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totalswag · 2 months ago

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baby girls first birthday — RAFE CAMERON

authors note since my last dad!rafe fic did so well i thought why not make another one. you can find it fourth of july

join my taglist if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary celebrating layla's first birthday surrounded with friends and family.

warning(s) none just a whole lotta cuteness.

Today, one year ago, you brought your first daughter Layla into the world. Amazing how quickly a year can pass. It seems like you just gave birth and cradling her in your arms.

Can't count on your fingers how many times you cried the past two days over Layla turning one. No one can blame you for feeling these emotions. She's your first born.

“Can you believe she’s one?” Rafe says while setting up the last string of balloons over the arch wall that leads into the kitchen.

You shake your head, “no I don’t” feeling your words crack with emotion as you prepare breakfast— this was gonna be a special morning breakfast.

As the scent of freshly cooked pancakes permeated the air, you gently plated them, adding a sprinkle of syrup and a small dollop of whipped cream—just enough to taste. You cut the pancakes into tiny, baby-sized pieces, just right for Layla's delicate hands. A few blueberries on the side rounded out the meal, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy as you placed the plate in her high chair.

Rafe and you walked upstairs together to see if Layla was up. The sounds of her little gibberish could be heard down the hall. Layla was looking around her room sitting up— insane smile forms on her when she sees you two get closer. She lifts her arms up to get out.

"Happy first birthday, baby girl," you both exclaim.

She giggles with glee as Rafe scoops her up and places her on his hip before giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She stares at him in complete aww for a moment.

Layla turns to face you, her smile widening, her body slanting in your direction as if she wanted you to give her a quick hug. "My precious girl is one?" You hold her close to you for a couple seconds.

When you walk at the end of the stairs, Layla's eyes gleam with curiosity seeing the lavender colors. She saw the decorations of butterflies hanging from the ceiling, all different colors. She squealed with excitement and opened her eyes wide, grabbing for the closest one.

Rafe set her in her highchair while you went around the kitchen counter with your phone for pictures. Layla exclaimed when she saw her breakfast waiting to be devoured. You snap a few photos while she eats breakfast, then Rafe and you get your plates.

The house is ready for friends and family to arrive. The party doesn't start until twelve thirty, giving everyone plenty of time to prepare.

In case guests wanted to take pictures, there was a picture curtain with the words "Happy Birthday Layla" above.

Friends and family began to arrive, each one bringing gifts for Layla. You greeted them at the door, hugging each person as they stepped inside. Their faces lighting up seeing Layla in her birthday outfit.

"Oh Layla you look so cute in your dress!" Your mom gasped in excitement seeing Layla in Rafe's arms waving at those who came in.

"Can you say thank you grandma?' You grin up at Layla who babbles.

Layla responds by babbling and hiding her face in Rafe's chest.

Layla wore a soft lavender tulle skirt with a bodice decorated with tiny pink butterflies. Her golden curls were gathered into two small pigtails, secured with matching butterfly clips. She looked like the cutest princess.

Half an hour into the party, pictures were taken, conversations, kids running around, etc. The Cameron household was busy to say the least.

You showed everyone where the food and beverages would be once they were ready to eat— fruits, desserts, sandwiches, barbecue, cupcakes, drinks, and more.

Sarah was leaning against the counter with a plate in her hand, nodding her head to the song playing from the tv. You grab a cupcake before joining her.

"This party is so cute, it screams Layla" Sarah states, regarding the decorations in the house. "The flowers are my favorite,"

"Aw, thank you, Sarah, and initially, when I was looking for decorations and saw the flowers, I knew I needed to get them!"

"On a real note and I'm sure you'll agree but Layla already being one is insane because it feels like she was just born" Sarah frowns, facial expression showing she's feeling a lot of emotions.

"I couldn't agree more— I cried last night before bed, and Rafe comforted me the whole night," you respond quietly.

It was time to start singing happy birthday as time went on. You sat Layla down in front of everyone in her high chair. She looked around waving with both hands with a smile. Rafe came around the corner with a small cake in his hand— Layla's eyes went wide.

"On three, we sing Miss Layla, happy birthday," you say enthusiastically, raising your right palm in the air.

As you both bent in to help Layla in blowing out the flame, Rafe stood next to you, his arm around your waist. Layla clapped her hands with joy as friends and family erupted in cheers and her face broke into the largest smile you've ever seen.

Opening presents was last to go. Layla's tiny hands grasp on each gift she received— curious whatever was in the bag or wrapped in paper. She got toys, clothes, and a few small things.

As the day drew to a close, friends and family began to leave with their children. Layla fell asleep in Rafe's arms in the backyard, sitting around the bonfire with your father, Ward, and friends.

Your mom, Rose, and you were sitting on the front porch swing having a simple conversation about motherhood. They each told you what motherhood taught them and the emotions you feel when it's your first borns birthday.

The smell of the fresh planted flowers, summer breeze hitting your skin, and the sun getting ready to set beautifully.

"I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a mother," you admitted after a time, your voice subdued. "There is so much joy, but also an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I just want to do the right thing for her, you know?

"You're doing an amazing job," Rose encouraged you, placing her hand lightly on your arm. "Motherhood has many obstacles, yet it is apparent how much you adore her. That's what counts the most."

Your mom nodded in agreement. "There isn't a perfect way to accomplish it, no manual or roadmap. You just have to believe in yourself and know that you are enough. "Layla is fortunate to have you."

You felt tears form at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. This conversation, on this particular day, exceeded your expectations. As you sat there, surrounded by women who had helped you through life and into motherhood, you felt overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Thank you for those kind words. I definitely needed to hear that, literally. Time just went by so fast in a blink of an eye" you sniffle while your mom and Rose rub your back.

It was officially the end of the night. The three of you were in your pajamas, ready for bed. The house had decorations up that will be up for another day or two. You held Layla in your arms—her head on your shoulder falling asleep.

You brought Layla upstairs, placing her in her crib and bringing the cover up to her chin. For a time, you simply stood there, watching her sleep, overcome with love for this tiny human who had altered your life in the most beautiful way.

Rafe threw his arm around you as you both stood there, and you knew that no matter how quickly time passed or how many birthdays came and went, the love you felt tonight would see you through it all. And when you turned off the light and closed the door, you couldn't help but grin, knowing that this was only the start of many more wonderful memories.

"Happy birthday, Layla."

my taglist!

@drewstarkeys-world @chenslucy @rosezza @rafeyslamb @starkeyvhs @diqldrunks @runningfrom2am

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years ago

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it’s all about you

summary: 4 times Jake thought about marrying you and the 1 time he did.

pairing: jake seresin x girlfriend!reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: allusions to smut throughout, mentions of alcohol, swearing, jake being whipped!! MDNI 18+

“Cookies or Brownies?” you hum, rifling through your kitchen cupboards.

“Cookies, we’re not monsters babe.” Jake replies seriously from where he’s stood behind you, checking out your ass.

You snap back up with a cheer and the brown sugar you were looking for in tow. Jake quickly diverts his gaze in favour of not getting caught and decides that your fridge magnets are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

His intense inspection of the little windmill stuck to your fridge has you snorting, quickly turned into a squeal when Jake pats your behind with a little more force than intended.

“Jake!”

“What?” He spins around as if to look for someone else who could have committed the offending action.

“You’re stupid.” You giggle, jutting your hip out to hit his own.

Jake reciprocates the action before finally picking up a wooden spoon and smacking it against his palm loudly.

“Where do you need me chef?”

“Fold the butter into the brown sugar,” you instruct, “softly.”

Jake rolls his eyes purposefully obnoxiously and sighs loudly, “I know.”

“Don’t make me remind you of cupcake gate.”

Jake’s attitude drops, “we agreed not to bring that up.”

“I play petty Seresin, now fold. Gently.” You sass.

Jake chuckles at your demeanour and gets to work, following your orders to complete the cookie dough.

Once complete and set to chill in the freezer, Jake goes to leave the kitchen but instead watches on in amusement as you pace around anxiously. After your third rearrangement of the trinkets on the window sill he interrupts.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

You sigh dramatically and throw yourself into his arms.

“I’m nervous.”

Jake snorts, “why?”

You pull back from where you face was smushed into his chest and pout, “don’t be mean. I’m scared they won’t like my cookies. Or me, for that matter.”

Jake’s thumb strokes absentmindedly over your cheek in an act of comfort.

“All kids like cookies. Fact.” He states, “and they’re gonna love you because they love me and I love you.”

“I don’t want to be their uncle Jake’s lame girlfriend who makes bad cookies.” You bite at your pushed out lip.

“You won’t be, now let’s bake these suckers.”

Jake pats your ass playfully as you bend down to retrieve the cookie dough.

“Put the oven on.” You order.

Jake mock salutes, “yes, chef.”

You run through about ten outfits before finally settling on what to wear, and as you brush through your hair once more, the doorbell goes.

You can hear Jake and his sister talking downstairs as well as the excited giggles of his nieces. When you finally descend the stairs Jake’s sister is smiling up at you.

“It’s great to see you again!” She gives you a one armed hug, the other holding the girls backpacks.

“You too!” You look down to where the girls are holding on to each of Jake’s hands, “and it’s great to meet you girls!”

The younger of the two immediately leaps forward and grabs onto your hand, “I’m Ellie, you’re pretty,” she singsongs.

You bend down and wipe at a smudge on her face, “Not as pretty as you!”

Ellie giggles determinedly and turns back to her mom to smile.

“Ellie, Olive, be good okay?” Jake’s sister nods her head to the two girls before looking back up to the two of you, “and thank you for looking after them on such short notice.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “you know it’s fine, now go have fun.”

“Thank you!” She smiles before kissing the girls on the heads and making her exit.

You look back down to the girls, Ellie is still clinging onto your hand with a smitten look on her face. Her golden curls are kept in two pigtails with small scrunchies. She’s adorable and can’t be older than 5.

When you avert your gaze to Olive, she seems to blush slightly. She is partially hidden by Jake’s large frame but you can still make out her blue eyes and long, mousy brown hair. She looks much older than Ellie, probably about 9 or 10. Much more reserved as well.

“It’s nice to meet you Olive!” You beam.

She nods in your direction, “hi.” It’s almost a whisper but you smile in acknowledgement anyways.

“Jakey I’m hungryyyyy,” Ellie drags out the “e” sound of her Y.

“Well that won’t do will it, Ellie bellie?” Jake teases, dropping Olive’s hand in favour of scooping Ellie up into his arms.

Olive chuckles awkwardly at the commotion and fiddles with the straps of her bag as Jake carries Ellie towards the kitchen where the cookies are almost finished. You can sense a small amount of anxiety radiating off of her, you were similar at that age. Never quite feeling in place. It suddenly becomes your duty to make sure she understands it’s okay.

“I love your hair, it’s so long!” You smile comfortingly at her, reaching out to fiddle with the ends.

She leans more into your touch and speaks quietly, “thank you, I- sometimes I think it’s kind of boring.” She shrugs.

“It’s really beautiful! I wish I could grow my hair that long,” you hum, inspecting the completely undamaged strands of hair.

Olive smiles up at you, “I just wish I could do more hairstyles with it.”

“I could braid it for you? If you would like that of course?”

“I would really like that,” Olive nods.

She lets you lead her upstairs where you sit her in front of your vanity with all your hair and makeup products. You watch fondly as she “oohs” and “ahhs” at the products on display.

“Tell me if I hurt you at all okay?” You question as you brush out her mostly untangled hair.

Olive nods in understanding, “can you do two french braids?”

“Of course!”

You sit in silence for a few moments as you brush and part her hair. You can feel her gaze on you from the mirror.

“You okay?” You hum.

“You’re really pretty, y’know? Way more than Uncle Jake.”

Her words make you giggle, “Your Uncle Jake is very handsome, why else would I be with him?” you tease.

She snorts, “I figured it wasn’t because he was clever.”

You try not to laugh too loud at her quip and bite your lip, “he has his moments.”

Olive rolls her eyes and mumbles “sure” and once calmed from your laughter you’re able to start on the first of the braids and talk to her more.

“How’s school?” You question absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” she answers. Olive opens her mouth again as if to say something else, before closing it again.

“You can tell me,” you affirm.

“Promise you won’t tell Uncle Jake?” She asks.

“Pinky.”

She quickly intertwines her little finger with yours before beginning.

“There’s this boy,” she blushes as she sees a grin spread across your face, “he sits next to me when we do science, and he’s really cute.”

“What’s his name?” You ask, trying to keep your face neutral.

“Trey. But I don’t even think he knows my name.” She sighs.

“I’m sure he does, Olive, especially if he sits next to you.” You reassure her.

“I mean he only really talks to me to ask for help, but one time he told me he really liked my shoes.” She gushes.

“That’s a good sign Olive,” you confirm, “if a boy likes you he’ll make sure to compliment you, don’t settle for a boy who doesn’t make you feel special, promise me?”

Olive nods diligently, “promise.”

You make a little “aha” noise as you finish with the first braid and begin to move onto the second.

“Did Uncle Jake do that?” She ponders.

“Hmm?”

“Make you feel special?”

You nod your head as your fingers move nimbly through her hair, “he asked me out five times before I said yes.” you giggle in remembrance.

“Five?” Olive chuckles.

You’re not quite sure how to explain to Jake’s niece that you thought he was something of the manwhore before he finally professed his feelings for you.

“I wanted to know that he was committed,” you decide on.

“Uncle Jake really loves you. I heard him on the phone to my mom yesterday and-”

“Stop spilling all my secrets would ya?” Jake quickly interrupts, butting the door open with his foot.

Ellie is propped on his right side holding a plate of what you can assume are your cookies. She and Jake had long gone through the sheets of her My Little Pony colouring book and had decided to come find the two of you and share the cookies that were quickly depleting.

Olive giggles, “sorry Uncle Jake.”

“It’s okay kid,” he grins and plops Ellie down on your bed before coming to stand behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pecks you on the lips quickly.

Olive and Ellie both pull faces and Jake laughs, “I thought that’s what you wanted to do to Trey, Ollie?”

Olive gasps, “how do you know? And no I do not!”

Jake taps the side of his nose teasingly. You roll your eyes and quickly finish off her braid, flipping them over her shoulders.

“Done.” You pat her head and hope her anger will diffuse.

“Thank you,” she smiles brightly at you, but returns to shooting daggers at Jake just shortly after.

“Cookies?” He offers up as a peace offering.

Olive still keeps up her impressive pout.

“I made them babe don’t worry,” you provide.

“Well in that case,” Olive reaches for a cookie and takes a hefty bite, her eyes widen considerably, “these are so good!”

“Thank you!” You smile, brushing at the crumbs that had accumulated on her cheeks.

“These are the best cookies ever!” Ellie proclaims from where she is now chowing down on another cookie.

“Hey! I thought we said no more?” Jake frowns in faux anger, plopping down on the bed next to Ellie.

“You said that, not me!” Ellie giggles.

“You got me there, bellie.” Jake sighs in defeat.

Ellie throws herself into Jake’s arms and gives her best puppy dog eyes.

“Can we watch a movie?” She pleads.

“You wanna watch a movie, kid?” Jake pokes Olive.

Olive looks to you and you smile, “Yeah,” she nods.

An hour later, you’re all squished onto the couch watching Frozen. Ellie is long past waking up and is spread out across the “L” part of the couch snoring quietly.

You’re tucked into Jake’s side and he’s fiddling with your hand, he hasn’t been watching the screen at all. Instead, watching your features and the way Olive will point out her favourite parts and songs to you. He particularly enjoys her version of “fixer upper” which he presumed might be dedicated to him. He enjoys even more so when by the time the film ends the way that Olive is dozing off on your shoulder and the way you’re stroking softly at her arm.

“They love you,” he coos into your ear.

“I’m glad,” you hum, “I really love them.”

“Olive is never like that with anyone, she’s usually so shy.” Jake explains, placing a kiss at your temple and then tucking your head under his chin.

“I was like that too when I was her age.” You murmur as to not wake the girls, “I hope she knows how special she is.”

“You’re gonna be such a good mom someday,” he whispers down at you.

“I hope so.”

Jake had been waiting for what felt like hours. It was five minutes really. But when you had told him to go wait in the car he had expected you to be out much sooner than you were. And when you finally sat down next to him, he wasn’t all too pleased.

“Let’s go.” You hum, pulling down the mirror to apply a final layer of lip gloss.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah, why?” You turn, a crease forming in your brow.

Jake winces, unsure of whether to continue, “your skirt, it’s really short.”

“I guess so.” You deadpan.

A beat passes.

“Are you going to cover up?”

Jake watches as your face drops.

“Why would I do that?” You reply snappily.

Jake sighs and begins to pull his car out of the driveway.

“Because I don’t want random guys hitting on you all night.”

“How is that my problem?” You retort, anger bubbling up.

“I just don’t want them getting wrong ideas about you, that’s all.” Jake tries to reason.

“And what would those ideas be, Jake?”

Jake can sense your rising anger. He doesn’t want to be in an argument with you by the time you reach the Hard Deck. That leaves him approximately four minutes to diffuse the situation he has caused.

“Just forget I said anything, it’s fine.” Jake dismisses.

“No, I want to know what you mean.” You assert, arms coming up to cross over your chest.

“Can we just drop it?” Jake sighs after a moment, “I don’t want to fight in front of everyone.”

“We wouldn’t have to fight if you weren’t being a dick!”

Jake rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify you with a response, angering you even further. When he finally pulls into a spot outside of the Hard Deck you turn to him and flick at his shirt that can’t have more than two buttons done up.

“You gonna do that up sweetheart? Touch revealing don’t ya think?” You spit snarkily.

With that you slam the door to the car and make your way inside without looking back. Jake watches as you beeline for Natasha and rolls his eyes when she shoots him a dirty look. It was only more ammunition for her general distaste of him.

It goes like that for the rest of the night. You avoid Jake like the plague, sticking to Nat’s side mostly near the bar top. Although, you always stay within Jake’s line of sight which is heartening for him.

Bradley seems to find the ordeal hilarious.

“What did you do to piss her off this time?” He taunts.

Jake grunts. “I told her that her skirt was too short and that she needed to change.”

Bradley’s eyes widen, “bagman even I know you’re not supposed to say shit like that.”

“Yeah, well I know that now!” Jake spits.

“Hey don’t shoot the messenger,” Bradley rolls his eyes, “just go say sorry.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She called me a dick.” Jake huffs.

“She’s not wrong,” Bradley offers.

Jake stays silent.

“You’re so petty.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Bradley and Jake stare at one another for a moment.

“Yeah, okay maybe,” Jake relents.

He sighs and averts his gaze back where you’re sat with Nat. You’re laughing so hard at something she’s said that you’re doubled over. You really did look beautiful, and Jake hadn’t even told you because he was too worried he was gonna get jealous and be a dick. Yet he still managed to do the last part.

“I hate when you’re right,” Jake admits, handing his beer over to Bradley.

Jake begins to make his way over to you, he’s going to apologise. However, he did not account for what was going to be quite the persistent obstacle.

“Hey,” a voice blurts from in front of him.

Jake catches sight of the owner of the voice, she’s tall and just a touch too blonde to be believable. She’s pretty, sure. But not you.

“Hey,” Jake replies absentmindedly, trying to make his way around her.

She steps in front of him again, blocking you from his view and tries to start up a new conversation.

“I’m Kendra, and you are?” She smiles in what Jake supposes was seduction.

Right now all he’s really trying to figure out is if your still at the bar or not.

“Jake.” He replies, hoping it will satiate her enough to move.

“Well Jake, it is great to meet you,” Kendra hums, sticking out her hand for Jake to shake.

Jake shakes it swiftly and goes to retract his hand, Kendra keeps it in her own grasp and plays with his fingers, keeping an awkward amount of eye contact with him.

“Look Kendra, I’m sure you’re a great girl but my-”

“I love your shirt!” She interrupts, “would probably love what’s underneath more.”

Jake cringes at her line and at the way her hand is now currently moving towards the excessive amount of chest exposed by his lowly buttons. Before she can reach skin, her hand is smacked away by red polished nails that Jake would recognise anywhere.

“Hey baby,” you whisper, before throwing your arms around Jake’s neck and smashing your lips into his.

Jake is all too quick to reciprocate, letting his hands fall to your ass only just covered by the tiny skirt that Jake has suddenly taken a distinct liking to. You pull back only to catch your breath, but instead catch sight of the seething blonde still stood uncomfortably close.

“We were talking!” She insists.

“He’s busy,” you cock your head to the side in faux apology, “sorry.”

She huffs and mumbles “crazy bitch” as she storms off, you pout to try and hold in your giggles. When you turn back to Jake, it proves useless trying to hold them in when you catch sight of his mouth smothered in your pink lipgloss.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake breathes out.

“I’m still mad at you,” you tease.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m a jealous dick, you just look so fucking good I didn’t want anyone else to see you.” Jake explains, hands caressing at the skin at the tops of your thighs.

You snort, “I think I’m the jealous one,”

“Good, I like a change of pace sometimes,” Jake pinches softly at your skin and lets a smile grace his feature at the way you squeak.

“Should we get out of here?” You whisper, hand trailing down Jake’s chest to where his hand is resting on you.

You guide his hand underneath your skirt slowly until Jake realises the lack of barrier between his hand and your cunt.

“Fuck, baby.” Jake hums practically into your mouth from how closely you two are stood.

You step away from him swiftly and bring his hand back into yours, pulling him towards the parking lot. Jake could cry from happiness.

“If this is stupid you can just tell me, okay?” You ask from where you’re stood in front of a blindfolded Jake.

It’s his birthday today and you told him you had a surprise. He figured it would be a party, which he was thankful for but he couldn’t understand the point of the blindfold.

“Okay you can take it off now.” You instruct.

Jake all but rips the blindfold off and looks down at you to take in your attire.

“Jesus, baby.”

“Do you like it?” You question, giving him a little spin.

Jake’s mouth is agape as he watches the way you twirl, clad in the tiniest daisy dukes he thinks he’s ever seen and what can only be his flannel. The cream of your cowboy boots are subtle and suit you well.

“Like it?” Jake steps forward and shoves his hands into the small back pockets of your shorts, “I fuckin’ love it.”

Behind you, Jake can see his Stetson placed on the table, and behind that he can see into the garden where all of his friends are already drinking and chatting.

“You set this up, baby?” He nods to the glass doors.

“I had some help,” you shrug, finally moving out of his grip to grab his hat.

Jake extends his hand out for you to pass it to him, but is pleasantly surprised when you place it on your own head. He opens his mouth to speak, but your catch him before he can with a wink,

“I know the rule, cowboy.” You tease, placing your hand on his chest. “Consider it a birthday gift.”

Jake holds back a groan as you drag him outside to where he’s greeted by a chorus of “happy birthday”s and various other jokes about him getting old. It sort of shocks Jake at the amount of people there to celebrate, and he has to hold in a chuckle as he sees a number of your friends already beelining for the group of pilots nursing beers on the decking.

Bradley is quick to find Jake as the party gets into full swing, people chatting and music playing throughout the yard.

“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Bradley chuckles slapping Jake on the shoulder.

Jake has been staring at you for the last 10 minutes as you twirl around with Phoenix to the varied 2000s songs that have been on loop for most of the evening.

“Don’t I know it,” Jake boasts, clinking his beer bottle against Bradley’s.

You can feel a gaze on your back as you grind onto Phoenix whilst Nelly Furtado plays, not to your shock it’s Jake, head cocked to the side with a lazy smirk on his face whilst practically ignoring everything Bradley is saying to him. You can only giggle as Phoenix makes a teasing remark about him being whipped. She wasn’t wrong.

You make you way towards the boys slowly, smiling as you catch the end of their conversation.

“Whatcha talking about?” You goad, as Jake pulls you back against his chest already.

“You.” Bradley answers truthfully.

“All bad I suppose?” You bait.

“Oh the worst,” Jake fills in, pinching at the meat of your thigh playfully.

Deciding not to prod further, you turn in Jake’s grip to face him and plant a sloppy kiss on his face. It makes Jake laugh and Bradley mock gag, rolling his eyes and making his way towards Phoenix. Jake captures your lips with his a few more times, hands wandering dangerously low towards your ass before you pull away with a wink, and also slight fear of traumatising your guests.

“Patience is a virtue,” you remind Jake, he simply groans in response.

The rest of the night goes as such, Jake gets cornered into conversations, his eyes wander to you, you tease him some way or the other, Jake is left half hard whilst talking to an admiral. It’s uncomfortably delicious and Jake cannot wait for his last birthday gift.

At 1:30 AM, the only stragglers left are the dagger squad, drunkenly swaying around Jake’s backyard and singing horrific variations of “Slow Ride” to annoy him. It doesn’t even work, because Jake knows he has something so sweet waiting for him. However, his patience is wearing thin and considering these are the people closest to him, he has no qualms with speaking his mind.

“Alright, y’all time to get going,” he announces, herding everyone out.

Bob had been kind enough to offer to drive everyone home, and Jake was keen to take him up on it, helping Bob strap in their drunk friends with alarming efficiency.

“Hey! What’s the rush birthday boy?” Javy slurs as Jake buckles his seatbelt.

“He wants birthday sex!” Nat whisper shouts into Javy’s ear, with emphasis on the shout.

The truck erupts in whoops and crude hollers towards Jake and only Bob can offer him an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” Jake pats Bob on the back.

“You too.” Bob replies with a laugh, eyes glancing quickly to where you’re stood on the porch, hip popped out against one of the wooden beams.

Jake all but sprints back to you, hauling you up into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You move to place his stetson on his own head, but Jake stops you.

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you ride the cowboy, you gotta wear the hat.” He smirks, kicking the front door shut behind him.

“Seems fair.” You hum after a moment.

And when Jake walks into the changing rooms on Monday morning, taking off his shirt to reveal hideous claw marks down his back. No one bats an eye.

Jake had experienced what one could only describe as a clusterfuck of a day.

To start off the day, his alarm hadn’t gone off, meaning he had to sprint to his car and run a red light on the way to work. What was worse than the impending ticket that he was going to receive was the fact that he hadn’t even been able to kiss you goodbye like he does every morning.

It set him up badly. Jake Seresin was never one for superstitions but you were clearly his lucky charm. Proved so even further by the way his concentration was lacking in the flight simulations he was running. Then when they were up in the air, Jake was missing every opportunity to shoot down Maverick, messing up every manoeuvre and just generally souring his already damp mood.

To top it all off, the pièce de résistance, when Jake finally made it back to the changing rooms, itching to change out of his sweaty flight suit. His bag was sat open, clothes sopping wet whilst two of the newbies stood guiltily next to a broken shower head.

He almost blew his lid. Almost. But then he pictured getting back to you, falling into your arms after this tragic day and finally being able to relax. So for once, Jake decided to keep his mouth shut. He picked up his sopping bag and silently stalked out of the room.

When Jake reached his truck and listened to the way his bag squelched as he set it down, he held in another groan of frustration. The sun was still beating down and his sweaty flight suit was clinging to him in all the wrong places. Deep breath in, clench the steering wheel too hard, deep breath out. It was a 15 minute drive. He could do that for God’s sake.

Jake’s 15 minute drive quickly became a 45 minute one when he found out the road he was supposed to be taking was closed due to a burst pipe. The sky was a dusky purple as he finally pulled up outside your house. Jake can see that the light is on in the kitchen as well as your figure moving around languidly.

Jake slams the car door probably too loudly and rushes to the door. When he opens it, Jake is greeted with the loud sounds of your 90s playlist blasting throughout the house, he can hear you voice - although somewhat out of tune - belting along as well.

It makes him smile, for the first time on that horrid day. Jake’s bag of damp clothes are forgotten by the door as he quickly shucks himself of his boots and makes his way towards the kitchen. He opens the door to the sight of you wiggling your hips to Santana whilst holding a spatula and pushing around some type of stir fry.

You continue your movements, but turn at the sound of someone entering, a large smile gracing your face once you realise who it is.

“Hey, handsome,” you preen, dancing your way towards him.

Jake can’t help but chuckle at you movements, but he quickly falls limp once your wrap your arms around his neck. His large arms wrap around your waist tightly, engulfing you in him. You take note of Jake’s subdued demeanour, and raise one of your hands to scratch at the hair at his neck just like you know he loves.

“You okay, babe?” you hum, swaying him slightly.

“Shit day,” he groans out, leaning further into your touch.

“You wanna talk about it?” You continue your ministrations.

“Later.” He huffs, “Just wanna be with you.”

Jake’s sweet words make you melt into him further, burying your face into his chest. The arms of his flight suit were tied around his waist, only his tight black undershirt covering the expanse of his chest. He smelt like a combination of jet fuel, sweat and his cologne that he’d hurriedly sprayed in the morning. It should probably be off putting but it was so undeniably Jake that it was addictive. You inhale again as you place a chaste kiss against his pec.

“Are you sniffing me?” Jake chuckles.

“You smell so good,” you can only groan out, smushing your face into him again.

Jake leans back and takes your face in his hands,

“I’ve not even showered, I stink,” he chuckles incredulously.

“You still smell so good,” you whine, lips forming a pout.

“That means we’re meant to be or something, my pheromones get you going huh?” Jake teases.

“Never say pheromones again,” you roll your eyes and wiggle out of his grip to lower the heat under the pan you were searing the food in.

Jake follows you diligently, arms wrapping around your waist so he can cling to you as you move about the kitchen. Once bored of your movements, Jake swiftly lifts you up to sit at the counter top.

“Jake!” You swat at his chest, “we need to plate up the food,” you remind him.

“It can wait,” he decides, leaning in to connect his lips to yours.

It’s what he’d been waiting for all day. The pillow of your lips on his, the way you melt into his touch. One strong hand caressing the side of your face and the other gripping at your hip. You rest one hand on his chest, the other at the back of his neck, guiding his face to yours over and over again. Jake feels like a teenager again, making out with his girlfriend on the kitchen counter top. Except his 16 year old self would probably lose his mind trying to figure out how he ended up with someone like you.

Once you’d let Jake’s tongue explore your mouth in a kiss that had lasted far too long, you finally pull back to catch your breath.

“You want food?” you question with a smile.

“Please,” Jake hums as you hop off the counter. He smacks at your ass you walk away from him, “I’m starving.”

You roll your eyes fondly, and get to plating up the food. Jake isn’t too keen on letting you out of his grip, so you sit in his lap as you eat, feeding him and yourself at the same time. It’s nice, his strong grip is comforting and Jake appreciates how eager you are to listen to his rant about his shitty day.

“I was missing you all day, baby,” Jake murmurs, kissing at the side of your neck.

“I always miss you, Jake,” you smile earnestly, “now go shower and I’ll wash the plates.”

Jake allows you out of his grip so you can stand and move back around the kitchen, he shadows you once again, moving in tandem with his hands never leaving you.

“I thought you were going to shower?” You question, placing the last dish in the dishwasher.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he whines.

You sigh, holding in your smirk as you turn to face him. “You wanna shower together?”

Jake has never looked so giddy as he practically races up the stairs, shirt flying off as he climbs the steps.

“You’re insatiable!” You yell after him.

“Only for you!” He yells in return.

“I’ve thought a lot about what I could say right now,” Jake clears his throat.

He’s not nervous. In fact he doesn’t think anything has ever been so clear in his mind.

“I think usually when people do these things they tell memories or defining moments about their relationship, but the truth is. Every goddamn moment since I met you, I knew this was the only possible outcome.”

Jake looks down to where your sat with your shared friends and family, you look like a dream really. He’d been antsy about not seeing your dress, but now he was glad he’d waited.

“Y’know she turned me down five times before finally agreeing to go out with me?” Jake chuckles into the mic he’s holding.

Laughter rings out through the guests but Jake’s gaze never wavers from you. You’re rolling your eyes at him with a smile on your face, letting out a giggle as Jake’s mom squeezes your hand.

“I don’t blame her, I was kind of a mess. I’d just been stationed back here on North Island, and Javy was my only friend because I was a dick.”

The dagger squad, raise their glasses in a cheers to Jake’s statement, cracking the room up again.

“I never thought Rooster would be sat at my table at my wedding, I’ll admit that.” Jake laughs out.

Bradley in return whoops and raises a hand in salute to Jake.

“He’s single by the way ladies,” Jake winks to your elderly grandmother.

“Anyways, as I was saying, total dick, with a lacking moral compass and even more so in my emotions. I was kind of betting on getting the mission done and going back to wherever the hell I was stationed and moving on. Then I ended up pissing off the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen by pouring a drink down her shirt, and she chewed me out worse than any admiral I’d ever crossed.”

“It was expensive!” You quickly yell out in defence.

“As you can see, I’m still making up for it,” Jake teases, “but from that moment onwards I realised I needed to get my act together. My pea brain was shocked that a woman would cuss me out like that, and I immediately fell in love with her. Which probably makes me sound crazy but seriously, being around you for five minutes makes you want to be a better person, and being around you for this long has made me a better man.”

Jake’s smile can only widen when your glossy eyes meet his, “Rooster once told me I was a lucky son of a bitch to have you, and as annoyingly as always. He was right. I don’t know how or why you agreed to be my girlfriend, and it’s a godsent miracle that I get to call you my wife. You’re the best person in every room - sorry everyone - and the most beautiful person always. I love you, which you already know, but I just wanted to say it again,” Jake exhales.

Jake raises his glass in a final toast, “to my beautiful wife, the new Mrs Seresin.”

Glasses clink around the room and Jake almost misses you beelining for him throughout all the commotion. Your arms wrap swiftly around his neck, pulling his lips against yours. You kiss him softly, before pulling back to whisper to him,

“You know I love you so fucking much right?”

“Of course I do, baby,” Jake hums.

“You’re the best man I know,” you smile, leaning in to his lips again.

Jake dips you as you kiss, feeding off of the theatrics as people holler. People are standing and moving towards the dance floor as he brings you back up, forehead pressed against your own.

“Do you know how hot it is that you’re my wife?” He smirks.

“Mrs Seresin does have a nice ring to it,” you decide.

“The best, actually,” Jake replies, as he’s dragged towards the dance floor by Javy.

a/n: jake is so husband coded it’s not even funny,,, like THAT IS MY MAN!!!!

@roosterforme ages ago we were talking and you asked me to tag you when i posted my jake fic, sorry it’s been eons hehe i hope you enjoy!!

pls comment, reblog, or send me an ask and tell me what you think!!

thank you for reading :))

- honey <333

6K notes · View notes

kaybreezy3000 · 3 months ago

Text

A steaming hot and humorous deli Five story, and An Ode To All The Fives We’ve Loved Before.

Written by: @badkitty3000 and @kaybreezy3000

(Rated Mature for Sexually Explicit Content, 6976 words)

Note: All six reader inserts in this one were inspired by characters we wrote in our other stories about Five. But if you haven't read any of these stories, you can still easily enjoy this one. If you find that you want a little more of Five and any one of these lovelies, links will be provided at the end.

Heading across the subway platform towards the deli, Five heard the shrill squeal of a train coming into the station. Thinking it was going to be another version of himself showing up, he slowed his step, letting out a tired sigh. “Here we go again.”

Even before the train was fully stopped, he realized this wasn’t going to be one of his normally depressing encounters. There were six females inside one of the cars, all of them anxiously looking back at him standing under the warmth of the delicatessen's incandescent lights.

He was dumbstruck. There had never been anyone else besides himself on a train before.

His breath caught as the doors began to slide open.

“No way…” he gasped, looking at the girl in front who had a baseball bat slung over her shoulders, her body poised for a fight.

“Five!” she shrieked as she pushed the doors open, kicking one of them aside faster with the heel of one of her checkered patterned boots. Dashing towards him, her wooden bat fell to the ground with a resounding thunk as she threw herself into his waiting arms.

Just then, a loud bark echoed through the subway. Bursting out from between the other girls’ legs, a golden-haired dog bee-lined it for the door of the deli, just as another stunned Five threw it open. A fraction of a second later, that Five was stumbling backwards, getting knocked down by the wild beast. “I missed you too, buddy,” he laughed through his tears as his furry friend affectionately slobbered him.

Next to them, pink and blue pigtails swayed as the first Five lifted the girl in his arms, kissing her anywhere he could plant his lips. Loving it, her smile got bigger and bigger the more frantic he got, and she started giggling even more about it when she looked down at the pair on the ground. “I guess it was easy enough for Mr. Pennycrumb to figure out which one of you was his master. Just look at him…he’s so happy he and his daddy finally get to go home.”

“Home?” the deli’s Greeter Five questioned, sounding heartbreakingly confused as the rest of the girls on the train came past, worriedly making their way towards the welcoming lights of the restaurant, all of them hoping their Fives were there too.

Inside, Five was behind the counter, doing his usual inventory of ingredients for his famous pastrami sandwich when he looked up to see the most beautiful sight he’d seen in a very long time. He could hardly believe his eyes and it took him a few seconds to realize she was real.

Skidding around the corner from the kitchen while trying to hide the tears in his eyes, he grabbed his wife around her waist, reeling her in. With hands on each side of her face, he kissed her so desperately that he forgot to breathe. Finally, he pulled away, smiling lovingly as she started to cry.

“I can’t believe it’s really you. I’ve missed you so much, my love,” he choked out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “What are you doing here? When I ended up here, I thought I’d lost you and our entire world because our timeline was destroyed.”

“I missed you, too,” she breathlessly replied. “Things were a little all over the place with the timeline problem thing, but it’s okay now. We’re here to bring you home. I didn’t know there was an entire restaurant filled with you when I set out, but the girls and I ended up on the train together and it quickly became clear we were all in the same boat, and all of you were too. As crazy as all that is, when we realized where you all ended up, it was still a little surprising to say the least.”

“How did you even find this place? The odds of coming across it are astronomical.”

His wife rolled her eyes. “Really, Five? There’s like twenty of you here and not one of you can read a goddamn map? Together, the girls and I figured it out in about fifteen minutes.”

“Oh…” Five muttered.

She smiled and kissed his pouty face, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. “Well, it’s a good thing for you, and all these other boys, that before you got stuck here, you stole the hearts of the smartest, most badass women around because we’re here to save all your asses.” She looked around at all the Fives that looked like they were either about to have a breakdown or were in the middle of one. “And just in the knick of time, it seems,” she added.

While being devoured by the Five that had been previously pouring coffee, his girlfriend stopped him mid-kiss to say, “Hold on… you guys are stuck here because you don’t know how to read a map?”

“We know how to read maps,” her Five scoffed back. “We just don’t know how to read this particular map.”

With his head down as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, another Five came in carrying a bin of clean dishes. Irritated that nobody was helping him he said, “You don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground, Waiter Five, and hey Brisket, you may be a worthless genius like the rest of us, but you’re letting the sandwiches burn!”

“I don’t give a fuck about the sandwiches, you moron,” Brisket Five snapped back.

Brisket’s wife quirked a brow. “Brisket?” she questioned, letting his strange nickname roll off her tongue with seductive playfulness, only then just realizing her husband was wearing a chef’s apron.

“Are you surprised? You know I’m the king of the kitchen,” he said, giving her a cocky smirk.

Hearing the allure of the feminine voice questioning Brisket Five, the distracted bus-boy finally looked up, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“HOLY SHIT!” he gasped as the tub of plates in his hands hit the floor. Moving almost as fast as if he’d blinked, he leapt over the booth between him and the luminously pale girl that was grinning at him with two shiny tips of sharp white studding into her lower lip.

“Hey there, you little horny devil,” the cheeky looking vampire girl snickered as he slid up to her, his boyish mess of dark hair all over the place as his entire body shook like a leaf with excitement. “Five, sweetie, there’s so many of you here…”

Looking over at the lonely looking Five in the corner booth with his mannequin, the vampire’s fang descended a little more.

“Awww,” she cooed as she looked back at her own Five. “He’s so cute. He’s just like you were. Can I maybe have a little nibble on him, honey?”

“Hell no. I am the only abomination you get to suck on,” Bus-Boy Five dreamily replied, his soft green eyes luring her right back.

Interrupting their reunions, and their conversation about the map, the bathroom door flung open, and another Five carrying a mop came out, immediately directing his shock at the girl the Waiter Five was once again doing his best to suffocate with kisses. “Hey!” he yelled. “Are you that chick who used to fuck Klaus?

Tossing his mop in the supply closet, the Janitor Five moved in closer, plopping his butt down on the tabletop next to a Five who was sitting there, contemplatively shuffling a deck of cards as he watched the bizarre scene unfolding.

At the mention of Klaus, Waiter Five gave his girl one more peck, then a sly grin as he said, “Those guys don’t know the whole story. All they need to know is that the Hargreeves with the best dick won. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The girl that ironically used to own a coffee house shook her head at her now-waiter boyfriend as she stretched up, planting a big kiss on his lips. “You could say that. Or, more accurately, I won. I’ve been missing a lot of things about you, including your dick,” she teased while pulling him by the belt loops until their hips were flush.

A few feet away, a shapely woman with jet-black hair slid into a booth. The bells on her red headband rung cheerfully as her bottom bounced on the vinyl seat. The familiar sound made the slumped down man that was sitting there lift his head.

“Oh, Five…what did you do?” she soothed as she snuggled up next to him while placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

He looked over, eyeing her up and down with a foggy expression before the light suddenly went on. His face immediately relaxed with relief. “Oh my god…it’s you! How are you here? Fuck. Did I die and go to heaven?”

She shook her head, the same chipper smile on her face, just like always. Leaning in to give him a tender kiss, Drunk Five’s angelic girlfriend placed a warm hand on his thigh. “I will explain all of that later. Right now I think we need to get you sobered up.”

Her Five nodded slowly, his eyes becoming misty. “I’m sorry, I went a little crazy with the booze again,” he admitted, gesturing to the bottle on the table. “I’ve been a mess since I lost you.” His gaze drifted downward to her low-cut top and the perfect tits that were spilling out. “Damn, I missed you.”

Leaning in, his lips tickling the shell of his girlfriend’s ear, Waiter Five whispered, “I’m not sure how fucked-up Drunk Five got a nice girl like that.”

Looping her arms around his waist she smiled. “Because she’s an actual angel,” she replied. “Like from heaven. They had a real life Christmas Carol situation and that’s what helped him finally get his shit together.”

“Huh,” Waiter Five hummed before he started kissing her again, already not caring about the other alcoholic version of him’s issues.

As Greeter Five came inside, joining the group, one of the Fives nearest the door swooped in, taking the hand of the girl next to him, gently kissing it.

Instantly overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture, as well as the sight of all the other Fives, she turned to her Five, mouth agape. “Wow… I thought you had some kinky things going on inside your brain, but compared to you…” She started to crack-up. “He was just thinking about eating pastrami off my ass!”

Looking beyond flustered by her calling him out, the other Five quickly backed away, stammering, “Wh-what is she, a mind reader?”

Positioning himself in front of her, Greeter Five’s already menacing expression turned even more threatening. “Yeah, dumbass, she is and she can alter your emotions, so I’d watch out if I were you or you might find yourself falling in love with a jar of sauerkraut. And you won't be eating pastrami or anything else off her ass as long as I’m here, so fuck off unless you’d like an acid burned dick and that spatula over there shoved up your ass.”

“You know that’s not how my powers work,” the petite blonde corrected as her hands slid around the Greeter Five’s trim waist. Clearly already aware of that, and enjoying her magical touch way too much, his grin grew and he started to lower his mouth to hers again.

Seeing that he was out of his element, and not about to win this one, the food fetish Five bolted out the door, prompting Janitor Five to stroll over, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Since you are the biggest nut job in here, it makes sense you’d be dating a sexy Harley Quinn look alike,” he said, distracting the couple.

“I mean no offense, sweetheart,” Janitor Five continued while suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at Greeter Five’s girl.

She smiled.

“I think you’re hot,” he added as his cool green eyes sparkled triumphantly. “Just so you know, I am way less of a headcase than him, and I am not at all scared of letting you play around inside my head, or my pants.”

“Fuck you!” Greeter Five growled.“Keep your grimy toilet cleaning hands off of her, shithead! She’s my wife!”

“Woah, settle down there, ‘Mr. I started The Commission But Got Downgraded To The Doorman At A Deli.’ I am just trying to point out that I am a much lesser dipshit than you, and let the lady here know that you are not her only option when it comes to better Fives.”

“For fucks sake! We all know that I am the best Five in here!” Greeter Five loudly yelled back, as he lunged at him.

Catching her husband by the coat tails, the comic book character look alike’s fingers brushed against his lower back. The fight almost instantly forgotten, Greeter Five turned and lowered his forehead to hers, and within seconds, she had his mind and body coming back down to a much less murderous state of arousal, but it was already too late. That arrogant outburst started all the other Fives bickering and glaring at each other, sizing each other up even though they were all the exact same size.

No longer involved in the hostilities because he was caught in his wife’s euphoric spell, Greeter Five scooped her up, pinning her against the window next to the entryway.

“I wish I could kill all these pathetic bastards,” he breathed as he nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck.

“No you don’t. You’re a good man, Five,” she corrected.

Happily mind fucked and once again paying no attention to anything else other than the piece of ass he had in his hands, Greeter Five crushed his lips against his wife’s, inadvertently sliding her back along the window glass until they rammed into another three-peice suit wearing Five that had been standing near the door since his girlfriend had come in and claimed him.

That Five had been basking in the pleasure of having his shaggy hair played with while the woman in front of him teased her hands down the front of his pants. Not happy with the Greeter Five for interrupting them, he angrily moved away from him, barking, “Get a room, asshole!”

Greeter Five snickered. “Why?” he questioned through the fringe of his hair as he grinned at the other Five. “I don’t care if you fuckers watch.”

Ready to own that, he shamelessly started rutting the prominent bulge in his pants into his giggling telepath.

Seeing and hearing all this madness, Brisket Five’s wife started to get a wild gleam in her eye as a million kinky thoughts about the vast number of identical, sexy men in the room filled her with naughty ideas.

Not nearly as fazed by all the bullshit happening around him, Brisket Five took her chin in his hand, guiding her face back to his until she was looking up at his piercing green eyes that could read her like an open book. With a subtle shake of his head, he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t fucking think so, darling,” he said, his voice low with warning.

She batted her lashes at him innocently. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?”

At the mention of his dirty, yet fitting nickname, the other women perked up, dodging their own Five’s kisses and disappointed faces as they shared amused glances with one another.

Still getting publicly dry humped, only now over on the table edge in front of a Five that was still trying to sit there and do his crossword, Greeter Five’s girl chirped, “That’s amazing! So it’s not just my Five that likes the daddy thing!”

None of the Fives needed to say it. Their intense glares directed at each other said it loud and clear for all of them.

I’M THE ONLY DADDY HERE!

“That’s it. We’re going to settle who is the ruler of this deli once and for all!” Greeter announced, right before sliding his girl’s booty shorts towards him so he could push her backside down on the table.

“Sounds like you want to put your money where your mouth is,” taunted Cards Five as he continued to nonchalantly shuffle through his deck.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” the Greeter confirmed, ripping the red and blue shorts down his woman’s legs as he licked his lips and lowered like he was about to dive face first into her pussy-which he was.

“Oh, you are on! Get ready to lose, assholes,” yelled Waiter Five as he picked his girl up with her legs wrapping around his waist.

As there were more grumbles and boastful claims coming from the Fives, the girls glanced around at the roomful of horny, angry men they had on their hands. Brisket Five’s and Greeter Five’s wives took one look at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking.

“Alright, ladies,” Brisket’s wife called out. “We can’t bring these horny old bastards home in the state they’re in. I think we should let them have their fun with us and then we can get out of here safely. Sound good?”

The women all nodded in agreement and just as fast they started to get pawed at even more aggressively.

Having witnessed all of this, the most aloof looking Five who had been sitting in the corner booth, lifted his glass, clinking it with the one sitting in front of his beloved mannequin. “I’m sorry, darling, you might want to shut your eyes.”

Openingly admiring the butt of the girl with the other Five that had been over by the door, Janitor Five asked, “How’d you get so lucky to hit an ass like that?”

Smirking, the Five in question leaned up against the wall next to the jukebox while pulling his lady away from the Janitor. “It’s a long story but it started when I became a pervert that was obsessed with spying on her while I jerked off. Then there was an accidental parking lot abduction incident, and after that, it just sort of happened.”

“You mean, first you tied me up, then I tied you up and set you straight,” she corrected, tugging his tie, which earned her a quiet whimper.

“Oh, so you're into perverted creeps?” Janitor Five said, trying to get a rise out of her Five but he got nothing out of either of them other than more of her hands going down her perverted boyfriend’s pants.

Seeing again that he was going to be left high and dry, the Janitor Five moved on, selecting a perfect song from the jukebox next to them for the fuck-fest that was about to commence. He then turned to Drunk Five who was still in his booth and sneered. “You might as well count yourself out, dickhead. You won't even be able to get it up.”

With an indignant snort, Drunk Five pulled his cheery angel onto his lap, running his hands up and down her bare thighs as she ground down on his rapidly hardening crotch.

“What do you think, honey?” he rasped. “Is he right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, actually,” she laughed, leaning in for a deep kiss.

Cards Five, not at all interested in the sex part of all this, saw his opportunity elsewhere. He turned to the Janitor Five giving him a slanted smile.

“We’re going to make a killing,” he said before hopping up on one of the unoccupied tables with the deli already becoming rowdier from all the couples in various compromising positions and locations around him.

“Listen up, shit heads! Here’s the rules!” Cards Five called out. “The Five who can get their lady off the most times in five minutes wins and will be declared the official BEST FIVE! And…no helping your guys by touching yourselves ladies, or you’re out.”

“Awww,” Janitor Five huffed.

Ignoring his disappointment, Cards Five gestured for him to start collecting the bets, then he pulled his sleeve up and set his stopwatch.

Holding his arm out to show the other Fives, he received the desired nods of approval from all.

Not needing any more encouragement to begin, as soon as Cards Five yelled out ‘go’, every Five who had the option started getting to work, determined to win his very important title.

Amid a flurry of coat jackets being hurriedly shrugged off and ties being thrown through the air, their perfect song selection cued up.

As the first few staccato notes of “Eye of the Tiger” filled the room, there was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the over-sexed men.

The competition had officially begun.

With his vampire girlfriend at his side, Bus-Boy Five took off with her towards the bathroom, entering the small tiled room on the heels of the Pervert Five and his pretty dominator. Shoving him into the wall, the small but assertive female directed her man to drop his pants. Already looking so excited that he might explode, he didn’t argue. His pants fell around his ankles, the metal of his belt clanking against the floor as she yanked his underwear down, letting his length spring free.

With her shirt getting ripped open and the tiny pearl buttons tinkering across the counter, the vampire sank her fangs into her Five, moaning as he hungrily nipped his teeth across her porcelain neck.

Catching the door before it swung closed on them, Janitor Five propped it open, yelling, “There’s no room for modesty here, boys! You better give us a good show in there!”

Over in their booth, doing just that, Drunk Five was already getting the full religious experience with his personal angel.

Straddling his lap, she quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved her hand inside, grabbing hold of his hardened cock. “Even though you fell off the wagon, you know I’ll always let you plow my field,” the angel quipped with a smile.

He pulled her in for a rough kiss, a hand on the back of her neck as she pumped her fist. “Enough of your bad jokes, sweetheart, right now I need you to ride my dick,” he murmured before groaning loudly, “Let’s show these assholes what we can do.”

“You got it, baby,” she purred next to his ear as she pushed her panties aside and sunk herself onto his waiting dick.

With her tits bouncing in front of his face, and her hot sleeve moving fast over his cock, Drunk Five was in a Heaven made just for him. Clutching his shoulders, the angel threw her head back as his heels dug into the floor and he pounded up into her, her broken cries proving he was still a contender.

Simultaneously, on the other side of the deli, Brisket Five was not-so-gently squeezing his wife’s tight, round ass as he aggressively sucked at her neck.

“Five,” she breathed out desperately as she clawed at the back of his shirt after having flung his chef’s apron on the floor. She took a quick peek over his shoulder, scouting the room. “I think we’re out of fuckable places.”

Pulling back with a mischievous grin that always lit a fire in his wife’s pants, Five shook his head. “Not necessarily.”

She let out a short laugh as she worked as fast as she could to get his shirt unbuttoned and pushed off his arms. Running her hands down his firm, bare chest she looked up at him. “You’re going to fuck me in a closet, aren’t you?”

As Brisket Five quickly hurried his wife along to his secret sex spot, Waiter Five brushed past, heading in the same direction.

“I’m calling the kitchen, dipshit, so don’t even bother,” he snarled at Brisket Five.

When he didn’t get the expected spiteful reply in response, Waiter Five stopped and turned. The chef version of himself was not actually trying to bone his woman in the kitchen. Instead, he was continuing in the direction of the supply closet.

“Where the fuck are you going? Scared your girl might see what she’s missing out on?” Waiter jeered, even as his girlfriend was pulling her legs tighter around his waist, rubbing against his hard crotch. His hands gripped her ass harder as he pushed her against the doorway of the kitchen, jerking his hips against her until she let out a beautifully needy moan.

“Think again, dumbshit,” Brisket barked back before unceremoniously shoving his wife into the closet and slamming the door behind him.

“That guy is a total whack-job,” Waiter Five said to his girl before continuing inside, perching her on the food-prep counter.

“How about you focus less on him and more on fucking me,” she suggested, snaking her hand down the front of his pants as she rubbed the large package that was tenting there.

With a quiet grunt, he let his eyes fall shut, his expression one of total bliss as he grinned back at her. “Good idea.”

As she hastily began opening his fly, Five worked on yanking her pants down. Knowing his dirty-minded coffee girl inside and out, he shoved his hand between her legs, letting his long fingers work their magic.

“Daddy knows what you like, doesn’t he, sweetheart?” he seductively taunted.

At the first “Ffff-uuu…yesss” that she whimpered, he knew he had her right where he wanted, and he continued to finger her while she rocked her hips into his hand and pulled at the front of his shirt.

In the closet, Brisket’s wife was pushed roughly against a wall as he flattened her body, attacking her with bruising kisses. With his hands gripping her wrists, he shoved her arms over her head, pinning them to the wall as Janitor Five’s mop went clattering to the floor.

“Panties off. Now!” Five ordered in a harsh but quiet tone, knowing for a fact that this was a sure fire way to get her dripping wet.

Freeing her wrists, she did exactly what he said, dropping her shorts and underwear and kicking them off somewhere in the dim light of the closet. With the sound of his wife’s harsh breathing riling him up even more, Five anxiously unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor.

Lifting one of her legs, holding it up against his hip, he pressed his rock-hard cock between her legs, not entering her as his shaft rubbed against her wet slit.

As he continued to rut into her, faster and harder but not actually fucking her, he felt the satisfying shudder of her body against his. “That’s one, but I think we can do better than that, don’t you think, angel?” he teased.

Also about to witness a second orgasm, sitting over at his booth with Greeter Five licking and lapping his wife’s clit as his fingers squelched in and out of her quivering cunt, Crossword Five lowered a hand under the table, discreetly palming the tightly stretched fabric covering his crotch.

With his fingers thrusting and wife gasping, her body bucking on the table in front of them, Greeter Five looked up, his face proudly shining as he glanced at their booth buddy. “Might as well whip it out and go for it, you dirty bastard. She likes to watch.”

At the sound and sight of Crossword Five’s fly zipping down, the woman on the table between the two shameless men cried out, “Oh, Fivvvvve. Fucck, yes! I love you!”

“That’s right, say it louder, beautiful. Let these assholes get a taste of what they are missing!” her husband growled, right before grinding his face between her legs again.

In the corner booth, not at all impressed, the Five sitting with Dolores picked up his empty margarita, eyeing it like it had personally offended him. “I’m not like that, am I?” he questioned, to which the mannequin next to him held her Mona Lisa smile, but only until he looked over and cutely smirked. “Oh. You’re right. I am like that,” Five chuckled, clearly stewed.

In the bathroom two minutes earlier, the Pervert Five’s head fell back with a bang against the wall the moment his girlfriend’s lips began to circle around the dripping tip of his waiting erection.

A few feet away, flipping around his vampire, Bus-Boy Five was about to do some sucking of a totally different kind as he lined himself up to the smooth white ass waiting for him to destroy it. Fisting the length of the vamp’s hair as the tip of his cock prodded the coolness of her slippery folds, his words came out ominously dark. “You’re all I’ll ever want. This time I want forever.”

“Then take it,” his vampire moaned as Five’s lips began to move along the exposed side of her milky throat. Looking like a man whose soul needed saving, using a hand to guide the thickened head of his cock where he needed it, penetrating all her senses at once, his blunted teeth slowly began to sink in.

A guttural moan reverberated from Five’s chest as his mouth filled with the salvation of her bittersweet taste.

Mouth agape, her fingers clenching the edge of the countertop as Five’s tongue moved over her broken skin, the vampire’s body, shaking with lust, jerked back, forcing him to bottom out.

“So-so fucking tight,” he deliriously groaned, just before thrusting his dick inside her again with much more supernatural vigor.

Looking up as he fucked, his chocolate locks hanging in his eyes and his lip still bleeding from one of her love bites, Five grinned at his reflection in the mirror, the wicked gleam in his eyes matching the sinful glow in hers lovinginly looking back at him.

Not to be out done by the debauchery happening next to them, the other Five helplessly gasped a string of profanities as he clenched his hand on the back of his girlfriend’s head so he could better slam his dick down her throat.

Interrupting the gagging and sniffling, whines and animalistic grunts and growls streaming out of the bathroom, pointing at the violent blow job in progress, Janitor Five barked out, “Disqualified! You’re supposed to be getting her off, not the other way around, you selfish dumbass!”

Coming fully undone, unloading in her mouth with his hips twitching even more spastically with each new wave of ecstasy, dumbass Five hissed and moaned, “Fuuu-aaaahh- This feels so ff- Mmfff- I don’t fff-ucking care.”

As Waiter Five’s girlfriend was coming down from her finger-fuck climax in the kitchen, he was already preparing for the next round. Stroking his leaking cock, he positioned his swollen tip at her soaking wet opening. As he slammed into her, her head fell back, knocking against the metal pots and pans that were hanging behind them. Each clatter of metal was accompanied by a loud moan as Waiter Five used all of his strength to give his girl the fuck of her life.

Alerted by all the noise, Janitor Five poked his head through the kitchen’s service window. “Hey, you better not drip any jizz on that floor, I just mopped it.”

Not slowing down for even a second while he continued to rail his girl as hard as possible, Waiter Five glanced over his shoulder at the dickhead in the doorway. “Says the guy that cums in the coleslaw.”

Smiling and mouthing ‘True’ to the girl being nailed where their food was prepared, Janitor Five witnessed a second Waiter-delivered orgasm. It was followed a few seconds later by a loud groan and some cursing as his counterpart came hard inside of her, the clanging of the pots and pans slowly quieting as his body stilled.

Back in the closet, Brisket Five’s wife clung to the rattling supply shelves as his hips slapped against her ass and his dick slammed inside her from behind. Sweating and out of breath, expertly maneuvering his fingers on her clit, she started coming hard.

“Fuck, Fiiive!!” she screamed as she bucked her ass backward and rolls of toilet paper rained down on them.

“That’s two,” he panted heavily as she tried to regain her composure enough to stand on her wobbly legs. “One more, darling?”

Grinning widely, pulling her flush with his chest, his cock still-hard, his wife nodded and smiled knowingly; just another confirmation that the two were meant for each other.

As he went in for a kiss, a hand tangled in her hair, she stumbled forward, causing Five to stagger backward into the door. The two came flying out of the supply closet with a giant crash as they fell into a mostly-naked heap onto the floor.

There was a very brief pause as everyone else in the deli looked in their direction, but they were quickly ignored as the other Fives got back down to business.

“One minute left, boys…let’s wrap it up!” yelled Cards Five.

Determined not to lose, Brisket Five pushed his wife onto her back and crawled on top, not giving a shit that they were laid out for the entire deli to see. Thrusting his cock back into her still-wet cunt, Five let out a long groan. Going at it hard as he held himself up on his forearms, he rammed into her at just the right angle. From there, his wife’s third orgasm came quickly, allowing him to fill her up with an impressive stream of cum.

Standing near the kitchen service window, Janitor Five slammed his palm down onto the order-up bell to signal the latest win. “Another one for Brisket!” he yelled. “That’s three!”

As Brisket Five and his wife laid on their backs, chests heaving, he grabbed a nearby discarded suit coat and threw it over her bottom half. With satisfied smiles, they lazily high-fived one another on a job well done.

Realizing he needed to do something fast, Greeter Five worked his hips overtime as his wife’s legs draped around the narrow of his waistcoat.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Janitor Five chanted along with him as he dangled over the booth, watching their Greeter going at it, his dick working like a piston engine.

In a frenzy, beating his meat hard, Crossword Five let out a broken moan.

Only taking his eyes off his prize long enough to see that Cards Five was counting down the final seconds on his fingers, Greeter Five frantically gasped, “Touch him, NOW!”

As the telepath’s hand fell into Crossword Five’s free hand, his face pinched in ecstasy and spatters of cum flung from his rapidly pumping fist, landing all over the tabletop.

To the backdrop of Janitor Five loudly singing, ‘Rising up to the challenge of our rivals,’ Greeter Five’s wife’s eyes began to roll back in her head and her body began to tighten and turn to mush all over again.

Looking like a madman, Greeter Five kept at it, thrusting his throbbing cock in and out of her trembling hole as he filled her with load after load of pent up seed.

“Yes! We got this in the bag!” Janitor Five exclaimed, obnoxiously clapping his hands together over the awe inspiring spectacle of the three exhibitionists simultaneously climaxing.

Turning back and forth between the two Fives who appeared to be at a tie, Cards Five held up his watch for his betting buddies to see. “It’s…TIME!” he shouted.

Either not hearing that it was over, or simply not caring, Bus-Boy Five and his vampire girlfriend burst out of the bathroom with him carrying her like she was his front backpack. Unnaturally floating past everyone, he kept at it, impaling her, his phantomlike showmanship making it abundantly clear he wasn’t going to stop and he didn’t give a damn who won the fuck competition.

Just then, the bell on the door chimed as Old Five walked in wearing his dapper gray suit and hat. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on in here!” he gasped in horror as the undead couple disappeared through the doorway behind him.

Kissing his wife languidly as his softening dick wetly slipped out of her, Greeter Five began to laugh. “Busted, beautiful. I saw that,” he said, taunting her as she dizzily eyed-up the older gentleman. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, still treasuring her with gentle brushes of his lips against her flushed cheeks.

“What?” she said as she grinned and pulled his pants around him, re-fastening his belt. “You give an amazing mustache ride. You can’t blame a girl for wanting to feel the tickle of your sexy old man whiskers for old time’s sake.”

The line between Greeter Five’s brows deepened with distaste as Old Five looked his half naked wife up and down, his mostly whitened brows going all the way to his hairline because he was so floored by what she just said.

Chuckling at Greeter Five’s sour expression, Janitor Five started to clear some of the scattered dishes on their table since their bus-boy was currently preoccupied doing vampire things. “Are you going to spank her for saying that, or do you want me to since you look a little spent?” he conversationally offered.

“No thank you. I’ll take care of it later,” Greeter Five politely chuckled as his wife pinched his butt.

As the rest of the Fives and their girls were still lounging around in various states of droopy eyed post coital bliss, twirling his wife’s panties on his index finger, Greeter Five smiled smugly. “As I said before all of this, I am, and always was, the winner here.”

Not having that, Brisket Five, helping his wife up off the floor, chimed in, “No. It’s a tie. Everyone heard my girl screaming for me at least three times. Twice in the closet and the last just now.”

Tensions rising again, arguing about how to divide the money, the betting Five’s started in on each other.

“Well, this has been interesting,” Old Five grumbled from where he was sitting in one of the back booths, his hat resting next to him as he sipped his coffee. “I can’t believe what a moron I used to be.”

Before picking up his book, the old man’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he gave Greeter Five’s wife a flirty wink. Getting one back, he reached over, dropping a quarter in the jukebox.

Missing the enamored look on his wife’s face this time since his focus was on his nemesis, Greeter Five said, “Whatever. See you later, loser.”

Brisket Five’s smarmy grin deepened. “You only hit three because you are a cheater, shit head.”

About to say something else ridiculous to the other him, a finger pressed against Greeter Five’s lips, shushing him. Her mind willing him to shut his trap, the seemingly harmless blonde began softly singing along with the jukebox and his eyes instantly glossed over.

Let ‘em say we're crazy, I don’t care about that…Put your hand in my hand baby, don’t ever look back…

“What a pussy,” Brisket Five laughed at the other him’s inability to see that he’d been silenced.

Sighing, his wife’s head moved back and forth in reprimand.

“What?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know.

Grinning like an idiot as the song that had so much meaning to him played, Greeter Five, having forgotten what he was going on about, allowed his clever wife to tow him towards the door like a puppy on a leash. Following their lead, the Five who still owed his girlfriend for her world-class BJ, and a much more sober Five and his angel, happily made their way out with Waiter Five and his coffee girl not far behind. Brisket and his wife brought up the rear, his arm draped over her shoulder.

As all of the couples made their way out of the deli, every one of the Fives was looking forward to finally getting back to the places where they had first learned what it meant to be truly loved.

Seeing that their only reliable cook was now leaving them, Janitor Five threw his hands in the air as he yelled out, “Hey, Brisket, what the fuck are we supposed to eat now?”

Turning around and seeing his signature apron lying on the floor, Brisket Five scooped it up. With a crooked grin, he flipped his hair out of his eyes and tossed it at the deli’s biggest asshole. “Why not try eating a dick?”

After the doors of the train closed, and the more fortunate Fives were on their way, Janitor looked over at Cards Five and shrugged as if considering that.

Turning to go back inside as he laughed, then began belting out, “AND…WE can build this dream TOGETHER, standing strong forever, NOTHINGS GONNA STOP US NOW! AND if this-”

As they heard the sound of another train coming into the station, he stopped.

With that unexpected surprise, not long later, all of the remaining Fives finally found their happiness, too.

Thank you all for reading this, and for all your support through our many, many crazy Five stories. ❤️

To read Kitty's origin stories for Brisket Five, Waiter Five, and Drunk Five either visit this master list or hit the A03 links below.

(Brisket) Halo Series

(Waiter Five) 'Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee

(Drunk Five) It's a Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves

To read Breezy's origin stories for Greeter Five, Vampy Five, and Pervert Five either hit my master list or the A03 links below:

(Greeter Five) Paramore (The Umbrella Academy) 3-part series

(Vampy Five) 'The Devil Within'

(Pervert Five) 'Bad Things'

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anakinstwinklebunny · 14 days ago

Note

could you do scott being a girl dad? head cannons or fic whatever you’re more comfortable with <3

Author's note: ughhhhhhhhhh you guys are amazingly creative, love it so much.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the sun was low and soft, casting a golden light over the park. Parents chatted nearby, and kids laughed and ran through the playground while SCOTT BARRINGER leaned against the park bench, arms crossed over his chest, eyes watching his little girl run across the playground with the confidence of someone who knew was adored beyond measure. She was all pigtails and scrapes on her knees, a huge smile with one front tooth missing, yet in his eyes, absolutely perfect, just like her mother.

He glanced around, scanning the group of kids in her orbit. He couldn’t help himself; he was wired to protect his little princess, to be on guard for anything that could put a stop to her joy.

But then he noticed him—some little boy, about the same age as his daughter, lingering a little too close to her. He seemed innocent enough, but Scott didn’t like the way he was watching his girl, following her around the playground with a big, goofy smile. Scott squinted, shifting forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he leaned in, keeping his eyes on the kid.

She was playing on the swings, her face bright and full of laughter as she kicked her legs up, little sneakers scuffing the air. He loved watching her like this—joyful and carefree. He could feel his chest warm, almost like he’d swallowed the sun, every time he heard her giggle.

The boy finally made his way to her swing, holding onto the chains and making her laugh even more. That little ha-ha, right there—that was the moment he crossed a line. Scott rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Nah… kid’s ugly.” He was sure of it. That kid was nothing but trouble, with his wild hair and those dirt-covered sneakers. And when he saw him push her swing even higher? Scott felt his jaw clench instinctively.

“Daddy!” Her voice snapped him out of his haze, and he straightened up immediately, his expression softening. She’d hopped off the swing, running over to him with the kind of energy only a five-year-old could manage.

“Hey, princess,” he said, opening his arms as she crashed into him, burying her face against his shoulder. “You having fun?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, breathless. “Guess what? Tommy pushed my swing so high!”

Tommy.

Scott filed that name away under 'unacceptable'. And right on cue, there he was, trotting up to Scott’s daughter, smiling his big toothy grin like he had any right to.

“Tommy, huh?” Scott said, raising an eyebrow and looking Tommy up and down as if he were sizing up a full-grown man. “Seems like he’s got a lot of energy.”

His daughter nodded, thrilled. “He’s fun, Daddy! He’s my friend.”

“Friend?” Scott repeated, almost to himself. His mouth twisted into a half-smile, half-smirk as he glanced at the boy. He lowered his voice, his expression turning more to a puzzles one “I don’t know, angel.. There are, uh… cooler friends out there.” He threw a discreet but clearly disapproving look Tommy’s way.

She looked at him, wide-eyed. “Really?”

"yeah..like..uh..maybe this blow lion? It's pretty interesting friend to play with, ya know?"

She giggled, tugging on his large hand. “Daddy, you’re so silly!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair. But he couldn't help it—no boy was good enough for his little girl, not now, not ever.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo

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authorhjk1 · 3 months ago

Note

Was just wondering.. How would RV members react when reader, their bf, wants to fuck them in cosplay.. And which characters would each RV members cosplay for reader to fuck?

Irene

She wouldn't be a fan of it. At least not at first. Irene would carefully ask you, what you had in mind for her. After telling her, she would consider it. The next time you come over, Irene waits for you in her bedroom. You can't believe how gorgeous she looks. You were afraid she would say no. But now, a beautiful elf is sitting in front of you. She knows how much you love Lord of the Rings, so she gave it a shot. She can't help but smile at the way you eyes take in every detail. Her green robe is a little more revealing than it usually would be.

Seulgi

Seulgi would love the idea. She says yes immediately, already having something in mind. Growing up, Seulgi really liked Disney princesses, so this was her chance. When you come home one night, you are surprised when the apartment is only dimly lit. Soft, Arabic music plays in the background and you can smell spices Seulgi bought for only this occasion. You're surprised that she would be into this so much. When you finally see her, you're blown away. Seulgi is wearing loose, almost see through turquoise pants. The matching top shows off a deep cleavage, exposing her shoulders and her back as well. The whole outfit is sparkling and decorated with expensive looking stones. Catching a glimpse of her blue, sparkling thong, you have to admit that this isn't exactly the outfit you remember. But Seulgi looks gorgeous. Sexy. But the highlight is something you thought you would never see on her. Seulgi decided to use her earring to attach a small, golden chain to it, which connects it with another small ring in her nose. Most definitely a clip on. But Seulgi's interpretation of princess Jasmine was more than you could've ever imagined.

Wendy

Wendy would be cautious at first. Being very self aware, she would hesitate, wondering why you would bring this up. Is she too boring? Do you want to be with someone else?

After assuring her that this was just an idea and that you love her, no matter what her decision would be, Wendy slowly warms up to the idea. Actually, her idea was a little unconventional. She didn't decide on a movie character or a person from a TV show or anime or whatever. No. Wendy knows who your favorite idol is. After herself and Red Velvet of course.

You're very aware that you keep staring very inappropriately, when Wendy makes a point of dancing in front of you. You are still surprised she chose to impersonate Somi. At first, you didn't really get what she put on. A blonde wig, a white top and a black leather skirt.

But as soon as she put on one of Somi's songs and started to dance, you immediately knew what was going on.

Joy

Joy loved the idea as soon as the question left your mouth. And she already had something in mind. You were surprised at how much she seemed to be into it. And when you asked her what she was gonna do, she just gave you a cheeky smile, before directing the conversation into another direction.

Two days later, Joy stands in front of you, a baseball bat over her shoulder. She dyed her hair specifically for this occasion. The ends of her blonde pigtails end in pink on her right and blue on her left. The words "Daddy's little monster" we're imprinted on her white and red top. Joy's blue shorts might have just as well been panties. They didn't cover much more, completely exposing her legs and especially her thighs. The choker on her neck, her fake tattoos on her arms and her makeup made her look evil and crazy.

Yeri

Yeri was the one who came up with the idea. She promised herself that she would try it out, if she ever found out a boyfriend. Which is now you. You're not completely surprised, when you come home and see Yeri in her Hogwarts robe and a wand in her hand. She likes to put it on, when the two of you go on a Harry Potter marathon. Which happens way more than you'd like to admit.

But this time, Yeri is holding a book as well. It looks like it's a small notebook, but she glued a page on top of the cover, making it almost look like an actual book. You have to give her credit for trying. She plays around with her emerald green tie, reading the book, while pretending not to notice you. Stepping closer, you finally catch the title. "Love potions, lust increasing plants and forbidden spells" You decide to play along. You grab the book, making Yeri gasp as she looks up.

"Professor..."

Glancing at the page, you realize Yeri put quite a lot of effort into this. The page really looks like it's from a book about magic. It's about two spells. She probably made up the Latin words for them. But one seems to increase the lust and arousal of a person, while the other... You raise an eyebrow.

"Miss Kim. Would you like to explain yourself?"

You can tell how turned on Yeri already is.

"I'm sorry, sir."

She doesn't seem to be sorry at all.

"I already tried out the second one."

You read it again, still surprised by Yeri's lewd description of the spell.

"This spell makes your pussy the tightest in the world. Side effects: increased lust, more and stronger orgasms,... "

You stop reading and slam the book shut.

"I hope you can make up for all the house points you just lost, Miss Kim."

You grab her by the tie and pull her towards the bedroom.

#ask #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #red velvet #irene red velvet #irene smut #red velvet seulgi #seulgi smut #wendy red velvet #wendy smut #red velvet joy #joy smut #red velvet yeri #yeri smut #red velvet smut

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galaxiasgreen · 4 months ago

Text

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 5.4k words]

Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things. You were just afraid.

In which, against the wishes of his staunchly pure-blood supremacist family, Ominis Gaunt befriends you, a naive Muggle-born Hufflepuff, and his life inexplicably changes.

Or, what happens when a pure-blood from an anti-Muggle family falls in love with a Muggle-born?

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant.

[MASTERLIST][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

TW: familial abuse, blood/ injury, torture, fantasy prejudice/ racism.

1: Strawberry Laces

He calls you Gibberish, because sometimes that's all you speak.

In first year, Ominis remembers crossing your path after the Sorting ceremony. You, a shaky little Muggle-born, near no knowledge of the magical world and its machinations, and the depths of its cruelty. You, who only enjoyed wonder in everything: every moving painting, the candles that floated untethered, and the way the air hummed with something else, something ethereal. He remembers hearing your distinctive voice in the foyer outside the Great Hall.

He remembers how you, somehow, managed to get lost.

Your upbeat curiosity pealed like a bell amongst the sombre tension of the first-year Slytherins. For some reason, your hair is what Ominis remembers best. Later he would find out it was thick, bouncy wild curls pinched into two pigtails at the side of your head, but the first thing he recalls is the smell, faintly of something saccharine.

"You're in the wrong place."

A pause, presumably as you realised he was addressing you. "Aren't we going to the form rooms?" you asked, that high-pitched voice like birdsong at dawn. It was hard to forget, given the nervous squeal you made when you were called up to be Sorted. It was already ingrained into his head.

"You're meant to be going to the Hufflepuff common room," he said, frowning. Form. What was a form? He pointed his wand at the Hufflepuffs heading the other way through the hall. "Your house is over that way."

"Oh!" You giggled, a sickly sweet noise, and headed over. "Thanks!"

How did you even get them mixed up? Ominis still doesn't know. He didn't think about you again until the next day, when term officially began Charms. By chance, he was seated next to you. That smell again, that voice.

"Have no fear, Master Gaunt," cheered Professor Ronen, "I will be giving you more practical assignments, so you don't have as much writing to do."

That was some consolation, he supposed. Practical assignments played to his best strengths.

When Ronen moved on to check Adelaide's technique, Ominis heard your chair squeak. Heard the hiss of your clothes as you peered over. Something rattled on your face – glasses.

"It's... Ominis, right?"

He pursed his lips, displeased at the interruption. "Can I help you?"

"You're an actual wizard?"

"... What?"

"I mean, you know, you were born into this magic thing."

A pure-blood, is what you meant. "Yes. What of it?"

"That's great, because I just wanted to know... erm... which way around does the wand go?"

That had to be a joke. "You can't be serious."

"S-Sorry, I swear I'm not pulling your leg." Pulling your leg? You laughed nervously. "It's just— my wand is a little crooked, and it doesn't have a handle, like yours— so I don't actually know if I'm holding it the right way up or not, and I don't want to blast myself in the face."

A wave of that saccharine soap again. Ominis wrinkled his nose and continued practicing Wingardium Leviosa. Swish and flick. "Can you really not tell?"

"No..."

You sounded genuine. Not joking.

Hmm. Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things.

You were just afraid.

"It's the tapered point that's the end."

"They're both thin."

"Let me feel it."

You hesitated. "Feel— it?"

"Well I can't look at it, can I?"

Another moment of hesitation. An intake of breath.

"Oh!" You nearly blew out his eardrums. "Sorry. You're blind!"

"Well spotted."

"I didn't notice."

"I figured."

You made an indignant noise and handed it over. His senses immediately flooded. It was an intimate sensation, to hold someone else's wand, especially that of a near-stranger. To feel the springy wood beneath his fingertips, the coarse grains of the wood. A light wood, airy. He was no expert on wands, and certainly no Ollivander, but he'd been touching and feeling things long enough to recognise details most sighted people would miss.

Yes, it was crooked, an odd shape for an odd person. He drew his thumb up the wand's janky spine.

"That's the top." He held the handle and offered it back to you. "There."

"Brilliant. Okay." You took the wand back. Cleared your throat. "Here goes then. Wingardium Leviosa!"

Something shifted beside him. A soft fabric drew up against his leg, raising higher and higher, past his head—

"Wait," Ominis spluttered, "is that my satchel?"

"It didn't— oh!" Panic fluttered through you. "No, no, no! Stop, wand! Un-Wingardium Leviosa! Erm, Spellus Stoppus?"

He didn't know how you did it, but even when he told you the right orientation, still you managed to point it the wrong way, the tip facing the bag by his chair, and Professor Ronen had to instruct you on the correct way by using chalk to mark the right end – after he got Ominis' bag down from the ceiling.

There are so many things he still doesn't understand about you.

Weeks into first year, when he'd learnt to adapt to your strange, Muggle quirks, your funny language and unwittingly explosive efforts in other classes, the two of you were doing homework on the lawn with Ominis' Slytherin dormmate, Sebastian Sallow. Sebastian thought you odd, too, but he had more exposure to Muggles than Ominis did – certainly more than the anti-Muggle disdain he received at home – and quickly warmed to your jolly attitude.

"It's strange. My dad hears all the confectionary chatter from America. Apparently this thing called peanut butter is making waves over there now." You grounded the sugar quill with your teeth – Ominis could hear it like a second heartbeat. "Doesn't that sound disgusting?"

"It does," marvelled Sebastian. "Butter and peanuts? What a strange combination."

"I know!" You rolled onto your back – and Ominis caught it again. Your scent. So intrinsically tied to you that every fresh wave made him feel comforted somehow. "You can't just put those two things together!"

"Your soap," Ominis blurted, and the conversation paused so abruptly that his cheeks heated. "What is it? It doesn't smell like anything I know."

"Oh, yes." Your voice was contemplative, sheepish as you pushed up your glasses. "I brought it from home. It reminds me of my family. Smells like our confectionary shop."

That didn't answer the question, and by his expression, you knew it.

"It's strawberry laces! You know? They're strawberry-flavoured, and they look like laces..."

"What in Merlin's name is a strawberry lace?"

"It's a type of candy! They're chewy and sweet!"

"Are they laces for your shoes?"

"No! That's just the shape of them."

Sebastian leant over crinkly parchment. "Do you mean red liquorice?"

"Yes!" You belted it so loud Ominis fell back. "Sorry! Sorry, yes. Red liquorice. That's its proper name."

"Then why didn't you call it red liquorice?"

"... Because it's strawberry laces. That's what we call them. It's my favourite treat."

"But that makes no sense! Why not just call it what it is?"

"Is it a Muggle thing?" Sebastian asked.

"No." A beat. "Maybe?"

Ominis scoffed. "You talk so much nonsense I can barely understand you sometimes."

You spat out your tongue. "Oh yeah, Ominis Gaunt? Mister, I Cast Whoopy-Doopy-Goopy to make your Thingimajig Ringadingdong?"

He spluttered, exasperated. "I don't sound like that! That's— that's just gibberish!"

"... Wait, is gibberish an actual language? Because goblins speak Gobbledegook, so..."

Sebastian howled with laughter. Your naivety was kind of adorable.

"The only one who speaks gibberish here," Ominis said, going back to his wandwork, "is you."

"Hmph!" You enunciated your indignation with such purpose. "Then maybe I'm fluent!"

And you were. You still are.

Neither Ominis nor Sebastian let you live it down, and the effects rippled throughout the first years. Sebastian's sister Anne found you adorably strange and joyfully brazen. Your Hufflepuff housemates enjoyed your humour and shenanigans. Even outside of your mismatched little groups, others in the the year, like Amit Thakkar and Garreth Weasley, thought you were a hoot, the silliest Muggle-born they'd ever met. Gibberish was your native language, and they all agreed. Soon everyone gave you the nickname. At one point it became Gibby. You pouted at each mention at first, but you grew fond of it eventually – then wearing it like a badge of honour. You adopted it, made it your own.

And even into second and third year, when the magical world became more familiar, you were Gibby.

Of course, you were never Gibby when Ominis wrote home. You were never anyone. It didn't take Ravenclaw wisdom to clock that his friendship with you was never considered proper. Pure-bloods, you learnt as quickly as he did, were the superior blood-status, and Muggle-borns the dregs left to rot at the bottom of the scummy barrel. That Mudblood was a slur of the lowest calibre. Ominis was shrewd enough to lie by omission in his letters back home, when his parents demanded to know about his friends and alliances. He simply never mentioned you at all, and all your adventures were given to Sebastian.

That didn't stop them from finding out.

"Who is she?"

Father had marched him to his study, made him sit. Even though a fire roared in the hearth, the place was cold, a slick tar against his skin. Even in the plushest chair, a high-back velvet with curling arms, he was the most uncomfortable he'd ever been. Even though he was blind, he could feel his parents' gaze like the tips of a thousand knives, pressed to the soft flesh of his throat.

"She's— no one."

"Don't lie to me," snapped his father. His mother was silent but complicit, by the way she paced from wood to carpet to wood again. "Edwin Malfoy said his son mentioned you frolicking around the school with some Hufflepuff. A Muggle-born."

There was no way he could deny it. Damn Peregrine Malfoy. They weren't in the same year group at school; why did he have to mention you at all? Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? It had been three years already – what was another four?

Ominis contemplated what to say, urging his fingers to still, his toes to flatten. He could not betray his fear, betray the sudden rising heartbeat, the clamminess of his palms, nor the pure, unadulterated dread that roiled through him.

"It's— it's just Gibby," he forced out as calmly as he could.

"Gibby?" shrilled his mother.

"Not her real name," Ominis said quickly. "It's actually—"

"But she's Muggle-born?" his father demanded.

"Yes, but—"

"Have we taught you nothing, boy? Muggles, and their filthy spawn, are weak. Muggle-born magic is diluted, and therefore they are not worthy to wield it."

His mother was sobbing in the corner, like this extended hand of friendship he'd given to you, this supposed error, was grievous enough to tear a hole through her heart.

"Our bloodline is sacred. We are descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin himself! When you choose to associate with these disgusting Mudbloods," he spat the word, "you are sending a message that these interlopers can take our land, our magic and our privileges. They can encroach on what is rightfully ours. Did you know they used to burn witches? Even though, in every way, we are superior to them?" His father drummed impatient fingers on the marble mantelpiece. Each clack sent more and more terrified shivers down Ominis' spine. "A good thing Noctua went missing. Spending too much time with her addled you. Now we must have a more formal hand in your education."

Ominis didn't know how to respond to that. How could they say that about Aunt Noctua? "What do you—?"

A knock at the door cut through his words – Ominis immediately recognised the knock's low timbre. His older brother. Marvolo. Panic rendered him paralysed.

"Come in," called his father.

Ominis heard his brother's footsteps. Heard the cruelty of his smile.

"Is it time, Father?"

"Yes. Take him downstairs."

Ominis didn't speak. There was no point. Marvolo, of all his older siblings, was the cruellest, an exact replica of their father who despised Muggles and Muggle-borns, despised Noctua, and revered the family name and the bloodline as divine, rather than simply blood and sinew and a surname. His grip on Ominis' shoulder was hard enough to draw blood, curled into the muscle like claws.

They all went downstairs, silent. Ominis had never been to this part of the house before – sometimes, when the moon was highest, when he stowed quietly to the kitchens for a midnight nibble, he heard screaming. At first he thought it his imagination, the night playing tricks on his keen senses.

When he descended into the cellar, he realised for the first time that it was not the night's whims having their fun. The dark, after all, had never been so wicked to him before.

The smell was the first thing that hit him. A strong, tangy scent, coppery and unpleasant. Blood. He couldn't help a sharp intake of breath, which only left the taste on his tongue. The chill was second, as bone-deep as a tundra. By the echo of breath, the ceiling was low and poorly lit, for his father cast a Fire charm at the braziers besides the doorway.

There was a ruffle of cotton. A low murmur. Marvolo's grip ceased, and he roughly shoved Ominis forwards.

"Do you know what's in front of you?"

Tremoring, Ominis reached for his wand. In the time he'd bought it at Ollivander's, it had become something special to him. A way to navigate the castle, yes, but it was much more than that. Almost sentient. It seemed to know how he was feeling and how to react to it, just as it did now, pulsing like a wild heartbeat beneath his fingertips. At eleven he'd been sceptical of the phrase 'the wand chooses the wizard', but now he believed there was truth in it. His wand had shown him that magic was in the air, all around him – all he had to do was draw on it.

He reached out, trying to fit together the scattered pieces of feedback. The ruffles and strangled breaths and scratch-scratch of rope. The cold, as sharp as the ice they used to keep fruit and meat fresh. The overwhelming smell of blood and dirt.

"Is—" He shouldn't have second-guessed himself, not with his family present, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing, smelling, tasting, what he was potentially beholding. "Is that a person trussed up?"

"You missed an important factor," said his father. "This is no person. This is mud."

A Muggle.

The Muggle whimpered. There was some gag around their mouth, and yet Ominis deciphered every note of fear.

"But this is dangerous!" He went to hide his wand, but Marvolo's hand stopped him. "You shouldn't have brought—"

"We can do what we want," Marvolo said. "We're Gaunts, little brother, and this scum before you requires humbling."

Ominis swallowed bile. Perhaps errantly, your voice hummed in his mind then. Your laugh. He imagined hearing it. Imagined it was you tied to the floor.

"No," he said at once. "I won't do it."

"The Cruciatus Curse has been used to subdue our enemies for centuries." Pride flowed through his brother's words. "You should be overjoyed to have this opportunity. Your siblings and I were thrilled with our first Muggles."

They've tortured innocent people before. All his brothers and sisters – they'd all done it.

"But— I can't hurt them. T-They've done nothing wrong to me. They're just—"

"They are worms beneath our boots, and their very existence is an abomination." Marvolo gave him a rough jerk. "I taught you how to use Crucio."

Yes, but Ominis swore it was only for self-defence.

When he didn't reply, Marvolo spoke, "So cast it now, on the Muggle."

Ominis shook his head. Fear and panic ran his mouth dry. "I can't."

"You will, or so help me, boy, you'll be a disgrace to the family," muttered his father. "Cast it."

"No."

"Cast. It."

"I won't."

Marvolo's laugh rang out. "I didn't realise your spine was made of cotton, Ominis."

But Ominis was made of steel in that moment, for he couldn't imagine a better reason to defy his family than for the sake of Muggles and Muggle-borns. For you.

"I won't cast it."

"Then you clearly need some encouragement." And before Ominis could even process what that meant, Marvolo yelled, "Crucio!"

It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pain, as he understood, was simply a reflex of the body to let the brain know something, somewhere, was wrong. A warning sign to cease whatever behaviour was causing it.

This was pain with no epicentre. There was no singular point that was bowing to the most pressure. This was all-encompassing and never-ending. This was his stomach and chest and heart, his brain and lungs, from the tips of his fingers to the knobs of his shoulders and knees and the ends of his toes. Every part of him, alight, doused in oil and set on fire through the concentrated rays of the sun.

Nowadays he doesn't remember that moment very clearly. The anguish was so great, he must've blacked out once or twice. Marvolo held it for a long time, longer than he needed to ingrain his foul teachings. All Ominis does remember is the pain, so acute that words fail to describe it, even to this day.

And the thought, back then, that his family could cause such pain, tore something inside him he would never be able to stitch back up.

When his brother released the curse, Ominis was curled up on the floor. Something wet lay beneath his cheek. Perhaps sweat. Perhaps spit. Perhaps blood, his own or the Muggle's. Perhaps even piss, for the curse had been too much for his bladder to handle. Every nerve ending on his skin was trembling. He'd let go of his wand somewhere in the room, and even now he couldn't sense it, like the pain had burned a hole where instead should be that bond.

"That is a Gaunt," said his father, pride sugaring his tone. "Your brother didn't hesitate."

Marvolo's voice was warm with mockery. "I have no qualms using the Cruciatus Curse on you, little brother, if it will teach you a valuable lesson."

What lesson could that possibly be? In the dizziness, Ominis couldn't untangle what the crucial moral was. It was a puzzle he couldn't solve, and perhaps never would.

"Would you like me to cast that on you again?"

"No!" Ominis managed to weep. He dribbled as he did, and shame burst through him. "N-No, please."

"Then get up," Marvolo hauled him to his feet, whether he was ready or not, "and cast it on someone who really deserves it."

Ominis is ashamed of the memory that follows. Sometimes he wishes he could alter it, pull it out of his mind like brittle thread and snap it into pieces, but then he wouldn't remember the valuable lesson he did learn that day. That his family were a cruel peoples.

And, as he raised his wand at his victim, that he was cruel now too.

"Crucio!"

Back near the end of third year, Ominis had found you climbing a tree on the school grounds. The wind was high and fretful – like his nerves, hearing you so far up, that carefree giggle carried on the current like bird's wings.

"Is that you, Gibby?"

"Ominis!" you chirruped. "You have to come up. The view is great!"

"I bet it's really swell."

"Sorry, sorry! I mean— oh, just come up! It's amazing, I promise!"

"You know you have a broom, right?" he called up, exasperated. "It's much safer than climbing trees! Where you could fall."

"I know! But this is all I've got back home, so I'd better get used—"

You let out a noise. The tree rumbled. There were four hard knocks that sent terror through him like lightning and a sudden thump on the ground like a knife to the gut. He rushed over to where you were crying out, breathless with pain. He'd never heard such a keening sound before, not in a physical, raw sense, where he could almost feel it himself. Pain that was almost too burdened to bear.

"Ugh, you're so foolish!" He nocked his wand skywards and sent out a flare. Hopefully someone would see it. "What have you hurt?"

You were in too much agony to reply – something had to be broken.

"I'm going to feel you, okay?"

You made a straggled noise he took for consent and pressed a hand to your arm. It came away wet. Blood. A broken and torn arm for certain then. You wheezed, too. Perhaps a broken rib. He pressed gently around, searching for the worst sources of pain through the leaf-ridden folds of your robes and shattered remnants of your glasses, but only when he reached forwards, felt the wetness around your upper lip and cheeks, did he realise you were choking from the blood of a broken nose.

He'd never felt a face before, not anyone outside his family. Yours was smaller than he'd expected. Your presence was so loud, so vivid, he'd expected you to match it physically as well. Even in the state that you were he could smell that sweet soap, and for some reason had the sudden urge to touch the rest of your face, explore how you were made, how the world shaped you.

"I'm going to staunch the bleeding." Instead he dispelled the thoughts and pointed his wand, enunciating as clearly as he could, "Episkey!"

A whip-like crack. You shrieked, but after a moment, your hysteria calmed, and he wiped the blood around your nose with his sleeve.

"I—" Tears filtered your winded voice. "I can't... move... my leg."

"It's probably broken too, like every other bone in your body," he retorted sharply. Good thing he'd had advance tutoring for healing spells. "I told you it was dangerous."

"I know," you bleated.

But his anger dissolved. There was no point rubbing it in your face. Whether he was right, or whether you had come down the tree perfectly well, you would've done it anyway.

"Can you last until someone comes to help?" he mumbled, lowering his tone.

"I can last."

"Good. I'll wait with you."

"Promise I... won't look into the light."

Ominis wrinkled his nose. "A sight joke now? Really?"

"No, no... it's a Muggle saying— never mind." A weighted pause. "Thank you."

He scoffed. "For being right?"

"Yes," you said softly, an admission. "But also... for being my friend."

Madam Blainey hurried over eventually and carted you away, cooing over your injuries, admonishing your actions, and Ominis stayed at your side until you drank every last acrid drop of healing potion, and you were fast asleep in the infirmary wards, at peace.

Even though you were silly, frivolous, an oddball who spoke fluent gibberish, he never wanted you to be in such pain again. He certainly couldn't imagine being the cause of it.

Which is why he swore on that day, after the Muggle had long since collapsed on the cellar floor, after his father and mother and brother delighted in his first successful cast of Crucio, that he would never again cause anyone such agony. Least of all you.

So in fourth year, he did his best to ignore you. To create a wide berth. And to find a way to escape his family.

He hung out more with Sebastian, even though his friend was slowly changing, ambitions growing. Both of them were equally matched in many things, like academics and opinions, and with Anne taking suddenly ill, trapped within the bindings of a unknown curse, Sebastian had his own demons about finding her a cure. They explored more outside – the countryside was huge, after all, and Ominis had always found the place intimidating for someone who couldn't see any of it. They lounged in the Undercroft more often – their own hiding spot to where they could escape the stress of school and home life and the increasingly pressing threat of a goblin rebellion. Mostly, Ominis went there to avoid you.

Sebastian quickly noticed you were missing from these adventures, though. Nothing much escaped his notice, even when his sister's illness consumed him – too shrewd to forget the giant girl-shaped gap in their homework brainstorming sessions, or learning questionable jinxes, or snacking on magical sweets. Ominis eventually confessed to what he'd had to do over summer – and what he would do to keep you safe.

"Very noble of you," Sebastian said, the wide, open walls of the Undercroft echoing his voice. "But you didn't have a choice."

"I did." Ominis shot at the dummy, again and again, to channel his frustration. "I chose to hurt that Muggle. I chose to cause them pain. And I couldn't have done it if I didn't want to."

"What else were you supposed to do then? Let your family hurt you again?"

"I should have! What I did to that Muggle... they're probably dead now..."

"Your family would've killed them regardless."

"That doesn't make it better!"

Sebastian yanked Ominis' shoulder, obliging him to stop, to listen. "You're being ridiculous. Your family forced you to hurt that Muggle. Now you're going to self-destruct an entire friendship because of them?"

Anguished panic stripped his insides raw, but he fought to contain it. "If they'll do that to some random person they found on the street, think what they'll do to her! My family isn't like yours, Sebastian. I can't risk Peregrine Malfoy telling on me. I won't."

Sebastian let out a singular, dark chuckle. "Don't you worry about Pretentious Perry. I'll sort him out." He exhaled, softening. "You ignoring Gibby isn't going to do anything but make you both upset. She's tenacious, and too loyal to us. She's just going to keep demanding an explanation until we give her one."

"Then she's going to be disappointed for a long time. Tell her whatever it takes to keep her away from me."

"You can't—" Sebastian let out a frustrated grunt. "You can't make me the mediator between you two."

Ominis turned back to the dummy. "I'm not asking you to. I don't care if you want to be her friend, but I won't. For her sake."

"Yeah? And what about yours?"

Ominis didn't have an answer for that.

He did manage to avoid you all autumn term. An excruciatingly difficult task, because teachers often paired the two of you together now – your chaos matching Ominis' order perfectly well. But he was cold to you, callous when you pried, outright mean when you demanded. You were as tenacious and loyal as Sebastian warned though. No matter what Ominis said, how rude he was, you never gave in.

Eventually the cold shoulder was all he could give emotionally. He was tired of drawing from the hatred that welled inside him, and turning it on you.

Over Christmas that year, Sebastian invited Ominis to stay with his family in Feldcroft, and Ominis agreed. So did the Gaunts, who knew the Sallows, albeit poor, to be a well-bred family, though perhaps less aware of Sebastian's more radical opinions on Muggles and Muggle-borns. It was good to see Anne, too – even sick, weak, body breaking down piece by piece by the curse, she was spirited and stubborn and filled the feminine void that was missing between him and Sebastian.

But she wasn't you. She could never replace you.

"Have you heard from Gibby?" she asked on one of her good days, when Solomon Sallow was mucking out the horses. She was tucked in bed still, wrapped in thick cloths and furs whilst the boys played Gobstones by the foot of her bed. "I miss her enthusiasm for Muggle sweets."

Before Ominis could speak, Sebastian declared, pouring on the smarminess, "They're not talking anymore."

"Oh?" Her curiosity was directed at Ominis. "Why?"

"We fell out," Ominis said through a clenched jaw, hoping his tone was enough to quiet Sebastian. "Nothing else to it."

"You and Gibby? Falling out? What did you do wrong?"

"Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"Because Gibby would sooner stake her own heart than argue with you."

Neither twin pressed, so Ominis didn't answer. Later that week, however, her prodding questions changed to sympathetic disagreement, and he suspected Sebastian gave her enough information to infer his reasoning. Unfortunately, Anne's thoughts on the matter aligned with her brother's, and though she frequently tried to convince Ominis of this fact, most of the time he couldn't stand to listen to it, and he simply walked out of the house.

She would never understand his decision. They did not have his family.

When Ominis returned to Hogwarts for the spring term, however, knowing Anne was partly right about leaving you in this middling state, he resolved no longer to hide behind feeble excuses. Sebastian was slowly seeking solace in the Dark Arts, something Ominis rejected vehemently, but even then there was safety with Sebastian's status that there never was for you.

He had to protect you by any means necessary. That meant it was time to end the friendship for good.

So it wasn't surprising when, on the first day back, he entered the Undercroft and found you standing there.

"Colloportus!"

The lock behind him clicked, the grille sealing shut. This infuriated him to no end – four years and your naivety still preceded you.

"You know I can cast Alohomora—?"

"Expelliarmus!"

The wand flew from his grasp, clattering somewhere to his left.

"That was excessive."

"Was it?" you challenged, coming up to him. Strawberry laces. "You've had the whole of Christmas to think about what a meater you've been, and I'm not going to let you start the silent treatment again."

Meater. Context was a useful thing at filling in Muggle-vocabulary-shaped gaps.

"How did you find this place?" he asked.

"I followed you, last term, when you were not talking to me."

"Why don't, for once, Gibby," he snarled, "you mind your own business?"

"You are my business!" you yelled – and there it was, the first inkling of pain. "Last year you were my best friend. You and Sebastian, and Anne too. Now she's sick and I haven't seen her in months, you refuse to talk to me and Sebastian won't tell me why!"

Ominis pushed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Sebastian had done a terrible job at warding you away. Yes, you had spent more time with other people in your year, like Adelaide and Evangeline and Arthur, and Garreth, Leander and Cressida and even the new girl, Natsai Onai. But still you crawled back to him.

"Like I said, it's not your business."

"I'm not accepting that answer."

"It's the only answer you're getting."

"Is it me?" you flung out. "Did I say something wrong? Did you get fed up with me copying your homework? Or showing Natty around? I know you pretend to despise everyone in that house. Or maybe it's personal? Have I been annoying? Do I smell bad?"

You never smell bad. He opened his hand. "Give my wand back, Gibby."

To your credit, when he asked for the thing that helped him make sense of the world, you retrieved it, no resistance, and placed it into his waiting palm. The brief touch sent a pleasant, unwanted current tingling through his skin.

"Is it family?"

Ominis snatched his hand away. "No."

"It is. It must be. You stayed at Feldcroft all Christmas." You softened. "You know you can tell me anything—"

"Butt out, Gibby."

"Ominis—"

"No. Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once. I'm tired of picking up the pieces after you. I'm tired of your clumsiness and your stupidity. I'm tired of holding your hand and coddling you. This world is cruel, and since you haven't learnt it yet, maybe you will now. You don't need me, and I certainly don't need you. So leave me alone." Then the word slipped out, unbidden. "Mudblood."

Your gasp was drawn out, a long inhale that sucked all the light over an arid horizon. Ominis immediately regretted it. He'd caused that Muggle physical pain, he'd been a silent bystander as you fell off that tree in third year, but emotional pain, the crossing of a line that could never be turned back upon, the shattering of your heart into pieces no spell could mend... that was worse than any Cruciatus Curse.

"T-Take that back," you demanded, holding back a sob. "Y-You take that b-back, right now!"

He didn't. All he did was turn around and cast the Unlocking charm. The grille lifted.

You sniffled. Tears splattered onto the stone. In that moment, your sweetness had been stolen, your brightness dimmed. All because of him.

"You're a beast, Ominis Gaunt," you yelled as the lift churned into motion. "I wish I'd never met you!"

And he left you there, knowing you were right.

[MASTERLIST][NEXT] [Amazing art by Giselann, Divider credit]

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #gibby #acvas #acvasverse #my writing #my stuff #aka the fic where i make ominis suffer for love

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piancqwrites · 4 months ago

Text

Annoying

Synopsis ➸ Ever since you were kids, Kenma Kozume found you annoying. He doesn’t hate you, but he doesn’t particularly like you.

Next Chapter ➸ Part One | Part Two

Tags ➸ Kenma is mean here, the reader is female, Kuroo tries his best, multiple parts

divider by @strangergraphics-archive + @strangergraphics

Her stats are way too high... my shields aren't working...

The volleyball slipped from Kuroo’s small hands, bouncing wildly on the playground before rolling away. It traveled with surprising speed, disappearing around the corner of the school building. The sound of the ball hitting the pavement echoed through the playground, drawing everyone’s attention.

"I'll go get it!" you shouted, already chasing after the ball with your tiny legs pumping hard. Your sneakers slapped against the ground as you ran, your pigtails bouncing behind you. The afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light, and the scent of freshly mowed grass filled the air. The playground was full of children's laughter and the squeak of swings, the soft buzz of summer that wrapped around the school like a blanket.

"Thank you!" Kuroo called out, his grin wide and toothy. He was still missing a front tooth, which only made his smile more endearing.

As you disappeared around the corner, he turned to Kenma, who was sitting on a nearby bench with his handheld game console. "So, what do you think of her, Kenma?"

Kenma barely glanced up from his game, his fingers deftly pressing the buttons. The soft beeps and boops from his PSP filled the silence. His cat-like eyes were narrowed in concentration, reflecting the bright screen of his console. The sun cast a soft glow on his pale skin.

"I don't like her," he muttered, his eyes never leaving the screen. His face was scrunched up in concentration, a look of intense focus that was common for him. "She's just so... annoying."

Kuroo sighed, leaning back on the bench and kicking his legs out. He looked over at Kenma with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You know, she’s not that bad. Maybe if you tried talking to her more…" He swung his legs, the movement a restless expression of his energy. His hair, always unruly, fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away with a careless swipe.

Kenma snorted, finally looking up at Kuroo with a flat expression. "Why? She talks enough for both of us." His words were blunt, but his tone wasn’t mean—just matter-of-fact, like he was stating the obvious. He glanced briefly in the direction you had gone, his eyes flicking back to his game almost instantly.

The sun caught the amber in his eyes, making them glint momentarily.

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe you just need to give her a chance. Who knows, you might actually like her."

Kenma’s lips twitched into a brief smirk. "Doubt it," he said, returning to his game with a slight roll of his eyes. His fingers moved deftly over the console, the game absorbing him once more.

Moments later, you reappeared with the volleyball, your cheeks still flushed from your sprint. You dropped back onto the bench next to Kenma with a relieved sigh, the ball empty from your hands as you passed the ball back to Kuroo.

He returned to the playground while you remained on the bench, beside Kenma, alone.

The sun had begun its descent, casting long, golden shadows that stretched across the playground, creating a warm, tranquil ambiance.

Kenma, absorbed in his handheld game console, barely acknowledged your return. The screen's faint glow illuminated his face, highlighting his intense focus as his thumbs moved swiftly over the buttons. The beeps and whirs of the game created a soft, rhythmic background noise that seemed to separate him from the lively surroundings.

You turned to him, eager to engage in conversation. “Hey, Kenma,” you said with a bright, cheerful tone, “do you think we could play together later? I’d love to practice some new techniques with you. What do you think?”

Kenma barely registered your words, his concentration firmly locked on his game. He was in the middle of an intense level, where every move required precision and focus.

Your voice cut through his concentration like an unwelcome intrusion.

You continued, not noticing the growing tension in Kenma’s demeanor. “I’ve been working on my serve a lot. It’s not perfect yet, but I think with a bit more practice, it could be really good. Even Kuroo said so... and I was also thinking about trying out some new video games. They seem like a lot of fun. Do you have any recommendations?”

Kenma’s patience began to wear thin as the steady stream of your questions and comments seemed to invade his personal space.

The rhythmic beeps and whirs of his game became increasingly drowned out by your incessant talking.

Each time you spoke, it pulled him further away from the virtual world he was so engrossed in. His fingers moved mechanically over the console, but his frustration was mounting.

He tried to focus on the game, but the growing pressure of your voice eroded his ability to concentrate. The bright screen, once a source of escape, now felt like a barrier between him and the increasingly irritating reality. His brow furrowed as he struggled to block out the constant stream of chatter.

Game Over.

“Can you just—” Kenma snapped, his voice sharp and edged with frustration. “Why do you keep bothering me? You keep talking and talking, asking questions, and giving opinions. It’s like you don’t know when to stop.”

His outburst cut through the warm atmosphere of the afternoon, the tension palpable as his irritation became the center of attention. The playground’s lively sounds seemed to fade into the background as your face fell, the playful energy you had been trying to project replaced by a look of hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to cause—”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Kenma’s words were harsher than he intended, his frustration manifesting in a painful burst of honesty. “You’re such a nuisance.”

Your face flushed with a mix of shock and pain. You fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “I just remembered that I have some homework that I didn’t finish... tell Kuroo that, yeah?”

With that, you swallowed the words stuck at the edge of your throat, the sting of Kenma’s harshness too much to bear.

Tears began to spill over as you hurriedly grabbed your things.

You avoided Kenma’s gaze, your movements hurried and fraught with emotion as you fled the playground, leaving behind the warmth of the afternoon sun and the echo of his hurtful words.

Kenma watched you leave, the immediate release of his frustration giving way to a crushing wave of regret.

The virtual worlds on his console felt empty now, their appeal diminished by the weight of his own guilt.

The playground’s vibrant energy seemed distant and muted, the golden light casting long shadows over the path you had taken.

Kenma watched you leave, the immediate release of his frustration giving way to a crushing wave of regret. He clenched his handheld game console, the once comforting device now a reminder of his harsh words. The vibrant sounds of the playground faded into a distant hum as he sat there, the weight of his actions settling heavily on his shoulders.

He glanced down at his game, the familiar screen now dim and lifeless. With a sigh, Kenma turned it off, slipping it into his pocket.

Kenma needed to apologize. He knew that.

But after that day, he never got the chance.

#haikyuu #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma #kuroo testuro #nekoma #karasuno #haikyu #volleyball

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kuroppiii · 5 months ago

Note

HI HIHIII!! i have a silly request if you dont mind ×_×

there are a few haikyuu boys with longer hair (kenma, bokuto(?) etc.) and i wanted to see some reactions if gn!reader were to put pigtails in their hair heheheh

idk if this is more of headcanons than a drabble but youre the writer so please choose what u think is right T_T

fluff pleaseee >3< thats it!!!! cheers ro!!! laters!!!!

- 🍸 (begging for this emoji pretty pretty please with a huge cherry on top)

hairdresser ᵕ̈ hq boys ( kenma , bokuto , kuroo , sakusa , asahi , yamaguchi , suna ) x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : putting long-haired ⋮⋮ hq boys in pigtails

📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛 ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛 ♡ # ~3.4𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 ♡ # 𝘤𝘸 : 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘶'𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ hello my new 🍸 anon (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ this idea is SO CUTE tysm for suggesting it . sorry it took a bit but i did both hcs and drabbles , just for you xoxo ”

︴kozume kenma ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

he doesn't know why you want to but he lets you anyway

i'd say, in high school at least, he doesn't really put his hair up (obvi since he doesn't do it during matches) because he doesn't know how he feels about how it makes him look in public

but when he's at home he'll def put it up if it's getting in his way of his video games

he actually has hairties strewn about his room, but for some reason they're like all different brands lol

"sometimes i run out and just grab the first one i see getting off the train."

you grab one that's hanging off the corner of his pc

"pfft didn't know you liked kuromi like that"

"oh that... that actually came from a set with a my mel tie..."

so OF COURSE you track down the my melody pair and start to comb through his blonde hair

he plays a game but asks you what his next moves should be in-game now and then to stay engaged with you, as you sit behind him and pigtail his hair

tbh i think his hair would feel dead af from the bleach as you style it but its ok you still love him!!!

"okay, done!" you open up your phone camera and hold it out in front of kenma. he quickly pauses his game and lightly grasps your hand holding the phone as he checks himself out.

"hm... i look ridiculous," he chuckles, "i look like a 5-year-old girl."

"yeah i don't think kuromi and my mel are helping with that, either," you joke. kenma shakes his head around for the two pigtails to swing about his head, the little character charms on the hairties clinking about and making you burst out in laughter. you try to line up your phone to take a picture of him, but he catches you in the act.

he gently swats your arm away and swaps the phone in your hand with his hand in the process, "babe, noo."

"just one? please?" you pry.

he shakes his head and takes your hand up to his lips, kissing it but mumbling out against it a firm...

"no."

"ken."

his eyes are still glued to the screen...

"no."

"with a cherry on top?"

he turns and leaves a quick kiss on your lips, looking into your eyes before whispering...

"no."

despite all his protests, though, rest assured you walked away that night with a new photo in your favorites album: kenma covering his face with his controller with the purple and pink sanrio bunnies holding up two blonde pigtails on the top of his head.

but that was inevitable, he could never resist his baby for too long.

︴bokuto kōtarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

"anything you want babe!!"

anything to spend time with his favorite person

theres too much fucking gel in his hair so you send him to the bathroom to water it down a bit

he comes out with his hair all wet and dripping and over his eyes screaming

"um, kō... did you even dry your- your hair...? baby it's getting all over the floor"

"oh! oh yeah, sorry about that babe, i'll do that right now for you"

but you see a glint in his pretty golden eyes

the fucking brat

he shakes his head like a dog, hitting you with water and you squeal at him to "go use a towel, idiot!"

nonetheless, once you put him in pigtails, he takes a look at the grey and black sprigs coming out from his head in the reflection of his phone screen and can't help but let out a hearty laugh

"this is great y/n, do another one on me, wouldy'a?"

"wait, really?"

"yes! plus, you like this stuff, right? if you're having fun then make me beautiful, beautiful."

he lets you take a few pictures before you hand him your phone to look for other hairstyles, & he takes the phone with a quick kiss to your lips

he scrolls on your phone trying to find a new hairstyle to have you do as you start undoing the ponytails on his head. his hair dried a bit while the pigtails were in, so you run your hand through his hair and ruffle it up a little bit to get rid of the indent the hairties made.

"oh! what about this one," bokuto beams, holding up a pinterest pin of a manbun, "do you think i got enough hair for you to do it?"

you take your phone back to get a better look at it as bokuto tries to gather up as much of his hair in his two hands and hold it up in an... attempt at a manbun.

you look at him and feel laughter bubble up in your chest, but you manage to make out a, "well we can certainly try, kō."

"really? can we?" he smiles at you. you nod and bokuto dives in to kiss you through your giggling. after a moment, you feel the still-damp ends of his hair fall to brush against your forehead, as his hands go from holding his makeshift manbun up to gently holding the face of his one and only love.

︴kuroo tetsurō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

yeah no this loser definitely has a thing when it comes to people touching his hair

like a DEFENSIVE thing bc no one can convince me it's NOT the longest part of his morning routine

so it takes some convincing but he finally caves bc it's you the love of his life

"fine! but just this once!"

once again, gotta water down the gel

but this time he's like,,, weirdly embarrassed?? and shy?? and cute?? about the fact you're seeing him with his hair wet and undone like this

"baby you cannot tell anyone you saw me like this"

"aww but tetsu you look just as handsome like that"

"ok so we're lying now, i see how it is"

so you sit crossed-legged in front of each other on the floor, and you have him hold the comb and hairties

he sits there all pouty as he has to bend down a bit for you to reach his hair bc he's so tall end me

NO PICTURES!!! the bastard even tries to hide your phone

"tetsu! give it back!" you complain. you've crawled into his lap and yet his arm still holds your phone too high up and out of your reach. "i swear i won't post it anywhere–just one picture, please?"

"absolutely not!" he says through a chuckle. he cranes his neck up and uses your phone to look at his own reflection. he groans at the sight of his spikey locks sticking out from the two pigtails on his head.

"babe," he whines, "this is really messing with my self image."

"yeah right, as if the rest of you isn't literally perfect."

"not true! as long as my hair is concerned right now. but y'know what?" he finally brings your phone back down to his side but holds the side of your face with his free hand.

"what," you deadpan, before trying to quickly grab your phone back. but to your dismay, he holds it out behind his back and out of your reach once again as he continues.

"i'd feel a bit better if i could get a kiss. just a little one," he mumbles with that shit-eating grin you can't help but love, "who knows, maybe i'll feel so much better that i can give your phone back."

"and let me take a picture?" you ask hopefully.

he looks into your eyes and starts to caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, "well... that might depend on how good this kiss goes, yeah?"

least to say you got your photo, and then some other perks while you were at it.

︴sakusa kiyoomi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

"omi, i don't think i've ever seen you with your hair up–"

"i put it up when i have to clean."

"oh right!"

you just never noticed because he wears a little bandana on top of it too cutie pie

but when you ask to put his curls in two little pigtails it takes a little bit of convincing

no one's ever really touched his hair before

he's the biggest sucker for you though so eventually he lets you have your way with him

and surprisingly, he feels so loved having his hair played with by your beautiful self and you just look so cute as you do it and you talk to him about the most generic things that this guy starts to get antsy

like i'm talking hands all over your legs and waist as you're sitting in front of him and as he's starting at you with literal heart eyes

he just needs to hold you you're so adorable to him rn

you can really see his two beauty marks with his hair pulled up and you give them a little kiss when you're finished

"look at him komori," you coo, facing sakusa's phone camera toward him with his cousin on the other end of the line. you had called komori to show off your work, but sakusa couldn't care less as he clings to you now that you're finally finished doing his hair.

"wow cous', this is definitely a new look for you," the brunette giggles through the phone. sakusa tries to hide his face in your neck and groans,

"don't you have anything better to do, motoya? bye."

and with that, sakusa takes hold of your hand and hangs up the call on his phone.

"i quite like it, omi! your cousin agrees with me too," you tease. sakusa can't help but chuckle lightly as his arms wrap around your torso tighter. you can feel the smile creep onto his lips against the skin of your collarbone.

"yeah, whatever. we can do this more often, i guess," he sighs, "the you-playing-with-my-hair thing, not the my-cousin-being-involved thing, mind you."

︴azumane asahi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

omg shut up i will always have a soft spot for this man

ofc since his hair is very much on the long side, he already puts his hair up in a simple ponytail or the occasional manbun from time to time

so yes he agrees to the idea when you bring it up, even if it’s a different style than he’s accustomed to

he didn't think it was gonna be that much of a big deal, after all, he's tied his own hair thousands of times

what he didn’t realize, however, is how different the experience is when you’re the one combing your hands through his hair MMMM

he's absolute putty in your hands shut upppp

deliberately pulls out some strands so you have to sit there and play with his hair longer

"love i think you missed a spot."

"i literally saw you pull that piece out."

he’s between your legs on the floor as you sit on the couch, the volleyball highlights he was watching on his phone still running but now long-forgotten. he uncontrollably tilts his head back with every move you make as you run your hands along his hair, parting it and smoothing it down where necessary.

“‘sahi stop moving,” you giggle. all he can do is hum in bliss as you try to get his hair together amidst him leaning into your touch every other second.

"love, is the first one done yet?" he asks innocently, eyes closed, as if his scheming hasn't costed you an extra 20 minutes or so trying to fix his hair up.

"just keep watching your highlights and keep your head still!" you plea with a hairtie between your teeth, finally managing to gather one half of his hair into a ponytail. and just as you were ready to stretch the hairtie out and make the first loop around the bunch of wavy brown hair that you had in your hand, asahi just so happens to readjust how he's sitting beneath you, making some locks fall out from your grasp.

"asahi!" you let go off the hair and draw out a frustrated sigh. you can hear him chuckle as he leans his head against your thigh, turning his head to look up at you.

his hand is already guiding your dejected one back towards his hair, "oops, sorry angel. i guess you'll have to start all over again."

︴yamaguchi tadashi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

how could he ever say no to you

i think esp senior captain!tadashi started on the habit of tying his hair back for games hot, so he actually does have a few hair ties on hand

but if you use hairties you KNOW he keeps some of yours on his own wrist in case you ever need one (🤭), even if not using them on your own hair like right now

he’s very well behaved as he sits on the toilet seat while you stand in front of him between his legs and get to work

the little piece of hair that sticks out from the top of his head is a pain in the ass tho

every time you think you've successfully smoothed it down, it springs back up again

meanwhile to pass the time, his hands rest on your hips as he asks you about your day, about what shows you’ve been watching recently—anything under the sun

"what happened then? tell me more sweetheart."

in the lulls of your conversation you can feel his thumbs lovingly glide back and forth along your hips im dying i love him

you stand behind yamaguchi in the cramped bathroom, him hunched over the sink as he observes himself and the new look you’ve given him.

you watch him through the mirror as he holds back a smile. his hand reaches about to touch the points at which the tips of his olive hear sprig out from the pigtails of your doing, his stomach peeking out from his worn out white tshirt as it lifts a little at the careful movements he makes.

he finally breaks the silence “yeah… i wouldn’t go out like this anytime soon.”

the two of you can’t help but burst out in laughter, at how ridiculous he looks and the ridiculous way you two have just passed the evening. the sound echoes along the tiled walls of the bathroom.

as your laughter dies down, yamaguchi turns and wraps those same arms that were poking at the pigtails in his hair, around your waist.

he pulls you close, “but they look good, love. maybe just not for me."

you look up at him and he swears he can see a universe of stars in your eyes, "you really think so tada? they were kind of rushed..."

"of course!" he leans his forehead to yours and touches his nose to yours, "maybe we can open a hair salon for you to hone your skills."

his comment makes you giggle, and he can't help but lean in closer to give your smiling lips a quick peck.

︴suna rintarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

you knew the only way you could achieve getting pigtails on this guy was by ambushing him

"zzz.."

so as he's dozed off on the bed, you slowly maneuver your way behind him

mf's a heavy sleeper so you eventually realize you actually don't have to be super gentle as you pull his hair into two little ponytails

his hair's already parted down the middle so it's pretty easy

goddamn is his hair silky smooth

you gotta ask for what products he uses bc holy shit why's he been gatekeeping them from you

i feel like his hair is long enough that actually they kind of sag down once you put them up in little curves coming out the top of his head like a bunny!!

but just as you're looping the hairtie one more time around the second pigtail, you accidentally pull on it a bit too hard and it quickly snaps against the top of his head ouch lmao

suna groans as he starts to shift and stir awake at the feeling of his head getting bonked. you have to restrain yourself from laughing as he absent-mindedly reaches back to see who it is that woke him up from his nap, hand slowly patting down your side. even through his sleepy haze, he can tell it's you and he lightly hums in contentment before turning around and engulfing you in his arms.

"sorry, rin, i didn't mean to wake you," you whisper.

for a brief moment as he's cuddling into you, he opens an eye to see your face. though you were trying hard to contain them, your laughter starts to escape between your upturned lips and suna's brows furrow in confusion. what's so funny?

he leans back again to find his phone on the bedside table and you watch as he catches a glimpse of his new hairdo before he can check the time.

all you hear is him mumbling something along the lines of, "you're something else," before he's plopping his phone down onto the sheets and he's tucking his head under your chin.

the two pigtails tickle your face like feathers as your ears begin to pick up on the sound of light snores as suna peacefully dozes off once again.

︴oikawa tōru ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

i also think he has really silky hair duh but he's definitely shared what products he uses with you

in fact he asks that you use some of the products from his bathroom when you tie his hair

"gotta do these locks justice, baby."

the whole time he's got a little smile on his face, mf is having the time of his life–getting his hair done and being close with the most precious person in the world to him? uhhh YES

he highkey whines about you pulling at his hair tho

"owwiee"

"oh suck it up tōru."

offers to do your hair as well crying

very gentle as he combs through your hair, too!! shit's calming asf, him humming a little tune as you tell him about your day and he lovingly runs his hands through your hair

when he's done doing your hair you take selfies together on his phone

definitely makes one of them his new phone background

pigtails out of yours and oikawa's hair, you're cleaning up the products and hairties scattered across the bedsheets when you accidently brush over the screen of oikawa's phone. the screen lights up with one of the photos you just took with him: you both winking at the camera with pigtails sticking out from the tops of your heads. there's some digital stickers he selected scattered about the photo, as well (a lot of hearts and flowers). he's in another room getting the two of you a snack.

"tōru! can you come over here real quick?"

you hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps as he rushes back to you with chips and drink cans in his hands, "what's up, precious?"

his phone in your hand, you hold it up to him for the screensaver to appear again, "are you serious? did you have to pick this one?"

at that instant he doubles over in laughter, so much so he embraces his arms around your head and falls onto the mattress again, making you both lay down next to each other. he moves his hands to hold your face, "what, why such the long face? you don't like it?"

"no... it's just that everyone who picks up your phone is gonna see it now," you explain, starting to laugh yourself because this boy's laugh is irresistibly contagious.

he leans in to give butterfly kisses to your nose, "yeah, that's kind of the point my love. want everyone to know how happy i am when i'm with you. don't we look so happy in that picture?"

you roll your eyes and reach up to play with his hair again as you two lay there in love, "i guess. but i can't believe you look better in pigtails than i do!"

"i look good a lot of the time," he jokes. his eyes drift down to your lips and after a beat, he presses his lips to yours briefly.

"but not even i can be more beautiful as you are all of the time."

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