continuing onto the next morning…from Tony’s perspective
Notes: Thank you all so much for the love! I really enjoy writing these chapters! Ch2 is all about introducing some characters, and setting up for a possible single Tony in the
near future…because, well, we need that in our lives ;)
He was vaguely aware that it was morning, sunlight
streaming in through the window and falling against his closed eyelids. He took
a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed, enjoying the subtle weight of Clay’s head
still resting on his chest. The quiet rhythm of Clay’s breathing telling him
that Clay was still asleep.
He hadn’t realized how tired Clay had been yesterday, but
he had fallen asleep not halfway into the movie, not much past 9pm. For as long
as he’d known Clay, he knew him to be a bit of a night owl, so the early night
had surprised him almost as much as the cuddling. Almost.
Not that he didn’t enjoy having his arms wrapped around
Clay, but he had to ask himself what it meant? As far as he knew Clay had been
in love with Hannah. But there had been those rumors in 9th grade
that Clay liked men…he had tried not to get his hopes up back then, figuring they
were just rumors at the time. He tried telling himself that now too. All just rumors, and rumors had a dark
history in their lives…
After all, he was with Brad, and Clay was probably just
overly tired; he tried convincing himself. It had been hard for him to pull
Clay in with just one arm, however. It felt so good to be next to him. It had
felt even better when Clay leaned his body into him. He had allowed himself to
lean his head down and ruffle Clay’s hair with his nose, just for a moment,
when he was fairly certain that Clay had drifted off, taking in his slightly
musky scent mixed with shampoo.
He had always tried his best to never make his friend feel
uncomfortable, taking care that any touch was always welcome or initiated by
Clay. But they had known each other for a long time, so it was only natural
that they stood or walked closer to one another compared to other people, wasn’t
Brad wasn’t so
easily convinced. He was always saying he and Clay were ‘pretty close’ and that
they fought like an old married couple. It was a recurring theme in their
arguments as of late.
Thinking of Brad, he felt a heaviness in his chest that had
nothing to do with the weight of Clay’s head. He sighed, he had to meet Brad
later at Monet’s for yet another ‘talk’. Brad, who had once been so comforting
and supportive, especially when he had finally broken down and told him about
the tapes, was acting differently. Lately he could tell there was something on
Brad’s mind, and Brad was putting off talking about it. Instead, Brad seemed to
be picking fights about random things. He tried to shake off the feeling of
dread by shaking his head and opening his eyes.
He was just in time to catch sight of his mother rounding
“Hola mi hijo, you’re up early,” she said greeting him with
a smile. “Do you and Clay want some breakfast?”
“Sure mama, thank you. We got to sleep pretty early, what
time is it now?” he answered, searching for the clock even as he asked.
“Oh, about 6 dear. And I know, I came in and you all were
snoring away. I collected your father and put a blanket on you two. I didn’t
want to wake you, Clay looked so pale and tired at dinner I felt it best to just
let him rest,” she said knowingly with a nod of her head.
He looked down noticing for the first time the blanket. “Thank
you, ma, I’ll get up in a minute and help you with breakfast.” When he looked
back up he saw his mother walking away, giving him a slight wave as an indication
that she had heard him.
He looked down at Clay’s reclined body and reached up to
comb his fingers through his hair. After a few passes through, he heard a
change in Clay’s breathing and noticed the stirrings of Clay waking up.
“Morning sleepyhead,” he said quietly, softly raking his
fingers down the back of Clay’s slender neck.
“Mmm, morning,” Clay replied. Clay pushed into his hand
slightly for a moment, then began to sit up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Oh
man, I was really out of it, sorry about that.”
“No worries man. You needed some rest, nothing to apologize for,” he replied, taking stock of Clay’s still sleepy eyes, lingering on his
“No, I mean I’m sorry for drooling on your shirt,” Clay
said, pointing towards his chest.
He looked down to assess the damage when suddenly Clay’s outstretched
finger bopped him in the nose.
“Ha, gotcha! You gotta be faster than that in the morning,”
Clay said laughing, dodging as he swiped at him with a fist.
“Haha, I shouldn’t worry about you if you’re cracking corny
jokes! C’mon, let’s go get some
breakfast,” he said, already getting up from the couch and stretching. He felt
his back release a few pops and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey Tony, I AM sorry about that. You could have moved me,
I was dead to the world I probably wouldn’t have even noticed.”
“I was asleep to, I didn’t even hear everyone else get
home,” he said, which was true. Maybe he had needed a quiet night in just as
much as Clay did. They made their way into the kitchen where they could smell
the delicious aroma of scrambled eggs.
The three were
finishing clearing the table of their small but hearty breakfast of eggs with
vegetables and salsa, when his father rounded the corner.
“Ah, early risers on a Saturday, what’s the plan for the
day boys?” He said as he made a B-line for the coffee maker, kissing his wife
on the way and accepting her offering of leftovers from breakfast.
“Well, I’ve got a shift at 10 at the movie theater,” Clay
said, standing at the counter waiting to dry the dishes Tony was washing and
“I’m meeting Brad for coffee later, then I’ll be by the
shop,” he said, sneaking a sideways glance at Clay. He couldn’t say why, but he
wanted to see if Clay had a reaction to his boyfriend’s name. He didn’t seem
“Mmm, you guys still
doing that? You don’t seem to spend much time together anymore.”
“Dad!” he said with a tilt of his head and an annoyed
glance in his direction, despite his dad clearly not paying attention. However,
he noticed that Clay’s head had shot up at his dad’s statement. He licked his
lips and continued with a shrug, “I dunno, all he wants to do lately is argue
without saying what’s really bothering him.”
His dad seemed to think on it a bit while he sipped his
coffee. “Well, everyone disagrees and argues, it’s part of life. He’ll tell you
what’s wrong when he’s ready, you just have to be patient.”
“So wise, mi corazon,” his mother said, giving his dad a
pat on the cheek and a kiss. She turned back to him and said, “Before you run
off, mi hijo, would you mind running these plates back to Mara? I’ve got to
leave for work or I’ll be late!” She gestured to a stack of three blue plates
on the island counter and turned to leave. “Oh, and don’t forget to invite her
to the neighborhood barbeque next weekend!”
“Of course, ma,” he said, handing off the last dish to Clay.
“We got a new neighbor last week and ma just had to have her over to meet
everyone. You wanna go with me and then I can give you a lift home?”
“Sure, sounds good!” Clay said, hanging the dish towel.
“You might like her, she reminds me a bit of Skye.”
“You mean scary?” Clay replied, making him and his dad
snort with laughter, “Not really my type. I just make an exception for Skye
because we were friends when we were kids.”
“Skye’s not that bad,” he tried to say nicely.
His dad laughed, “Skye has nothing on Mara as far as scary
goes. And watch out for the dog.”
“Dog?!” Clay said apprehensively.
“It’s fine, she’s not that bad, you’ll be fine,” he said,
laughing to try and lighten the mood.
“Mmhmm, well just be careful, you don’t have that kind of
dog unless you’ve got something to guard. Girl can take care of herself though,
I’ll give her that. Tried to show her some self-defense moves since this isn’t the
best part of town, she nearly knocked me out! In my own backyard!” his dad said,
shaking his head, making Clay look concerned.
“Really, she’s not that bad,” he said, trying to be
reassuring. He grabbed the plates and headed towards the door with Clay in tow.
“Oh,” he said turning to meet Clay’s gaze, “whatever you do though, don’t try
and touch the dog, he doesn’t like it.” He walked quickly again, not giving
Clay a chance to back out.
They crossed the street and took a right, Mara was renting
2 houses down. He spared a glance at Clay, who looked a little nervous. “She
really is great, I don’t think she’s hiding anything,” he said, trying again to
Clay looked at him like he didn’t believe him, then said, “Actually,
I’m thinking about the dog…I’ve gotten chased by a lot of them on my bike. The
Clark’s down the street from me have
this collie…” he trailed off, raising his hands in question.
“Ooh,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod, “that
makes sense then why you always take the long way to get to your house.” Clay
shot him a surprised look, but they were at the driveway. He stopped and put
his hand out so Clay was stopped on the sidewalk instead of going up the drive.
The garage door was open and he knew from experience owner and dog were bound
to be close by.
“Mara!” he called, ignoring Clay’s questioning look, he
would find out soon enough.
“Hey Tony!” came a voice from the backyard. “I’ll be right
As they waited, Tony tried to read Clay’s face. Mara was blonde
haired and blue eyed, covered in colorful tattoos, and from his brother’s
reactions to her, very easy on the eyes. Again though, he had trouble reading
Clay’s response. The wide eyes could have been for her or the giant black
mastiff at her side. He frowned slightly, wondering why he cared so much all
the sudden who Clay found attractive. He turned towards the pair coming towards
them. The dog was quite a sight, he wasn’t sure of the breed as his owner had
only vaguely admitted that he was a mixed breed, but he was sure that mastiff
had to be mixed in somewhere.
“My mom wanted me to return these to you, and to make sure
again that you know about the barbeque,” he said with a slight roll of his
eyes. It had become a bit of a joke between them as his mom had invited her no
less than 15 times already.
“Haha, well thank you and tell her I’ll definitely be there
with some more dessert,” she said as she accepted the plates with a mock bow.
“Will do,” he said with a nod, the he gestured to Clay, “This
is my friend Clay by the way. Clay, Mara. Mara, Clay.”
“Nice to meet you,” Clay said as he nervously shot his hand
out towards her, earning himself a warning growl from the giant opposite him.
Clay immediately retracted the hand, instead grabbing Tony’s arm and stepping
in closer. He could feel Clay pressed at his side and it was quite distracting,
so much so that he almost forgot Mara was there.
“Sorry about that, he’s not very trusting of strangers,”
Mara said, setting a warning hand on the dog’s back. “This is Lewis, by the way. He’s great once
you get to know him, but very protective.”
“It’s ok, Clay’s just had some run-ins with dogs on his bike,
you know how it goes. And Lewis is a pretty big dog.”
“Oh yes, Lewis loves to chase things. I’d tell you not to
run if he comes after you, but either way would end badly,” she said glancing
at the dog. “So, Tony,” she continued with a swat to his other arm, “no more
Brad then huh?” Indicating Clay’s hand, still on his arm and seemingly reluctant
to let go.
“Oh, no, uh, Clay really is my friend, we had a movie night
last night and I’m giving him a ride after this. I’m meeting Brad for coffee in
a bit,” he tried to look excited at the thought.
“Oooh, ok,” she said, a knowing look in her eye as she
looked at him. “Well I hope it goes well, you should come by after.”
“Thanks, I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Ok, well bye boys. Nice to meet you Clay! Hope to see you
at the barbeque!” she said as she turned, dog in tow.
“Nice to meet you too,” Clay said from beside him.
“Dude, that dog is huge,” Clay said as soon as they had
crossed the street.
“I told you. So, what did you think of Mara?” he asked.
“She seems nice, despite being utterly crazy for having a
dog like that,” Clay responded with a shrug.
“You don’t think she’s, I dunno, pretty?”
“I really wasn’t paying attention, dude, a little busy
trying not to become a hell hound’s next meal! Uh, I like her tattoos though,
they remind me of yours.”
He was glad Clay wasn’t looking at him because he had
broken into a smile. That had to be good if Clay met someone attractive and
thought of him…Right?
Listen... I'm gonna need you to write boxer Harry like it's really hot when he boxes! Plus your writing is amazing and you write him really well!!
The idea of a fuck against a dirty, grimy mat shouldn’t be so hot. And yet… *combusts into flames*. I spewed this really quickly super late last night and early this morning, so you know… it’s not art, but it fits that need. (ALSO, if you’re looking for a cute thing, go check out @tayloralisonstyles13 – she wrote a blurb yesterday that I reblogged somewhere that hit me right in the weak from boxer Harry feels.)
Um, there’s like… 2 mentions of “Daddy” in here, so sorry if that ruins it. It’s not really the kink, per se, it’s just him being a smarmy bastard. x.
032. Fight Me
Harry had warned you as the two of you strapped your gloves
on tightly that he wouldn’t take it easy on you just because he loves you. He’d
buttoned the promise with a tender kiss, though, and a soft tap of your gloves,
so you’d thought he was just puffing himself up like the man that he is when
he’s not being soft and fluffy at home and bullying his way into relaxing with
his head on your lap after a long day of writing and arguing about trumpets or
There’s nothing easy
or even remotely kind about this,
though. You lean back to dodge a swipe of his gloved hand and dart in to land
yours against his ribs. He wheezes but you know you haven’t hurt him because he
keeps his eyes locked on you with a burning intensity, the forest green of them
on fire with concentration.
If you're still taking them. In the moment kiss for either Kevin x Allison or jerejean? :) your writing always makes me smile so much. :) 💕💕
Aww, thank you! I went with Jerejean because I don’t think I can do Kevin/Allison justice. I hope you enjoy!
In Jean’s opinion, it was an objective fact that Jeremy Knox was beautiful. Even before the Trojans, before any of it, Jean had been entranced. He supposed it was a matter of those kept in darkness being attracted to the light, or something equally as poetic and disgusting. He knew Kevin felt the same way, but the difference between them was that Jean knew it was dangerous to stare at the sun too long and he wasn’t about to go blind. Jeremy was a dream, one Jean couldn’t afford to get wrapped up in.
When Jean arrived at USC, he found that like most things, the real Jeremy was nothing like he imagined. He was stubborn and anxious and wanted to be liked so badly. And Jean pushed and pushed him but Jeremy refused to pull and eventually something snapped between them and Jean found himself falling headlong into Jeremy.
So now, here he was, face to face with broken, beautiful Jeremy and Jean was lost.
“Jean? Have you heard anything I’ve said?”
Jean looked up and smirked. “To be honest, I was staring at the crumb stuck at the corner of your lip.” He reached over to wipe it away with his thumb and Jeremy blushed.
Jean didn’t feel like disclosing that that wasn’t entirely true and that he was staring at Jeremy’s lips for completely different reasons. They were in an odd place in their friendship where they knew they liked each other and flirted constantly, but neither of them were willing to take the final step.
Jeremy grinned and stepped closer to Jean so that he was looking up at him, chest to chest. Jean looked down to meet his gaze, only to have Jeremy reach his hand up to poke his nose.
“Gotcha,” he said, wide smile splitting his face.
Jean knew it was his turn in their game and that he should do something silly, like throw Jeremy over his shoulder or reach out to tickle him or something, but without thinking, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Jeremy’s. He was about to pull away and apologize, when Jeremy pressed up on his toes to meet him and Jean deepened the kiss. Jeremy let out a little contented sigh against his lips and Jean felt his heart thump against his chest.
He grabbed Jeremy’s hand, who promptly laced their fingers together, and led him to the bed so they were sitting facing each other. Jeremy leaned in to kiss him again, but Jean put a hand on his chest to stop him.
“Tell me you want this,” Jean said, forehead pressed against Jeremy’s.
“Jean…of course I want this.” Jean looked down and Jeremy tipped his head up. “You deserve to be happy, Jean. It’s okay. I’m right here and I really want you to kiss me again.”
Jean leaned in again and held himself a breath away from Jeremy’s lips for a long moment before closing the gap and kissing him again. Jeremy wrapped his arms around him and it felt like a promise.
Kai: would look at you sort of shocked but then starts laughing sort of looking at you like “what the heck” but instead of saying anything he would just pet your hair and chuckle before looking back at the t.v. wiping the saliva off the side of his face shaking his head.
Suho: would look at you covering his wrist where you playfully bit him before you swiftly lean over and lick him from his chin to his forehead he would lean back startled and then getting up and walking off just sort of confused as to what just happened you would reach after him but know he would be back soon enough because he loves you.
Xiumin: would look at you sternly before he starts laughing uncontrollably not really knowing how to react to what just happened but he would find it cute that you are pining for his attention even though it was sort of a weird way to get it.
(His smile gives me life)
Sehun: would chuckle and lean over and lightly bite your cheek like “noooooo stooop iiiiiiiit” you would just chuckle and lean over again to lick his nose before getting up and running away playfully, he would chase after you before catching up to you and tickling you.
Lay: would look up at sort of smacking his cheek worried as to why you just licked his cheek you would just laugh walking off he would follow after you asking why you just licked him you would just go about your day like nothing happened even though Lay would keep asking you why.
D.O.: would look at you like”uhhhhh what?” and then ask “can I help you with something?” you would just look back at him awkwardly blushing before burying your face in a pillow, he would lift your chin up and touch his tongue to the tip of your nose. “I gotcha jagi” he would say, laughing.
Chanyeol: would lean over to you and tickle you before licking your nose and getting up, running off playfully, “catch me if you can jagiya” he would say, giggling. You would just look at him in shock “Oh how the tables have turned” he would yell behind him with you hot in pursuit.
Baekhyun: would start it all biting your cheek, “oh hoho two can play at this game oppa” you would say, chuckling before licking his face and biting his chin before getting up and running off, “oh you” he would say running after you.
(UGH HES JUST TOO ADORABLE I CANT SOMETIMES)
Chen: would look at you shocked wiping off his face. “Why would you do that jagi” he would say pouting, “because you need to be less afraid of germs oppa” you would say hugging him and chuckling, he would just shake his head and nestle his face in your hair.
Hello guys! Key’sDivaTwin and I (BangtanBunnie) really enjoyed this request, she wrote it but unfortunately while we were working on it as a draft, she’s gotten ill. So she asked me to find the gifs to go along with it. Let’s wish her a speedy recovery and to be back on her feet soon <3
Hope you all enjoyed! (Oh and excuse my mini commentaries on a couple of the gifs!)
I've Got a Bad Case of Lovin' You (Kyungjeong one-shot)
Title: I’ve Got a Bad Case of Lovin’ You
Rating: T (language and implied sexual situations)
Notes: Um…. Hi.
Kyungil furrowed his brows and shifted in bed with an irritated moan, keeping his eyes shut against the light streaming in through the window. It sounded as if someone was waging a war in his bedroom, a war complete with spaceships and laser guns or whatever the hell that damnable zapping sound was. He moaned again and turned on his side, pulling the sheets over his head. It was loud and annoying and for some reason everything seemed louder and more annoying than usual. His squeezed his eyes tightly closed and realized that his head was throbbing, his body was aching, and he couldn’t breathe properly through his nose.
At the voice, Kyungil slowly opened his eyes underneath his sheet-tent and after listening to another series of animatronic beeping noises, he sneezed. Then he groaned loudly, because it felt as if his head had just exploded.
“Kyungil-hyung?” The noises stopped and he took a deep breath, reveling in the silence despite his throbbing head. The sheets were pulled down and Kyungil growled softly, trying to shield his eyes from the sun, which was obviously an evil that was bent on blinding his already aching eyes.
“What?” he grumbled, attempting to burrow into his pillow. He felt a hand pressing his shoulder down so he couldn’t hide his face and then another one pushing his bangs aside to rest on his forehead. He was still for a minute since the hand was cool and soft and felt quite nice.
“You’re not as warm as before. I’m a better doctor than I thought!” Kyungil certainly felt much too warm yet at the same time too chilly. Finally he cracked his eyes open and focused blearily on none other than Jang Yijeong. Of course. Who else had the balls to be making such a racket in his room? Definitely not Jaeho since he scared the life out of the boy the last time he as much as dared step a foot inside Kyungil’s sacred dwelling.
“What are you doing here?” Kyungil asked grouchily, still foggy with sleep. Yijeong took his hand away and leaned down for a moment before straightening with an armful of the fluffy comforter that Kyungil must have kicked off sometime in his fitful sleep.
“You don’t remember last night?” Yijeong walked over to Kyungil’s chair and dropped the downy mass into it. Kyungil frowned. Chairs were for sitting, not for discarded bedding, especially bedding that could be to hide underneath from the satanic sunlight.
“Really? Well, in that case, here’s what happened: we went clubbing then you got drunk off your ass and went onstage. Embarrassed yourself by singing some really bad karaoke and then we ended up back here and we had some really kinky sex which involved some rope, handcuffs, and a whip.”
Kyungil paused for a minute, processing what he had heard, a good amount of that didn’t seem right at all. “Uh… yeah,” Yijeong said, nodding quickly at himself before continuing on. “I figured you wouldn’t be too happy waking up tied to the bedposts, so I untied you when you passed out.” The older of the two stared at him, deadpanned. Yijeong was a terrible liar.
“Uh-huh. That’s real cute, Yijeong. Now stop bullshitting me and tell me what really happened.” Yijeong wasn’t even old enough to go into a club. Kyungil wasn’t one for clubs anymore, whenever his friends would invite him, he’d tend to turn them down more often than naught. Yijeong plopped down on the floor with a grin and picked up his video game controller—so that’s what was making that horrid noise—before continuing. “We went to dinner since everyone else was out, you got drunk off your ass and then took a walk afterwards, and of course it rained right in the middle, but we didn’t care so we got wet. You said something about kissing in the rain being horribly romantic.”
“I did not,” Kyungil objected. “I’d never say something stupid like that.”
“Did so.” Yijeong whined. Kyungil scoffed in return. “Well, then, it was your fault—you probably made me drink too much.”
Yijeong giggled into his hand, “Alcohol seems to bring out the true you,” the younger says with a cute smile. Kyungil sat up and promptly sneezed before he could get his retort out. He rubbed his nose and scowled, then sneezed again. He said something in a half-mumble, half-moan as he pulled the sheets up and slipped back down in his bed, giving Yijeong the evil eye.
“You got me sick,” he complained, then gestured with a finger. “Why’d you bring that crap in here?”
Yijeong spluttered. “You’re calling my PS4 crap?”
“It’s noisy. Have you no respect for the ill?”
“You know, I think I liked you better last night when you were all drunk and cute and stuck on kissing in the rain.”
“I’m sick and I have a hangover,” Kyungil lamented. “And you’re an idiot.”
“Sihyoung-hyung says hangovers aren’t so bad, just drink some more alcohol and you’ll be fine.”
“That would be something that asshole would say.” Kyungil buried himself under the covers, sniffing pathetically and cursing his stuffy nose. He half-expected his good-for-nothing boyfriend to resume playing his mindless video games, but instead he felt a hand poking at the sheets. Kyungil lowered them slightly and peered out, his face set in a frown.
“Is widdle Kyung-illie feeling sicky-wicky?” Yijeong asked innocently in baby talk. He was kneeling at the bedside and all Kyungil could see was his head staring at him with enormous coppery eyes. If it wasn’t for him not being at the top of his game and his terrible weakness for Yijeong’s puppy-dog eyes he would have punched the younger boy in his stupid cute baby face.
“Why aren’t you sick?” he asked crabbily.
“I have something called an immune system. It works really well when you don’t lock yourself in the dance studio at all hours of the day and night and try to live off coffee,” he scolded lightly, then his eyes lit up. “I know! I’ll make you soup.”
“Oh, please don’t,” Kyungil moaned, picturing the kitchen in flames, he assumed by how quiet it was outside of his room that no one was around to supervise Yijeong’s cooking. The younger had already trotted off, oblivious to Kyungil’s severe apprehension.
The dancer heard him rummaging through the pots and pans and apparently picking the heaviest one he could find, for it landed on the stove with a huge bang. Kyungil pondered pulling the sheets over his head again and simply attempting sleep in a blissfully ignorant state, but knowing that Yijeong was about to cook made it impossible to do that, since only visions of the dorm in flames is all he could think about when closing his eyes. So Kyungil dragged himself out of bed and trudged toward the kitchen.
“What are you doing up? You’re supposed to get plenty of rest,” Yijeong admonished, tearing through the cabinets in search of noodles. Kyungil made a face. “Stop it, you’re making a mess.” He would end up being the one to clean it up later since he lived with a bunch of children and slobs, since Dokyun took one for the team and cleaned the bathroom this week.
“I haven’t started yet, hyung.” Yijeong spoke as if he were speaking to a slow child. “If I could just find where you keep the noodles… and those little bullion cubes…”
“Don’t try to cook,” Kyungil sighed. “Who knows how long it would take the company to find us a new place to live.” Yijeong turned the wounded kitten look to him, “I can cook!” His lower lip was trembling and Kyungil knew it was just for show, it was all an act…. One that he always fell for. So he just sighed and said, “Okay, but how about you try when my head doesn’t feel like someone sat on it?”
Yijeong’s features immediately brightened but he paused for a moment, eyeing the older boy, taking in the wretched look on his face. “Well…” Yijeong comes close and put his arms around the older boy and promptly snuggles his face into the crook of his shoulder. “You need me more than you need soup.”
Kyungil was about to say something kind of bullshit he knew would make Yijeong happy but he was cut off by being dragged further into the kitchen. Yijeong pushed himself up on his tip-toes, flung open a cabinet and groped around inside for a bit, ignoring Kyungil’s questions of ‘what the fuck are you doing?’.
“This stuff really works,” he said, holding up a bottle of blue liquid. Kyungil stared. “I haven’t taken liquid medicine since I was six. ” Yijeong pouted at those words up he unscrewed the top of the bottle anyways, “You’re going to take this!” He wandered over to the cutlery drawer and pulled out a tablespoon. He poured the thick bright colored liquid onto the spoon, then made airplane noises as he flew it around the dancer’s face. Kyungil made sure to give him his scariest glare when it finally reached his mouth, even though his glares only really work on Jaeho. He opened his mouth reluctantly and took the medicine, then proceeded to gag and hack up a lung in a gross sounding cough.
“Oh hell no! That’s fucking disgusting!” Yijeong looked at him blankly, “It’s medicine, what’d you expect?” Yijeong started to pour another dose, “One more~” But when he looks up Kyungil had made a mad dash out of the kitchen like the devil was after him. Yijeong shouted after him, dropping the spoon into the sink and making quickly after the other boy. “You only have half of what you need to get better!” He yells as he trails after Kyungil. The dancer was about to go to the bathroom and stick a finger down his throat to rid himself of the vile medicine he had just taken, but Yijeong ambushed him. The younger pulls him away from the bathroom, ignoring the sound glare Kyungil throws his way. He can only smile back the older boy for his antics, pink lips curling into a grin and eyes turning into cute crescents, Kyungil’s glare fades quickly at Yijeong’s bright smile. “You’re so crazy when you’re sick,” The younger laughs.
“I only get crazy when you give me horrible concoctions and claim they’ll make me better!” Kyungil shot back, then stopped when Yijeong brought his face close and gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose then promptly sweeps back in to give a gentle kiss on the lips. Kyungil’s eyes slid shut and hands immediately find Yijeong’s small waist, his annoyance dissipated for the most part. He tilts his head, going in a bit deeper and Yijeong’s opens up willingly, Kyungil takes the opportunity to slid his tongue. The leader’s hands tightened around Yijeong’s waist as they kissed as he leaned down, moving further into the kiss. He was already feeling lightheaded due to his wretched fever-hangover and when they finally broke apart, it took a moment for Yijeong’s face to come into focus.
“Ugh,” Yijeong said unappreciatively, grimacing dramatically. “That medicine does taste terrible.”
“Suffer more,” Kyungil said, pulling him back and capturing his lips again.
You never thought you would see the day where you actually missed a giant.
It had started when Ethan found you after a mouse had taken over your home last winter. You had been nearly freezing to death when he saw you curled up at the base of a tree. At first, you were scared to death of him, especially because he just carried you off back to his house. He had explained being a Youtuber and eventually you met his friends.
Now Ethan had handed you off to Mark, as his autograph session at PAX was beginning soon. For your safety, you weren’t allowed to be with Ethan in case someone tried to take you, or he did another backflip.
“I’ll see you soon, (name).” He ruffled your hair with one finger and vanished through the curtain.
You looked up at Mark. You had barely left Ethan’s hands or shoulders since your flight from LA. While you trusted Mark, you still felt overwhelmed by everything going on. PAX was big and loud and there was too much happening everywhere. It was a sensory overload.
You heard screaming, grimaced, and covered your ears.
“Hey…” Mark said awkwardly. One of his fingers touched your back. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head. Ethan must have said something, because the crowd screamed again. You covered your ears a second time.
Mark frowned. “No? That’s okay. I guess all of that noise is hard on your ears, isn’t it?” He glanced around a bit, then sank down to the floor on his stomach.
“Mark, what are you doing?” You asked.
He was army-crawling behind a stack of crates. “Don’t you know, (name)? I’m a spy, and it’s my mission to keep you happy.” He sat up and peered out over the top of the crates dramatically, before turning to you and leaning his back on them. “The coast is clear. Over.”
You a small laugh. Somehow, being closer to the ground helped a little. He began talking to you, and you leaned back against his fingers. You felt better.
Eventually, you saw Tyler and Amy sneaking up on you. From your angle, they looked extremely tall. Amy snickered and held one finger to her lips.
Of course, Mark saw you look away and proceeded to check behind him. “Hey! What are you two doing here?” Mark asked. He looked back down at you.
“Dunno. The enforcers thought you were livestreaming.” Amy chuckled.
“Or you finally lost it.” Tyler added.
“Well I am clearly doing neither of those things, so no one needs to ban me yet!” Mark shot back. “It’s just, (name) is feeling a little overwhelmed and I’m trying to calm them down!”
“Oh. Are they okay?” Amy asked. She leaned down. “Are you okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah, just-” Another wave of cheers came from the crowd. Mark cuddled you to his chest, using himself to block some of the noise. “-it’s loud.” You finished, as Mark held you out again.
Tyler nodded, kneeling down. You used to be terrified of the stone-faced giant, but you now trusted him as much as Mark. “You’ll be okay. Ethan’s gonna be back in the next hour or so, okay?”
You booped his nose. “Gotcha, big dude.”
Amy and Tyler left after that, leaving you and Mark alone again. “What to do now… Oh!”
Mark lowered himself onto his stomach again and began army-crawling toward the curtains that separated you and Ethan. “Let’s go see how the Blueberry is doing!”
You sat back against his palm and hung onto his thumb. This would certainly be… interesting.
Request: [Anonymous} Hi! Do you think you could do an imagine where Peter ends up bringing his child and (preferably) spouse to see Xavier’s school? I was just thinking it would be cute to see him be excited about showing the people he loves a place he loves. (And it would be funny to see people’s surprise bc he is a parent) Sorry if my idea isn’t very clear, I just think it would be cute
Characters: Peter Maximoff, Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy, Kurt Wagner, Vala Žofie
Mutation: Illusion Manipulation
Warnings: Protective!Peter, babysitter!Kurt, Peter Maximoff being an A++ dad, Babies??, swearing, stupid nicknames
A/N: Funnilly enough, I was at work (I work at a Halloween store) when this guy came in wearing a baby sling backwards and just asks, “Do you have any costumes for small people?” and just turns around and there’s a baby. Also, this seems very appropriate bc I tried to calculate Peter’s age based on when X-Men: Apocalypse took place and he’s like, 27?? holy shit.
[Baby’s name is pronounced Vah-la Z-oh-fee, of German and Czech origin. Vala means Chosen in German and Žofie is the Czech version of the name Sophie.]
A/N: It’s September 1st and I know that marks the beginning of Spring in some places, but here, it’s the first day of Fall and I am so alive rn! To celebrate, have my first official Sweater Weather (baby) fic of the season :) Xx
There’s a sort of comfort that comes with the seasonal change, the way the leaves on the trees turn from green to the distinct colors of Autumn – oranges and reds and yellows – and hang from branches and litter the sidewalks. How the heavy heat of Summer is replaced by ever cooling temperatures.
Emma appears to be prone to a bit more affection in the chilly months, cuddling a little longer in the mornings, stealing his warmth with a knee nudged between his legs and her nose pressed between his shoulder blades, her arm tight around his waist. It’s not all she steals, even more of his heart is lost to her when she twines their fingers together and their joined hands rest over the lazy beat that thumps against his ribcage. He’s used to waking early and meeting the day head-on, having captained a ship for over three hundred years, but it’s hard to deny her (and himself) such a simple pleasure as sleeping in late with the person you love.
She falls into the habit of wearing scarves more frequently, wrapping them tight around her neck and tucking the ends into the thicker coats she pulls from the back of their closet. Perhaps his favorite articles of clothing in her autumn wardrobe, however, are the hats she often wears before leaving the house for the station. ‘Beanies’ he’s told they’re called, and he always tugs the sides down a little further, taking care to cover her ears from the cold and earning himself a grin and a sweet, smacking kiss for his troubles.
Except it’s no trouble at all, especially when he tugs her back and she collides into his chest on a breathless giggle, and he can give her proper kiss goodbye.
Her preference for cinnamon appears to be more prevalent during this time, and he finds her not just reaching for the hot chocolate and cinnamon sticks over her usual large coffee, but for sugary concoctions baked with it as well. He doesn’t mind, he quite enjoys sneaking sips from her cup and bites off her plate, his smug smile tipping up the corners of his mouth with every glare and exasperated huff she directs at him.
Besides, it’s difficult to resist the smell of spice lingering enticingly on her skin and the taste of it on her lips.