decorating his face. In fact, Touya doesn’t react to Natsuo at all—

Because he already knew.

“N-Niichan,” you nearly wail, burying your scalding face in his shoulder, nails digging into the smooth muscles of his back.

“Aww,” Natsuo coos, and he sounds genuine. “C’mon, don’t hide from me, sweetheart,”

“What, now you’re shy? When you were about to get off on the very thought just moments ago?” Touya’s patronizing chuckle vibrates against you, though his hands are on your back, petting you in smooth, soothing motions.

“Niisan, don’t tease,” Natsuo laughs, and you smush your face harder against Touya’s shoulder, whimpering a little as Natsuo’s voice gets closer. “I just figured if you two were gonna have a cheeky lil fuck in the kitchen, the least you could do is let me watch,”

Touya begins laughing again, starts to say something, voice abruptly cutting off. You stiffen, clinging to him, breath bated as you listen.

“Surprised you two were the first ones up,” Fuyumi’s voice floats through the space, tone clipped.

You peak out from over Touya’s shoulder, watching as Fuyumi fiddles around with their extremely expensive coffeemaker, a deep scowl etched into her face.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Touya asks lightly, sounding genuinely surprised, innocently curious.

“You know why,” she snaps, slamming her coffee mug down on the granite countertop and whipping her head around to glare at her older brother.

Touya chuckles and shakes his head, maintaining that he doesn’t, he swears, and if you didn’t know any better, if you couldn’t see the smug smirk on his face, the mocking amusement swirling in his eyes, you’d believe him to be telling the truth.

But Fuyumi knows him better than that, rolling her eyes and grumbling unintelligibly under her breath. Shouto chooses then to enter the kitchen, hair slightly mussed, looking a little like a white and red haystack atop his head, and Touya’s body goes rigid.

He yawns out his morning greeting, glancing around the room, mismatched eyes lingering on your bare thighs for just a second too long.

Touya notices, because Touya notices everything—especially when it comes to Shouto, cobalt eyes sharp and trained on his every movement—moving to shield you with his body as best he can.

“C’mon princess,” he’s mumbling as his hands force their way under your ass, hefting you up again. “Let’s go,”

And no one misses the way Shouto watches the two of you leave, the way his sleepy eyes focus on your ass—just barely concealed by the cotton panties, Touya’s hands providing more coverage than the garment does—then move down to his brother’s shameless erection, partially obscured by your body, inhaling a sharp gasp that everyone hears, that everyone knows what it’s in reaction to, that everyone ignores.

❅ ❅ ❅

Today’s activity is ice skating, Rei tells you as your exiting the cabin.

She looks excited, a smile on her soft lips, eyes bright as she pats your shoulder, and it makes warmth flutter in your chest, glad to see the events of yesterday haven’t completely dampened her mood.

“Do you know how to skate?” Natsuo asks you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I do,” you say proudly, looking over at Rei as you reach Touya’s car, sharing a grin. “Rei taught me not long after she and my father started dating,”

“Aw, mom,” Natsuo coos, looking over at his mother for reassurance. “That’s sweet,”

Rei hums, nodding as her eyes drift back to yours.

“Hold on a second,” she says as her smile slowly begins to dissipate, glancing from Touya’s hand on the handle of his car’s passenger door, to your face, to Natsuo standing by his own car a few feet away, brows knitting.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in the car?” his response comes out as a question, spoken slowly as he’s worried it’s the wrong answer, tilting his head a little like a puppy.

“There’s no need for you to take more than one car,” Rei says pointedly, her gaze darting to Touya, holding his eyes even though she was speaking to Natsuo. His mouth falls open to protest, but she continues. “The five of you will fit in one. We’ll see you there,”

Her tone is final as she turns away and gets into her own car, the five of you watching in silence as it reverses onto the road, snow and ice cracking and popping under the thick tires. Natsuo turns back to the group, a large, boyish smile on his face.

“It’s fine! We’ll take my car,” Natsuo’s eyes soften a little as he looks over at his silver Porsche, patting the roof affectionately.

“No,” Fuyumi responds immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Stone eyes fly back to her face, alarmed. “What! Why?”

“Because you drive like a lunatic—I refuse to ride in any car when you’re behind the wheel,”

Natsuo frowns as he rounds his car, coming to stand with the group. “Well your car isn’t here, since you came up with mom, so—”

“We can take Touya’s car,”

“No,” Touya nearly growls, the unexpected rumbling deep in his chest causing everyone to flinch.

“Why not?” Fuyumi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she glances at her older brother. “I can’t think of any reason—”

“He is not stepping foot in my fucking car,”

Fuyumi’s eyes widen slightly, staring at him in disbelief, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding, or are you really that stupid?”

“Touya-nii,” you gasp softly, tugging on his arm a little and then hugging it to your chest. His voice drips with venom, sharper than a tungsten needle, and it makes both you and Natsuo wince, despite not being the object of his fury.

“Fine, Christ, I just won’t come then,” Shouto finally chimes in with a roll of his eyes. “Will that make you happy?”

Touya whirls around to face him, rips his arm from your grasp so aggressively, so suddenly, that it sends you stumbling backwards. Natsuo catches you quickly, righting you with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“You wanna know what would make me happy? You fucking de—”

“That’s enough,” Fuyumi cuts him off with a glare so fierce it sends chills skittering across your skin, regardless of the thick sweaterdress and heavy jacket you’re currently wrapped up in. Natsuo must feel it course through your body, because he pulls you tighter against him, fingers digging into your shoulder.

Touya’s eyes snap to his sister, raising an eyebrow as a terrifying smile spreads across his face. It’s a smile you’ve only seen a few times before, gleaming white teeth on display, angular jaw clenched tightly. It’s a smile that makes icy dread pool in your stomach, thick and heavy, and you try to press yourself closer to Natsuo, body flush against his side, partially hiding your face in his chest.

Still, Fuyumi does not waver. “You are an adult, Touya. For God’s sake, act like one! Shouto is not a disease—”

“Could’ve fooled me,”

“—that will infect your car! He’s your baby brother!”

Touya’s eye twitches at the term, painful smile stretching even wider. In the pale afternoon sunlight, those glinting white teeth look pointier than normal, and you whimper into Natsuo’s chest.

“My car, my rules,”

“Oh my God! Are you being ser—”

“Alright, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Natsuo jumps in quickly, trying to keep his voice light. “You’re scaring our little princess, niisan,” he says, voice softer, a large hand rubbing your shoulder in comfort.

Touya spins around again, wild sapphire eyes finding yours, his face falling the moment your gazes meet.

Little fingers have tangled themselves in Natsuo’s jacket, clinging to him so hard the skin over your knuckles is stretched taut. Your entire body trembles as you blink hard, trying in vain to clear the tears rushing to your eyes. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, so loud you can’t hear what Touya says as he swoops towards you, eyes wide and worried.

“We’ll take my car, and Fuyumi will drive.”

Natsuo’s voice holds the same note of finality that his mother’s does, large hand still curled around your shoulder as firm stone eyes scan the three faces in front of him.

❅ ❅ ❅

Touya refuses to have you and Shouto in the back seat alone, and Natsuo insists that he sits in the passenger seat, to make sure Fuyumi doesn’t hurt his baby, he explains, which is how you end up smack in the middle of the oldest and youngest Todoroki children.

It’s cramped—they’re both too big to be in the backseat of such a small car—resulting in the three of you being squished together, your body packed in tightly—practically wedged—between theirs.

It’s nearly impossible to keep your thigh from brushing against Shouto’s, but you try anyway, leaning into Touya as much as you can. A strong, possessive arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers fisted in the material of your little sweaterdress, sapphire eyes hyper-focused on the way Shouto’s corduroy clad thigh keeps knocking against your bare knee with every gentle jolt of the car.

But when Shouto idly drops his large hands heavily to his lap with a sigh, long fingers splayed casually, just the very tip of his pinky resting against your thigh—well.

Touya sees fucking red, yanking your body away from his little brother immediately with a vicious growl caught in his throat, the movement so sudden and unexpected it has both you and Shouto gasping, heterochromatic eyes wide and alert as they snap to his eldest brother’s face,

He hadn’t even noticed. Truthfully, you probably wouldn’t have either if it hadn’t been Touya’s suffocating, overbearing presence beside you—engulfing you, causing you to be excessively aware of every miniscule movement, every jostle and touch and bump.

“Don’t fucking touch her,”

It takes Shouto another half a second before the realization hits him, eyes darting down to his thighs, finally taking note of the placement of his fingers. Then he’s scoffing, rolling his eyes as he huffs to himself, quiet and under his breath, something about Touya being absolutely ridiculous and childish and insecure.

Yet Shouto’s legs spread a little more every time Touya pulls you a few centimeters closer to him, ensuring that your thighs can never quite escape his, his strong muscles constantly nudging against yours.

It isn’t until you push your knee back against his, hard and purposeful, giving Shouto a sharp look, that this behaviour finally halts.

“Who’s being childish now?” you hiss, eyes holding his sternly, widening a moment later as if to say, Stop aggravating him.

Shouto’s face falls, lips tugging down into a frown as his gaze searches your face, head shaking a little. He opens his mouth—to apologize, you think—but is cut off by Touya’s immature snickering, his chest vibrating against your back.

“Fuck you,” he seethes instead, eyes narrowing and mouth snapping into a firm, unimpressed line.

“Watch it—”

“Play nice, you two,” Natsuo warns from the front seat. “I won’t hesitate to pull this car over and beat both your asses on the side of the road for everyone to see,”

“Okay, dad,” Shouto snorts as Touya simultaneously responds with, “I’d like to see you try,”

Nevertheless, Natsuo’s little warning does manage to shut them up for the remainder of the ride, Shouto crossing his legs, knees pressed up painfully against the door in an attempt to stop touching you. You’re practically in Touya’s lap by the time you arrive at the Ena Skating Rink at Crystal Park, seatbelt uncomfortably biting into your flesh through your clothing.

“I don’t understand why we had to drive an hour just to go skating,” Shouto grumbles just as Fuyumi turns into the parking lot, face set in a deep frown, eyebrows furrowed as he glares out the window. “There was a perfectly fine lake like, ten minutes from the cabin,”

“Shou, you sound like a petulant teenager,”

“Technically, he is a petulant teenager,”

“Not for much longer,”

“That’s right, your birthday’s coming up,” you say automatically without thinking, words slipping from your mouth as Fuyumi circles the lot in search of a parking spot. In the past, Shouto would’ve ignored such a slip-up, figuring the politeness of providing you an answer not worth Touya’s wrath, but now he turns to face you with a small smile, heterochromatic eyes almost twinkling, mask of irritability burning off his face in an instant.

“Yeah, in a few weeks,” he shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll be twenty,”

Do you have any plans?

The question lingers on the tip of your tongue, words frozen at the back of your throat as Touya’s hand curls protectively around you, strong fingers digging into your plush waist hard enough to make you wince.

But Shouto has become pretty good at reading you over these past few years, no longer needs you to voice your thoughts—the two of you have become accustomed to communicating through looks and expressions alone, to keep from sending Touya into an absolute rampage, to keep the both of you safe.

“Not sure what I’m doing yet,” he answers, keeping his voice light, though those mismatched eyes are sharply trained on your face, ready to analyze and decode whatever expression your features morph into.

This is the first time he’s ever verbally answered, though, and it hits you like a bag of bricks swung at your chest, the realization that this is something the two of you have built up together, something the two of you have spent years doing, working together silently, quietly, subtly, to keep Touya placid, something the two of you have been subconsciously doing to protect each other.

The thought inspires an odd feeling in your stomach, chest tightening with something akin to anxiety, something bitter and heavy rooting in the pit of your belly.

Touya saves you from having to answer, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt for you the moment Fuyumi’s finished reversing the car and nearly hauling you out before she’s even cut the engine.

❅ ❅ ❅

“You’re not coming?” you ask Touya as he slips your foot into a skate, beginning to lace it up.

Touya shakes his head. “No,”

“Touya never learned how to skate—refused to, actually,” Natsuo informs you, sitting down next to you on the bench and playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

Tilting you head, you stare at him, a soft little oh slipping from your lips. Touya avoids your gaze, jaw clenching rhythmically.

“It’s for the best. He really shouldn’t be near any sort of blade for an extended period of time, not while Shouto’s in reach,” Natsuo jokes, though no one laughs, because it’s true.

Touya spends most of his time leaning against the boards, bright sapphire eyes trained on you, glued to you, cataloging all of your movements, each of your cute little giggles and soft little smiles, every hand on your shoulder or waist as it steadies you.

It’s hard for him to watch.

It’s hard for him to watch the way your eyes twinkle as Fuyumi speaks to you, the two of you gliding around the ice nonchalantly, hard for him to watch the way Natsuo pulls endless laughter from your throat as his gloved hands hold yours, pulling you along with him, hard for him to watch when Shouto appears beside you, slowing his stride to talk animatedly to you, the two of you absorbed in whatever discussion you’re having.

And yet, he can tell something isn’t right. Your eyes are twinkling, but they don’t gleam the way they do when you gaze at him. You’re laughing, but it isn’t as bubbly and pure as it is when evoked by him. You’re talking, but you aren’t wholly and completely captivated by whatever it is Shouto’s saying to you, gaze constantly drifting just over his shoulder, connecting with Touya’s.

Those ten little words from the night before echo through his mind again, and his molars grind together, but the look in your eyes, the way your face positively lights up when you skate towards him, past him, blowing kisses and giggling behind mitten covered hands, stomps them to little pieces, to dust, your fleeting presence blowing them away. He feels like he can fucking breathe again, each time you glide by him, resolve hardening a little more with every lap past him.

No, he knows he’s the best for you, absolutely is without a doubt the very best for you— and you confirm it with that loving, adoring, doting look every single time.

Despite this, he keeps disappearing intermittently, your heart sinking just a little bit more every time you look over to see him nowhere to be found, a sour taste settling on the back of your tongue. This is only the second day into the trip and you’re already terrified, knowing that he’s filling his nostrils with that fine white powder the moment he begins to feel his high fading, the moment he feels himself beginning to come down.

And by the third time he vanishes within a single hour, you decide you can no longer stand by and do nothing, say nothing—he’s gone for more than usual this time, an uneasy sense of dread flooding your body, making your limbs tingle as your heart begins to race, plopping down on the wooden bench and bending down to quickly unlace your skates. Your voice shakes as you tell the others that you’d like to take a short break from skating, claiming that your feet are sore, and that you’d like to rest for a while.

In actuality, you’re sure they all know what you’re doing, itching to go search for Touya, heart pounding painfully as several scenarios flash through your mind, but they say nothing, nodding with those polite smiles they all plaster on their faces any time something like this occurs.

The muscles in your thighs ache as you jog across the snow-dusted field, eyes frantically darting around the large open space in search for a man with ivory hair and azure eyes. Your feet take off the moment you spot him, an instinctual reaction, breath ragged and burning in your chest as you barrel into him, winding your arms around his waist tightly and burying your face in his strong chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he’s murmuring softly, arms encircling you and squeezing you against him, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “What’s going on, princess?”

Pulling back, your eyes study his face, stomach plummeting when you see it.

“Out playing in the snow again?”

Cobalt eyes narrow, Touya tilting his head in question as he stares at you. A frown mars your face, deep sigh leaving your nostrils without your permission, and Touya bristles. A tender thumb swipes across his nose, showing him the pure white powder it gathers.

“Slow down,” you say softly, gently, cautious eyes watching him carefully. “I don’t want a trip to the ER for Christmas,”

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you can see it, the blue fire simmering deep within them, but because it’s Christmas—and only because it’s Christmas—he blinks twice, extinguishing the flame to dull embers.

Chest heaving once, deep and heavy, he sighs out of parted lips, holding your hand to his cheek. Sapphire eyes close briefly as he nuzzles his face into your touch, and for a moment—just for a second—you think he’s about to apologize.

But that would be a Christmas miracle.

“Keep me in line,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping a little in defeat, a tiny sardonic grin on his lips as his eyes open again, searching your face. “Okay? Can’t let my best girl down on Christmas, now, can I?”

And although his shoulders are straining under the weight of this new responsibility—to try and restrain himself a little more, to not solely rely on the drugs to numb him to everything, to give up autonomy, power, to you—a weight feels like it’s been lifted off of yours, regardless of the fact that he’s asking you to control him, and you inhale deeply, able to breathe again.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side. The thought produces an inexplicable lump in his throat and he blinks hard, glittering eyes sweeping across your face before he seizes it, large hands cupping your jaw almost painfully as he pulls your face towards his, lips capturing yours in a crushing kiss.

Niichan! You try to squeal, muffled by his lips, Touya using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, down your throat.

Traitorous as ever, your body melts into his only a second later, fingers latching behind his neck, trying to pull yourself closer.

“I need more,” he mumbles against your lips before pecking them again, eyes still closed. “I need more, baby, I need more right now,”

“Then take it,” you whine breathlessly into his mouth, echoing your words from the night before. “Take it, it’s yours,”

❅ ❅ ❅

It smells like damp rubber and stale snow, with a hint of year-old hard candy crushed beneath snow boots, releasing faint scents of artificial strawberry and orange.

The restroom is filthy, but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to pay much mind to the grime on the walls, or the flaky rust on the faucet—which is quietly dripping intermittently, covered in little droplets of condensation that gleam under the harsh florescent light humming above, tubes exposed.

The cement wall is cold against your bare skin as Touya rucks your dress up around your waist, hands under your ass supporting your weight as your legs wrap around him obediently, praising you for listening to him and never wearing pants, even in weather like this, because god, it makes everything so much easier, baby.

In the past, you would’ve been in a rush, positive you didn’t have much time before someone noticed your absence.

But your family is used to this now, completely unphased by the two of you disappearing for twenty, sometimes thirty minutes and returning with swollen lips and freshly fucked hair.

It’s not like they can say anything, anyway—it’s not like anything is going to stop the two of you now; it’s not like anything would’ve stopped the two of you before, either.

Despite this, Touya still doesn’t exactly take his time with you, large hands pawing at your breasts, your waist, your hips, fingers dipping into the elastic waistband of your panties just to let it snap back against your skin, reveling in the little yelp it conjures from you.

“Already soaked,” he sneers in your ear as two fingers skim over your lace-clad cunt. “Of course you are. I don’t know why I expected any less,” he huffs out a chuckle; a mean, harsh sound that ghosts over the shell of your ear before he captures it with his teeth, biting down hard and forcing a high-pitched squeal from your throat. “Because my baby’s such a Goddamn slut, isn’t she,” his lips are against your ear as he murmurs in that low, sultry voice, hot breath contrasting the cool air of the restroom, and you shiver violently.

“Only for you,” you whine out, already breathless.

And you’ll never get over how easily he knocks the air out of your lungs with just a few dirty words and prodding fingers, stroking your slit through drenched lace in a way that’s almost gentle, careful, purposeful, sure to keep his touches as teasing and not nearly enough.

Still, those three words have more of an effect on him than you would’ve thought, a possessive growl ripping from his chest as he grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh, the denim rough against your soft skin.

That growl in particular is your favourite, and you tell him so.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, pulling back as sapphire searches your face rapidly, wide and bright and alert with the cocaine rushing through his body.

“Makes me—” sharp teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, just above your shoulder, a loud gasp cutting you off and bouncing against the walls of the small room. “Makes me wet, niichan,”

He groans into your skin, tongue wet and warm and caressing the skin in little licks back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as he sucks, branding you with brilliant violet.

“What’s this? My princess talking so dirty without being prompted?” he pulls back to look at you, and you can see the amusement dancing in his deep, deep eyes, endless pits of cerulean smothering everything their gaze touches, almost voracious as they soak it all up, feeling like they’re sucking the very life from you in the most delicious way.

A pitiful squeak escapes your lips in the form of an answer, heat seeping into your cheeks. He’s mocking you—you can tell. Those three words uttered from your lips aren’t even that dirty, are nothing compared to some of the things that have come out of your mouth while you’re delirious on his cock, begging for his cum.

Still, you’re unable to find your voice, staring at him in an almost helpless manner, a little kitten in the clutches of a jaguar, claws beginning to close in on you, trapping you between heavy, sharp paws.

“Ah,” he smirks, eyes darkening dangerously. “Not so bold when niichan’s actually looking at you, are you?”

Front teeth dig into your bottom lip, chewing on it a little as you hold his gaze, feeling heat gush between your thighs, the symphony of your combined slightly ragged breathing ringing in your ears.

“Say it again,”

And you try—really, you do, lips separating as you try to force the words out, a nasty combination of frustration and shame eroding your chest, burning and acidic, then shaking your head a moment later.

“Just,” you whimper as you try to pathetically rock against him. “Please?”

“Nah, nah, nah,” he’s shaking his head, that stupid grin etched across his face, pulling back even more but keeping you up against the wall, hands still cupping your ass, hips pinning yours. “Niichan isn’t gonna fuck you now unless you ask for it,”

Your forehead creases with a deep frown. You usually ask him to fuck you, don’t you? “I alwa—”

“No, no, you don’t,” he says simply with a tilt of his head. “Niichan wants you to really ask for it this time,”

You blink rapidly in confusion. “I-I don’t understand,”

Little breaths are beginning to leave your mouth, speeding up with the racing of your heart, terrified to upset him. Yet he looks amused, looks like he’s having so much fun as he torments you.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos with a false pout, mimicking your own. “You’re not that stupid, are you?”

A little whimper leaves your lips, chin twitching, threatening to begin trembling as you shake your head at him, unable to find words. Heat floods your face again, little pinpricks under the skin of your cheeks, a physical manifestation of your humiliation as he tuts his tongue.

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly, though you can feel his cock throbbing through the thick denim of his jeans. “Just ask for my cock, babygirl,”

Although oozing with patronization, his voice is soft, blown pupils gazing at you with so much love it’s nearly overflowing from his eyes, slender fingers kneading the flesh of your ass almost tenderly as he waits.

And that’s all the encouragement you need, really.

“I-I want your cock, nii—” you begin, voice fading as your eyes meet his unimpressed gaze, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say Really? That’s the best you got?

A fierce need to prove yourself, to make him moan again, to make his stomach tense from just your words alone, blazes in your chest, burning through your veins and giving you another surge of confidence.

Gazing at him through your lashes, you pout a little more. “Niichan,” you whine out the honorific, back arching a little as you do. “Please, niichan, give it to me, I’m begging, my pussy is aching for your cock, T-Touya-nii—I need it filling me up, need it right now, f-feels so empty without you stretching me wide open,” the sentence fades off into a little whimper, but his lidded, glazed eyes, and the way his tongue runs along his bottom lip as he stares at you spurs you on, more dirty words spilling from your lips. “Feels—Feels wrong without your f-fat cock inside of me,” you nearly weep. “Please, niichan, make it right again,”

The gentle tremble in your voice only adds to it, somehow manages to make you seem so fucking innocent as you whine out such filthy words, and Touya can barely handle it, rubbing against your thigh, the repetitive motion of the denim dragging across your soft skin causing it to chafe.

“Fucking Christ,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes slip shut. “I wish I had recorded that,”

A cute, shy little giggle bubbles up your throat, face still burning. “I-I can say it again, if you want, niichan,”

He laughs—a genuine laugh deep in his throat, paired with a smile that meets his eyes—and presses a chaste kiss to your nose.

“One day, I’ll film us,” he vows, and the thought alone makes your stomach swoop. “But now, niichan’s gonna make you feel right again, okay, princess?”

“Oh, please, please,” you’re whimpering, body quivering against him.

“Shh, niichan’s got you,” he murmurs as he fiddles with his belt using a singular hand, your tiny fingers wandering down between your bodies to aid him.

Shoving your panties to the side, the head of his cock presses against you, and you wince in anticipation of the stretch—the stretch you so lovingly begged him for, he reminds you, sapphire eyes soaking up every single one of your expressions as he pushes in; reveling in the way your shut lids tighten, face screwing up in pain as the softest little yelp hitches in your throat.

It burns unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, abused cunt still sore and raw from the night before, from being fucked so ruthlessly less than twenty-four hours ago.

But you’re so wet, he breathes, rolling his hips slowly, stretching you little hole out just a bit more with each unhurried rock of his hips against yours. The wetness does nothing to stop the sting that accompanies his motions, though, reopening the tiny superficial fissures in your sensitive skin, quite literally tearing you apart, again, as your cunt yields to his girth.

“Niichan, hurts,”

“Yeah, baby?”

Little fingers curl in his thick sweater, and you whimper out an affirmative, head nodding lethargically against his shoulder.

“I thought you wanted niichan to fill you up?” he speaks as though he’s confused, a hint of condescension sown into the question, never halting his thrusts.

“I-I do!” you say quickly, head shooting up to gaze at him with glassy eyes, thick shield of unshed tears causing them to gleam in the harsh light. “I do,”

“Well then,” he smirks at you, hips pulling back, slow and controlled, before thrusting back in, sharp and fast, so hard it shoves your body up the wall, head whacking against the concrete with such force it sends agonizing pain shooting through your skull like lightning strikes. “Stop being a fucking brat, and take what niichan’s giving you,” he scolds over the piercing cry that falls from your lips, voice rough, deep, rumbling the way thunder does, buried in thick clouds on a humid summer’s day.

“Ungrateful little slut,” he snarls out, panting a little as his hips set a punishing pace, rapidly slamming into you, his jutting hipbones digging into the fresh bruises from the night before.

And you’re powerless to stop the noises you’re emitting, catching in your throat in time with his harsh thrusts, little mewls of niichan! and broken whines bouncing off the solid, cold walls, each one reverberating in his skull, forcing his hips to drive faster, harder, deeper.

But it’s fucking intoxicating, the way he’s pulling those needy little sounds from you as tears slip down your cheeks, pompously spitting demeaning words at you, sugarcoated in a thin, gleaming layer of praise. He’s a goddamn drug, words invading your mind and casting a thick haze over it, and during that moment all you can see is him, hear is him, taste is him—you swear you can feel him rushing through your veins, his heady scent of expensive cologne mixed with hickory campfire and a hint of Marlboros filling your lungs, the organs swelling painfully as you hold him inside your chest, trying to keep a piece of him close to your heart.

He stops to readjust your position, grunting as hooks an arm under your knee and yanks, ripping it from around his waist and forcing it toward your torso, your ankle nearly resting on his shoulder, his hand splayed flat against the dirty wall, using it as leverage. Your other leg clings to him, wrapped so tightly around his body that the muscles are beginning to quiver. Still, this brief pause affords you a much needed moment to catch your breath before his hips piston into you again, harsh, strong, fast, cockhead slamming against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

Each thrust forces another yelp to tear from your throat, your voice hoarse and raw, as he bruises your abused cervix, sharp spikes of pain shooting up your lower back and down your trembling thighs. He’s a watery blur at this point, eyes overflowing with tears, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders as you clutch him, arms beginning to ache from holding yourself up.

Tufts of white hair stick to his neck and forehead, clumped together with sweat. He’s almost whining out curses, slipping from between clenched teeth as his thrusts continue to pick up speed, although you can barely hear him over the sound of your own ragged breathing, peppered with pitiful little sobs that leave your chest heaving.

“Look at you,” he gasps out, wild sapphire eyes searching your face. “So fucking beautiful, taking my cock so well,”

And even in such a position, inebriated from the potent combination of pain and pleasure and him, his praise still makes your heart soar. A little pink tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips, bitten raw by him and salty with your own tears. Strand of hair stick to your puffy cheeks, though you’re unsure if they’re coated in sweat or tears.

“C’mon, baby,” he nearly keens. “Want you to be a good girl and cum for me,”

And those two tiny, four letter words are the magic words, like they always are, your head nodding vigorously, incoherent babbling bubbling past your lips; yes niichan, of course, wanna be a good girl for you, touya-nii, the best girl, your best girl.

He gives you permission to touch your clit, swollen and aching from neglect, your fingers sneaking between your bodies to rub at it, pussy clenching almost immediately.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “Yeah baby, just like that, milk niichan for all the cum he’s got,”

The praise, mixed with a direct command, has your fingers speeding up, moving in rapid circular motions, that cord of heat in your stomach coiling tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until it finally snaps, your little cunt throbbing as you gush around his cock.

He follows immediately after with a dark growl of your name, hips stilling as he finally cums, pinning you against the wall, cockhead pressed tightly against your sore cervix.

It’s thick, scalding, and copious, wrecked little noises getting caught in your throat as his cock pulses, filling you with endless spurts of cum; so much, too much, and you’re sure your womb isn’t nearly big enough to take it all, positive that it’s leaking out of you, running down your ass and down his balls.

You still haven’t caught your breath by the time Touya’s releasing you, hands firm on your hips as he places you gently on your feet, keeping you steady as your legs shake. You can still feel his cum leaking out of you, and you wish you had something better than your thin panties to keep it inside of you. With a pout, you tell him so, voice absolutely ruined as you wheeze out, “I-I wish I had a-a plug, niichan, to hold all of your cum inside me,”

“Christ,” he breathes, eyes twinkling as he gazes down at you, brushing his slender fingers through your sweaty hair. “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

❅ ❅ ❅

You don’t remember much of the drive home, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids from falling shut. Touya’s half dried cum is sticky—now practically gelatinous—in your panties and the mere thought of it makes you whimper, wiggling your hips a little, trying to shuffle closer to him.

It makes you feel needy. It makes him feel wanted.

“Niichan’s here, baby,” he’s murmuring into your hair as he readjusts his arm around your waist, pulling both your legs over his lap, your side still pressed firmly against his. “Niichan’s here,”

A pitiful whine slips from your lips, little fingers curling in his hoodie as warm hands travel up your dress, kneading the supple flesh of your thighs. Fingers press into the bruises he knows are there without even having to look, smirking at the way you hiss, contrasted by the way your thighs spread just a bit more, giving him more room to work, to play. The pads of his fingers graze the tiny raised cuts that the rough denim of his jeans left behind, tracing the raised little scabs.

“Sleep,” he tells you softly. “You did so good today, such a good little girl for me, my best girl,”

And his voice is the most soothing lullaby, smooth like melted platinum and quiet enough that only you can hear it, undoubtedly drowned out to the others by the staticky car radio.

❅ ❅ ❅

The dark bedroom is bleary, as if you were gazing at it though a thick slab of glass, eyes scanning the room slowly, mumbling out something that’s unintelligible even to yourself.

You’re not exactly sure how you got here, sitting on one of the twin beds in yours and Touya’s shared bedroom, propped up against the tiny headboard like a doll.

Touya’s murmuring to you softly as tender hands find the hem of your dress, tugging it up slowly, slowly, slowly, a low whine getting caught in your throat as your soft skin is exposed to the cool air, until he’s removed it from you completely. The clasp at the back of your bra snaps, and you want to tell him to be more gentle, this is your favourite bra, but you can’t seem to make your tongue move, the muscle sitting slimy and heavy in your mouth. Your vision disappears entirely for a second as something soft is slipped over your head, your body engulfed in the scent of hickory wood and Marlboro smoke.

Then large hands are all over you, maneuvering you onto your side then rolling you onto your back, gently prying your thighs open a moment later as he kneels between them, the springy mattress dipping with his weight.

“Touya-nii,” his name escapes your lips in a jumbled whine of protest.

“Shh, baby,” he hushes you, pulling your soiled panties down your legs.

Every muscle in your body aches, weighted down with fatigue from the long day, a few weak kicks—more of a fluttering of your legs, really—being all you’re able to manage in resistance.

“Hurts, niichan,” you whimper, through your eyelids are already falling shut again, exhaustion tugging at your consciousness gently.

“I know, princess,” he responds, and you’re just awake enough for the words to register, brow furrowing. His body heat disappears for a moment from between your thighs as he leans over to grab something, then returns, waves of comforting warmth rolling off of him.

Your body flinches ever so slightly as you feel something cold and smooth being spread across your swollen folds and puffy little hole. Cream, your mind supplies feebly.

“Niichan—”

“Quiet now,” he says, voice firmer than before. An order, this time. “Go to sleep, baby, and let niichan take care of this,”

Hot, tingling sparks blossom deep in the pit of your stomach, making your entire body buzz, like you’re high off him again, the sensation causing your chest to swell. This is what love feels like—Touya rubbing cool, soothing cream into your raw skin as he murmurs soft praises to you—you’re absolutely positive about it.

“I love you,”

The words leave your lips as a dreamy sigh, body finally relaxing against the mattress again.

He presses a tender kiss to your inner thigh, the soft skin a mosaic of crimson and violet from his previous ministrations. “I love you more,”

And that’s the last thing you feel, the last thing you hear as your mind slowly drifts into unconsciousness, filled with hazy images of a pretty boy with glowing sapphires for eyes and ivory for hair, of slim veiny hands decorated with the most magnificent black ink, the pads of their fingertips dancing along your skin, of a deep, sultry voice smoother than satin murmuring how much it loves you as lips crawl up your body—up your thighs, over your stomach and ribs, along the curve of you neck, until finally, they reach yours.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya smut #dabi #AAAAH this was supposed to be posted last night but i fell asleep editing it after getting distracted by SOMEONE #anyway enjoy!!#i hope u all like it!!#whew two down three to go #technically two to go because part four is nearly finished ehehe #tw pseudo-incest #OH THERES ALSO SOME FORESHADOWING IN HERE EUEUEUEUEUEEUEUE #MARI KNOWS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

Text

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

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