#I CAME HERE TO GET OVER MY MENTAL BLOCKS AND UR OUT HERE LIKE ‘just go. duh’ WHAT

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

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This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

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Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[artisticbunny]

(Tiredsleepytiredsleepyboredtiredsleepyboredsleepy—)

Right HELLO! I been out for a few days haha sorry ya missed me! Saturday’s my off day and I went to an art museum yesterday to see my works! (And the many others) Also been working on my hair a lot this weekend and stuff to get it done and out the way for the next month, so sorry I’m late! But I’m here now!

So! In regards to your ✨wonderful✨ tale of Whispering Willow, how about some Corey lore?! (I know I’m going for like all most abstract guys lol I was gonna make a joke in regards to fractions but later—) Half dead, ALSO BETRAYED BY HIS TEAM! Big brain enough to have a potion on hand tho! Ôwô

Was it in cold blood this time!? It sure smells like cold blood bro. No way that was fraud or frame or lies!! HIS TEAM LEFT HIM FOR DEAD!! AHHHHHHHHHH I CANT!

(But gosh dang I hope I’m wrong at the same time lol. Also writers block utterly terminated! Yeah! Random Bonus question too tho: anything ur working on currently? Just school or something more? If it’s a secret that’s cool of course, but if it’s shareable I’d like to know! :D Oki I’ll buzz off now lol I need to finish an essay before I get marked down ^^” keep being awesome as always! Love ya Bun! <333)

Sorry for how long it took to answer this!!! I’ve been busy too >w<

Tw for gore, because Corey DEFINITELY didn’t get away unscathed!!!

Cory’s story isn’t super complex, they mostly just wanted to provide for their family!

Corey was an adventurer for hire, in simplest terms. He would go and join other adventuring teams for short quests. They never really stuck with a single group for longer than one or two quests, always on the move, and only taking a fairly small cut of the reward as compensation. Corey’s mentality is that others have families they need to feed too, he doesn’t need as much for his small family than others may need for theirs. His family consists of his mother and his little sister. he loves them dearly. Corey knows the work they do is dangerous, but he genuinely enjoys what he does, and is the main breadwinner of his family.

When Corey was betrayed and left for dead in Dread Caverns, everyone thought they died. His mother and sister were distraught. They tried to murder him so they could have just that little bit more of the money. It was their greed that pushed them to commit murder. Obviously, they told the guild it was an accident in the cave that lead to his death.

Though nobody knew, Corey WAS still alive, technically. He tried for months to find a way to get out, but with his limited range of movement, it proved too difficult to climb out of the caves on his own. Though there was ONE good outcome from his being betrayed: now having no heartbeat, he was basically invisible to the beasts that roamed the cave system. The same beasts that feed off of the fear of their prey. The first person to find him came soon after they realized this. Some random adventurer, trying to collect minerals and resources from the cave in order to study it’s properties. Corey tried approaching this person to ask for help, but as soon as he stepped closer, they freaked out. Corey is, quite literally, walking death. He has his head smashed in, cuts all over him, his lip split in half, dried blood running down his face, and even the limping walk of a zombie. To be completely fair, seeing him come at you in a dark cave like that, I don’t really blame the guy for practically pissing his pants! It doesn’t really help that Corey is partially mute, only really able to get out short sentences at a time, so on top of it all, he was completely silent walking forward XD

The adventurer practically bolted out of the cave after that, and told the guild. Thus birthed the rumor of the “King of Fear”, believed to be behind the properties of Dread Caverns.

Many would come over the next few years, none of them willing to listen to reason. They tried to kill Corey. Out of self defense, Corey ended up killing them.

He would rack up quite the kill count before Brook came along. Corey hates what he’s had to do, and hates that he’s begun to kind of like it in a twisted weird way. They hate themself because of this. They feel evil. They think they’ve started going insane. Being isolated in the dark for years with only the occasional battle, it was akin to torture.

Brook, even while terrified out of her mind, was the first one to actually stop and listen to him. She helped him to escape and finally see the light of day after years underground.

Here’s the boy!!!

To answer your last question, yeah I’m mostly working on schoolwork right now haha! But I’m also working on a new profile picture since the one I have currently was originally made for Halloween XD I’ll finish it soon and post it for you guys to see when it’s done!

[cythoughtsnmemories]

11.10.23

Thank God I was wfh on Mon. Took meds and feeling drowsy. So I took a few short nap. MIL get helper to prepare lunch. A veg soup, potato with baked beans and onions egg. Hmm no meat? Although I'm okay w vegetarian. Hope is not like that for all lunch.

Anw, I'll have to go office everyday on both wks after Mon.

Helped out for Mental wellness day event for Co. Grateful my booth (scent making) was the first to go out of stock and I could go back to work ard 2pm. Only had sandwich and my bbt when I went back to my desk...luckily I had heavy breakfast. But my nose was blocked n runny. The air con is making it worst. I think I need to sweat it out. Supposed to gym but colleague suggested to push it to next day since not meeting ex colleague tmr.

Decided to return to d clinic I visited on Sat but sadly it was closed. Only found out when I was outside d clinic. Omg why d app didn't update d operating hours 😤

Went home to cook my salmon and head back to MIL hse. Planned to shower and shower before SIL n her hubby arrives. FIL was showering and I was told not to wet the toilet in d kitchen. Cannot shower lo. (Err then what's d use for toilet sandals?) Plan ruined. Told hubby I'll be quick but SIL came n FIL just out from shower. I wasn't even hungry but annoyed my plan keeps getting ruined. I need a plan n follow. Why can wait for SIL to come but cannot wait for me to shower?

Actually...think abt it. Must be sis got say sth to her parents (on behalf of her hubby), that's why then got d rule of cannot wet toilet when BIL comes over.

Went to do my laundry and MIL emphasise again cannot put underwear into washing machine. I didn't reply cos i just find d reason is ridiculous. She told me d day I moved in and cos its not my hse. LL use hand wash lo. Hubby was there and told her I used my hand to washed already. She doesn't believe me and still accused me that I already threw it in d washing machine since there's only 1 underwear in d toilet hanging. Pfft! Triggered. I just said wdym women is dirty, we r all same what. Next time (when my own hse is ready) I'll also not hand wash underwear. Does it even matter. She went in.

5.53am

I can't sleep back since 4.50ish after came back from pee. Alarm rang twice, I heard opening of door with a bunch of keys. Then arguing about the portable charger not charged. 45mins of chattering later, they went out. Here I'm wide awake...road starting to get busy. I tried to sleep back, but I can't...soon hubby's alarm will ring and by d time he left hse, I left 20 mins before my alarm ring.

Bet I should only blame myself for waking up at d wrong timing and not able to fall into deep sleep before 5.

I uds its different lifestyle. I won't say hubby will enjoy when it's his turn to move in my hse. But acknowledge and uds what are d inconvenient that it has caused me. It's definitely more inconvenient for me but all I get is getting said that I'm picky, I'm d problem. I mean that's what I felt when I told my hubby. He would just say till like it's nth and ignore. Cos he will nvr ask his parents to change anything for me. At least discuss?! I just have to deal w it, live w it.

The marriage book I passed to hubby to read it's not even halfway through, and it's been 5 mths? Idk how to to tell my hubby, he is going to stay w me for his rest of his life. I'm his wife, and he needs to help me, think for me. It's us and issue, not u and ur fam vs me (alone).

Idk what more issues will appear. 💔

[mars-ipan]

OK SIDENOTE i fucking hate when therapists notice how self aware you are and think you’re actually doing really good. no dipshit i study psychology as a hobby and if i didn’t approach this with objectivity i would not be able to function as a human being due to high stress

[sleep-i-ness]

Wrong Door (Sirius Black x reader)

Synopsis: Your roommate wakes you up in the middle of the night because she can’t get into the flat. Or so you think. (Muggle AU) FOR MY 500 WRITING CHALLENGE

A/N: do not follow what reader does in this in real life. IF SOMEBODY PASSES OUT DRUNK AND DOESN’T WAKE UP, CALL AN AMBULANCE (usa people i don’t know what you do. call an uber to the hospital?)

WARNINGS: Alcohol, really shitty first aid, swearing

BANG! Y/N bolted upright. Fuck, were they being burgled? She checked her watch, groaning at the time. It was 3 in the bloody morning and she had an 8am class. She swore lightly under her breath; she’d clearly fallen asleep while studying on the sofa, a textbook on her lap and an empty bottle of wine in her hand.

She wasn’t one for going out in middle of the week, unlike her roommate Marlene, so being woken up in the early hours of the morning was a common occurrence. Usually Marlene would just stumble back into the apartment, tripping over everything lying in her way. Tonight, she had clearly decided to break the fucking door down.

Y/N heard a key fiddling at the door, and she sighed. That was when the pounding on the door started. Time for her to go help Marlene out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she grumbled, extracting herself from the cocoon of sheets and cushions.

The banging didn’t lessen, and Y/N groaned as black patches clouded her vision momentarily. Mentally reminding herself to grab some water on the way back from the door, she trudged over to the hallway, propping herself against the wall for two seconds as she swayed slightly. Her fingers clasped around the latch and she pulled it, swinging the door open.

“You’re not Marlene.”

“You’re not James. Did he bring you over or something?” The brunette stranger rambled, pushing past her as he stumbled into the apartment. Y/N was too taken aback to protest at first, watching the man walk in as if he owned the place. “You can close the door, y’know. I didn’t bring back a girl this time because James said he’d literally kill me if I kept him up again. What a hypocrite.”

The man reached out to hang his jacket on an empty patch of wall, staring at it blankly when it fell onto the floor. He tried again, feeling for a hook that didn’t exist and Y/N watched him confusedly from where she stood by the still-open door.

“What on earth are you doing in my flat?” She found her voice at last; his audacity was astounding!

“Your flat? Love, just because James brought you over once doesn’t mean you can start claiming our stuff,” he seemed almost affronted, slurring his words as he let his jacket be on the floor. 

“No, this is my flat that I share with my roommate Marlene. Who the fuck is James? And, more importantly, who the fuck are you?” Y/N had to admit, she was getting a little riled at this point. This drunk man had just waltzed in and begun claiming the place as if she didn’t exist.

The man opened his mouth to protest before taking a good long look at the coral walls and pictures that hung all over them. He closed his mouth, paused, and turned to look at the hall table with their tatty fringed lampshade and geometric-print table runner. Y/N could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he stared bemusedly at the room.

“Fuck. This isn’t my flat. Where am I?” He seemed honestly and completely confounded, scrunching his face up.

“You’re near Kensington, we’re a few roads back from the high street and the market. This flat block is number 48-53?” Y/N gesticulated as she tried to explain where exactly her apartment lay.

She was too busy explaining to notice the queasy expression spreading across the man’s face. He shoved back past her to stick his head out her door and promptly throw up all over her front step. Disgusting. And she was going to have to clean it up! He swayed back and forth, before collapsing backwards, narrowly avoiding falling feet-first into a pile of his own vomit. Y/N contemplated just leaving him there and shutting the door on him. But she knew deep down she’d sorely regret it if any harm came to him because she refused to help him. It wasn’t the dodgiest of areas, but the nights were bitterly cold.

“Hey,” she tapped him on his shoulders, calling upon her memories of first aid and how to deal with a drunk person. He didn’t stir, even as her taps got harder and she decided to take her chances and slapped him straight across the face. She gasped as a red handprint bloomed on his cheek, yet he still didn’t wake up. Hand still stinging, Y/N grabbed his arms, heaving as she attempted to pull him inside. Managing to pull him into the living room, she gently rolled him into the recovery position, ensuring that he was still breathing and that he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. A dead man in her living room would be difficult to explain to her flatmate.

Y/N trudged to the kitchen, dragging her feet along as she pinched her eyelids to try and keep herself awake. She just needed to grab a glass of water to help with tomorrow’s inevitable hangover and a blanket for the drunkard. Somehow, she managed to complete the task, leaving her standing over the man now covered in her biggest blanket. She knew that she should go back to her room, but it just seemed so far, her legs protesting at the thought of moving an inch. Besides, the blanket was big enough to cover the two of them without having to even touch each other, right?

Sliding under the furthest corner, she quickly curled into a ball, eyes drifting shut before her head even touched the carpet.

:.

Waking in the morning, Y/N nuzzled further into the broad arms wrapped around her, sighing as she breathed in the stale scent of cologne and whisky. Her head pounding as she tried to recall the events of the night before that had led to her in a man’s arms. She startled, bolting upright as she remembered the drunkard who had stumbled through her door. And now she was in his arms. Fuck.

Seeing the man afresh with sober eyes, Y/N stopped to appreciate that he was actually really fucking attractive. It didn’t excuse him trying to break into her flat, but it helped, now knowing she’d cuddled him all night. God, that was embarrassing. How was she ever supposed to explain to the guy on the floor or Marlene what had happened. Slipping out from under the blanket, she tiptoed into the kitchen and slumped against the counter.

Coffee, she needed coffee. Then she could think about what had happened and how to sort out the man passed out in the living room.

Y/N filled the kettle up and spooned out the coffee granules into the cafetiere, frowning when her hand came into contact with air rather than her favourite mug. Fuck. It was still dirty from last night, probably abandoned on the table with her textbooks.

Meanwhile, Sirius groaned as he twisted under his covers. God, his head was aching, and his back was incredibly sore. Remus was going to kill him if he’d pulled a muscle; he was meant to be helping him move on the weekend. His mattress was uncomfortably lumpy; he knew he needed to get a new one, but he’d been putting it off. The bobbly fabric scratched his skin as he stretched out, flexing his fingers.

Hang on. Bobbly fabric?

Sirius cracked an eye open, flinching at the bright light. As his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming in, his heart rate picked up. This was not his apartment. He was pretty sure they didn’t have such awful, tasselled cushions or green lace curtains.

Did he-? He glanced down, releasing a sigh of relief when he noticed he was still fully dressed. Okay, so not that drunk. So how the hell did he end up here?

“Here.” A girl stood in the doorway, an unimpressed expression on her face as she offered him a steaming mug of black coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked it, but I have milk and sugar if you need.”

Sirius nodded, still trying to process how he’d got here. She stared at him, waiting for something. He quickly backtracked the conversation in his head. “Oh, no, I’m good, thanks.”

He sipped at the scalding liquid, face contorting into an expression of pain as it scorched his tongue. His eyes trailed over the girl, surely he’d remember someone this gorgeous. “So,” he winced, “how did I get here?”

She pursed her lips, as if she’d tasted something sour. Okay so that had been a bad question to ask.

“You barged into my apartment, claiming it was yours, threw up on my doorstep and then passed out.”

Oh fuck. His head spun as it tried to remember the events of the night before. He did recall somewhat throwing up, but it was a blurry flash. “Sorry about that.”

She hmphed, stacking some scattered sheets on the small coffee table and collecting up dirty crockery. Sirius swallowed the coffee, grimacing at the awkward atmosphere. Funnily enough his parents had never bothered to teach him the etiquette for accidentally bursting into the wrong flat and passing out.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, glad he didn’t have to feel the pressure of breaking the silence anymore.

JAMES: Where are u?

JAMES: When I said don’t bring a girl back I didn’t mean go back to hers

JAMES: Ur boss called. I said you were feeling under the weather. He said u should get over ur hangover & get into work

REMUS: Why did ur boss call me to ask if we went out last night? I said no btw

JAMES: He called again; said he’d fire you if you didn’t turn up before 11. I told him u were properly ill and I could send him a pic of the thermometer. I think I got you out of that one

JAMES: Mate, I’m getting a bit worried

Shit. When was that last one from? Okay, 11:15 and it was now 11:34. Sirius tapped out a reply to James, unsure how much detail to go into. I’m alright, be back soon. Yeah, that would do. He really couldn’t deal the endless mocking yet, once they’d found out what had happened they’d never let it go. So that would be saved for when the pounding headache had finally settled down.

His phone binged again. JAMES: We’re out of milk can you grab some on the way back?

Sure.

Sirius got to his feet, groaning as the room spun, beige walls all blurring into one. Rubbing at his face, he stumbled towards the kitchen, empty mug in hand.

“Hey, sorry, I don’t know your name.” He leant against the door frame, body sagging. God he was exhausted.

“Y/N.” Her tone was bitter, and Sirius couldn’t help the pang of guilt shooting through him. She’d probably stayed up all night worried he’d attack her or steal something.

“Well, thanks for the coffee, Y/N, and for not leaving me on the doorstep. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

He placed the mug down on the counter and slung his leather jacket on. She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes.

Y/N trailed him to the door, holding onto it as he stepped out, raising a hand goodbye.

“Bye.”

“Thanks, bye.” Sirius watched the chipped door swing shut, sunlight glinting gold off the battered number on the door. Hm, Number 51.

:.

Y/N groaned as the doorbell went. She’d just got settled into her studying. “Marlene, did you order something?”

“No. I’m broke.” Marlene yelled back, sticking her head out of her room. Her makeup was half done, mascara brush in hand and dress round her hips. “I can’t answer it like this!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m on it.”

She tipped the papers onto the floor, ignoring the mess they made. Future her could tidy that up. Trudging to the door, she grabbed her phone off the table. So that was where she’d left it.

“Hi,” she nodded at the delivery guy. He was holding a large bunch of flowers and Y/N bit back a sigh her eyes. Probably from another of Marlene’s boys. Honestly, she was thinking of opening up a flower shop, considering the amount of flowers Marlene’s newest was insisting on sending.

“Hi, I’m looking for,” the delivery guy scanned the list on his clipboard, “Y/N?”

She froze. Huh. “Yeah, that’s me.”

He tucked the clipboard under his arm, passing her the flowers. “These are for you. There’s a card with it.”

“Thanks.”

Y/N shut the door, staring at the bunch of vivid blooms in confusion. Who on earth would have sent her these? She racked her brains for any possible romance in her life, but nothing came to mind. With her luck, it was probably her grandma or something. Not that she’d be upset by flowers from her nan but a mystery lover was much more interesting.

She pulled out the gilded card from where it was tucked into the side of the paper, scanning the words.

Sorry for breaking in and passing out in your flat, princess. Text me if you want to go for drinks at some point: +44 7xxx xxxxxx

A smile broke across her face. Maybe she’d take him up on his offer.

-

-

all hp tags: @missmulti @acciotwinz @1marvelavengers1 @samnblack @neymarlionelmessi7 @okkulta  @gredandforge @onestela@yourenotafailureoverall  @milkshakelol

sirius black tags: @holybatflapexpert @methamphetaminee @thefernandasantana @uglipotata72829 @cheapglitter @lozzybowe @persephonehemingway @blisfvlll @mads-bri @fific7 @electrasworld666 @ccosmic-illusion @anniewhoiam @20coldhearts @imcreepininyourheartbabe @whointhehellisbucky @isntmadrid @blackblossomqueen @wheezyreads @tugabooos @atomic-chickenwings @its-evita-here @inkandpen22 @Rue-123  @emilianamason @mesmerisedalien

[symptoms-syndrome]

Re: friend again. No TWs just long

I think, and I'm just armchair psychoanalyzing here, the main issue I have w her is that she doesn't seem to be able to accept a grey area between "nothing is ever my fault" and "everyone hates me bc I mess everything up."

For example like. W our shitty roommate, he was shitty absolutely and he escalated things but like. She also was shitty to him? Like she would be aggressive or rude sometimes because of something aggressive or rude he did but sometimes also just in. Anticipation of him being aggressive/rude. And it's like. Can you not. And when I would confront her about it (usually framed in a way of "please just let him be stupid sometimes, not everything stupid he says needs a response or to be corrected bc I literally just want to have a good movie night" or whatever) she would accuse me of "taking his side." Which is what he would also accuse me of. And it's like I'm not taking any sides I just want to have a fun night watching a movie/show/etc without a fight about something dumb. And then later on after he had escalated things way too far she came to me to be like "oh I understand now you weren't taking his side" and it's like. Ok. Thanks. But do u realize u were also a part of the problem sometimes?

And like. It's also hard to know that she's very irrational for mental illness reasons while also knowing that no amount of me telling her she's irrational is going to make her less so. Like, she says that the shitty roommates think she's aggressive and hate her or whatever and I can't be like well. You have been aggressive. Like she threw a fit at the idea that W wanted a coffee table in the living room and then also brought in a huge shelf that blocks the window without asking. And she's like "they think ur just a neutral bad presence" or whatever and it's like yea ur correct. Probably bc I don't bother them. And she seems to think that the roommates are going to be aggressive to her when they move out and whatever and it's like. All evidence points to the contrary. Every time they've even so much as seen us they've avoided us entirely. So why would they suddenly 180 change their tune moving out. The only times they've been aggressive has been when she was aggressive.

And it's like. There can be a grey area here. You have fucked up you will continue to fuck up but fucking up doesn't have to mean that everything is ruined now? And I think that's a big problem like. She fucks up and then decides fuck it it's over and acts accordingly and makes things worse for herself.

Also she rly rly rly clings to me which is both triggering and annoying and a big pet peeve. I need to know my friends etc will be fine without me bc I do not have the energy to devote to them 24/7. Even romantic partners, I can't be the center of their whole life it just annoys me. And she just rly needs to hang w me all the time and have me validate her and thinks I'm the coolest person on earth or all she needs and it's like girl get some friends pls. But she can't make friends for some reason, I think bc she thinks she just needs me? Like she knows that regardless of whatever she can come back to me and it's like...not rly! No u can't! And I'm establishing those boundaries STRONG lately and I know she's mega hurt by that but like. Whatever. If she rly cares abt our friendship or w/e she's gonna need to learn MY needs as well. Bc I do kinda feel sometimes like I'm just a stuffed animal of a friend. I'm reliable and always there and always accommodating and like. I have been! But that's a limited time offer! And only renews if you're reciprocal about it!

And like. IDK I would consider moving if I didn't think this apartment was perfect. And I think I'm still friends with her like she has the potential to be a good friend she just rly needs some fucking therapy!!! Like she was in therapy before (and it had to end due to reasons outside her control) and was fine. But now she's just IDK despairing instead of trying to find somebody. And it's like. I've offered to show her how to get a case worker to do all the work. I've shown her how to find therapists. You're 37 girl!!! You're a big girl you gotta get ur own shit done!!! I'm a little over half ur age how come I'm more adult than you!!!

I'm hoping having two people move in who are like. Rational and adult and "neutral" will help her realize her behavior is mentally ill. She does know she's mentally ill n all but she doesn't seem aware the extent to which her experiences are not just. The human condition. Like when she left a previous event (a big like. Club night thing) bc she was like "I just felt like everyone there hated me" and I'm like "oh so anxiety" and she's like "what" bc she somehow thought that was a normal thing to think? Like this is a huge dance party at night in the relative dark w tons of people nobody is paying attention enough to anyone in particular to hate you.

[its-deputy-caleb]

would u possibly do some NSFW morbell? where they're up in colter ( i loved ur original morbell post on them ) pls do more as i love ur blog 💛

this is an absolute mess oml i literally have no idea how to write anything smutty but here we go i guess. I love this pair but i kinda went off topic and centred this on a praise kink for micah. ANYWAY this is probably terrible since i'm melting, its literally 40 degrees and the aircon is broken so its unedited af and i wont look at it again until i have a cold drink. but pls enjoy some morbell <333

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

‘Cold up in Colter’

Fuck, what a mess Blackwater had been. The Pinkertons were on them faster than ever and they found themselves fleeing from a blood bath.

That was almost three days ago and Micah hadn’t had an ounce of sleep. He’d been sent out with John to scout ahead, having found a homestead which ended up burning at the hand of O’Driscoll’s. Okay maybe house burning down was his fault but he tends to make stupid decisions when he’s had little to know sleep. And it was so fucking cold.

That didn’t stop heat rising to his face when he felt Arthur’s hands on his shoulder, pushing him back with a roughness he could only wish for in another way. Damn Arthur Morgan and his ability to have Micah curling in on himself and blushing like a virgin at the mere thought of a hand on his shoulder.

He should hate Arthur, really the two are nothing more than rivals, competing for the spot of Dutch Van Der Linde’s right hand. At the beginning, almost six months ago now, Micah couldn’t stand the sight of the man but somehow that anger tapered off into something more akin to admiration and that admiration slowly turned to desire.

He’ll never admit to how badly he wants Arthur but he won’t deny however that he’s pushed the man’s buttons more than once just to have an interaction with him. All he had to do start a silly argument over camp earnings or a bet at five finger fillet to have the man shaking him by the collar and threatening to break his nose.

It almost always ended with Micah sneaking off into the woods with half a bottle of whiskey and his pants bunched around his ankles as he thought of the way Arthur roughed him up by his shirt collar. Fuck he was pathetic sometimes.

There were other occasions where the two had actually managed to get along and that’s what pissed Micah off more than any threats of violence. Arthur just had to go and bring him a beer as he grabbed one for himself, letting their fingers touch accidentally. Or he went and offered him a seat by the fireplace where they ended up much to close for his comfort. Damn Arthur for always leaving him short of breath with a hole in his heart.

Despite what Micah did to impress Dutch, Arthur was still the camp’s favourite by a mile and he never failed to outcompete him in the eyes of the gang. Micah never minded much, not looking for anyone’s approval, but the thought of proving himself to Arthur, of being worthy of his praise is enough to have his wild side reined in.

Naturally that didn’t stop Micah from losing it from time to time and wasn’t surprised when his jealousy shot up again as Miss Grimshaw announced Arthur got his own cabin while he shared with the rest of the fellers. And he’d be damned if he had to share a room with Williamson who didn’t stop snoring.

That’s why he found himself huddled in the makeshift stables, choosing instead to wrap himself in his coat and down a bottle of whiskey to wait the night out. He cold planks he was sitting on offered little comfort and the draft in the room had his lip shaking. But at least he wouldn’t have anyone in his hair and he’d be left alone, just the way he liked it.

Of course that didn’t last long when the cranky wooden door was barged open, spooking some of the horses in the opposite end of the room. A broad figure entered the room, blocking most of the door way but that didn’t stop to whoosh of cold air flood into the room, draining even more colour from his face.

It wasn’t until the door was closed and the man stepped closer when he realised it was Arthur.

“Micah? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Arthur sounded surprised, with only a hint of concern in his voice.

“Sleepin’— what the hell ya doing here Morgan?”

There wasn’t much of a response from Arthur, only a quiet noise which was barely heard over the whistle of the wind between the planks. He walked over to the horses, checking over them and ensuring none of them were freezing to death. Micah watched in silence, scared to disturb the man as he patted along Taima’s neck.

It wasn’t until after Arthur had checked over all the horses did he turn his attention to Micah.

Micah watched as Arthur’s gloved hand extended out and offered itself to him, he hesitated before taking before taking it and being pulled to his feet. Arthur’s hand draped over his shoulder which he didn’t realise had shaking in an effort to keep warm, having drunk the remaining whiskey from the bottle.

“Common now, yer gonna freeze in here alone.”

Micah dug his heels into the ground, not allowing Arthur to pull him any further to the door as he tried to hold his voice steady. He’d be damned if he ever let Arthur know just how much he affected him.

“I ain’t sharing a bunk with Williams—“

Arthur tutted, pulling Micah out the door as he pushed him towards his cabin in the snow storm.

“Quit yer yapping, you’re sharing with me and I ain’t having any more folk die tonight. Now let’s go.”

Arthur didn’t utter another word until they were well and truely in his room, wrapped in a blanket that was barely big enough for the two of them. The bed wasn’t much bigger, having been made for one person which was evident by Arthur pressing against Micah’s back in efforts for them to fit. The only thing that kept them apart was the fabric of their jackets, otherwise Arthur would probably hear Micah’s heartbeat which was beating much to fast for his liking.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when Micah cursed under his breath which caused his teeth to chatter and Arthur spoke up.

“Yer still cold, c'mere”

Micah’s breath fell short as Arthur’s hands slid under his coat, resting his hands on his tummy to use his body heat as a source of warmth. In doing so Arthur had moved even closer, ensuring Micah’s back was flush against his chest.

Despite that Micah wanted to protest, to go straight to his default of arguing he couldn’t help but feel as he began to warm up and he slowly relaxed under his hands.

A blush rose high on his cheeks as Arthur also relaxed into their embrace, accidentally letting his hands drift lower until he felt the hard press of Micah’s straining erection against his knuckle.

Micah instantly sucked in a breath, panicking and trying to push his way out of Arthur’s hold.

“Shit Arthur I—“

Micah froze as Arthur gently pulled him back to the bed and rubbed slow circles along his stomach.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not mad…”

Arthur held him close, letting him relax before talking again before he whispered right into the shell of his ear.

“…This what you want? Is this why you’re always staring at me from across camp, why yer always picking fights and asking me to robberies?”

A high pitched noise left Micah as he shivered, feeling Arthur’s hot breath against his ear. His blush deepened as he pushed back slightly into him, whimpering at the feel of Arthur’s own erection pressed against his ass.

Fuck it, he thought as heat pooled in his abdomen and he finally allowed himself to have the one thing he’d been craving for months. He nodded frantically, grinding back onto Arthur’s clothed dick and squirming in his grip.

“Relax boy, gonna give you everything you’ve been waiting for— just be good and you’ll get it”

Micah nodded in agreement, a needy, desperate sound leaving him at the promise of praise. He wanted, no needed to be praised by the man so badly that he’d do anything for an ounce of it from the man.

“Oh god Arthur! I need it, need you. Fuck I can be good I promise.”

He knew he was probably being too loud but apart of him didn’t have it in him to care. He moaned softly as Arthur moved him to roll onto his back, towering over him but ensuring they were still kept under the blanket.

Arthur spent the next ten minutes undressing him without exposing much of his skin to the cold. He unbuttoned the lower buttons of his leather jacket, enough for Arthur to work his fly down and pull one pant leg off. He whined pitifully, grabbing at the lapels of Arthur’s coat in a silent plea for him to undress him properly.

Micah mentally scolded himself at just how desperate he was for Arthur to rip his clothes off and fuck him like a bitch in heat but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. Arthur however caught on pretty quickly to what he wanted, it seemed the man knew just what made him tick.

“I know sweetheart, once we’re well and truly outta here I’ll get us a room and we can do this properly.”

Micah’s eyes beamed at the thought of Arthur taking him to a hotel in the future, panting as his mind raced with images of Morgan making him fall apart on his cock for hours on end.

While Micah was busy in his mind, Arthur took the opportunity to retrieve the gun oil from his satchel. It certainly wasn’t the best option but it was their only choice with their limited supplies.

Arthur draped himself back over Micah’s body, kissing at his jaw and nibbling as he coated his fingers. The air was cold, only making the oil feel colder as he slowly dipped his index finger past Micah’s rim.

A devilish grin came to Arthur’s face as he heard Micah sigh and take his finger easily, deciding to work his way up to two sooner than he was expecting.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time haven’t you? I saw you once, bout a week ago. Head down, ass up with three of yer fingers inside you while you cried out for me to fuck you. It all clicked in my head then when you started acting different around me at camp.”

Micah flushed a deep red, coughing on air as he realised Arthur knew about his little crush. He tried to think of an excuse, to weasel his way out of it but his thoughts died in his head when Arthur twisted his fingers, scissoring and stretching him open before adding a third.

Arthur dragged a lip along Micah’s cheek to his lip, ghosting his lips over his before kissing him properly. This time Micah didn’t even try to fight for dominance, opening his mouth instantly for Arthur’s tongue to enter. Instead he sighed into it, pulling his legs to wrap around his waist as his hands wrapped around his lover’s shoulder.

It went on like that until Arthur was satisfied that Micah was well prepped enough, simultaneously rubbing against Micah’s prostate while he kissed him deeply. He only pulled away to pull his own leaking member out, bunching his pants around his thighs so he had enough room to move but could stay warm. He coated the rest of the oil onto his member, jerking slowly as he stared down at the sight of Micah below him.

Micah looked like an absolute mess against the pillows already, his face was flush and the scarf around his head had unwrapped slightly, revealing his disheveled blond hair. His chest was heaving as he panted and his thighs shook from pleasure as the weakly wrapped around his waist.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart”

To say that Micah hated the pet name was a lie, one that he didn’t try deny as he moaned softly. His back arched and he gripped Arthur’s coat tightly as he felt his cock slide between his cheeks and over his hole. He’s wanted this for so long now and yet somehow it still didn’t quite feel real as his mind was clouded with arousal.

Micah’s toes curled and he moaned when he felt Arthur push into him, slowly inching forward until he felt him bottom out.

“Ah��� ah! Oh Arthur fuck! Please fuck me, I’ll be good I swear.”

Micah practically sobbed with pleasure as Arthur set up a fast pace, pulling almost all the way out till just the tip was left inside his tight hole before pushing back in quickly, brushing his prostate in the process. His cock twitched from where it rested against his tummy, pinned between Arthur’s jacket which caused a string of moans to fall from his mouth.

“Look at you, so good for me— fucking perfect Micah. Such a good boy”

Arthur’s hands came to hold onto Micah’s hips for leverage, pulling on his slight muffin top under the jacket to help pull him back to meet his thrusts. Beneath him he heard Micah whine and whimper at the praise so desperately needed to hear.

Micah bought a finger up to his mouth, biting on his knuckle to silence any more noises he deemed to be pathetic from slipping out of him. He hated how close he already was just from being praised by Arthur.

It seemed Arthur wasn’t having any of it when he pulled his finger away from his mouth before kissing him like he had done not that long ago. He swallowed every one of Micah’s noises, mindful of Dutch sleeping next door and slowing his thrusts to something deeper and slower.

His hands roamed all over Micah’s clothed body, breaking away for air and whispering praises down his ear.

“That’s it, make those pretty noises for me sweetheart.”

Micah eye’s rolled into his head as he cried out.

“You’re mine, all for me— my good boy.”

More moans slipped from his lips.

“Atta boy— taking me so well, so good.”

His back arched and he withered in his embrace

“So eager to please aren’t you? I’ll take care of you now boy.”

“—Arthur! I’m close— Ah, I’m gonna—“

“Go on sweetheart cum for me…that’s it good boy.”

Micah’s whole body when rigid as he finally came. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling out as his orgasm dragged out with each thrust Arthur delivered, eager to chase his own.

He collapsed into the pillow, thighs shaking as he whined at the oversensitivity. It didn’t last long before Arthur’s thrusts changed pace to something more erratic, picking up the pace as he spilled his load inside him.

Arthur groaned into his neck, pulling him close and collapsing into him as he regained his breath.

He pulled out slowly with a wet and obscene pop, sitting up and helping Micah put his clothes back on. Micah only weakly managed to fiddle with the button on his jacket while Arthur gently manhandled his jelly-like limbs to fit back into his pant leg. He used the blanket to wipe the cum off his tummy, a weak attempt at cleaning up and something they would both no doubt regret come tomorrow morning but for now they were keen to sleep after such a horrific and chaotic few days.

Arthur pulled Micah into their original position for the night, the only difference being that his face was now tucked into his chest. Arthur rested his chin of Micah’s head, littering his hair with kisses as he played with his hair between his rough fingers.

Micah was the first to fall asleep, curled up with his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur wasn’t far behind him either, finally letting himself get some much needed rest but not before he pressed a soft kiss to his hairline.

[maybebanks]

Hurting - part 4

link to part 1

link to part 2

link to part 3

jj maybank x reader

Previously: JJ and Y/n’s relationship is tested after the mental and physical difficulties of Y/n’s secret. She’s been an expert at hiding them, but now, he knows, and she has to face all her demons, and letting JJ think bruises are hickies is what she decided to do, to avoid the truth.

You didn’t need to get a job, because you were a ‘kook’ now. So what were you going to do with your summer? It had to be out of the house. And it couldn’t be with your best friends, the pogues.

You brushed the setting powder over your neck and jawline. Taking a deep breath before heading downstairs for breakfast.

You couldn’t face your mom, you were just going to grab some food and leave.

“Honey,” you heard a deep voice say.

You jumped and turned around, “um, yes sir,” you frowned, looking down at the ground.

“You’re mother took an early flight and I’m having a meeting here, so you need to stay in your room today,” your step father stated.

“W-wait, mom’s gone?” Your voice was shakey. You didn’t even get to explain the whole JJ situation.

“Yes.” He said impatiently, “look, doll, I don’t have time for you right now! My associate will be here any minute and if he sees you, we will have a problem,”

You didn’t understand, but you listened.

“Can-can I just get my bag? It’s in the front..um room,” you asked, meekly.

“Damnit you idiot!” He shouts, his fists clenching. You squinted your eyes on instinct, knowing he wants to punch you, knowing you were seconds away from pain.

The doorbell rang.

“Fuck. Get the hell out of my face,” he shoved you aggressively, then left your sight to get the door.

You stumbled, landing on the stairs, on your side. Cursing on impact.

You quickly got up, grabbed your bathing suit and ran out the door. Deciding to escape to the beach.

You put on your navy blue string bikini and quickly dove into the waves. It was weird because the last time you were here, you were with JJ.

He’s always been so sweet to you and you never knew why. Your first day on the island, when no one would talk to you, he came up to you. And being the established, well-liked person that he is, others followed.

You were very shy at first, and JJ didn’t know the real you until about a month in. But he didn’t give up, he was perfect.

You came up for air again. The salt not stinging your eyes.

Friendship. You’ve never had anything close to it until you met JJ.

But it’s too late. He’s gonna stop trying after what you’ve done, after what you’ve let him think you’ve done.

“You cheat on me?”

“W-why?”

“Answer me.”

“JJ...I think you should go,”

“Y/n.”

In your head it was the right decision. But in your heart? You’d die without him.

“Hey! Catch any good waves?!” Someone shouted from the shore.

You turned around from wading on your surf board. Waving to the boy at the shore.

A head of shaggy, long-ish brown haired boy seemed cheery. He threw off his button up and jumped into the waves.

You sighed, you were going to have to talk to this stranger. You almost didn’t have the energy.

“Why haven’t you been...around?” John B asks. You were surprisingly comfortable around him. He was your friend, you just didn’t notice at first.

“Just some...family stuff going on,” you shrugged.

“Ohh right. JJ told us!” He remembered.

“He-he what?” You stutter, afraid of what he might know.

“Yeah, he said your mom was coming home and she hasn’t in a while. That’s really all he said,” John B shrugged, flipping his hair after.

You felt like crying. Your mom wasn’t coming home, she was visiting for less than 12 hours.

“Hey...what happened to your leg?” He asked, swimming closer to you.

“Nothing, haha don’t uh..worry about me. How are..how are you?” You changed the subject.

“Well...oh shit! Did I tell you! I fucked uppp bro! I kissed Kie-“

“You did?!”

“Yeah! And she totally rejected me,” John B admitted.

“Did she like swerve? Or like push you?” You asked, curious about a normal thing for once.

“Nah, we kissed and then she pulled away, and said the no pogue on pogue macking rule. Fuckin JJ found a loophole with that,” he joked.

“A loophole?” You questioned.

“Yeah. Because you’re technically a kook,” John B shrugged.

“I guess,” you sighed.

“Hey, wanna get out of here? The waves are shit,” John B asked.

“Yeah.” You sighed, finally feeling calm for the first time in a while. Afterall it was a good distraction from JJ and everything else.

You and John B swam to shore and you threw a hoodie over your head.

“How good does the Wreck sound right now?” John B chuckled.

“So good,” you laughed, imagining shoving fries in ur mouth right now at the best restaurant in the Outer banks.

-

When you arrived at the restaurant, John B held the door open for you. He wanted to see you smile. You did, a soft curl of the lips, but it faded suddenly.

Something was wrong.

John Bs chest collided with your back, he chuckled. Because you stopped walking and blocked his path foreward.

“What’s up Y/n/n?” John B asked.

“Shut up-“ you said abruptly, John Bs eyes widened.

“Um..sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, just...don’t say my name like that,” you mumbled.

“Why? It’s your nickname right? Are you not cool with me calling you that?” John B questioned.

“No, no. I didn’t mean..just..nevermind,” you sighed. You just didn’t like it when people said your name loud in public places, you didn’t want to be recognized by certain people.

“Okayy? Anyway, let’s do that table in the back,” John B suggested.

“Okay,” you answered, keeping your head down.

He walked you to the table, and to your surprise, Kie arrived to take your orders.

“Hey guys! Is this a date? Or...” she joked. Laughing.

“Very funny Kie. Are you trying to make me lose my appetite? Poor business tactic of you ask me-“

“Hey! You asshole,” you mutter. Dipping your fingers in your water glass and spraying it at him.

John B tried to duck, but then bumped his head on the table.

You and Kie laughed loudly as he groaned in pain.

She could barely stop laughing, “can...ah I take your orders?”

“Yeah...um I’ll get um...John B what are you getting?”

“A cheese burger with no Mayo,” he told Kie.

“Idiot,” she muttered as she wrote it down.

“You want the usual? Fries and-“

“Ooh yes I’ll just have fries and cheese please,” you smiled.

“Yup, you got it. Ok I’ll be back,” she winked before leaving.

“By the way,” John B began, “I just want you to know I’d never make a move on you as long as your with JJ. I mean-Kie was joking in all-“

“John B, don’t worry about it ok?” You interrupted.

“Yeah but...I also wanted to ask you, what’s going on between you and JJ. Eveytime I mention him you get defensive,”

“What are you talking about? No I don’t,” you responded.

“Uh huh,” he said sarcastically.

“Look, the truth is, I just don’t care anymore,” you told him. You knew in your heart it wasn’t true, but it had to be. You couldn’t take back the fact that JJ thought you cheated. So you had to go with it.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” John B said.

“Whatever,” you sighed.

“Oh shit,” John B said, staring at the door.

“W-what? Is he here? Did you invite him? I swear to God,” you said in a hushed tone. You didn’t want to turn around yourself, in case you had to look him in the eye.

“No, chill. It’s..isn’t that your step dad though?” John B asked.

Your moth dropped slightly, “John B don’t say shit like that, your-“ you were about to tell him he was scaring you, but you shouldn’t admit that.

“Look behind you,”

“No I don’t want to,”

“Just look,”

You sighed, and slowly turned.

“Oh-“ you started to respond, but you practically felt your heart stop. Instantly, your breathing picked up.

“What’s going on between you and JJ? Why wouldn’t you want him here?” John B said, trying to pull your attention back to him.

You shook your head, instead of answering. You could hardly form words. Maybe it’s the fact that if your step father sees you here, there’s going to be some contact.

“Whoa relax!” John B said, placing his hand on yours.

Immediately, you pulled your hand away.

He furrowed his brows, confused and offended.

“Sorry.” you muttered.

“You wanna...leave.. I mean ... you wanna get out of here?” You suggested, afraid he would say no.

“What? Why? We didn’t even get our food!” John B exclaimed.

“I..I know. I just..don’t feel like eating anymore.”

“That’s so weird, Y/n. C’mon we can’t leave. Just suck it up for a sec,” John B said shortly. Tapping your shoulder.

“Okay,” you responded. You thought back to JJ. He never made you do stuff you don’t want to. He was just so caring to you. Not that John B wasn’t, just that JJ knew you so well.

A few minutes later, your couldn’t shake the thought that the man you feared the most was behind you. You didn’t have eyes. You didn’t have JJ. You didn’t have anything.

“John B, I don’t feel well I think I’m gonna head out,” you told him, getting up slowly.

“You sure?” He said, analyzing your.

“I um...” for some reason, blurred vision erupted, and you started feeling like you were going to faint.

You stood up slowly. But things were getting worse, and your stance was unsteady.

You gripped the edge of the table for support.

“Y/n...what’s up with you?” John B asked. Sounding annoyed.

For some reason a tear escaped from your eye, you were sorry you were annoying him. So you muttered a quick, “I’m sorry,”

John B stood up, he was now right infront of you. And then, you collapsed. John Bs arms wrapped around you and pulled you into him as you fell.

He was shocked by this. Struggling to hold you up.

No one seemed to pay much attention, but anyone in their right mind would know that they should probobly take you to the hospital. But John B, as did many of the pogues, didn’t always trust authority.

So he took you back to the Chateau, where Sarah, who took a class in Lifeguarding was considerably the doctor instead.

“What happened?!!” Sarah exclaimed as she saw John B carry you out of the van.

“She just passed out. Hey can you help me carry her?” John B grunted.

“Uh..I’ll get JJ,” she said.

“Oh fuck. Wait! I don’t know if that’s such a good idea-“ John B began but Sarah had already called him from working on the boat.

He ran over, his eyes filled with worry. He quickly took you from John B. Carrying you without a problem bridal style.

Inside, he let you down on the couch.

You were slowly coming back to consciousness.

“Put this on her forehead,” Sarah said passing a towel to JJ.

“Hey...hey Y/n. Come back to me okay? Fuck baby. Don’t do this to me alright, wake up,” JJ muttered into your ear.

Moments later, your eyes started to flutter.

To witch JJ sighed in relief, taking your hand and holding it tight in his own.

“Let’s call her parents,” Sarah suggested, grabbing Y/n’s phone.

“Sarah no. Alright? Give me her phone,” JJ demanded.

“No! If I was her my parents would want to know! It’s not normal to just faint-“

“Sarah, give me the fucking phone,” JJ persisted.

John B frowned, “hey watch it, JJ. Don’t talk to her like that bro,”

Sarah frowned, and out of spite began typing on her phone.

JJs temper only grew, he only wanted to protect you.

He grabbed Sarah’s wrists and pulled the phone from her hand.

“Hey!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Dude!” John B interjected.

JJ returned the phone to his pocket.

“Bro, I’m gonna kill you-“ John B said.

“Wait,” you said meekly, “JJ was right, okay? It would only make it worse. Just trust me,”

“But why?” Sarah said concerned.

You shook your head, signaling you couldn’t answer the question.

Sarah sighed and wished you to feel better before leaving.

John B then stepped to JJ, “you’re lucky your girlfriend is so sweet. I would’ve kicked your ass,” John B threatened.

JJ didn’t want to cause a drive between any more of the people he cared about. So he just accepted.

JJ then sat by you, despite what had happened before.

“You really scared me, Y/n.”

“Wasn’t..my intention,” you stifled out, trying to get up.

“Whoa...whoa, can you stay to get some rest? Just stay here for me,” he insisted with a hand on your chest.

“JJ...” you sighed.

“I know it’s not true. I know what you’re doing.”

“Stop. Please.” You pleaded.

“You didn’t cheat on me. Those are bruises aren’t they. They’re not hickies. They’re from him trying to choke you.” JJ explained.

“JJ get away from me. We broke up. I don’t....I don’t-“

“You don’t what? You don’t love me?! Huh! Say it Y/n. Look me in the eyes, and I leave for good,”

“I don’t! I don’t deserve you! You can’t me with me. I’m used, JJ. You deserve a girl that isn’t so-“

“Broken? Y/n, I’m just as fucked up as you. You know my dad hits me right? He beats me. And it’s wrong. And I hate him. But I can’t hate you. Ever. Not for what that sick man has done,”

At this point, you were balling. Wiping tears as soon as they fell.

“JJ...I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying. I thought you would leave.”

“It doesn’t work like that, when I love you more than anything in my entire life,”

“I don’t understand,” you stuttered.

“Understand what?”

“Even after you know what he does. How could you look at me, and still love me?”

“That doesn’t change all I’ve known as soon as I met you. And if you need me to prove it to you, I will.”

-

thx for reading ❤️

@mavelfanatic @my-therapist-hates-me @rudypankowswife @harrypottersgirl @themaddies-obx taglist

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 12

[see all chapters]

Read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

---

The alarm was blaring.

Danny recognized the noise immediately. But his eyes were still slow to open, his arms were slow to turn off the offending sound, and his brain was slow to recognize that the white ceiling above him was just his bedroom ceiling.

His body was numb. Nothing felt real.

He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and unlocked it. The screen was too bright, but he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. What was a little eye strain to him, really?

There were text messages, but Danny ignored them. The government likely already read them first, so if they were important, Danny would probably have woken up back in his cell rather than his cozy bed.

Ghosts like Danny didn’t get to have comfort. He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

“You’re a feral beast.” Operative O’s deep voice rained down on him. “You need to be trained.”

Danny opened the Twitter app only to be faced with a crushing amount of notifications and his name on the top of the trending list.

He should have felt nervous. Anxiety should have gripped his stomach. But...it didn’t.

He felt nothing.

Numb.

He clicked on his name and scrolled through the tweets. As he suspected, that damn video of him at the PHP littered his screen.

Protests have begun to break out near the health clinic Phantom is attending. [image]

I don’t understand, why doesn’t he just fly into the building or something? Can he not fly?

Is phantom over?

It’s so gross how people feel the need to harass a teenager trying to recover from trauma.

imagine being a teen trying to get emergency mental help and then THAT walks into ur class 

What the fuck did the government do to him? 

He was numb.

Nobody knew what really happened in there, and Danny wanted so badly to keep it that way. And the worst part was, he thought that if he just forgot about it, tried to move past it, then it would all go away. And no one would ever know.

Except Vlad did find out. Somehow, Vlad had managed to get a hold of classified government files about Danny, and if what he had implied was true, then he had learned everything. 

And if Vlad knew, then…

No. He wasn’t going to think about it. 

Danny knew from the moment he’d stupidly revealed himself that his life was not his own anymore. He knew that he was going to be nothing but a government possession from that moment till the day he died.

He didn’t deserve to get upset over this.

He pulled up a blank tweet and started typing. His movements were robotic. Stilted. But one slip-up, just one reason for the public to get suspicious, and Danny knew that some seedy corner of the internet would pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper into Danny’s life than he was comfortable with.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Thank you everyone for the support. I’m back home with my family and am healing.

Before he could question what he was doing, his finger was already pressing send on the tweet. He watched as almost immediately, notifications popped up in his inbox. 

But he didn’t open his notifications, he didn’t look at the replies. Instead, he closed the app and shut his phone off.

He didn’t care anymore.

Maddie knocked on the door and asked him a question, and he responded with the right answer for her to leave. He got up and started his new morning routine of sitting in the shower for ten minutes, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast before leaving for six hours of mandatory therapy.

He stared out the window, watching the morning traffic pass by him. He couldn’t remember if he shampooed his hair or if he just sat under the scalding water. But it was fine. He was just a government-issued robot now. Whatever.

There were people lining the highway when Danny pulled into the PHP center. They were shouting different things, holding different signs, their cameras armed and ready as soon as the GAV came into view. The police were there, making sure no one escaped into the parking lot, and there were therapists waiting outside.

They didn’t know. They had no idea what Danny had gone through, why he was there.

And it didn’t matter. Not to them, not to Danny, not to the police or the news stations filming the scene or to the government or Vlad or anyone else. 

Danny wasn’t in charge of his life anymore. 

He was only here because the government had decided he could stay free. 

For now.

The therapists escorted him into the building. Danny felt hollow. Sick.

No, he was fine.

Maddie hugged him, told him to have a good day, that she’d be back to bring him to more therapy after, and Danny nodded. At least, he thought he remembered to nod. He might not have, though.

There was a window in the lobby. A white van was parked along the street.

The APC news van.

Jazz was right. Danny was just being paranoid about the white van outside of their house before. He was so stupid. 

Even if it wasn’t a news van, what would it matter? He didn’t control his life, what would he care if they finished him off in some back alley? What would it matter if they snuck him into their van and held him captive for the rest of his life in some damp containment cell?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Danny spaced out for the morning meeting. He couldn’t remember if he managed to read off his paper for the other teens. His voice wasn’t working today. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything was numb.

They had art therapy today, run by a tall, lanky man with sandy hair and a clean-shaven face. He told the group to paint what they were feeling today, to channel their emotions onto their blank sheets of paper.

But Danny felt nothing. He had nothing to give.

He must have stared at his paper for too long, because the therapist tried to talk to him, ask him if he was alright, if he was having trouble with the exercise.

Danny didn’t respond, instead choosing to pick up the green paint and squeeze some of it directly onto his paper, rules be damned. It was too dark, so he grabbed the white paint and smeared it into the green. The color still wasn’t right, but Danny didn’t know enough about art to make it right, so he just kept spreading green across his paper. A dash of yellow, then some white, more green.

Time was up. His paper was green. 

“Good job, Danny. What do you think?” the therapist asked.

Danny stared at the paper, studying the streaks of yellow within the brush strokes. “It’s not the right shade of ectoplasm.”

The day continued with more emotion-managing lessons and group activities but Danny didn’t care and nobody could understand that. He was done with this, he was tired, it didn’t matter.

It was lunchtime, and Danny had no appetite. It felt like he had just eaten breakfast. His stomach was still full, but he had a sandwich sitting in front of him that he needed to eat or else they would tell his parents.

Danny held the sandwich between his fingers. It looked like sandpaper.

He didn’t want to eat it.

The therapist was looking at him. She was probably talking to him too, asking him questions about his day. But Danny ignored her. After all, didn’t he need to eat this lunch? How could he possibly eat and talk at the same time?

The teens were talking around him, but Danny blocked them all out too.

They were noisy.

It was like they weren’t even there.

Danny wasn’t human. He didn’t care. 

But you do care. 

He didn’t.

He was numb. 

Eat up like a good little dog. 

I’m not a dog.

Something inside him snapped, and he yanked on his cold core, channeling all his energy to his fingertips. His fingers tingled out of the tangible field, and the sandwich fell to the table.

“Whoa!” The blonde girl jumped, her eyes trained on Danny’s transparent skin.

“Danny?” 

There was an audience. Danny had forgotten about them. His core faltered, and the power faded from his fingertips. 

He should have felt embarrassed by this emotional display. He should have felt horrified that he’d allowed himself to act so inhuman and disgusting in front of these innocent bystanders.

But he was still numb.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was bored.”

“That was sick!” the brunette boy chimed in. “You can do that on command?”

“Usually.” Danny’s gaze flickered over to the therapist, who was giving him a strange look. He turned his attention back to the fallen sandwich. 

Maybe he would get kicked out of the program for this. For being too dangerous. That would probably be for the better. Then he could go free into the world. No more schedule, no more therapy, no more dissecting his emotions or talking about his trauma. 

Who cared about his trauma, anyway? Certainly not him.

“So you still have your ghost powers, then?” the blonde girl asked. “People were saying online that you lost them. The government took them or whatever.”

Danny brought his hand up to his face, willing his fingers to fade to invisibility. “They’re locked. But...I...they’re there. I’ll get them back.”

He would get them back. He needed them. 

Especially now.

Which was how he found himself sitting quietly outside his mother’s door. Waiting. He should have knocked probably, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He didn’t know why, he knew he should just go back to his room, go to sleep, stop bothering his parents about this, but he needed his core back.

His mom would understand. She was a ghost biology expert, right? She would get why he needed his core back now.

He raised his fist to knock, but he must have already knocked before because the door opened, revealing his mother dressed in teal pajamas on the other side. 

“Danny?” She frowned, her brows pulling cautiously above her eyes. “What are you doing up, sweetie? Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” His voice was scratchy. He broke eye contact, staring down at his lap. “My—my core.”

“Something wrong?”

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I need it back.”

“Sweetheart,” she said in a patient tone. “We talked about this.”

“No. you talked.”

She sighed. “Danny, it’s nearly eleven. Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No. No. I need it.”

“I told you, hun, your core and body need time to heal properly first before we make any drastic changes to your physiology. Just give it a few more weeks, alright?”

“Weeks?” Danny’s voice rose in alarm. 

“I promise it’ll be all worth it.”

Static rang in his ears, and a steel claw clutched at his stomach.

His mom didn’t understand. Why would she? She was human. Humans would never get it. She didn’t understand. 

“No, I can’t…”

“Danny, you need to trust me. Your body needs to rest.”

“You don’t understand.”

She regarded him for a moment before opening her door fully. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, then. You can tell me why this is so important to you.”

Danny peered inside the door, at the surprisingly average-looking bedroom before him. He could go in, tell his mother just how wrong he felt cut off from his core, how he was being blackmailed by Vlad, how there was a distinct record of every detail of what the Guys in White had done to him, how he had never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable in his life.

But he wouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could put it all into words. He was a ghost, she was a human. He couldn’t explain this to her.

Skulker and Vlad may have forced his revelation, but they gave him more secrets than he could ever have dreamt of handling.

Danny turned away. “It’s fine. Good night.”

“Hun…”

“Night, Mom.”

There was a tense silence before Maddie finally relented. “I love you, Danny.”

“You too,” he said reflexively. The words tasted sour on his tongue.

She didn’t understand. If she truly loved him, she would give him his core back right now, but she didn’t.

No, he was just being paranoid. This was just his Obsession talking. He didn’t need his core, he was just as much human as he was ghost. So what if he had to be a little more human for the next few weeks? Isn’t that what he’d always wanted?

To just be a regular human?

Maybe that was what his mother wanted. Maybe that was why she was postponing removing the chip. Maybe she was too afraid to see her son as a monster. A ghost. 

But that was crazy. She loved him.

She was telling the truth. 

His parents accepted him.

---

“You seem quiet today.”

Danny leaned back against the sofa, his arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde figure sitting before him. The stress ball sat untouched on the table next to him.

He didn’t feel like doing therapy today. He didn’t want to talk. 

His mom was human, his therapist was human. No one was going to get it.

“What’s on your mind, Danny?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He was fine. There was nothing to talk about. Even if there were things to talk about—and there weren’t, this was all just his Obsession going haywire—it wouldn’t matter anyway because he was defenseless and the government was going to kidnap him again. It was only a matter of time.

“You finished your first week with the PHP group today, right? How has that been going?”

“Fine.”

“Can you tell me about some of the activities you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat there for a moment, as if giving him time to elaborate. But Danny wasn’t going to elaborate. He didn’t feel like talking today. 

He looked out the window. The leaves had changed color, the ripe greens fading to yellows, oranges, and reds. In another few weeks, the ground would be littered with fallen leaves.

Summer had barely just begun when he was dragged from his house, drugged, and locked away. And yet, even though his entire world had come to a halt, time still moved on.

The clatter of the therapist’s clipboard falling on a side table jolted Danny out of his musing. He flinched, his eyes snapping over to see the therapist rising from her chair. 

She stretched her arms behind her back and walked over to the closet. “You know what? It’s been a long day. Wanna play a game?”

“Um...are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” She grabbed a box out of the closet and placed it down in the center of the room.

Danny peered at it in confusion. “Jenga? Of—of all the games out there, you’re really gonna make me...make me get on the floor for Jenga?” 

“Oh, come on, it’s fun.”

“You must throw some wild parties,” he remarked, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he slid off the couch and slowly scooched himself towards the middle of the room. As long as he didn’t have to explain why he was two seconds away from ripping his own core out of his chest, he would go along with whatever game she threw at him.

The therapist carefully tipped the box upside down, sliding the lid up to reveal a tower of multi-colored wooden tiles jigsawed together.

“So here’s our marvelous tower,” she said. “You can reach that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“So normal Jenga rules. We switch off trying to remove a piece without causing the tower to collapse. Except, for this game, after you remove a piece, you’re going to pick a card from this stack—” She pointed to a deck of large cards set up next to the Jenga tower. “—and then answer the question on the card that’s the same color. So if I take a purple tile out, I’ll answer the purple question on the card. Got it?”

Danny glanced between the cards and his therapist’s eager face. He was fairly certain Jenga never involved a set of cards before.

Maybe he’d forgotten the rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time his brain had betrayed him. “Am I being quizzed?”

“Don’t worry.” She pushed up the sleeves of her blue cardigan. “They’re just basic therapy questions. Nothing too bad.”

No. This was a trick, wasn’t it? To get him to talk?

He wasn’t going to fall for it. “I thought we weren’t—weren’t doing that...today.” 

“The questions aren’t too deep. Honestly, I mostly just use this game as an icebreaker for new clients. But Jenga’s pretty fun all the same.”

He must have still looked too suspicious, because she threw him an easy smile and went, “Here, I’ll go first.” She carefully nudged a green tile out of the stack and drew a card. “Okay, so the green question on here says, ‘Describe yourself in three words.’ Well, I’d say I’m kind, I think I’m rather nerdy, and I’m a bit of a cat lady.”

That...wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would be an easy game. 

He doubted any of the questions asked him about his core. Maybe he could loosen up a bit, go along with this icebreaker game, if only for an hour before sinking back into his internal panic. 

“Cat lady?” he tried.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised that’s never come up! I have two at home.”

Right, his therapist had a life outside of therapy. Outside of his problems.

But it wasn’t like he knew her name. At this point, it was just too embarrassing to ask. Maybe she had told him that she had cats, and he just couldn’t remember. Maybe he would forget it again tomorrow.

Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t care about things he didn’t remember. “Uh…” Danny pushed a purple tile out of the tower. “So I just pick up a—um, a card?”

“Yup, and read the purple question.”

Danny looked down at his card and rolled his eyes. “Oh, figures. ‘If you had superpowers, what would they be?’ Well, I’m dead. Does being dead count?”

She laughed, her voice light and airy. “Of all the questions, huh? Okay, let’s modify this a bit. If you could only keep one of your powers, which would you take?”

“Probably intangibility,” Danny said, his lack of hesitation surprising him.

“Oh? Why?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Where the chip was. “It’s the most useful, isn’t it? I can just...you know...I have no physical stuff in my way. I can just phase through any—anything I need. Or—no. Almost anything.”

Not shields. Those could still trap him.

Thankfully, she didn’t try to pry further, just offering him a kind nod and a “that makes sense” before pushing out another Jenga tile. “Blue! Alright, my question is, ‘What is your favorite feature about yourself?’ Hmm...that’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. When I was a teen, I used to straighten my hair, but then when I got to college, I stopped doing that and just let it be. Now I quite like my curly hair. Okay, your turn!”

“Okay.” Danny leaned over and pushed a red tile out of the tower. “Okay...my quest—question is…‘What is your biggest hope for your future?’ Oh...”

He did want to be an astronaut. But that was before, when he was still human. And then he was caught between thousands of volts of ecto-electricity and that future vanished right before his eyes.

What did he want to do with his life? What did he hope would happen?

He wanted his core back. He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable for much longer. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, he needed to—

Breathe. And answer the question.

What did he hope for his future?

“I don’t know. My future’s kinda...ruined, isn’t it?”

“Try to think on a smaller scale.”

“I…” Danny ran a hand through his hair. He wanted his core back, he wanted to be Phantom, he wanted to protect Amity Park. But he couldn’t say that. It made him sound too ghostly. Too inhuman.

Humans didn’t have these kinds of otherworldly desires. She would think he was a freak if he told her. She wouldn’t know how to react.

“I want to finish PT.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Your turn.”

Humming, she nudged a tile out of the Jenga tower and flipped over a card. “Okay, my question is, ‘What is something you were worried about when you were younger?’ Let me think…oh, here’s one. When I was young, my older sister moved out to live with her boyfriend. It was really scary because I had never lived without her, but we kept in touch and everything turned out okay.”

“I haven’t either. Lived away from Jazz I mean. Like—like for real. But she’s going to college next—next semester. I think she, uh...deferred a semester.”

“And you know, it’s common to feel worried about a sibling moving out. Periods of transition in life can be the most stressful for us, but it’s important to recognize that things will be okay.”

Danny looked down at the carpet. “I guess.”

Some days it felt like Jazz was the only one truly on his side. He was a lab rat, too well known and too hated to ever have a future, forever condemned to a vicious cycle of evading people like the Guys in White and Vlad for the rest of his life. Jazz was leaving him in a few months, his friends would follow in a few years, and in the end, Danny would be alone.

But he was fine with that. He’d accepted it. It was just his life now, there was nothing to say about it.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Go right ahead.”

Danny removed another tile. “‘How do you think others view you and why?’” He paused, throwing the therapist a bitter look. “This is rigged.”

“Not rigged, that’s just a very lucky pick.”

“Lucky to who?” Danny groaned. 

What was with the universe finding new ways to torment him?

“Humor me,” the therapist said patiently.

Danny glared at his card, tapping his fingers against the edge. It wasn’t like the public opinion of him was exactly a secret, but it still hurt. Constantly. Like some scab he kept telling himself to ignore, but ignoring it was impossible because the public would never leave him alone.

“Not good,” Danny muttered. “People hate me.”

“Being in the public eye is very stressful for anyone, but to be unique in your way adds on an entirely different layer. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand, and that makes them forget that at the end of the day, you’re still a person.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s eyes were trained on the colorful tower before him, which was starting to blur as the prickling behind his eyes increased. He ducked his head and blinked, hoping to save face before it was too late. 

“That doesn’t mean everyone feels this way, though. But sometimes it can feel that way to you because the ones who are the most afraid, the most hateful, are the loudest voices in the crowd. But remember, Danny, you won that court case for a reason. You have more people on your side than you think.”

“I won it for now, you mean. I don’t...I don’t think…” His voice failed, and he pressed his fingernails into his palms. He took a few shaky breaths. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Why don’t we talk about the case for a minute?”

Tucker’s words echoed in his head, how it was televised. How millions of people all around the globe probably tuned in for it, or watched streams online, each person with their own opinion of him.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now. 

“No,” he said. “Can we—can we just continue the game?”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” She pushed a block out of the tower. “So...alright, my question is, ‘What memory do you treasure the most?’ To that, I think fishing with my dad as a child. He was a big support for me when I was growing up, and I really valued our times fishing together as important bonding moments for us.”

Danny nodded politely, trying his best to not appear like he was counting down the seconds until therapy was over.

He could feel his emotions building inside him, threatening to topple the carefully constructed dam guarding his secrets. This was such a simple game, these were such simple questions, so why did he feel like he was failing?

He pushed out a Jenga tile—a red tile—from the tower and grabbed a card, scanning the questions until he found the red one.

What are you afraid of?

The words echoed back to him, and he pushed the card away. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to read those words or hear her voice because saying the question would mean he would have to talk and he only agreed to this stupid game to get out of talking.

There was so much he was afraid of that he had no right to be afraid of. Because he deserved this. Getting revealed was his fault, he was being reckless. He deserved all of it.

The experiments with the Guys in White. The pain, the way his skin was torn apart. How they threw him in a vat of ectoplasm the next day to heal, and how the ectoplasm entering his lungs made him feel like he was drowning because even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe, he still used those organs reflexively as Phantom. But he was in too much pain and his brain was too hazy to fight back. He could only sink into the darkness.

The red bag. The way it tasted, smelled, how it haunted him every day and how he revisited those moments every night in his dreams. How he would wake up each day and the drawer on his nightstand would be shimmering in the morning sun, as if tempting him to open it up, grab the bottle inside, let it help just for one day. It can take the edge off, he can be functional. Who cares if he’s cheating? It’s just for a day...

The public. The people. Their judgments, their words. How he was, on a molecular level, so vastly different from them. How he could never be the same. He would never have a normal life, he could never have a normal job, a normal family, normal friendships, ever again. There would always be something there, something alien between them.

Even between him and his best friends. There was just something... different ever since the portal accident. It had brought them closer together, sure, but in other ways it had also driven an invisible wedge between them. Because Danny would always have his powers, he would always be a half ghost, and there would always be things now that Sam and Tucker would never understand. 

How much would change now? Now that he was in the public eye, now that he’d gone through government torture? Now that his brain didn’t work the same?

And his core. His humanity. Why were his parents so apprehensive about it?

What are you afraid of?

Why wouldn’t his parents let him down into the lab? What were they hiding? They said his core was damaged, but it had been months since he was ripped open. His surgical damage had healed, his broken bones were back to normal, and even though his nerve endings in his chest and spine were still fried, they had been slowly mending themselves too.

Ectoplasm healed faster than human physiology. His core should have been fine by now.

What was the truth?

“They accept me,” Danny said automatically.

“Who does?”

Who accepted him?

Sam and Tucker did. 

His family…

Did they?

“I don’t know.”

“You have people in your corner, Danny. Your parents, your sister, your close friends. They all care about you. We’re all here for you, even if those loud voices in the public tell you otherwise.”

But if they cared...

“Then why won’t they let me have my core back?”

“Your core?”

“My powers. My ghostliness. Ectoplasm.” Danny let his eyes flair to emphasize his point.

If his therapist was scared of his otherworldly display, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued to look at him with her neutral expression, free of the judgment he’d come to expect from people since the accident.

And for some reason he couldn’t explain, that irritated him. 

“You mean the inhibitor chip?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me it was because my core...it was damaged but—but it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t...”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Of course he had. They kept repeating that his core was damaged. And they were probably right—for a time, at the very least. But that was months ago. 

Why hadn’t they scanned his core recently? Shouldn’t they be happy to learn it was healed? Shouldn’t that make them relieved?

What were they afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

“Do you think it would be helpful if I talked to your mother about this?” asked the therapist. “As a way to introduce the topic? She likely doesn’t know how much it’s bothering you.”

But that didn’t make sense either because Danny brought his core up every day. His parents knew how much it was bothering him. They had to have known, right?

So why were they doing this to him?

What were they hiding?

What are you afraid of?

---

Danny tried to remember a time where walking from his living room to his kitchen didn’t require a list of steps to be taken beforehand—a time where he could just get up and walk. But those memories were far too distant now.

And besides, this was his reality now. A reality where something as simple as walking made his head spin.

He shouldn’t dwell on the memories of how easy it used to be for him, he shouldn’t have snapped at Jazz for getting a cup of water for him because he knew the glasses were too high to reach from his wheelchair, he shouldn’t allow this irrational anger to overtake him every time the creeping anxiety of his future as Amity Park’s ghost hero came into question.

He just needed to focus on where he was now. Curled up on his couch avoiding his parents.

Everything felt wrong this morning when he woke up. For a moment, he had managed to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. That it was just his damaged nerve endings freaking out as normal. That once he took his medication, his problems would go away. 

But they didn’t. He still felt wrong. His chest still felt wrong.

It was manifesting in other ways too. He couldn’t walk as long today at PT. His physical therapist told him it was just a bad day and that his body was probably just tired from his busy week. But Danny knew that wasn’t right.

It had nothing to do with him being tired. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t anxious.

His core was the problem. His parents were the problem.

He tried asking about his core again on the way home from PT, using conversation techniques he went over with his therapist at the end of their last appointment, but Maddie just brushed him off. Said they would talk about it later.

But then later came and...she didn’t.

Danny tried asking his father, but he brushed Danny off too. Said Danny needed to focus on healing first.

But how was he supposed to heal when he was missing half of himself?

He felt wrong. So wrong. His body was too bound by gravity, it was too empty, it wasn’t listening to him.

He pressed his palms into his forehead. His hands were clammy. Shaking. Speckles of cold touched them—or was that his tears? Was he crying? 

No.

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way?

The government had him in a cage. They tormented him in ways he would rather die than live through again. But then it ended, and he was freed. He was allowed to go home, he could live his life as a legal person again. 

Except, he wasn’t free. Not at all. He was still trapped here in Amity, in his house, in his body. He had no control. Not over what he ate, when he slept, where he went, what he could say, what he could think. 

Half of him was still locked up tight with no hope of escape.

His water glass was empty. It would have been too embarrassing to ask someone to help him, but he was so thirsty and dehydrated and he just really needed this to work. He needed his body to respond to him. For one moment, please, just let his body respond.

Gripping the water cup in one hand and his walker in the other, he tried to stand, to walk over to the kitchen sink. But balancing everything was so difficult, his body was still fatigued from PT, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it but he just needed to try.

But he couldn’t do it in the end. The cup slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the carpet, thankfully saved from shattering on impact by some last shred of luck the universe decided to pity him with.

And now Danny too was on the floor because he couldn’t bend down to pick the cup back up like a normal person, and he didn’t want to call for help, and he couldn’t use any of his powers, and he felt so trapped. So helpless. So vulnerable.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was too stubborn and he was too useless.

A tear splattered against his hand, and he gripped the floor, his body trembling.

“Stop crying. Stop it.” he hissed. 

He was weak. 

Plasmius, once nearly his equal, had so severely overpowered him the other night. It was embarrassing. On the hierarchy of ghosts, where was he now? At the bottom with the blob ghosts?

But those ghosts could still fly. They could still turn intangible. Things that Danny couldn’t even do.

Hell, he was so weak that even the Box Ghost could defeat him now.

“Stop crying.”

He crawled back to the couch, the thought of getting water abandoned on the floor along with the last semblance of his dignity. Another tear fell from his cheek, and he desperately tried to ignore it, ignore his dry throat, ignore the pain in his chest, ignore his core and the Y-scar on his body and his new place in the ghost hierarchy as lower than dirt, ignore everything. Just focus on getting back to the couch. Shut down, go numb.

He was fine, he was okay.

He just needed to push through this. Just toughen up, quit whining. Life wasn’t fair. So what if he was now just a regular human? Hadn’t he been human for the first fourteen years of his life? He needed to suck it up.

Dragging himself back onto the safety of the couch cushions, he pulled one of Jazz’s throw blankets around his body and pressed a pillow into his face.

Never in his life had he been so tempted to scream, to curse, to finally let the last brick fall and allow hell to break loose. But his parents were in the basement, Jazz was upstairs, and he was fine. 

He was fine.

---

Huge thank you to tumblr user and writer @imekitty for proofreading this chapter. She’s amazing and I owe her my life.

And as always, thanks for reading!

---

<previous chapter / next chapter>

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: v

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||   chapter 3   ||  chapter 4   ||  chapter 6  || 

word count: ~4k

coming to terms now, are we?

warnings: descriptions of medical settings, discussion of surgery and injury but nothing graphic, god fluff, nasty big fluff

——

wow. halfway through y’all. thank you to each and every ONE of you who have given this story a chance. enjoy some fluff and get ready for next week 👀 once again, beta-ed by the wuv @keiqos !!

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Exhaustion had long since clawed a hole in your skull. 

It was one of the many forms of malefactum that came from your fucking quirk, damn it to hell. The days following any sort of intense overstimulation episode of yours were always hellish. Constant fatigue, burning migraines, dry eyes, and confusion always waited for you by the time you rolled out whatever pushed you over the edge.

The villain attack was probably the worst episode you’d had, ever. 

The entire trip to the hospital had been sort of a nightmare. There were so many people that needed treatment after the attack, so many of them worse off than yourself. You were lucky enough to get into a dark hospital room fairly quickly, allowing some of your symptoms to dull. 

You were just coherent and aware enough to deal with everyone you needed to, paperwork and legalities of your visit sorted. You even managed to send a few texts to your parents and work groupchat to confirm that you were safe. 

After a myriad of late-night tests and exams, it was confirmed that the next morning, you’d have a procedure to mend your leg.

...

Fixing the internal damage to your leg caused by the tearing of the glass was a fairly quick affair, according to your kind-smiled surgeon.

“I know it seemed abrupt, to do it so quickly,” The surgeon stuffed her hands in the pocket of her scrubs. “But, we’ve flown in extra medical personnel to help deal with injuries from the attack and well, you’re an easy fix.”

You smiled, the best you could, groggy with the anesthetic, “I’m glad it isn’t too bad.”

“Nope! Not at all,” She laughed, far too pleasant for all the chaos just outside your dimly lit hospital room. “We’ll keep you here tonight, and you should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon. You’ll need to keep weight off of that leg for about three weeks. We’ll have a follow-up appointment then, and make sure you’re healing alright. Sound good?”

You nodded, some tension releasing from your chest.

The procedure left you with a heavy plastic boot, clasped up to your knee. Not to mention your body ached with fatigue. 

Most of the rest of that day was spent spinning in and out of sleep, only waking for basic checks and a delivery of flowers you received from the teashop’s owners complete with a passive-aggressive reminder that ‘this had nothing to do with us, you can’t sue <3.’

 Your constant company was Hawks’s scarlet feather. As you moved through the bends of your quirk and post-surgical recovery, you held onto it like a lifeline. With each stroke of the soft filaments, your heart rate monitor would beep slower and slower towards a relaxed rhythm. 

It made you think of him, and how he felt with your quirk activated. 

Despite how shitty the circumstances were, really feeling Keigo with your quirk was heavenly. Feeling him in general, physically was a fucking blessing. You spent a lot of time that night and first day at the hospital fantasizing about how the beat of his heart felt like amber drops on your tongue and orange-bound warmth in your chest.

You wanted more of it.

 Keigo stayed around to help deal with the mess, for once in his career. It was weird for him to spend the following day after the attack helping out on the scene. It was even weirder for the other Pros around that were aware of his reputation of simply not doing that.

It was out of character for him.

But, then again, Keigo hadn’t ever spent as much time at someplace he enjoyed like the teashop. Hell, the whole street. He’d patrolled plenty of areas for long stretches of time, but he’d never grown attached.

You were, obviously, a big part of that.

Seeing you hurt left him frazzled and fucked, and staying behind to help pick up the mess and provide aid made him feel a hell of a lot better. Sure, it was different, having local Pros look to him for guidance when he had to purely rely on his training from the Commission as opposed to his professional experience. He did well, he knew, especially based on the way the scene calmed even when he simply flew around.

Keigo had the power to bring people ease, even if he struggled with it himself. 

The idea made him think back to you, undoubtedly still in pain, but more than likely entirely fine. He ignored the urge to text you anxiously as he was still parsing over the very sweet interaction the two of you had, even if it was in such a bad circumstance. 

Your sweetness at the end was his constant reminder that you would be okay. 

The implication and Keigo’s knowledge post- ‘the miel incident,’ as he was calling it, was obvious, and god, he wanted to fucking drown in it. The thought of having you so close that he could hear your heartbeat and feel the drum of your voice against your chest made him weak. 

He was so fucking weak for you.

It was distracting, as it always was. It seemed fairly unavoidable especially as anxiety chewed at him. The one thing that lulled him was the far off feeling of the feather he had tucked in your hand. It had to be close to you still, the beat of your heart sending him shudders if he focused on it hard enough.

It became too much, thinking of you.

As his feathers swept piles of rubble, he pulled out his phone, the sun beginning to sink in the evening sky. 

 You had spent most of your recovery time in and out of consciousness, enjoying the time to rest and sleep. 

A short buzz from your phone forced you into a half-wakeful state. You reached to the table next to the hospital bed, grappling for your phone.

 [birdboy]: hey r u alive, 

[birdboy]: how r u feeling

[birdboy]: speak 2 me

 You cracked a sleepy smile. 

 [you]: alive, tired, surgery-ied. 

 You took a quick snap of your booted, propped up foot.

 [you]: getting discharged tomorrow babyyyy

[birdboy]: oh fuck what happened?

[birdboy]: u sure ur good

 The feather against your collarbone twitched, filaments waving. You thought little of it.

 [you]: i tore some shit in my leg

[you]: and yes, just tired as fuck and want to be home

[you]: hospitals SUCK

[birdboy]: true, true

[birdboy]: would u... 

[birdboy]: like a visit perhaps?

[you]: u sure??

[you]: i know ur busy and i dont wanna use up ur freetime

 There was a pause in Keigo’s nearly instant responses.

 [birdboy]: dove.

 Your breath stuttered in your chest. That was newer; you only remembered it vaguely from the . It felt far more intimate than just ‘angel,’ and it made you shiver as you read it.

 [birdboy]: busy schedule??

[birdboy]: i’ll make the time angel

[birdboy]: i’d love to come visit u

 You couldn’t help the smitten expression that burst across your face.

 [you]: and i’d love to see you

 You wished you could’ve continued the conversation, but your night nurse knocked to offer you pain medication and sedatives and you couldn’t say no to more rest. Your mind and body needed it. 

As quickly as it was administered, you were out again. 

 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 You were exhausted. Still. 

When you heard voices just outside of your door, you couldn’t help cracking open your dry eyes. It seemed far too early for them to collect your vitals. The room was still dark, large windows only showing a trace of the dawn’s light stretching from the east.

Your sleep-addled mind stretched to listen:

“Thank you so much for the autograph! My son is such a huge fan of yours.”

“Oh, really! Tell him I say hi! I really adore my fans.”

Giggling.

“Is she a fan?”

“Sort of, more of a friend of mine.”

 He... said it again.

 A shaft of light sprayed into the room, your quirk firing at the sudden intrusion. You groan, pawing at your eye with your fist, the feather held between your fingers blocking some of the light.

Even with your diminished vision and tired mind, you still caught it when he laughed at your reaction, stepping into the room.

Honey, softness, cream and heat that made your chest thrum like embers.

“H-Hawks?” Your voice was still itchy with sleep. 

“That’s me.” His laugh rolled over you as your quirk receded, palms thrumming with the silkenness of his voice, “It’s good to see you, dove.”

“S’nice to see you too,” Your chest thrummed with his words and you couldn’t restrain the smile that spread across your face, “‘Ya know, you woke me up, just now.”

Hawks gave you a little chuckle, moseying his way to a chair nearby the bed and window, “Sorry about that. I had to sneak in here before official visiting hours so I didn’t cause a ‘scene’.”

You snorted. 

“You, causing a scene?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him, “Hawks? Never. Not once.”

He stifled a laugh, dragging the thinly-padded chair closer to the bed and leaning back into it, “Glad to see you’re in good spirits, considering you’re still here and all.”

“From what I can tell, it could be a lot worse, especially compared to other people that were there,” The end of your sentence turned sullen, your expression darkening. 

Hawks let out a little sigh, “It wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. But, you’re safe, and most folks are safe. Bright side.”

“Bright side.” You repeated, softer, looking up from the plain sheets to meet his gaze. 

You took him in, quickly. 

He looked a bit worse for wear, the exhaustion from the days before still visible on his features. The dark circles under his eyes almost looked worse, perhaps uncovered and deeper since the attack. His wings weren’t even visible from your angle, plucked too short and sparse to be of much use. 

But, Hawks was, undoubtedly, still stunning. 

It was almost distracting, how unavoidable mentally eating him up was. You’d felt what he was like during the attack and that had apparently broken some mental dam for you. Holding back just how much you liked him seemed futile, at least mentally. 

You would let yourself be honest, at least with yourself, as a treat. 

What probably also pushed you over the edge was the fact that he wasn’t in his hero uniform, for once. You’d only ever seen him in his tan and black get up before. Seeing him casually dressed was shocking and very hot.

Hawks wore a simple black long sleeve with a long, wool jacket over it, black jeans, nothing seemingly extravagant except for the nicer looking chunky sneakers he wore and the fat gold watch on his wrist. It was all designer, knowing his paycheck. Without all of his normal regalia, you could better see that his pierced ears carried some light yellow stones that played off his eyes.

His feathery golden waves were messy, falling over his forehead and temples. The curves and angles of his jaw looked accented by the rising dawn light that was just beginning to filter into the room. There was the smallest quirk in his plump lips, but it hardly detracted from how stunning he was. 

He was remarkably gorgeous, naturally, and you let yourself think about it freely.

 Keigo felt a bit bad, seeing you in your state. 

He tried to be subtle, looking you up and down, heart-thumping his chest as the feather in your hand-picked up your own pulse. It had sped up when he entered the room, even more so when you started to beam at him despite your state.

You looked like a bit of a mess, and with anyone else, Keigo might’ve indulged himself in being a little bit of sarcastic shit about it, but he didn’t with you. It didn’t seem right. 

Your booted foot was propped up, a hospital gown askew over your collarbones under some thin blankets you were nested underneath. Your dark circles could’ve been worse, but your eyes were shining and alert, all directed on him it made him ache all over in the best way.

 The feather twitched in your hand, your gaze darting to it. Heat spread across your cheeks. 

“Oh, uh, shit,” You stretched your arm to pass the feather back to him. “Here’s this back. Sorry, I’ve kinda been holding on to it... a lot.”

“It’s alright, that’s why I gave it to you,” Hawks assured you, the feather whisking from your hand on its own and back to the downy stubs that Hawks had left. “Just a little reminder that good ol’ Number Two is looking out for you.”

You hardly needed a reminder. Thoughts of Hawks had been filling your head since it had stopped from swirling from your quirk. The thought of him leaving a bit of him with you only warmed your insides. 

“How could I ever forget?” You leaned back into your pillows, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Thank you, Hawks.”

Hawks blinked at you, reaching down to rustle something down by his feet, “For?”

“You know, saving my ass.”

“That’s my job, angel.”

“Still. You thank me every time I make you your drinks, right?” You shrugged at his wide-eyed expression. “Same principle. Except, your life isn’t on the line when I make you lattes.”

“Oh, angel,” Hawks drawled and deflected. “That is a false statement. I rely on those. They’re my lifeblood.”

A little realization dawned on you.

You gave him a sad little smile, rubbing your own knuckles for some semblance of comfort, “It’s gonna be a while until I can provide anything life-giving, then.”

The teashop was destroyed and who knew how long I’d be until they reopened. Not to mention that your leg was post opt and you couldn’t exactly work on it. 

Practicality aside, what saddened you most was that Hawks didn’t have much of a reason to see you without the shop. 

As much as you had feared it at the beginning of your friendship, you had gotten comfortable with Hawks’s presence in the shop and in your life. 

Too comfortable, and now it was biting you in the ass.

Thorns stabbed in your chest.

 Keigo noticed your slow-falling expression and frowned, “What’s on your mind?”

 “It’s nothing, just, uh...” You shook your head, blinking up at him,

Your voice cut off as your gaze refused to settle on him, Keigo clearly seeing your discomfort. 

“Without the teashop, you know...” Then, with that honesty that scared him, you finally met his eyes, gripping the sheets of your hospital bed, “I’m gonna miss seeing you.”

The principle made Keigo’s mind swirl.

You missing him.

His thoughts slipped back to ‘the miel incident’, and your mutual feelings that you very obviously didn’t fucking know about. If you did, he was sure you’d know that he would be missing you a lot without your normal interactions. 

This certainly wasn’t the setting to tell you, you were still stuck with an IV and probably somewhat traumatized by the event, even if you seemed in good spirits.

But, he could help assuage your fears. Subtly. Let himself use his honed arts to comfort rather than connive. 

“Dove, it’s alright,” He gave the softest smile he could, shreds of real vulnerability in it coaxed out by you without you even being aware of it. “Just because the teashop isn’t around right now doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

The stunned expression on your face would’ve been cute if it didn’t make Keigo’s heart stutter painfully in his chest.

 “You... You do?” Your voice was so soft, you surprised yourself.

Hawks was a busy, busy man. Why the fuck would he bother with you? There was no cute coffee shop aesthetic in your foreseeable future. Maybe some decent drinks, but you wouldn’t be very mobile. You had some supplies and gear to make teas and some drinks at your apartment, but nothing as expansive as was destroyed at the shop. If it was flirty banter keeping him near, there were certainly other people he could go to for some natural chemistry, right?

He doesn’t need you.

Why the fuck would he bother with you, outside of what you could offer him?

“Dove,” Hawks’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

“Uh,” You stuttered, mind catching up to the very obvious conclusion that, yes, Hawks does like having you around. “I guess, yeah.”

He frowned, leaning back in his chair as one of his smaller feathers whisked to your forehead, patting it a few times, “(Y/N), I like spending time with you. I care about you.”

Oh.

That was a little more vulnerability and truth than either of you expected.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, seeing a hint of unbearable fear before it was wiped away.

 You didn’t know it, but it was just you that pushed that fear off Keigo’s face.

He forced his shaking hands to be still, mouth drying after saying words that he wasn’t sure he was ready to say yet. God, they were true, but were they okay? For him, or you?

And then you gave him the gooiest, biggest smile you’d ever graced him with, “I care about you too, Hawks. Thank you.”

 It made both of your guts turn to mush.

In a stunned moment of silence, both of your breaths stuck in each of your throats. Neither of you could tear your gazes away from each other.

You both tightened your grip on your respective fabrics, your heart rate monitor beeping faster as you swallowed. 

Hawks opened his mouth, inhaling, but he was quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. A head poked in, the same nurse as before.

“Hey, sweetheart, we need to take your vitals quick,” She came in, waving to Hawks gleefully.

Hawks’s softened eyes were gone, you realized. Torn away from the moment and now speaking comfortably with the nurse as she checked what she needed to.

Your hands shook.

 Keigo noticed it, too, his own trembling as well. 

 The idle chat between Hawks and the nurse fell on your ears, though you didn’t process any of it. You were far too busy mentally coming to terms with the fact that Hawks cared about you. And, based on his tone and that familiar (but usually hidden) adoration in his eyes, it was a bit deeper than you expected and knew how to swallow.

You took a slow breath as the nurse left, Hawks waving with a wide smile plastered on his face.

When the door shut once more, there was a lull of silence that settled over the room. More early morning sunlight was beginning to slant into the room, throwing gold over the otherwise drab and lifeless greys and whites of the room.

The intense mood had been thoroughly interrupted by the nurse, but perhaps it was a hidden blessing. 

Both of you were terrified, but so deeply yearning. You both were a bit too raw. 

Maybe it would be better to let the fear fade, just a bit more. 

 “Oh, shit, I nearly forgot,” Hawks reached down next to him, pulling out a bag you hadn’t realized he had brought him. He set it on the edge of the bed. “I got you something.”

“Hawks.” You groaned, shaking your head and running your hands down your face. “You need to stop being so nice.”

“Can’t do that, (Y/N). I’ll be as nice as I want,” You could see that his grin was shit-eating through the space between your fingers. “Besides, you haven’t even looked at it yet.”

You took the bag into your lap, noticing the ruffles of tissue paper that puffed from the top. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” You told him, albeit still pulling the paper from the top to reveal a small, wrapped, fluffy object.

Hawks hummed, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees, “You’re right. I didn’t have to. But, I wanted to.”

As carefully as you could, somewhat suspicious, you peeled back to the paper. 

Your eyes widened.

It was a plushie, round and soft with a filling that made it feel like a marshmallow in your arms. The design was familiar, a character from one of your favorite cartoons, but you’d never talked about it with Hawks.

“I figured you could use a little pick me up after all this,” Hawks tilted his head and winked. “Did I get the character right?”

Your mouth fell open, blinking, “How did you... know? That I liked this one?” 

“The little pins on your apron,” Hawks tapped his chest. “I figured you must be pretty fond of this one, since you had a couple of buttons for them, right?”

You wanted to give you a coherent, thankful statement to Hawks. Really, you did. Instead, you stared down at the doughy, round-eyed plushie. Maybe a few overwhelmed tears gathered in your eyes, which you promptly sucked down and shook your head.

“Thank you, really,” You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But, fuck, Hawks—”

 For a moment, Keigo thought you were upset with him. Based on the slight contorting of your face, and the wetness in your eyes, his heart seized up. His fingers twitched from where they cupped his chin, wanting to shoot out and comfort you somehow. 

However, Keigo stayed put as you turned back towards him, plushie carefully gathered in your arms and hugged snugly and perfectly to your chest.

“You gotta stop being so fucking nice,” You sighed, pressing your face into the soft fabric of the gift. Your words were muffled, but Keigo heard each one perfectly. “I’m gonna start getting ideas, you know.”

Sure, Keigo could’ve pushed some of your buttons and fluffed himself up for some fun, flirty banter that would be undoubtedly lovely, but it wasn’t the time. You’d had a very long and tiring few days, and Keigo could see and imagine that you were in all sorts of disrepair.

Keigo stood slowly, moving just next to your bed where you turned your head upwards to look at him. Carefully, he placed a worn hand on your shoulder, feeling the small bit of bare skin exposed by the thin gown.

“Don’t worry about that right now, dove, okay?” Keigo let his voice go soft, quiet, and gentle as he could make it. Without thinking, he squeezed your shoulder, rubbing his thumb just under your collarbone.

It was too much, maybe. But neither of you would complain.

Keigo could see and feel the way you relaxed, eyes going half-lidded and leaning into his touch, even putting the slightest amount of your weight into it. 

It was probably the most precious and sweet gesture he’d ever experienced. 

He made it his goal to make more like it. 

(Anything to see you so instantly mushy.)

 “I saw a coffee machine when I was coming in,” Hawks voice was a hum, hand on your shoulder not moving. You didn’t want it to. The heat pressing against your skin made you melt. “Want me to grab us some? I know I need it.”

You managed to giggle, craning your neck to fully look up at Hawks. You swore you could see the slightest quiver in his bottom lip.

“I’d love some.”

“You sure you can stomach shitty coffee?” The thumb rubbed over your collarbone, Keigo’s pretty eyes searching your face, portraying far more than your words. “That’s my territory, angel.”

“I guess I’ll stoop to your taste,” You gave him a smirk like sweet lightning and tentatively, carefully, reached your hand up to wrap around his own, squeezing. “I take my coffee black.”

 ||||||||||||||||||||||

taglist: @thepandapopo @sinclairsamess

[whiteshadowsstuff]

Clinically insane

Or so they say

Corrosion of the brain

Like tooth decay

Some call it crystal

Others call it ice

This is my story

I'll try to be concise

Bottom of the gene pool

You sport the title well

Inbred family

Little children with tails

White trash tweaker

The truth will be unveiled

Low rent hacker

Says he has a crew

Pack of Bushwackers

And cyber is their ruse

Spun out flapper

Look who just got screwed

Served up on a platter

Gave me all the clues

You call yourself an artist

Nothing from the farthest

An artist? Lol ur a fucking joke

Your a mediocre hack, a novice, beginner

Go smoke another pinner

A looser not a winner

The new girl on the block

What you say has no stock

Dwayne Johnson is the Rock

No likes on your Tik-Tok

That shouldn't be a shock

You I like to mock

You kind of look like Spock

It's the nose....I'm gonna sock

You've got some warrants out

What's this all about?

2 are for assault

Yeah right it's not your fault

That's why your on the lamb

I like green eggs and ham

No one can save you now

Not even Samsung Sam

You fucked my friend over

Supposedly your friend too

Who needs enemies

With a friend like you

Attempted suicide

Another rehab

A stint in ICU

The futures looking bad

You knew about her struggles

She lived with everyday

You knew of her addictions

Hard to keep at bay

You knew her health was failing

And spun her anyways

Pocket full of dope

Brains not thinking straight

Sexualy exploited

Predator and his prey

Laid out in black and white

There is no fucking grey

All hyped up on the G

Your life's an atrocity

Your actions are a monstrosity

A syndrome like hyperviscosity

Character defect of pomposity

Cannot be trusted......hypocrisy

Coming at you with velocity

Full force of my ferocity

Your the black stain in society

I stand for life

You represent death

You took her mental health

Smoking up that meth

I tried to treat her right

Lookin out for her best

At hospice every night

Till she took her last breath

In her afterlife

Lady Macbeth

The devils coming for you

And I'm your Godsend

Strike you out for 9 innings

Then hit a homer in the 10th

Send you straight to hell

For you have mortal sinned

Can you hear the music play

That's my violin

You had an app in my phone

I found out in the end

Did your camera roll

Pissed me off I won't pretend

Put on your little show

With no clue of what I know

Now the dust has settled

You should have never mettled

I'm the peoples choice

Like Larry Fitzgerald

Call me Messiah

Call you Pariah

You want to poke this bear

I'll fold you like a chair

I didn't sweat you then

I sure don't sweat you now

As my late friend would say

Mmmmmm......Brown Cow

Ricki Ticki Tavi

The mongoose and the snake

The mongoose smart and crafty

The snake will make mistakes

Time to set the trap

I casted out the bait

Hook line and sinker

The hacks came out to tinker

You say this makes no sense

Here comes my whole defense

Fortune 100 IT department

Thought you were safe

Sitting up in your apartment

Hell yes I gave your name

Checkmate end of game

Now as you can see

Add up the felonies

Hired guns to my left

The law to my right

Wrap the rope around your neck

The noose is getting tight

Adios thanks for playing

Your ship has gone sailing

Got you a front seat

Florence State Penitentiary

Threw your crew under the bus

The bus that you were driving

Your meth is crystalizing

Cyber crimes are on the rising

The evidence is piling

You know what I'm implying

Read it in my writing

This moment is defining

It is the siver lining

Life's all about timing

And your time has come

No rope on your soap

Hot dog in the bun

This is my poem

My riddle if you will

Addictions unforgiving

And her death was surreal

The predator is lurking

Skeeter in the night

Pocket full of christy

Human parasite

Now I always spit the truth

Maybe a couple lies

This story is nonfiction

Cross my heart hope to die

And the tweaker that I jingled

He's looking at hard time

He's thinking 2 or 3

I'm betting 8 or 9

[fbfh]

“forever” paxton hall-yoshida x reader

genre: fluffy romance + mutual pining (not too slowburn tho lol)

word count: 3.4k

au: none?? jock x theatre nerd ig

pairing: Paxton x broadway baby!reader 

requested: yes !! i hope u like it uwu

warnings: one hell one motherfucking and i think that’s it for swearing?? um brief self deprecating/talking bad abt urself from paxton (bby boy needs a self love boost), reader and paxton are home alone together for a little while but nothing bad happens, uh,,, i think that’s it

summary: when Eleanor can’t run lines with you, she sends over a very attractive, mutually pining substitute.

reccomended songs: “Seventeen” - Tuck everlasting OBC, “The Kiss” -The Princess Diaries score

a/n: i’m p sure i kept the reader p gender neutral but there’s implied slightly long hair, and you play the lead (a girl named winnie) in ur schools production of tuck everlasting but like it’s theatre so anyone can play anyone lol,, this took so got dam long bc i’m fucking s o f t for jock x artist and it just sorta happened lol aLsO,, not super thoroughly edited so there might be a typo or two?? im tired lol

requests r open <3

You had only ever seen two athletes present during rehearsals. Once when Madeline (who at the time was playing Penny in your production of Hairspray) was dating a guy from the soccer team. The other was when the star of the basketball team had come in to give your choreographer pointers for the basketball scenes during High School Musical. 

Until now.

You had run onstage part of the way through “Live Like This”, which wasn’t out of the ordinary since so much progress had been made on the costumes. You were still tying the ribbon on your pinafore as you jumped into the song, but when your eyes met a face in the usually empty auditorium, you faltered. You almost sang the wrong verse, but recovered quickly, continuing with the blocking. What felt like a moment later, the number was almost done and you were nearing the end of your counterpoint with Mae Tuck - played by Eleanor, of course. Who could be better for the part? You held out the last note, trying to stay in character despite all the distractions in the back of your mind. You had to talk to Eleanor when the director called for 10; she’d started telling you how Devi was being weird recently. Also, what the Hadestown was Paxton Hall-Yoshida doing chilling in the auditorium? You shoved all that away, focusing on staying in character until the director called for a break. 

‘I want to go to the fair. I want to go so badly! I just need a change, need to get out of this house for a little while. I never do anything, so this can’t be asking for too much, right?’ 

You projected all that into your everything - face, voice, mannerisms, energy.

“Hold!” 

Everyone froze.

The director wrote a few things on his paper, sighed, and underlined something several times. 

“Okay, good job! I need to revise some of the blocking, then we’ll do notes, so take ten.” Your sudden nerves had definitely made you pitchy, you knew that would be one of your notes for sure. 

A chorus of “Thank you ten”s erupted, and you immediately ran to Eleanor, telling the others good job as you passed. 

You leaned in and started speaking to her, quietly.

“Okay you need to finish telling me about Devi, and that other news you’re being so cryptic about! Also, what’s up with Fierro over there?” you nodded towards Paxton hoping he wouldn’t see, and you noticed Fab is sitting near him. You realized they’re probably waiting for Eleanor and/or Devi. That must be it, he’s been hanging out with them lately, right? Eleanor gasped.

“You’re right! Paxton is such a Fierro!”

You cringed inwardly a little bit as her voice carried through the auditorium, mixing with the others. Your eyes darted over to him for a fraction of a second. Oh god. He was looking at you. Or in your general direction at least. Lena, the costumer, walked around the set gingerly, following you around and getting you out of your dress incredibly carefully as you and Eleanor walked off stage. 

“No! Well, yes- but no. What’s he doing here? Jocks never come here during rehearsals. I saw Fab too, are you guys and Devi getting dinner or something?” You said, entering the auditorium, and stepping out of the dress. You grabbed sweatpants and a silky, floral kimono jacket from your bag to throw over your leotard and tights. She waved back at Fab before sitting down in the front. You both grabbed your fans and dramatically flicked them open in sync. Your wrists fluttered, cooling both of you off.  A knowing, and slightly mischievous, look came on her face. 

“Devi and Fab and I are. Paxton must be here for something… else.” she shrugged, nodding towards Paxton. You looked over again. He was staring at you. You did a double take and tried to hold back your smile. 

“Wh- I do not know to what you are referring.” 

“To what I am referring is the blush on his cheeks.”

You barely held back a nervous, bubbling laugh.

“He is not blushing! Why would he be blushing!”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “Just like how I don’t know that he’s been loitering in the halls outside the music room during your last three solo music rehearsals.”

You struggled for an answer. Before you could form one, you were interrupted.

“Okay, okay what is the best Lin Manuel Miranda musical? Because Kathryn thinks it’s Hamilton-” 

“Duh!”

“-But I think it’s In the Heights! It’s an underrated jewel!” Jonah interjected, still wearing his Jesse Tuck hat. 

You considered for a moment.

“I mean, they’re too different to compare. In the Heights has the same energy as Rent - showcasing what goes on in ordinary people’s lives, and how love ties us all together,” he nodded in agreement, “But Hamilton is on a way larger scale, almost Les Mis meets Fun Home vibes. But in terms of personal preference…” Eleanor scoffed at your answer, and Jonah went back to debate further with Kathryn.

“Anyway,” you turned back to Eleanor to ask her what the hell she meant by Paxton Hall-Yoshida was blushing. But before you could-

“Eleanor, we need you to try on your blue dress again,” Lena was already pulling her away, “I had the empire waist in the right place but half the pins fell out, and it’s just...” And she was whisked away before you could finish the thought. You just had time to help Holly get out her wig pins and drink some lemon water before notes. Eleanor still wasn’t back, so you made sure to write down hers for her. It was pretty standard; be quiet backstage, go over your lines, don’t touch props that aren’t yours, don’t eat in costume, and a couple blocking changes you made note of. After your end of rehearsal warm downs and huddle, everyone left relatively quickly. You ducked into the bathroom to freshen up a little. Sometimes it was hard coming down from such intense energy after rehearsal. You mentally ran through your to do list. You needed to get some more tea, write that essay when you got home, go over your notes- You gasped, cutting off your own train of thought. You ran out of the bathroom to look for Eleanor, still clutching her notes in hand. 

~

Your voice still echoed in Paxton’s ears. He wished he had a whole album of you singing. Your voice made him want to ruin his spotify algorithm by listening to nothing else. You had looked at him a couple times, and his heart had almost stopped. He didn’t know eye contact could be so intense. It’s probably just cause you’re like, the only person in the audience. Where else is she supposed to look? He deflated a little. He heard his name and looked over to you and Eleanor talking together. Hopefully it was about him. Hopefully it was good. He checked his phone, trying to look busy. When he glanced up to see if you were looking, you were gone. He started to look around for you when he saw Eleanor waving at Fab, and sure enough, you were next to her. What he didn’t expect was you dropping your dress to the ground. Time slowed down (and his heart sped up) as you stretched a little, and pulled out sweatpants from your bag.

Wow.

 You had on what looked like a bathing suit on underneath, and a few other people had done the same, but he knew that image would be in his memory, probably forever. His heart was beating in his ears and he knew he must be blushing.

“You okay, Paxton?” Fab asked, a seat or two away. Oh god, he didn’t want people asking why he blushed every time he looked at you! He muttered something about needing to make a call and headed for the doors. Don’t look back at her, don’t look back at her… His eyes involuntarily darted in your direction right before he left. You had on a flowy translucent jacket, your hair thrown back supermodel style as you fanned yourself to cool down. He needed to cool down too. Maybe a cold shower, a really cold shower.

~

You managed to find Eleanor just before she left. Two girls were with her, you had seen Fab once, and you’d heard a lot about Devi, but had never been introduced. 

You gave Eleanor her notes, and she hugged you.

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Of course, I-”

“Uh, who’s this?” you looked over, and the shorter girl - Devi, based on what you’d heard about her -  was giving you a weird look. You introduced yourself. 

“Nice to meet you. How do you know Eleanor?” said the taller girl - definitely Fab.

“Oh,” you smiled, “she’s my almost mother in law. And my arch rival,” you counted on your fingers, “my sister, my niece, my lover, my husband, and…” you trailed off, trying to think of the other dynamics your characters had had in past shows.

“Your co-conspirator.” 

“Right,” you laughed. Devi and Fab looked at you two.

“We’re in the musical together.” you clarified. You were about to part ways when you called to Eleanor, “Hey, we’re still on for running lines tomorrow night?” 

“Uh… Sounds good!” she walked away quickly, speaking to Devi and Fab in hushed tones. Something was definitely up. That was typical Eleanor Scheming behavior. 

~

That night, you almost couldn’t sleep. This wasn’t the normal post rehearsal can’t sleep. In fact, Tuck Everlasting was the last thing on your mind as you readjusted your pillows and snuggled into your duvet. You stared at the neon blue stars projected and swirling on your ceiling. You sighed. Again. Your brain was a 24/7 livestream of Paxton Hall-Yoshida to relax/study to. You saw him again, his face in the dimly lit auditorium, Adonis in a sea of faded seats. If you hadn’t been sure before, you knew now that red was definitely his color. You rolled onto your side. Your heart picked up speed as a thought crossed your mind. You could almost see Paxton now, kneeling next to you, his fingertips brushing your cheek. The piano underscore to “Seventeen” ran through your mind. You could imagine him saying “Wait with me, we could share the world…” so vividly it almost hurt. He leaned in, and… 

You let out a loud sigh and rolled over again. Your heart was fully saturated. That’s more than enough pining for tonight. 

~

“Paxton!” 

He was a little surprised when Eleanor just walked up to him at lunch the next day. Most people were too intimidated to approach him out of the blue. 

“I have a plan.”

“Uh, I don’t know what you-”

“Cut the crap, I know you like her.” 

His face blanched. Well, yeah of course he did. Who wouldn’t? He was going to ask Eleanor if there was something he could do to win you over, just not here, not now. Not where everyone could watch and jeer and rib him for it. Just like they were doing now. 

“Woah, dude, who is it?” Trent asked. He fumbled for words. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He hadn’t kept his crush a secret because he was embarrased of you, he’d kept it a secret because his dumbass friends wouldn’t get you. Hell, he barely got you. You were so deep, and emotive, and artistic... 

“Bro, if you like her as much as it seems like you do,” Trent continued, “you gotta win her over.” He was a little shocked at the agreement murmuring through his group of friends. He didn’t know how to respond. Trent turned to Eleanor.

“What’s the plan, drama mama?”

“First of all,” she said, an almost humorously dangerous look on her face, “never call me that again. Second,” she shoved some papers into Paxton’s hands, “meet me in the music room immediately after school.” She started back for her table. Trent looked back over to Paxton. 

“You gotta do it, dude. We’ll cover for you at swim.” 

The rest of his friends agreed. He was pleasantly surprised at how supportive they were being. 

“Yeah, I guess... we’ve got a plan.”

~

The next day went by pretty smoothly. No rehearsal was scheduled since they were finishing construction for some of the sets, but everyone was instructed to do a couple read throughs of the script, focusing on scenes they’re still forgetting, to make sure everyone’s off book. You stopped by 7 Eleven to get a blue slurpee (for homework) and a couple coconut waters (for run throughs). You texted Eleanor on your way to the slurpee machine. 

okay so do you like the mango coconut water or the pineapple one?? It’s the mango one right?? i always forget lmao

sent at 4:16 pm

btw I don’t have that much homework so you can probs come by around 5:30 if you’re ready by then

sent at 4:16 pm

Bae Tuck

OMFG!! I totally forgot about running lines tonight, I can’t make it! :( but I’ll send someone over to help you out. :)

sent at 4:17 pm

You squinted at your screen. That was weird. Eleanor never used colon parentheses smilies. Like, ever. She always used emojis, and usually way more than two per text. 

yeah np, are u good? ♡

sent at 4:17 pm

Bae Tuck

Yes :)

sent at 4:18 pm

Bae Tuck

Also get the passionfruit one 🥥🍠 👀

sent at 4:18

that’s,,, el that’s a sweet potato,,

sent at 4:19 pm

Bae Tuck

Close enough 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

sent at 4:19pm

...Okay? That was definitely weird. You shook it off and headed for the counter to pay. You stopped half way there, and turned back to swap the mango for passionfruit. 

Not long after you had finished your homework and tidied up your room a little, the doorbell rang. You exited the kitchen, drinks in hand, and opened the door. Your heart caught in your throat. Paxton Hall-Yoshida was standing outside. And you were pretty sure he looked nervous. You both just stood there for a second. No one breathed, no one spoke. 

“Uh, hi, do you want to…” you backed up, motioning for him to come inside. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, entering the doorway. Paxton motherfucking Hall-Yoshida was in your living room. You held out a hand to him.

“Coconut water?” he took the box, looked at the label, and smiled. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said again, this time a faint, yet unmistakable note of joy in his voice. He took a sip. He smiled.

“Passionfruit’s my favorite.” You silently thanked Eleanor, who you knew must have planned all this. Most of the evening was a blur, and you thanked god your family wasn’t home right now. You went upstairs, texted Eleanor asking what the actual fuck, made some surprisingly comfortable small talk, then filled him in on how to run lines. 

“Do you think playing the soundtrack would help you… get into character?” he asked. 

“I would probably just end up singing the whole thing,” You laughed and tried to ignore the butterflies in your chest. The main scene you struggled with was before “Seventeen”. It was harder to get into Winnie’s head because you had no romantic feelings for Jonah, and you always just made each other laugh. You had started with a few easier scenes of Winnie and Jesse, like the fair, and the dialogue before “Top of the World”. 

“That was really good,” he said, and you felt the sincerity of his words. 

“Thanks…” you smiled and took a sip of coconut water, hoping you weren’t blushing too hard. 

“So what next?” he asked. 

“Probably the scene before ‘Seventeen’,” you said, giving him the page and scene number, “it’s one of the hardest ones for me. I guess I just can’t connect to Jonah the way Winnie does.” 

“Huh,” he said, skimming the page. When you looked up at him, he had something between a smile and a smirk playing at his lips. You made yourself look away before you got too distracted. You refused to think about the fact that you were sitting across from Paxton Hall-Yoshida on your bed, in your room, like you were… close with each other. His eyes skimmed the script, finding the dialogue. He glanced up at you and nodded, indicating he found his place. You began.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t get away,” you said, jumping into character.

“I may be 102, but I can still outrun anyone,” a smile played at his lips. You smiled, then let your face fall.

“I’m so sorry, I-I tried to warn you-”

“No, no,” he interjected almost seamlessly, “It’s okay, it’s… refreshing having someone look after me who isn’t my mom.” His eyes flickered between your face and the page. You smiled with him for a second, then let distress cloud your face.

“Jesse… that man came by my house today. He heard the music box, he knows about you-”

“I know he knows…” 

You continued on with the scene and he trailed off when he came to the sheet music for the song Seventeen. You took in a breath to start the dialogue in the middle of the song, but before you could…

“Six years from now you will turn seventeen,

Turn seventeen,

The same age as me,

Six years from now,

Go to the spring,

Go to the spring and drink…”

He was singing to you. He was looking at you and singing to you. His eyes only flickered down to the page to confirm the lyrics. He was nervous, you could tell. But through his hesitance, the emotion in his voice was sincere. Your heart was beating faster. You didn’t even notice your pulse was ringing in your ears, you were too focused on Paxton. 

“I'll wait for you till you turn seventeen,

Turn seventeen,

The same age as me,

Six years from now,

Go to the spring,

Go to the spring and drink…” Your hand rose to cover your mouth. He hesitated, and you remembered your dialogue.

“Uh, wh-what if I… forget where the spring is?” He reached out and took your free hand in his. Your pulse was off the charts. “I’ll go get you some water. Just… remember to keep it somewhere safe. Somewhere no one will find it.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about the water. You knew he had never really been in a serious relationship before, and it clicked suddenly - if he learned an entire song to duet with you, just how much he must like you. You exhaled a breathy laugh, unsure how to process the sudden euphoria you felt. 

“You make the world sound so… exciting. I just want to drink the water right now!”

“Uh, no. You have to wait.” you both smiled, anticipating the upcoming joke.

“Why?” you ask, “What’s the difference?” You held your breath as he tried not to laugh through the delivery of the punchline. 

“Believe me,” he rubbed his thumb over your hand, “there’s a difference.” You both chuckled, and he continued singing. You were so focused on him, so… touched that he would do all this for you. 

“Winnie, wait with me,

And we could be married,

Winnie, wait with me,

And we'll share the world,

Winnie, you can stop time,

And live like this,

Forever…”

“I could live like this forever,” you echoed.

“Live like this...” you sang in tandem.

“What do you say, Winnie? Do you want to…” he broke character suddenly, and asked, his eyes boring into yours, “Do you want to go out some time?” 

He could see the adorable smile blooming on your face, even from behind your hand. You nodded.

“Yes, I-I would love that,” and you began to sing the last line in the song, “Forever-” 

But before you finished holding out the note, his lips were on yours. His mouth moved slowly, intentionally, against yours. You followed his lead, flustered. He leaned further forward, his palm caressing your cheek. It was everything you imagined it would be, and you had quite the imagination. Your head was angled up and your hands rested themselves on his back, one tracing little shapes. Your shoulders were pressed against each other and neither of you could think. He was so warm. He tasted like coconut and passion fruit, and a distant part of your mind silently thanked Eleanor again. 

You really could live like this forever.

[forbiddenship]

i just saw a bunch of rina's take yet another ss of a portwell post from tumblr to talk shit over on twitter. it annoys me so much that this keeps happening and we can't do anything about it bc there aren't enough of us over there. i'm asking you this bc i know you're on twitter and you're like the portwell captain on that app (bless your soul you're doing god's work). how do you handle being on there when this happens all the time?

first of all, that is such a sweet compliment, and it made my day so thank you so much. i’m definitely not a captain or anything lol, it’s funny how it all started. i became a hardcore portwell shipper when 2x05 came out, and at that point there wasn’t much content - very few edits and fics here and there - and even less so on twitter. in fact, it was all just portwell hate over there. and that made me really sad because twitter is one of my favorite apps - i think if used correctly it can be such a positive experience. i made so many friends through twitter last year in some of my other fandoms and i guess i was just used to showing my appreciation for characters/ships on stan twitter. but the fandoms i was part of before were much smaller (and therefore had fewer conflicts overall).

so when i joined the hsmtmts fandom and realized portwell positivity was lacking over there i just began to post about my ship and see if anybody was actually interested. and surprisingly, a lot of people were lol. many of them were just hiding bc of the fear of being mass quoted by rina’s. which, at this point, is something i’ve gotten over bc i know that it’s just one of those things they do to try and prove they’re the top dogs. twitter is the only place where they can dominate by numbers so they’re just taking advantage of that - regardless of who they have to step on to achieve it. i don’t really “handle” it any way per se other than just posting the stuff i like and blocking whatever i don’t. it’s really that simple. and trust me, i totally understand the pride and the feeling of “why should i have to block them? i deserve to be here just as much as them” - i totally get it. and yes, we shouldn’t have to do that. it would be much more ideal if all the shippers could coexist peacefully and stay in their lanes. but that’s not the reality, and at the end of the day, we gotta do what’s best for ourselves and our mental health. even though i knew that their arguments fell apart like sand, it was still exhausting to try and fight them all when there were so few of us (although i do know a lot more portwells now but at the beginning yk). so the best option for me was just to block what i didn’t need to see so i could keep enjoying the app and use it to show my love for my fav ship. and by doing that i found that a lot of other people were in the same boat as me and i got to connect with more portwell shippers, some of whom are now my closest moots. so it all worked out in the end :)

also, quick afterthought - the fact that rina’s are constantly lurking in our tag to find something they can screenshot and start a whole discourse on over on twitter is very telling. they’re obviously scared as hell and for good reason. but it’s such a cowardly thing to me: like ur gonna take content from a different platform and transport it over to twitter just so you can drench it in your toxicity without having any opposing voices? embarrassing.

btw, i’m so sorry if you’ve sent me an ask before and i haven’t answered it! im so bad at this omg. i keep starting drafts and forgetting that i started them so my inbox is always clear but i have a bazillion drafts. but tysm for sending them in and i’ll finish them all soon!

[quokkacore]

mojave, mo’problems (m)

summary: throughout your life, you’d been told that a life of crime was the loneliest of all. now, however, your boyfriends, johnny and jaehyun, a pair of bank robbers, and you, their getaway driver, beg to differ.

pairing: seo johnny x jeong jaehyun x fem reader

genre: SMUT, fluff, minor angst, found family, criminals!au

warnings: poly relationship, language, guns, mentions of cops (acab!!!), armed robbery, mentioned physical, mental and emotional abuse, reader, johnny and jaehyun are from broken homes, mentioned alcohol abuse, overuse of pet names :’), unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy!!), JAEHYUN HAS NIPPLE PIERCINGS, minor daddy kink? its used like,, once, dirty talk, threesome, boyxboy, soft dom johnny switch jaehyun, sub reader, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, orgasm denial, spitroasting, praise kink, size kink, mentions of double penetration, blowjobs, cunnilingus, general filth

song recs: stevie nicks & don henley - leather & lace ♡ nct 127 - fly away with me ♡ lana del rey - national anthem ♡ triple h - retro future

word count: 9.4k

a/n: this was originally uploaded to my old writing blog on july 22nd, 2020. there were a few things in the original a/n that i wanted to keep. one, due to how multicultural los angeles is, i imagine the reader being latina or bipoc, but i make no mention of skin color!! two, i blame the w korea johnjae photoshoot for this. the room they were shooting in and the hawaiian shirts totally gave me desert motel vibes. and finally, pls stay safe, wash ur hands, and pls keep urself informed on current issues with resources like this carrd. <3

Burbank, Los Angeles, California, 12:22 PM

“You both remember the plan, right?"

"Yeah, John.”

“Oh my god, Johnny, we went over the plan seven times last night and twice on the way here. We know what to do.”

Johnny huffed, staring pointedly at you before rolling his eyes.

“…Fine. We’ll take less than fifteen minutes, okay? You know what to do, smart girl."

You looked at Johnny, who was sitting shotgun next to you, as his hand came up to touch the back of your head, gaze warm.

"Be careful,” You said, eyes moving to the rearview mirror, where you met Jaehyun’s eyes, “Both of you.”

Jaehyun nodded, his hand coming up to cover Johnny’s. “We will be. You be careful too, baby.”

You mirrored his action, nodding, and watched as they got out of the car to walk one block down to the bank. You watched them until they disappeared from sight, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel to calm your nerves. You were grateful Johnny had chosen this quiet, relatively empty street to wait on, avoiding calling attention to yourself.

Even after two years of doing this, it still made you nervous to wait for their signal to drive up to the front with your face mask on. One of the two burner phones you’d acquired a week prior was burning a hole in your pocket, the other tucked safely into Jaehyun’s.

You let out a deep breath, letting your eyes close for a moment, briefly thinking back to the first time you’d met them. You were nineteen, Jaehyun was twenty-one, and Johnny twenty-three.

Downtown, Los Angeles, California 3:48 AM

Two years ago, you had been working a shitty job at an old 50s style diner in the more dangerous side of LA to scrounge up enough money to run away from a less-than-ideal home life. The only noise of the diner, coming from the old jukebox in the corner crooning out some old Stevie Nicks song, was broken up by two tall, handsome men entering and sitting at a booth from across each other. You were immediately wary of them. They were obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, but it was a bit difficult with their statures and hunched backs, leaning close to each other and whispering in rushed tones.

Still, after gathering your pen and notepad, and grabbing a pair of menus, you approached the table, doing your best to put on a customer service smile despite your feet aching and head pounding from your exhaustion.

“Welcome to Ernie’s. Can I get you boys anything?” You asked quietly, setting down the menus on the table. The two men exchanged glances, before the taller one spoke.

“For now, two black coffees would be great—”

“Actually, can I get a burger with some fries?”

Your eyes darted to the shorter one, who was sporting a small, friendly smile as he fiddled with the menu.

You nodded, pulling out the notepad to write down the order. “Do you still want both coffees, or…?”

“Uhh, sure. Why not, we could use the caffeine.” He chuckled softly, and your smile got bigger at the pleasant noise. Even through the early morning hour daze, you could pick up on his charm from miles away.

“Sure thing, I can bring you guys the coffee right now, but your burger and fries might take a little bit. Anything else I can get you?”

The taller man on your left gazed up at you with wide brown eyes rimmed with dark circles underneath, totally devoid of any emotion. “We’re good, thanks.”

As you approached the kitchen window to hand the cook the order, you were able to pick up on a few not so subtle murmurs.

“Why are you in such a good mood, Jaehyun? It’s three in the morning, Yuta bailed on us and the shipment is coming in four days and we don’t even have half of a plan.”

Pouring the coffee as quietly as you could, you strained your ears to listen. Maybe if you hadn’t been so exhausted, you wouldn’t have eavesdropped, but you’d been working since 10 PM. Your head hurt, your feet ached, and you were in the mood for some entertainment, and now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Babe, calm down. I told you I have another guy who could work as our getaway driver—”

“I wouldn’t get into another car with Yangyang behind the wheel if I were covered in full fucking body armor. And I’m sure as hell not letting him be our getaway driver!” As you set the old white mugs on your serving tray, your breath hitched at his agitated whisper.

Getaway driver?

“We’re robbing a bank for Christ’s sake, Jae, not playing bumper cars.”

As you turned to face the two from behind the counter, they immediately tensed. You pretended not to have heard anything, flashing them an innocent smile as you cautiously set the mugs down on the table.

“You’re lucky I made a new pot a half hour ago! Not too hot, but not super cold either.”

The man on the right, who you now knew was named Jaehyun, had tried his best to put on his first smile, but it wasn’t working too well. It looked slightly too forced, too tight-lipped to be believable. “Thank you…” He said through somewhat gritted teeth, briefly glancing at your nametag, “…Y/N.”

“You’re very welcome,” You replied, tempted to know what would happen if you added on his name since you’d only heard it while eavesdropping, but quickly decided against it.

“If you need anything else, don’t be afraid to let me know.”

You quickly headed back to the counter, pretending to mind your business as you wiped down the counter. They murmured to each other about needing a fast driver, and the taller, stricter man, who you soon learned was named Johnny, was grumbling about needing someone able to drive as fast as this Yuta guy or even faster.

You remained silent, but all too pensive over the tempting ideas popping into your head upon hearing about their predicament.

All too soon, Jaehyun’s food was ready, and you brought it over, an innocent smile plastered once more over your face as you set it down, but said nothing when you straightened yourself. Unmoving, you met Jaehyun’s eyes. His dark eyes looked slightly alarmed, gaze darting between yours and Johnny’s.

“You know,” You hummed, after taking a deep breath, “For two people planning a crime, you’re both incredibly stupid. You do realize I heard basically everything, right?”

The two men stiffened again, momentarily panicking as they locked eyes, but that quickly melted into confusion when you giggled at their reactions.

“That being said, you’re also both incredibly lucky that Doug, the cook, is a ‘Nam veteran who can’t hear out of his left ear, and that I am a very fast driver who is in desperate need of some good cash.”

Johnny’s eyes were unreadable. “You. A waitress. A fast driver.” His teeth were gritted, and his tone agitated.

“I hate to toot my own horn,” You sighed sarcastically, unsure where your sudden confidence was coming from, “But I know what I’m talking about. I grew up around cars. Both of my parents are mechanics. I practically grew up in their garage. I have some older cousins who drag race on the weekends and taught me how to. I drove my first car when I was like, twelve.”

“What if we say no?” Jaehyun asked, eyes now void of any friendliness, “What then?”

You held up your phone, which had been hiding in your apron pocket, 911 already dialed. You saw Johnny swallow when he saw the numbers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. You felt a surge of power rush to your head, having caught the scarier of the two men now looking like a deer in headlights.

“All I need to do is call. I’m sure the cops would be thrilled to take a look at all the weapons you say you have in your trunk. I want in. You either do this with me or not at all, assholes.”

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. They seemed to be having an entire conversation with just their eyes. You tried your best to hide the shaking in your knees and the tremble in your fingers, to ignore the fact that this could easily backfire. If they were considering robbing a bank, they were automatically dangerous. One of them could easily have a gun with them here, and they could very easily pull it out and use it to hurt you or Doug.

Finally, Johnny sighed. He didn’t look very happy, but there was a glint in Jaehyun’s eyes that gave you catharsis.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Johnny said in a cold voice, “Let’s talk business.”

Everything had spiraled from there. You took them for a drive around the city to show them just how fast you could be, they opened themselves up to you being their third musketeer. The first time you robbed a bank, they were there to comfort you after you panicked at the idea of living on the run.

Eventually, you found out about their relationship as lovers, and they found out why you were so willing to drop everything and run away with two strangers, among other things. The story of how you drove your first car at twelve because your alcoholic parents were too wasted to drive to the grocery store, how you were cautious to hide the scars of cigarette burns along your inner forearm. After that, they opened up to you as well.

Why Jaehyun ran away from a promising life studying pre-med at an Ivy League University where expectations were eternally piled onto his shoulders, like Atlas holding up the sky. Why Johnny left suburban Chicago behind for LA at sixteen, tired of the monotony of a normal life where everything in his life had to look perfect, everywhere except behind the curtains of his house because his parents couldn’t stand him being attracted to both women and men, since it wasn’t befitting of the perfect family they so desired to be.

Somewhere along the lines, your strange business relationship of robbing banks and splitting the money equally three ways blossomed into something just as strange, but even better, something you’d never expected. You found yourself falling in love with the both of them, growing into the loving family you’d always wanted but of which you’d always been deprived. They both became fiercely protective of you, and after months of them calling you love, baby, sweetheart, princess, they finally asked you to become a permanent part of their relationship, and you accepted.

You expected so many things to happen in your life, but never to fall in love like this. And it was better than anything you could have asked for. They kept you safe and reminded you that you were worthy of love, something you hadn’t felt growing up.

The sudden vibrating of the burner in your pocket snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly pulled on the black ski mask over your face before you started the car, not hesitating to speed towards the bank. You could hear police cars in the distance, and you took a deep breath as you rolled up to the front door, where the boys were currently exiting, bags full and guns out.

Your chest swelled with a strange sense of pride as they bolted into the car, shouting at you to drive.

Outrunning the police was a challenge, as always, but you were always faster, despite the fact that the boys had to keep telling you to wiggle your fingers since they were so stiff on the wheel and the last thing you needed was for your hands to cramp up now. Sure, you damaged the car a bit, but you could care less. This wasn’t actually your car. This was the car you’d hotwired almost a week ago, the real getaway car was hiding in a rather empty parking building, which you managed to enter and exit without much difficulty, now riding in a blue station wagon rather than the red Pontiac you’d driven to the bank. You all pulled off your masks, Jaehyun laying down to hide himself from the view of the window behind you.

Soon enough, you were out of Los Angeles, driving east towards the state line, and Jaehyun settled into the back seat. You drove for hours, the mood in the car finally having settled into an excited one a few minutes after leaving LA.

“How much did you guys manage to pull out of them?” You asked with a grin, and Johnny and Jaehyun shared a look, something that they always did.

“Baby girl, we managed to get 900,000 dollars from ‘em, we got ‘em good.” God, if you weren’t driving, you would have kissed Johnny then and there. Instead, you shrieked, “Nine hundred thousand!? That’s the biggest amount we’ve pulled yet!”

Jaehyun leaned forward, resting his chin on the front seat as Johnny looked back at him, pressing a soft kiss to the younger’s lips. “We’re celebrating big time, tonight,” Johnny declared once he pulled away from Jaehyun’s lips, much to Jaehyun’s dismay.

“How much longer till we get there?” Jaehyun asked, deep voice rumbling with satisfaction, mostly undeterred from Johnny’s teasing.

You glanced at the clock built into the dashboard, green lights blinking 4:18 PM. “I could get us there in two hours, but I don’t wanna draw attention by speeding. I’d much rather get to the motel at around eight.”

“Take your time, baby girl,” Jaehyun told you, leaning over even further to press a warm kiss to your temple, and your fingers stiffened on the wheel once more, “Whatever you feel works best.”

“Not too long, though,” Johnny added, “I don’t wanna piss myself before we get there.”

Both you and Jaehyun processed what he said, and immediately burst out laughing afterwards.

Yeah, these were the idiots you fell in love with.

The desert seemed endless, nothing in sight for miles but arid dirt and plants along the road. Somewhere along the road, as the sun began to set in the distance, Jaehyun pulled out his real phone from one of his suitcases in the back of the car, playing soft rock for the three of you to listen to as day turned to night, and the lampposts on the side of the road turned on.

There were far and few towns in between the vast expanse of desert, and because of that the stars shone bright in the limitless sky. When you saw the first flash of the moon up above, a song Jaehyun had put on had just ended, and a familiar Stevie Nicks song started playing afterwards. You smiled to yourself, humming along to the soft, tinkling melody.

Lovers forever, face to face                         

My city, your mountains

Stay with me, stay

I need you to love me

I need you today

Give to me, your leather

Take from me, my lace…

Eventually, after an eternity, you passed the sign you’d been so looking forward to seeing.

Welcome to Verona, Nevada

Population: 1,239

The motel wasn’t that hard to find, as it was just off of the highway. Johnny signed in in under 10 minutes, and you settled into the room on the second floor as quickly as you were allowed. The room smelled like mothballs and the carpet looked like it had once been a deep forest green, but was now a dark brown.

Yes, it was disgusting, but this was necessary to lay low for a while. Posing as three friends on a road trip crashing in a dingy motel for the night was generally the ploy. Next morning you would be out on the road again, driving further away from LA, then after a few days, you would finally return back to your shared apartment.

The three of you carried in the suitcases where the bags had been hidden in, and while you were stretching your legs and Jaehyun was showering, Johnny ordered three large pizzas using the phone on the nightstand.  

You lay down on the large, lumpy mattress a few minutes later, grabbing the remote and turning on the small, ancient TV across the room. The bed was lower than what the average bed was for some reason, and you suspected that the frame had broken at some point, and that the motel either didn’t know or didn’t care.

Regardless of how the mattress felt, your eyes started to droop despite flicking through the channels. You could feel your mind start to relax as you let go of your driver mindset, releasing pent up tension and alertness. Johnny turned to face the TV, sparing you a glance with his eyebrows raised.

“The news?”

“You know it, big boy."

He stalked over to where you were and plopped himself down to sit next to you, not hesitating to pull you into his lap. You smiled as he wrapped his hands around your waist, large hands spanning across your skin easily. The TV, now stuck on a channel showing some melodramatic Mexican telenovela, seemed to fade into the background.

"You did so well, today, baby,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “We all did really good.”

You smiled softly at his gentleness, hands meeting his on your waist, before turning your head enough to meet his gaze, nose brushing against his. His big, brown eyes were hooded, whether from tiredness or admiration of your features, you weren’t sure, but you gave it no further thought once he pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were slightly chapped, and you made a mental note to nag him later to drink more water. One of his hands came to brush some hair out of your face, and you became hyper-aware of each of his movements.

“Hmm, Johnny…"

"Shh, baby girl, let me kiss you a little bit more.”

When his lips came back to yours, his movements became more aggressive, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightened. Your breath hitched as you sucked on his tongue, whining softly against his mouth.

“Fuck,” you heard Jaehyun groan from the other side of the room, and Johnny pulled away before you could protest. Your eyes cracked open, hooded eyes finding Jaehyun bathed in warm light from the bathroom. His hair was still kind of damp and he hadn’t bothered buttoning his shirt up.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Johnny greeted, and you bit your lip at the teasing lilt in his tone, “Care to join us?"

"I was gonna wait until after dinner,” Jaehyun said, setting his towel on one of the chairs in the room, “But if you insist…”

“Jae,” You called, voice soft, “Come here, pretty boy.”

Jaehyun smiled as he approached you, standing right in front of you and Johnny, who had now started pressing kisses against your neck. “You want a kiss, princess?”

You nodded as best you could with Johnny sucking on your neck, pouting up at Jaehyun, who in return leaned down and grasped your face before pulling you into a kiss. He tasted like the watermelon bubblegum he always carried around in his pocket. One of your hands came up to comb through his wet, brown hair, nails scratching against his scalp, and he groaned quietly against your lips.

“You’re both so hot,” Johnny murmured against your ear, and you whined at his deep voice, both you and Jaehyun pulling away to look at him, the two of you evidently affected by what he was saying.

To say Johnny was the leader of your relationship was a bit of an understatement. Johnny was the mastermind behind most of your heists, and commanded a presence over both you and Jaehyun, wherever you were. Where Johnny went, you and Jaehyun followed with few objections, trailing behind him like ducklings. Johnny, in return, accepted his more dominant role easily, and did his best to take care of you both.

Sometimes, you wondered if your upbringings influenced the dynamics of your relationship. Maybe Johnny was  eager to dominate the both of you because he was raised under strict, controlling parents dictating his every move and treating him as their little puppet. Jaehyun submitting to Johnny, but not to you, out of the need to please as a kid who had been emotionally neglected but forced to live up to his family’s expectations. And you, submitting to both of them because you were forced to take care of yourself and your parents from a young age when it should have been the other way around.

The moment was broken by a knock at the door, the three of you immediately tensing up. “It’s just the pizza guy,” Jaehyun whispered in reassurance, taking a deep breath, but it didn’t do much to calm your nerves.

“Jae,” Johnny said, nodding toward him, looking alert, “Look through the peephole first. Wait for me.”

Jaehyun nodded, standing slowly. You were taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep yourself calm, but the possibilities of it being anyone but the pizza guy were causing your heart to beat into overdrive. LA police. Nevada police. State troopers. The FBI. Those weird Hungarian guys Jaehyun pissed off a few months ago. Suddenly it was all of them, waiting to burst into the room and take your family away from you.  

Johnny set you down on the bed, flashing you a soft look before pulling the back of his button up to reveal a gun hiding in the waistband of his pants, putting a hand on the grip, just in case. You stood, watching as Jaehyun slowly approached the door to look through the peephole, his eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed, heart pounding in your chest. He shut one eye, looking through the small hole in the door, before allowing his shoulders to slump a moment later, and giving you both a thumbs up.

Coast clear.

You sighed in relief, sitting back down on the bed as Jaehyun stepped away from the door. Johnny handed Jaehyun his gun, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his pants, and swung open the door, beginning a casual discussion with the delivery man as he pulled some money out of his wallet, before grabbing the pizzas and telling the guy to keep the change.

He closed the door, waiting a few seconds before sighing in relief as well and slumping against it.

“Jesus fuck, that’s one way to kill a boner,” He muttered, looking up as Jaehyun set down the gun on the nightstand.

“Y/N, you should have seen your face,” The younger man said while he stifled a laugh, coming closer to wrap his arms around you, and you huffed.

“Fuck off,” You told him, rejecting his embrace, and pouted, “I was genuinely about to piss myself.”

Jaehyun laughed again, and you retaliated by punching him in the arm, but not too hard, but he still grabbed your hand and pulled you towards Johnny, who had since set the pizzas down on the desk and locked the door again. He opened a box and grabbed a slice, and your spat with Jaehyun was forgotten, especially after having been on the road for over eight hours without stopping to eat.

Jaehyun grabbed another slice, eagerly taking a large bite before his eyes turned to the TV, which was still playing the Mexican telenovela. He raised an eyebrow after a few moments.

“Why are we watching Pasión de Gavilanes?” He asked, reading the name of the show as it cut to a commercial break.

“I was looking for the news,” You replied, giving Johnny a sideways glance, “But someone had other ideas.”

Johnny shrugged, already on his second slice of pizza. “You didn’t seem to mind,” He said after swallowing his food, eyes alight with mischief. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t deny him, and watched as he walked back to the bed, where the remote lay abandoned. He began switching through the channels until he finally stumbled upon the nine o’clock news report on a random channel, and the three of you quietly made your way towards the bed, all three of you waiting for the exact same thing.

And when it came, it was amazing. You were the main story, the breaking news of the armed robbery that had occurred in one of the safest parts of the city.

The three of you huddled together, occasionally getting up to pick up more slices of pizza, all relishing in having your egos stroked as the reporters all went over the details of the heist, how, when the police searched the getaway car (which had been mysteriously abandoned), no trace of any of the thieves were found, that any and all fingerprints didn’t match with any already registered in the LAPD’s database.

“The FBI has already involved itself in the investigation, believing this is the work of the same perpetrators as the Municipal Bank of Santa Monica six months ago, where two assailants…” The female reporter faded into the background, and you nodded to yourself, finishing your pizza happily. You peeked over at Jaehyun, who had a smug look on his face, satisfaction evident. You looked back to the TV as the scene changed, ignoring Johnny as he shifted next to you.

“We have no way  to identify the perpetrators,” A representative for the FBI explained, “All we know is that the suspects are two males, both taller than six feet, and a female of unknown stature. All are believed to be between early and mid 20s.”

You zoned out for the rest of the report, content at both the fullness in your stomach and the lack of evidence the police had against you, before feeling Johnny shift next to you again. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your head to look at him, only to raise your eyebrows as you realized what was going on.

Your eyes looked down to Johnny’s hand, which had drifted to between Jaehyun’s legs. Jaehyun was slumped against Johnny’s side, panting quietly as Johnny’s hand groped him roughly. Johnny’s gaze met yours, dark eyes twinkling.

“And to think he told us off for not being able to wait,” He murmured, and Jaehyun hummed at the deep roll of his voice. “Come on, princess. Help me make him feel good.”

You nodded, knowing better than to disobey Johnny when he got like this. You lowered yourself to your knees, crawling towards Jaehyun. Johnny moved again, this time sitting behind Jaehyun so he could begin to unbutton Jaehyun’s shirt. You placed yourself in between Jaehyun’s legs, hands coming up to touch the tent in his white shorts.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” You sighed, reaching to unzip his pants. Jaehyun looked down at you, face flushed, but eyes still burning with lust. “That desperate, baby?”

“For you two, always,” You answered quietly, pulling his pants down as he wiggled his hips. Johnny slid the button up down the younger man’s arms, leaving Jaehyun in black boxers. You glanced at Johnny, who was kissing the back of Jaehyun’s neck, big hands sliding up and down Jaehyun’s toned torso, purposely avoiding the metal studs embedded in Jaehyun’s nipples, something you knew Jaehyun loved for Johnny to play with. You bit your lip, not missing  the fact that Johnny was rocking his hips steadily against Jaehyun’s.

You eyed the bulge in Jaehyun’s boxers hungrily, feeling your core heat up at the thought of what was to come, before pulling down the garment and freeing Jaehyun’s dick. He hummed at the feeling, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around it.

Jaehyun’s head fell back, breath hitching as you pressed a kiss to his tip, and Johnny chose that moment to tug on the piercings. “Fuck, John,” He muttered, eyes squeezing shut.

“Don’t be mean, pretty boy,” Johnny cooed, fingers flicking the nubs incessantly, “Y/N’s helping you out too, don’t ignore her.”

“Y-Y/N—Shit, baby, nngh…”

You smiled at his whine, before taking his tip into your mouth, Jaehyun’s hips instinctually moving to thrust into your mouth. Your hand moved to stroke what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, listening to Johnny whisper filth into Jaehyun’s ear, not letting up his fingers, despite Jaehyun’s squirming.

His pretty face was flushed, letting out soft moans as Johnny tugged on the metal and pressed open mouthed kisses against his neck. You closed your eyes, focusing on hollowing your cheeks and making him feel good. He hissed when he hit the back of your throat, and your eyes opened as you forced yourself not to gag. Drool was pooling in your mouth, threatening to spill down your chin.

“She’s so pretty like this, John…” Jaehyun’s voice sounded breathless as his hands wound into your hair, keeping it out of your face. Your eyes screwed shut, whining quietly at his praise.

"She’s fucking gorgeous when she’s sucking cock,” Johnny growled against Jaehyun’s neck, voice guttural and dangerous, “And she loves it. Isn’t that right, princess?”

Jaehyun’s hand tightened against your scalp, trying to pull you off of his cock. “Give him an answer, baby girl.”

You pulled away from him, hand still gripping his shaft, still pumping slowly. You gasped for air, and the spit that had been gathering in your mouth spilled onto your chin, and they both groaned in unison at the sight. “I love it, John,” You murmured, meeting his dark stare. “Baby, you’re both so big, you both stretch me out so good.”

Jaehyun groaned again, and Johnny hummed, pressing a kiss to Jaehyun’s temple before he stood from the bed. He pulled you up on top of the bed with them, pulling you into his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, smiling to yourself as you felt something hard poking at your core. “Jae,” Johnny hummed, and Jaehyun shuffled over to meet you both.

“Spit in her mouth,” Johnny ordered quietly, and you whimpered in delight. Jaehyun looked at you with mischief in his eyes, before grabbing your chin. Your mouth fell open without need for an order, and he pressed his nose against yours. Then he opened his mouth, and you moaned when his spit fell onto your tongue.

“Don’t swallow yet, princess.” Johnny’s voice was deep, dark, and you knew he was thoroughly enjoying watching the both of you. You kept your mouth open, as one of his hands came to hold the back of your neck, drawing him closer to you. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, before opening his mouth and spitting in yours as well.

His eyes never left yours the entire time, nearly black with desire. His face was flushed, and the hand on your neck was hot.

“Swallow,” He growled against your mouth, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disobey. When you opened your mouth to show him how good you were being, he groaned and pressed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands busied themselves unbuttoning his shirt, while his hands groped your ass, forcing you to grind against him. You moaned his name, and his tongue found itself into your mouth, taking the lead of the wet, messy kiss.

Your mind was quickly hazing up at the feeling of Johnny’s clothed cock rubbing against you through your denim shorts, but you still picked up on the sounds of skin against skin and panting coming from your left. You pulled away from Johnny’s lips to look towards Jaehyun. Johnny took this chance to tug your shirt off, leaving you in a plain purple bra. Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes fell to Jaehyun’s hands, Johnny’s lips trailing down to the skin of your collarbones.

Jaehyun had one hand stroking himself at a steady pace, the other wrapped around the base of his cock, as if he were trying to stave off an incoming orgasm. He was watching the both of you with eyes darker than the Mojave desert in the middle of the night.

“Jae,” You whined, breathless against Johnny’s frame, “C’mere and kiss me, baby.”

“Yeah?” Jae answered, just as breathless as you, quirking an eyebrow up, “You want me, needy baby?”

You nodded in response, one hand reaching out to him. He leaned forward again, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips landed against yours.

Jaehyun’s kisses were so different from Johnny’s. Jaehyun was gentler, but he didn’t need to tease you by letting you dominate the kiss and then taking over. No, Jaehyun dominated the kiss from the beginning, plump lips sliding against yours, hands leaving his cock to caress your sides, brushing over Johnny’s hands very briefly. Then, they moved to your back, unclipping your bra and discarding it somewhere on the bed.

He pulled away from your lips, and Johnny, who had been sucking a purple mark into your shoulder, did the same. You noted that all of your chests were heaving. Johnny’s hands were still moving your hips against his, and the pleasure left your mind reeling.

“You close, princess?” Jaehyun asked, and you shook your head. “N-not yet, but… s-soon.”

“Look at how pretty our baby girl is, Jaehyun,” Johnny murmured,  dark eyes glittering in adoration as he watched your hips speed up of their own accord, rutting against him like a mindless animal. Jaehyun hummed in agreement, leaning his head against Johnny’s shoulder. Your head tipped back, unable to handle both of them looking at you, looking through you, as you fell apart on Johnny’s lap.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. So good for us, baby girl.”

By now, the fabric of your shorts and your panties against your core were starting to feel uncomfortable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were so lost in hazy pleasure, head swimming with nothing but thoughts of your two lovers. Your hands linked around Johnny’s neck, trying to find something to tether yourself to the mortal world, because you were certain that if you didn’t, you would float off into space, never to be seen again.

“Ah, f-fuck,” You said, “L-love you both so much…”

Jaehyun’s hand caressed your neck, before coming to caress your cheek. He moved your head as well, forcing you to meet his eyes. His eyes were warm, clouded with desire. Your gaze flickered between his face and Johnny’s, and you whined again. They were watching you wordlessly, in a way that made you feel safe, loved, needed, and even though it’d been about a year and a half since they started looking at you like that, it never failed to make your head spin in love and arousal.  

Johnny let loose a lazy smile at your words, hips bucking against your own. “We love you too, princess. You’re so sweet, do you wanna come soon?”

You nodded desperately, opening your mouth to answer but moaning instead when Johnny pressed you down even more against his cock. They both laughed at your noise, and you just had to laugh along with them.

The laughter died down a few moments later, and you felt yourself dangling over the edge. You just needed one little push, and a little push is what you got when Jaehyun turned his face to Johnny, and the older man met him for a kiss. Johnny growled against Jaehyun’s lips, biting down on his lower lip, and Jaehyun’s hand ran through Johnny’s hair, now sweaty and damp.

The sight of your lovers making out in front of you tipped you over the edge. Your eyes screwing shut, their names and profanities spilling from your mouth, moaning as the pleasure started in your hands and feet, before spreading up your arms and legs and taking over your body. Your hips didn’t stop moving, seemingly having a mind of your own, trying to draw out your orgasm as you clenched around nothing. All too soon, the sensation washed away, leaving you pliant and breathless in Johnny’s arms.

Your eyes opened to find that they hadn’t exactly broken away. They’d stopped kissing to pay attention to you, but they were still close enough for each other’s lips to remain against their own. When they finally separated, a small trail of spit connected their lower lips.

“That was so hot,” Johnny groaned, pressing your head against his chest, which was now bare, somehow. Jaehyun must have slipped off his shirt at some point without you noticing, you concluded in your frazzled state of mind. You closed your eyes as you allowed your breathing to return to normal, vaguely aware of your boys kissing each other a bit more.

“How are you doing, princess?” Jaehyun said once you had calmed down, no longer panting. His hand was caressing your side up and down, almost as if he was comforting you. You straightened your posture to look up at him and Johnny, giving them a soft, sleepy smile. Johnny’s big hands squeezed your hips as he spoke. “You wanna stop, or do you wanna keep going?”

You nodded, brushing away a damp strand of hair that was in your face. “I still haven’t gotten fucked by either of you,” You mumbled, “What makes you think I’m stopping before that happens?”

The pair exchanged a dark glance, wicked smiles gracing their faces before looking back at you.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun ordered, “Now.”

You moved off of Johnny, legs wobbling slightly, to lay down next to them. You popped the button on your shorts and pulled down the zipper, watching as Jaehyun undressed Johnny, doing the same with his shorts as he kissed down the older man’s neck. You were left in now ruined cotton panties, the drenched fabric clinging to your folds in an awkward way. Your eyes turned to the pair in front of you as Jaehyun pulled down Johnny’s boxers, leaving him naked as well. They faced you, and Johnny grabbed you by the ankle, dragging you towards them with a soft smile on his face. You laughed quietly, the noise dying when Jaehyun grabbed your other leg as well and parted them, before lying in between them, face inches away from your core.

“John, baby,” He said, craning his neck to stare at him, “Can I…?”

“Go ahead, pretty boy,” Johnny replied, as he lay next to you, “Y/N made you feel good earlier, and we need to get her ready for us, right? You can return the favor, can’t you?”

Jaehyun nodded, and Johnny raised an eyebrow as he moved to lie next to you. “Words, baby boy.”

Jaehyun gulped, hands resting on your hips. “Yes, John.”

His hands reached for your panties, his eyes meeting yours as he pressed a kiss to your thigh. Your hand brushed some sandy brown hair out of his eyes, and you hummed as you watched him pull down the last piece of clothing, discarding it. “Jae,” You mumbled, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

Jaehyun smiled, the tips of his ears turning red. It had taken you a few weeks for you to put it together when you started dating, but you eventually figured out that Jaehyun loved getting praised. Anytime you or Johnny said something about how good or handsome he was, how nice he made either of you feel, he’d turn to putty in your hands.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders, his face close to where you needed him most but did nothing. He was riling you up, you knew he was. He loved to do this, loved to wait how long he could wait before making you beg. “Babe,” You murmured, “Jae, please don’t tease me.”

His eyes twinkled with something you couldn’t read as he pressed another kiss to your thigh, big, rough hands gripping your hips possessively. “You beg so nicely, princess. How could I refuse?”

He lowered his mouth to your hole, and your eyes squeezed shut, hissing out at the sensitivity. Johnny pressed a kiss to your forehead. The hand that wasn’t tugging on Jaehyun’s hair shot out to grasp Johnny’s forearm. Johnny responded by grabbing your hand and guiding it to his cock, and you obeyed his silent command by wrapping your hand around him, pumping him slowly.

You could hear his breathing right next to your ear, combined with the wet sounds Jaehyun was making as he mouthed along your slit. You weren’t sure what to focus on, letting out a high keen as Jaehyun slid a finger inside of you, his mouth coming up to suckle on your clit.

“Ah, Jaehyun, baby,” You whined, hips trying to move, but being stopped by Jaehyun’s other hand, “F-feels so good.”

Jaehyun hummed against your clit, the vibration causing you to squirm even further, crying out his name. Already you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach again, forcing you to focus on Jaehyun’s mouth, alternating between sucking your clit and flicking it with the tip of your tongue.

“You like how he’s making you feel, baby girl?” Johnny asked a few moments later, and you nodded as he pressed his forehead against your temple to whisper into your ear. “You like the way he’s being a good boy and eating your pussy like he’s starving?”

You nodded again, whining even louder when Jaehyun added a second finger. Johnny’s hand rose to your breast, teasing your nipple as your head fell back, hand falling into a sloppy rhythm against Johnny’s cock. He pinched harshly, and you tried to move away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let you. “Neither of you seem to want to use your words today, huh? Come on, princess, tell Jaehyun how much you like it.”

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but shrieking when Jaehyun’s fingers began to thrust into you at a rapid pace. Your hips were bucking wildly against Jaehyun’s mouth and fingers now, despite his best efforts to hold you down.

“J-Jae, fuck, fuck, fuck… Ah, your fingers are s-so big… They’re fucking me so good, I-I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can h-hold on much longer…”

“Aw, already?” Jaehyun teased from between your legs, fingers not letting up as he slowed down their pace, “It’s only been a few minutes.”

“Jaehyun,” You whined, grasp tightening on his hair, “I’m gonna come, p-please…”

“No.”

Your eyes shot open to glare at Johnny, breathing heavily as Jaehyun removed his fingers from your aching core, and your hand stopped its movement against Johnny’s dick. “Why not?” You whined, and Johnny sat up, propping himself against the faded maroon headboard of the bed.

“Because you’re not cumming again until both of us have.” His tone was stern, leaving no room for argument. His gaze, however, was warm. “Now, what’s gonna happen is this: you’re gonna get on your hands and knees, and pretty boy over there is gonna fuck you from behind, and you’re gonna let me fuck your face. Can you two do that for me?”

He was giving both you and Jaehyun the chance to drop it now, disguised under the illusion of a command. But you didn’t want to stop. You rarely did when it came to your boyfriends.

“Yes, John,” You and Jaehyun answered at the same time, looking at him. Johnny grinned, patting his thighs with both hands.

“Come here, Y/N. Hands and knees, like I said.”

You crawled over to him, eyes not leaving Johnny’s face. His dark eyes followed yours, face covered with a light sheen of sweat, hair brushed back to reveal his forehead. You leaned forward when you got to the spot where he ordered you to be, pressing a kiss to his jawline. Your mouth trailed down to his neck, smiling against his skin when you heard him sigh in satisfaction.

You felt the bed shift as Jaehyun came to kneel behind you, hands trailing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your kisses trailed down Johnny’s tan skin, past his collarbones, across his pecs, down his stomach, ghosting along his right hip. Your lips left his skin as Jaehyun gripped your hip with one hand, using his hand to grind his dick against your soaking folds.

“You want me to put it in, baby?” Jaehyun asked you, and you nodded without hesitating, your face heating at your desperation. “Yes, Jae.”

“Suck Johnny’s dick and I’ll do whatever you want, lovely girl.”

His words were accompanied by Johnny’s hands touching the back of your neck, not pushing, but still commanding a certain power over you, still compelling you to lower yourself onto his cock.

One thing you’d learned very early on from having sex with both Johnny and Jaehyun, you thought as you let your mouth relax around Johnny’s dick, was that they were both bigger than the past lays you’d had. Jaehyun was a bit longer, but Johnny was thicker. Regardless, they both had the power to leave your legs shaking, and your throat scratchy for days.

Once you’d allowed your jaw to loosen enough, you began bobbing your head up and down slowly, tonguing along the underside of the shaft. Your hands held you up, grasping Johnny’s toned thighs for support. A rush came through you as you realized that those thighs were what had made you come earlier, and that helped you push Johnny even further down your throat.

A groan bubbled out of Johnny’s throat, and Jaehyun took that as his sign to push into you. You moaned against Johnny, and his groan got louder, hands pushing you even further against Johnny’s pelvis. You held back the urge to gag, forcing yourself to focus on breathing through your nose despite the intrusion in your mouth.  

Jaehyun’s movements started slow, letting you get used to the both of them fucking into you from both ends. He let out a low hiss as you clenched around him, hips grinding against you in a way that had you seeing stars.

It was as if they were connected telepathically, something unspoken between the two of them that always confused and amused you. You felt the amusement again as they both sped up the movements of their hips at the same time, a gradual buildup from teasing, subtle grinding, to harsh bucks of the hips, fucking in and out of you as if you were their own little tool for pleasure, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Any noises that left you were either muffled shrieks of pleasure as Jaehyun pounded away at your still sensitive pussy, or gagging noises, as Johnny’s hands forced you up and down his cock, bottoming out into your throat whenever he wanted to prolong little bursts of ecstasy. Tears were running down your face as he did so, and when he noticed, he let out a strained laugh.

“Hey, baby girl, are you crying because of my dick or Jaehyun’s?”

He pulled you off of him, and you took the chance to catch your breath before answering a few seconds later.

“B-both,” You moaned, and Jaehyun grunted in acknowledgement.

“Good,” He hummed, and you bit your lip as you fucked back against him, “Using our little girl like this feels so nice, doesn’t it, Johnny?”

“It feels fucking fantastic, pretty boy,” Johnny answered as you craned your neck to kiss along his shaft, “She’s so small, but she takes us both like a fucking champ. Maybe next time we should stuff her pussy and her ass at the same time… would you like that, angel?”

You cried out enthusiastically, stomach twisting at the suggestion. Jaehyun threw his head back, letting out a guttural groan.

“Oh, she’d love that, baby. You should’ve felt how much tighter she got when you said that.”

Johnny grinned, and lifted you off of his cock one more time.

“Hey, Y/N,” He said, lifting your chin to get you to look at him.

“H-hey, Johnny,” You whimpered, and Johnny pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Get off his dick, princess,” He told you, loud enough for Jaehyun to hear, “I’ve got an idea.”

Jaehyun stopped his movements, pulling out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness, and Johnny patted your head to calm you before standing. Given that the bed frame was a lot lower than most beds, it allowed him to tower over both you and Jaehyun as Johnny propped the younger man up, then told you to sit in his lap, letting Jaehyun slide back inside of you.

“I wanna watch you both,” He murmured lovingly, carding a hand through Jaehyun’s hair, who hummed happily. Your mind was turning fuzzy fast, clinging to Jaehyun and pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Can we still touch you, Johnny?” You asked, voice small, flashing him big, pouty eyes that he could seldom refuse as he sat back down at where he once was.

Johnny nodded, his hand moving to your head and repeating the movement he’d made on Jaehyun’s head. “Of course you can, baby,” He answered, “But you’ll do it when I say so and how I tell you to do it. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Johnny.”

“Okay.”

Johnny smiled at the both of you, and slowly Jaehyun began his rhythm again, fucking in and out of you slowly, before speeding up again. Your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking on a spot you wanted to leave a mark on, and your hands came up to toy with his nipple piercings, mimicking what Johnny had been doing to him earlier.

Jaehyun groaned, eyebrows furrowing and eyes fluttering shut as you began to move with him and tug at the piercings. He turned his head to lock eyes with Johnny, who was stroking himself as he watched the two of you gradually lose control against each other’s body. The two held each other’s gaze, Jaehyun’s eyes lowering first as he pressed a kiss to your  sweaty forehead.

“John,” Jaehyun pleaded, voice deep and teasing, “Come here, daddy, I wanna jack you off.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. You and Jaehyun only brought out daddy when you wanted to be little shits to him and tease him more than usual. Nevertheless, he relented, standing and walking around the bed. Your eyes peeled open a few moments later, finding Johnny standing to the side of you, cock being stroked by Jaehyun as he continued to roll his hips into you.

Given that the bed was lower than usual, and Johnny was freakishly tall, his dick was more or less level with your faces, and through the hazy pleasure of Jaehyun pounding away at you, you got an idea.

You leaned slightly to the side, pressing a kiss to the head of Johnny’s member, and Johnny groaned as he realized what you wanted to do. Jaehyun seemed to like the idea, his hips fucking into you even faster once he registered what was going on.

Johnny used his knees to lean against the mattress, allowing you to lean back into your original position as he tipped his head back.

“Our dirty girl,” Johnny hissed, “You want cock so bad, don’t you? Can’t handle just one fucking you, you need another one down your throat.”

Jaehyun pulled you off of him. “Give him an answer, sweetheart,” He ordered, before taking your place and taking Johnny into his mouth.

“I’m yours,” You told them, “Want you both all day, all night, ngh, always… I love you both s-so much, I can’t handle not being fucked like this ever again…”

“You belong to us now, baby. We own you, body and soul.” Johnny’s voice was slightly strained now, but his words still held the same effect. You were eager to agree, unable to say anything as Jaehyun hit the one spot inside of you that had you crying out his name.

“Fuck, Jae! Right there!”

Jaehyun pulled off of Johnny’s cock, pulling you into a bruising kiss as he continued to hit your sweet spot time and time again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum again soon?” Jaehyun asked when he pulled away, and you nodded, before turning to Johnny and taking him into your mouth again.

“Don’t forget, princess,” Johnny said, “You can’t cum until either of us have. Understood?”

You nodded, trying to hold off the impending wave that was soon to crash on you.

“I’m so fucking close, Johnny,” Jaehyun mumbled, and Johnny gave a garbled agreement when Jaehyun’s free hand came up to stroke along with your hand.

“Me too, baby,” Johnny groaned, “You gonna fill Y/N up? Cum inside that tight pussy of hers?”

Your legs wrapped around Jaehyun’s waist, before you pulled your mouth away from Johnny, opting to stroke him as Jaehyun took him into his mouth once more.

“Give it to me, Jae,” You begged, voice shaky.

Johnny came first with a loud, “Fuck!” He watched as you and Jaehyun took turns licking away the cum as it shot out of the tip of his dick, tongues meeting occasionally as you both mouthed along the head.

“Shit, you’re both so good to me.”

Jaehyun’s orgasm came moments later. He buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as his pace turned sloppy and sporadic, filling you with hot cum as he groaned out both your name and Johnny’s. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your insides as he twitched against your walls, painting them white, but you didn’t stop bouncing in his lap.

“Y-you both came,” You moaned, desperate to cum. You could see on Jaehyun’s face that he was growing sensitive as well, but his hands on your waist weren’t stopping you at all. “Please let me cum, I’ve been a good girl…”

Johnny sat behind you, letting your head roll onto his shoulder. One hand wrapped around your neck, not squeezing, but still tight enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Yeah, you’ve been really well behaved tonight, baby. You weren’t as bratty as you usually are, hmm?”

You couldn’t answer, not when his other hand reached down to tap away at your swollen clit.

“J-John, ah—”

“You wanna cum, baby girl?”

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut as your hips took on a mind of their own.

“Then cum, sweetheart.”

And somehow, his deep, warm voice triggered your orgasm.

You threw your head back, almost positive that what you were speaking in tongues rather than actually saying anything coherent. You clung onto Jaehyun with one hand, writhing in his hold, and reached back to grip Johnny’s bicep. Beneath your eyelids, colors danced around you. You were certain this was what heaven felt like, and that this was some sort of divine ascension…

Verona, Nevada, 10:06 PM

When you managed to come down, you felt groggy, and your vision felt hazy, as if you were in a dream.  The only sound came from the three of you, breathing heavily as you recovered from what had just happened. The room smelled like sex, sweat, and oddly enough, greasy pizza.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun murmured, “You still with us?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the scratchiness in your throat. "Yeah… ‘m good. Came really hard.”

Johnny chuckled from behind you, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Certainly looked like it, baby.”

You smiled, eyes drooping already at the tiredness you were beginning to feel.  

You settled down between the two of them, ignoring the smell of sweat emanating from the three of you all together. Yes, you loved being like this, sandwiched between your two favorite people, but you couldn’t deny that the body heat radiating from everyone, plus slight tackiness of sweaty skin against more sweaty skin made you want to cringe. And as much as you loved the idea of Jaehyun’s cum staying inside of you, it was slowly beginning to trickle down your thigh, further contributing to your growing discomfort.

“I need to shower,” You finally mumbled, rubbing your eyes sleepily, before pouting. Looking around the motel room, you noted that it was dingy enough, you didn’t want to imagine the bathroom. “How bad is the bathroom?”

Jaehyun groaned, hand coming to rub at his forehead in disdain.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ nasty.”

“...Shit.”

[highstwildflower]

Hey :) can you write a small oneshot of Ash being bffs with you and ure working two jobs but refuse to accept his help amd ur also in love with him but dont think hed ever like u back but idk one day he forces u to accept help and also somehow tells u that he loves u and idk u can make out of this what u want, or nothing at all😅 i just thought its a cute idea and yea🙈😅

The one

A/n: thank you for the request! I’m having major writers block, so I hope this is ok! I really like the idea it’s super cute🤍

Words: 1376

"Y/n im hereeee!" His loud voice bounced through your apartment and you screw your eyes shut and mentally scolded yourself. With quick feet you walked towards him, his white tee was tight over his strong torso, the man bun resting at the nap of his neck made you feel weak. "I'm so so sorry Ash I doubled booked, I have to be at work in 20" you shot him your best smile and sorrowful eyes. The groan that left his lips made you feel even worse for wasting his time "I'm really sorry I am! I really need the money, I'm struggling with paying for University" the second the words left your lips you regretted it. His tan hands reached for your shoulders and he gently shook you "hello dummy I'm here to help you!? That is what best friends are for y/n. You don't have to work two jobs, I literally have too much money, let me help you" you had been here before, Ashton wanted to help you and he really didn't see the problem. You on the other hand was not so keen on borrowing money from you best friend who you were desperately in love with. The cliché that made up your life made you giggle dryly "No thanks Ash. I promise I'll catch up with you another day." You didn't wanna send him away, you wanted to hang out with him, hear his beautiful laugh while listening to his new record while he would geek out about some music knowledge you didn't have, but instead you had to usher him to leave.

"I'm not gonna leave, you are not gonna work that much I won't take it. Let me take care of you" he was smiling at you, but the smile was insisting, you didn't want him to help you. You knew how it was going to go, he would end up hating you and having only resentment towards you.

"No Ashton" your voice was stern and the usage of his full name made him understand that you were serious. He groaned and moved further into your home until he took a seat on your couch "hello? Do you not hear me? I'm have to leave." His eyes meet yours, the normally bubbly and friendly light was off and instead you were met with anger "no y/n I'm going to sit here until you accept my help." Angry you walked towards him "get out Ashton, I'm not gonna accept your help!" He just shrugged his shoulders and leaned back. "Fuck this" you mumbled as you left your apartment.

8 hours later you shift ended. The hours had dragged by slowly and you had spent every single minute regretting the encounter with Ashton. Your heart was his, and fighting with him made you feel sick. You had loved him for ages and watched been with other, so you knew he didn't feel the same towards you. But after his last ended relationship you couldn't help but allow yourself to be lulled into a story where he was slowly falling in love with you. When he would pull you in for a hug, you would imagine how it would feel to press your naked body against his. Reality was that you were just friends, or at least you used to be.

The grey sky had opened above you making you drenched, with tired steps you carried yourself home. A heavy feeling of the whole world being against you hung over you like a blanket, when you arrived in front of your door you stopped in your steps. Light was creeping around your door and a light humming hit your ears, a soft smile tugged at your lips and instantly your life felt better.

On the other side of the door Ashton was cooking while humming along to his favorite tune that reminded him of you. The opening of the door alerted him that you were home and he spun around to look at you. You were quick to engulf him in a hug and he was also quick to hug you back, both of you relaxing in to the hug. "I'm so sorry " you mumbled into his chest to which he rubbed your back. The hug when on for longer than what normal is but neither of seemed to care. "We need to talk hun" his voice was back to his normal voice and not the bossy one you had heard earlier but his words made your inside crawl. You both pulled back and he lead you to the couch. You looked at each other and he spoke first "I wanna help you, it's not fair that I get to have a lot of money because of my work and then you have nothing tho you are working your ass off" he was sincere and you knew he felt this way. He worked his ass off too, but you would agree that he was well paid. "Ash, I really appreciated the offer but I have to make my own living. I can't use you like that" before the words even had rolled of your tongue he answered you "is not using when I'm offering. Please just let me help you " the conversation was calm but it wasn't getting you anywhere and you felt your frustration grow. "Ashton we need to end this conversation ok?" He was disappointed and not ready to let go "no y/n. I..I..I" it was like the words he was about to say made him scared and that made you feel frightened. "I love you y/n and I wanna help you " you let out a breath "yeah I know ash, I love you too. But you " "no, I don't love you like that, I love you like the love of my life love " his words took you back and you winched. The words you were so desperate to hear now seemed as a cruel joke. He wasn't in love with you, all the girls who had laid in his bed while he knew you were a testimony to that. Within a rapid motion you stood from the couch "you can't say shit like that" your voice was small but stern, pacing the room your head was spinning from his confession. Ashton raised from his place as well. His body was in front of you within seconds, stopping your motion "listen to me y/n, please. I understand why you don't believe me, but hear me out?" Your eyes met once more and you wanted to hear him out, if there was even a chance for the life you wanted you wanted to take it. Carefully you sat down again, as if any quick movement would smash this fragile moment and make reality drag you down into a pit of darkness. His hand reached for yours and you allowed him to hold it while he spoke "I didn't realize how much I love you until recently y/n. I mean, I knew you were special but I always just thought that we were bffs, and I wouldn't wanna ruin that. I still don't" His ramble came to a short break as his breath was uneven and his eyes wild. Your thumb rubbed over his palm and he carried on " When my last relationship ended I finally saw it. You are here for me through everything, you are the one who encourage me when I'm down, the one who listen to my endlessly talk about music, the one who pretends to care about what ever I like. You are the one who holds my hand when im scared, y/n. I want you to hold my hand forever, and I wanna hold yours. When im feeling down you are the one who makes me smile again. Its like we were meant to be, and im sorry that I didn't realize it sooner." 

His hand reached for your head and you allowed him to pull you close. Noses rubbing against one another, breath fanning the others face and lips touching ever so slightly. You leaned forward and melted into the kiss. The world faded, every problem didn't matter. He was there with you, and that was all you really needed.

[sinkix]

♡ Haikyuu!!│Boys as your Roommate HC’s Pt.2│Ft. Kuroo, Bokuto, Kenma & Kageyama ♡

Since the last one did well I decided to do another 2am shit-post consisting of my bby HQ bois as your roommate so I’m v sorry if it’s messy and seems like rambling but honestly what did u expect. <(￣︶￣)> The more I write these the more I just want to summon satan and make them come to life man I love them sm.

You can find Pt. 1 here

E N J O Y ~ <3

◃:✮.❃⭒ ◃:✮.❃⭒ ◃:✮.❃⭒ ◃:✮.❃⭒

Kuroo:

So. Damn. Annoying

But in like, the best way possible??

Constantly teases and irritates you while cooking or when it’s your turn to do the chores.

“(Y/N)-kuuun I think you missed a spot”

Proceeds to show swabbed finger with the tiniest speck of dust on it with the biggest shit eating grin he can muster

You have constant competitions who can clean more thoroughly and rip into each other as a result.

I mean there’s worse things to compete over I suppose??

He likes to make it a habit of waking you up by throwing his HUGE ASS BODY ON TO THE BED IF YOU OVERSLEEP.

WHOLE BED JUST CREAKS AND DIPS UNDER HIS WEIGHT.

Wraps his arm around you and gives amazing cuddles tho so its worth it

Borderline suffocating you though just so you get up.

Also, don’t wake Kuroo when he’s had only a few hours rest

just, don’t. If you value your safety.

Last time you tried to haul him out of bed in this state he threw a pillow at you and BITCH WENT TO GRAB THE ALARM CLOCK NEXT but u dashed out the room before he could lob it. 

Speaking of which, pillow fights. 

so many.

 Y’all are always throwing random stuff at each other just to startle one another

You both make a conscious effort NOT to aim for the head though so I guess its ok???

The aroma of coffee always greets you in the morning and it’s become hella comforting since you’ve just come to associate that smell with him.

His bed head is 1000x more extreme in the morning which you tease him relentlessly for and def has bags under his eyes but it looks cute.

sleep deprivation but make it chic.

He is much more of a night owl i’m making it canon idc - however usually has to sleep early due to club activities starting first thing in the morning.

He wakes up especially early because he knows he not only has to haul himself up at an ungodly hour but Kenma as well since he NEVER gets up on time otherwise.

Kenma lives a few blocks down from you guys and you often kick it as a three.

Sometimes he stays over just to save the extra effort of Kuroo going to his place.

It’s always v chill with the three of you as you get on really well and just play mario kart till 2am.

which again, big mistake. They end up nearly being late to practise so it’s kinda counter productive lmao

worth it though.

Kuroo is a salty loser js and will definitely wave his arms in front of you or shove his ass in your face to block the screen so he can overtake you.

Sometimes forces you to go on early morning runs with him but it’s actually really nice since you watch the sunrise together while sitting for a water break in an empty field

Almost poetic if it wasn’t for the constant teasing and bickering like an old married couple.

Kenma is VERY thankful you have become his new victim for those morning run routines.

Bokuto:

SCREAMS FROM THE ROOFTOPS EVERY DAY

MY GOD

Actually pretty quiet in the morning?? Like the lil owl is just waking up so he usually just mumbles a good-morning and rubs his eyes its so damn cute

Usually pretty good about getting up on time but some days he needs a kick up the backside to get him out of bed.

He fully made you drag him out of the covers once before he was even willing to entertain the idea of getting up.

those 30 seconds felt like a 30 minute workout since he is so HEAVY.

I feel sorry for the neighbours on that day tbh

“Bokuto-san wake up.” 

“NNNgg-aaagGGHHHHH AGGAAASHIII”

“It’s (Y/N) you dumbass G E T U P”

You aren’t safe for long though because ONCE HE’S AWAKE HOMEBOY IS RARING TO GO.

Frequently makes y’all pancakes for breakfast with a frilly pink ‘best chef’ apron on and it’s fucking hysterical. 

actually has several aprons and one of them has a stock image of abs printed onto the front.

Pancakes is the only thing Bokuto is competent at so don’t expect anything else without the kitchen combusting

His pancakes are SO damn good tho like bitch who taught you to flip like dat.

Does a lil shimmy with his body and throws it back each time he flips so it basically aggregates as a performance too since hes so extra

One time the pancake landed on the floor and he was in emo mode for a whole day LMAOOO

boy was spiking while mourning the fallen soldier.

Akaashi was so confused as to why he walked into practise in such a solemn mood.

had to stifle his laughter once you told him the reason.

For some reason you have this tradition to play board games on a Friday night

Obvs you have to let him win and be a cocky ass bc otherwise he will be sad until the next morning.

sis will be in a slump while brushing his teeth over losing a game of monopoly.

Doesn’t expect you to come to practise with him but is always grinning like a dork the whole way there when you accompany him.

His game is always A1 on those days so Akaashi is eternally grateful.

Often tries to make you go to the gym with him SINCE Y’ALL BEST BELIEVE BOKUTO BABY AIN’T SKIPPIN LEG DAY.

Actually a really good workout partner though, he’s so hype and encouraging.

Grocery shopping is a nightmare, y’all come back with 3x as much as what was on the list while Bokuto just looks really sheepish and guilty like a dog who shredded up the sofa.

Kageyama:

Your conversations are very minimal at first until he adjusts to living with you.

Hella private with his living space and his bedroom

You always suspected he’s got some like weird alien cult meeting from Fiji going on in there with how shady he acts sometimes.

After a while though he’s pretty chill and doesn’t mind TOO much when you invade his personal space or go through his stuff.

I’d still be careful though an angry Kags is not a pleasant one.

He’s a minimalist, so if you ever get decorating done it’s usually you that takes the reigns since as long as it’s got a roof, a stove, a bathroom and a bed he could literally not give a fuck.

Unexpectedly easy to please over the smallest things, make a meal for him after a long day of practise and it’ll be hard for him to contain an appreciative smile.

Do NOT pull him up on it though bc he will get defensive 

just embrace it bro you won’t see it often.

V good at getting up on time and hella quiet in the morning when going about his routine, it’s easy to forget he’s in the house a times so at least he’s considerate.

Honestly doesn’t care whether you come to practise or not it makes no difference to him. Though the closer you both get he will sometimes wait for the moment you walk through the door and mentally slap himself for doing so.

Sometimes plays music in his room but it’s always really quiet and hard to decipher unless you press your ear up against the door.

The boi plays some BOPS though which is really surprising???

Usually takes charge of stuff like grocery shopping, cleaning etc. 

Control freak™️ here to assist your household services. 

He’s pretty dense though with these matters and needs some guidance at times lmao

Will not get the item on your list unless you CLEARLY SPECIFY AND INCLUDE THE WHOLE DAMN TITLE OF THE ITEM

You’re surprised he doesn’t request you illustrate the fucking bar code.

In the end you sometimes end up caving and just either going with him or going in his place.

Once he warms up to you y’all like cracking little jokes at each other and pulling one another’s leg.

if you get up even the slightest bit late he’ll just throw a lil “good afternoon” with a smirk on his face.

Sometimes he will come and chill with you on the couch to binge watch shows and it’s just a really relaxed atmosphere.

has really good taste in movies and series??

Honestly just a hella respectful roommate as long as you respect him and his privacy in return.

You once stuck his knee-pads in the washing machine on a high temp and they came out ready to fit a 6 year old.

You still suspect he holds a grudge to this day.

He also tried to give them to Hinata and never have you seen him more genuinely offended lmao.

Kenma:

The pair of you always end up oversleeping and it’s a genuine problem ur the definition of a disaster duo.

If it wasn’t for Kuroo strolling into your sleeping quarters most mornings you guys would sleep till the suns ready to set again.

Bless up Kuroo.

Constant video game marathons and y’all always compete to top each others time

It’s basically just the speed-run side of YouTube but under one roof.

Cannot and will not cook he is too LAZY for that.

Only thing he will do is stick an apple pie in the oven.

He’s courteous though he leaves you like,,, a 1/8th slice

smh.

You mostly get take-out or you’re the one that ends up cooking.

Veeryyyyy quiet, only noise in the household is the occasional snicker or lil conversation.

he has such a soothing voice hnnnnnnnnnggggg

The only time it’s remotely loud is when you play video games but even then the volume is quite low.

You usually end up crashing in his room from playing games till the crack of dawn and Kuroo frequently scolds the two of you.

you don’t listen though lmao.

For some reason you both end up in a hugging position when you wake up and neither of you have addressed it.

Except for the sus side eye look Kuroo gives the pair of you when he finds you like this.

He knows if he mentions it you’ll both infiltrate his apartment and choke him out with a console cable lololol.

You order most of your groceries online bc Kenma’s social anxiety will skyrocket and not allow him to be in a store full of more than 10 people, poor bby.

It works out for you too since why tf go there when you can have it delivered to your door.

You often binge watch anime together and he has GREAT taste mind you.

You made him watch a romance anime once and he secretly enjoyed it.

Since then he will very awkwardly request to watch them occasionally and you can’t help but smile.

The only time you clean is when you have to, like bins brimming with trash before you decide to take them out.

You accidentally broke his fav controller once and he didn’t talk to you for a week LMAO.

Still handed you one to play split-screen though so you knew he wasn’t entirely resentful.