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bloomyagi · 4 years ago

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bleed me dry (m)

summary: where Itadori is your bottom-loving boyfriend and Sukuna reluctantly learns this vessel is the real curse. or: where seduction is a dangerous game, and the King of Curses loses.

pairings: itadori x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader

warnings: subby itadori, sub sukuna (yeah you read that right), light bondage, blindfolds, sukuna’s havin a whole ‘reconsidering life’s meaning’ moment, lotta swear cause u know sukuna things, coming untouched, he faints (yeah you also read that right) and is actually unabashed about it, all things considered

length: 1,432

notes: what? me? obsessed with jjk? that doesn’t sound like me at all!

His vessel is in love.

The word curdles in his mouth, tastes like ash. He has never known such a thing. It is part of his nature, he muses absently. Hardened from centuries of death and decay. Of destruction and war. He revels in it. Feels the most alive amongst the chaos.

But that’s the point. Curses can feel. They can have emotional attachment. Can’t you see? In so many ways, they’re not so different from us. He thinks you’re too loud. Your thoughts and beliefs are too loud. They’re also pointless and naïve, and he likes to pop by just to drive it home.

Hello, Sukuna. Where is the fear? Where is the resentment, the anger? The disgust? He enjoys it. But you—you just sit there and coax him into conversation like he’s another one of your classmates. Like he can’t crush your windpipe with a single flick of his hand. Like he isn’t the slow bleed of a death sentence for your lover. Like he isn’t anything at all. Like his titles and powers are stripped. What is he beyond it all? Who is he?

You ask about him sometimes. He rarely gives any indication he’s listening, but he does. Of course he does. There’s not much to do, bound and locked in this pink-haired boy. He lounges on this throne and watches his vessel pine and blush.

Sukuna watches his vessel fuck his fist and mewl your name every night.

It’s sad. “Brat,” he hisses. “Grow some balls. This is just pathetic.”

Itadori swallows. “Oh. Can you—?”

Sukuna shoves him off the ledge. A faint yelp travels, followed by a large splash. “Fuck her already. All this sitting and plotting is making my ass itch. If you won’t, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sukuna tilts his head to peer down. Itadori’s eyes are narrowed, uncharacteristically solemn.

His lips bare into a slow grin. “Try me.”

Itadori blinks once. And then vanishes.

Fuck. It’s the only coherent thought his muddled mind can pierce together. He gazes down at his palm, opening and closing languidly. His vision is blurry, spine tingling. He raises the other hand, reaching for his palm.

Mmm. He shakes his head firmly. The sharp tinge of metallic and iron coating his tongue clears the fog a little. The pain fades quickly, muted from his years of conquest and ruin.

Every nerve is on fire. His skin, this flesh cage, burns, an unfamiliar heat curling in his lower stomach. Sukuna is no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh—is well-acquainted, spent much of the centuries indulging in his vast harems. In the haze of blood and carnage, there is the memory of writhing bodies, of soft thighs and breasts, of glazed eyes and cries of his name. Of women fucked into wanton abandon, bred and lost in the worship of his cock.

But this. This heat is foreign in every sense. In its strange intensity and all-encompassing hold. All his senses are heightened but laser focused on the other pair of hands mapping his body. On the addicting sensations they’re inducing.

Can you—? Yes. Yes, he fucking can. He can feel everything and he wants to wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze.

His eyes roll back. Ngh.

“Fucking wench,” he snarls. You’re a fuckin’ tease and if you edge him again, he is going to murder—

“Ah, ah. Watch your language, Sukuna. Ask nicely.”

He jolts. Finds his eyes cloaked in darkness, arms tied to his back and legs spread. Bare, save for a pair of briefs that’s slick and restricting. Kneeling. The sheets bunch beneath him. Every muscle in his body is tensed, body coated in a thin layer of sweat.

This position—!

“That brat—mmph!” Is that a fucking—gag? Did you just gag him? He struggles harder against the binds, but he feels your lips curl into a smile where you’re suckling against the column of his neck.

“You’re powerless here. The binds will restrict you for the next twenty-four hours … unless you can be good.” You trace the thick knots, smiling only growing at the way he lets out a muffled growl.

Every fucking sense is heightened tenfold. He’s on firefirefire. The flames consuming him inside out, like he’s being exorcised from within.

It’s humiliating. It’s exhilarating. It feels—

“King of Curses. I want you to beg.” You’re a witch. You’re enthralling. Temptation incarnate. His head falls forward, chest heaving.

“Mmmmf!”

“What a dirty mouth,” you murmur, and his struggling is renewed when he feels your fingers dig into his thighs.

Oi, brat, he growls. What the hell is this?

His vessel is silent, but the back of his mind prickles. He’s watching. That freaky little shit.

“So stubborn. Let go. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” Fuckfuckfuck, you’re palming his cock over the thin fabric. Maybe it’s been a while, maybe there’s a little more truth lurking beneath it, but he vaguely notes he’s never been so hard before.

You—! You’re fuckin’ burning his briefs off. Ash tickles his nose. A small part of him thinks it’s hot. His cock throbs, and even without visual confirmation, he knows you’ve paused at the sheer size. His mouth curls into a lopsided smirk, dark pride making his chest swell. What was he so worked up for? You’ll just end being another one of his breeding bitches, fucked stupid by his thick, long cock.

But then you pinch his left nipple, twisting harshly. Electricity courses through him and a sound he’s never heard in his absurdly long life escape his lips, muffled by the gag. His back arcs, head hitting the mattress beneath him.

His mind blanks, eyes rolling back as white noise fills his ears.

He rouses slowly.

He blinks lethargically at the ceiling, gaze unfocused. Everything feels muted, limbs heavy like he’s swimming in a pool of ink. But he’s not restrained anymore. There’s a blur of movement in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head to peer at you, half-lidded.

“That’s a very nice expression,” you chuckle, moving to sit by his side. The mattress dips lightly. He lifts a hand to tug at the hem of your outfit, expression twisting at the staggering movement.

“That’s a very nice look on you,” he murmurs in response. You’re wearing one of his vessel’s dress shirts, the oversized fabric falling mid-thigh. It simultaneously swallows you and presses against your curves. Something inside him stirs. His throat feels shot, even though he knows he hasn’t had much of a chance to speak.

You help him sit up, propped against the headrest, before offering him a glass of water. His lips lift into a half-smirk and you sigh, shaking your head but acquiescing. You take a mouthful before kissing him. Water dribbles down his chin.

You wipe it away with a half-fond, half-exasperated expression. His chest tightens.

“How long—?” He tries to move, but you stop him with a firm hand. He’s conflicted at the way his body responds immediately to the touch. His temperature flares despite his obvious fatigue.

“A few hours. I asked if Yuuji would keep you out until you woke.”

There’s a pause, and the knowing look in your eye tells him you know he’s mulling it over.

And then—

He reaches for you, and you set the glass aside to climb on his lap.

He bares his fangs. “Then let’s make the most of it.”

As you press him into the bed, tongue stroking his in such a manner his brain is starting to haze over again quickly, he thinks, brat, we’re going to have a long talk after this.

Sukuna doesn’t expect an answer after his vessel’s continued vigil, so he starts when Itadori replies, she’s ours.

I don’t share, he slurs. He thinks he sees a flicker of Itadori’s grin.

You’re going to have to. Because you like her, too. And she’s the one in control, not either of us.

Dimly, Sukuna acknowledges he’s right. You might be the one bouncing on his cock, but he’s not the one fucking you, you’re the one fucking him.

Fine, he gasps as you run your nails down his abdomen. Deal.

Good, his vessel says. Because I’m next, and you better not get in the way.

He growls, eyebrows knitting.

Your smile only grows.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #itadori smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #sub!sukuna

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rabbitcage · 3 years ago

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“I know we’re delicate, so God forbid we’re broken.”

This tiktok got me thinking about Yotasuke. I think it sums up his character pretty well.

He’s been put on a pedestal for as long as he can remember. Don’t you think he, too, wants to be plastic? Wants to be normal? The “cupboard”, or the “cage”, protects the supposedly valuable china, the delicate china, the better china. Or rather, confines it. Why can’t it see the light of day if it’s so prized as people say? Does it not deserve to live a life as fulfilling as what we perceive as “disposable” china? If the rabbit is so treasured, then why is it never touched? Does the rabbit not also long for love?

The rabbit has never left its cage, yet it can see the animals outside. Animals experiencing life in all its forms. The “animals”, they laugh, cry - they live. They live because they are allowed to. They live because they allow themselves to. The animals, they are meant to be free. They are not meant to be held down by expectations, nor put on a pedestal. But to the rabbit, they are inferior. They are inferior for enjoying the life they were born into. How come those “lesser” than the rabbit are those meant to live? Does the rabbit not also deserve to live? “If I am more valuable, more beautiful, more treasured, why am I not allowed to live?”

Does the rabbit want to leave its cage? Not even he knows. The cage is all he’s ever known, after all. He is caged because he is precious; at least, that’s what he’s been told. Yet, he knows it to be true. He’s been made to believe it to be true by its owner, just like how the fine china has learned to preserve itself. Deep down, however, the rabbit wants to be free. Free from the labels put upon him. He knows this to be true. As long as the rabbit remains untouched, he may live forever. But what is living if not feeling? The rabbit also deserves to feel for he is more than what he believes. The rabbit is more than simply precious; the rabbit is an animal, like any other. The rabbit deserves to live, to feel, by virtue of this. Is a crack or two not evidence that you have lived? Yes, it is evidence that you have felt. It is evidence that you have laughed and cried and yelled. The rabbit opened his cage, for he has the right to do so.

Probably going to edit this later. i don’t think I articulated my thoughts well but I hope u guys saw my vision

ah yota. the scrimblo!!! love him lots. one of my fav characters ever! but yes I will be reviewing this it is 11 pm on a sunday and I have dried my brain of its juice. runs around in circles trying to form a coherent sentence about yotasuke

#yotasuke #yotasuke takahashi #blue period

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melloncreamsoda · 2 years ago

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hii can i just say i LOVED ur recent post about the twst boys reacting to reader’s near death experience !! since reqs are opening i was wondering if i could req how the heartslabyul guys plan to propose to their s/o in the future? as always i live for your work and I’m looking forward to reading more of your writing !!!

Heartslabyul boys proposing to their S/O

TW/CW: Gn!Reader, fluff, headcanons, not proofread

extra; AAA THANK U SM FR REQUESTING THIS i remember i got so excited when i first saw your request LMAO then iforgot aboutit and i just saw it again so im doing this at midnigh lolzieS. anyway THANK YOU??? youre too kind and generous with your feedback on my witing it means so much to me omg u sweet anon AAAA I hope u enjoy this piece!! <33

Riddle Rosehearts

He's losing his mind over it, panicking in every manner known to mankind. 'Are they gonna like this? Is it too extravagant, or too simple?' He's running around, asking everyone on their opinions of his idea. He wants to make sure it's perfect, and even though everyone from Ace to Trey gives him the green light, he somehow still doubts himself. I mean, it's not every day you get to propose to the love of your life.

In the end, he settles for something simple, proposing to you in private, preferably with his friends and yours surrounding him. He keeps his little speech short and sweet, but not directly to the point — he'd be damned if he messes up his own proposal due to how shy he is about it. He starts tearing up in the middle of it because he realises that in the middle of it, he really was willing to throw all his doubts about love out the window for his beloved; he was finally ready to make a commitment that he was sure he wouldn't regret, and one that would definitely be rewarding

Don't be surprised if he stutters or tries to beat around the bush; he promises he's prepared mentally but the words might just seem to fail to fall out of his mouth, let alone even form coherently in his head. It's just a mixture of nerves and excitement, because he knows that he'll never forgive himself if even the slightest thing goes wrong.

"I'd throw away all my issues just for you!"

Trey Clover

He too, is one to keep it simple! In terms of the overall proposal and privacy, that is. To him, proposing to you is something intimate and emotional, and he rather not have the public swooning over something he'd much prefer to share with you, and you only in private!

He keeps the preparations on the down low, mostly consulting Cater and Riddle for their opinions on his ideas. However, he does let Ace and Deuce chip in if they happen to hear of it, under the condition that they keep their mouths wired shut; because otherwise, he might just have to do it himself!

He tries to remain suave and smooth when it comes to proposing, but you can see the way he wears his heart on his sleeve, and how his extended hand is trembling ever so slightly. You can hear him sigh while he smiles to himself mid-sentence, blush creeping up his cheeks as he struggles to form a coherent sentence.

He does the classic 'propose on one knee' thing because really what else do you expect from this man. After he slips on the ring, you can feel the way his arms linger around your waist for just a little longer, giving the slightest of squeezes, before placing a chaste kiss on your nose.

"... this is kinda embarrassing, but would you?"

Cater Diamond

Initially, he'd wanted to propose in public — in a restaurant, cafe. However, he didn't want to put you on the spot and make you feel pressured to say yes. So that's why he decided on a private proposal in a room full of your friends and his, recording your reaction from corners of the room.

The way he goes about it is rather interesting — he brings about the idea of marriage mid-conversation, testing the water of sorts. Until suddenly, he pulls out a rose gold ring, the reflection of the diamond stud catching your attention from your peripheral vision.

He doesn't ramble, but reassures you of how much you mean to him, and how he's willing to throw anything out of the way for you while maintaining eye-contact. You've never seen him this serious and you can tell from the rush of words coming out that he's desperate for you to stay by his side; his fear of losing you.

So he's surprised when you say yes to him. You seriously are confident that you want to spend the rest of your life with him? He's never felt such a sense of self-worth before, that being himself is actually enough for someone. And he's even more excited that it's you.

He's quick to throw himself over you, burying his face in your neck while he smothers you in kisses, and you swear that you could feel a few tears trickle down your neck.

"Ahhh— I can't believe you really said yes.."

Ace Trappola

He'd prepared really hard prior to the actual proposal, even going to the extent of practising with Deuce to get his honest feedback. He'd memorised every word of what he was to say, but obviously with them, even when you put two and two together you'd still end up with a negative... anyway

All his preparations were thrown out the window the moment he realised what he was actually about to do, he says that 'keeping it casual would make it easier for him to get his feelings across' but really it's the nerves. Even you could tell from the way his voice trembled as he spoke.

You two would be relaxing on the couch until Ace decided that that moment would be the prime time to propose, even if you were busy doing work. You would think he was joking at first, but what first seemed like an immature prank soon became a full-fledged proclamation of his love for you and how much you meant to him.

He tries to brush it off as no big deal at the though of you rejecting him, but he also wasn't exactly caught off guard when you said yes; definitely surprised though. You could see the way his brain forgot to function properly, still busy processing whether or not you truly said yes.

He'd simply slip the ring onto your finger with jittery hands, nearly dropping the ring. To you, it may seem like he's just blanked out, but inside he's just letting your futures play out in his head like a tape.

"Hehe, the ring really fits your hand huh?"

Deuce Spade

He is literally tearing his hair out. bending over backwards to think of the perfect things to tell you. Was he sure that you'd want to spend your life with this clammy man? A jittery boy with a cringe bully backstory? Regardless, he does it anyway.

When it comes to the proposal, it's everything you'd expect; a run-of-the-mill, cheesy one, similar to Trey's! He proposes wherever you shared your first date, which is probably NRC tbh. He's soft, squishy and everything inbetween, and might even end up crying before you do.

When you say yes, he begins cheering himself, nearly forgetting to pass the ring to you. It's quite the adorable sight, but only for a man who'd just propose to his partner — otherwise it would be cringe. He becomes extra jittery, so excited that the slightest touch would set him exploding into oblivion. Bouncing up and down, hyping himself up and congratulating himself for doing well.

He throws himself onto you, smiling into your shoulder, imagining how the wedding reception would go. He's so glad you said yes because he was going to treat you like absolute fucking royalty brah.

"Are you sure you don't want to rethink it? I mean, it's me we're talking about.."

@rinnelovebot & @shiemori a few hours = the next day haha

#twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cacter diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #heartslabyul #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst fluff #twst headcanons #jarch4ever #jarchotp #whats a post that mentions march without the jarch tag

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capseycartwright · 2 years ago

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tagged by @constructiononsunset to do seven sentence sunday monday and by some miracle i actually have seven coherent sentences to share this week

Buck, frankly, felt quite bleary-eyed as he padded out of his building, squinting in confusion at Eddie who was waiting outside. Eddie was – well, as ever, Eddie was a vision, even when he was wearing a simple shirt and jeans combination, his dark green flannel worn open over a white t-shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbow. It was probably because he was like – embarrassingly – in love with Eddie, but Buck was pretty sure that Eddie could wear a bin-bag and he’d still find him disturbingly attractive.

Buck would never admit – aloud, at least – that he had definitely Googled, with some concern, whether it was possible to be too attracted to someone when he and Eddie first started dating, because at times, it felt as though he was going to burst out of his out body with excitement – and, well, horniness, but also heart horniness – whenever he looked at Eddie.

Eddie was just hot, man – Buck wasn’t ashamed of how attractive he found his boyfriend. Eddie’s new hairdo was, in all honesty, too much for Buck to handle: the whole short on the sides, long on top situation had been a revelation in the first few weeks of their relationship, and just as much of one now, Eddie’s hair blowing softly in the light breeze that had overtaken Los Angeles the last few days. Eddie was Buck’s every dream, and wish, and fantasy rolled into one – delicious – package and here he was, standing outside of Buck’s apartment block at a disturbingly early hour.

Disturbingly early for Buck, at least – Eddie was probably just finished the school run with Christopher.

“What are you doing here?” Buck couldn’t help but ask, shuffling down the front steps, acutely aware he was wearing sweatpants, sliders, and a t-shirt he’d gotten as a gag gift from Maddie that said ‘I’m the fun uncle’ on the front in migraine-inducing neon. He probably made for quite the sight if anyone was to walk by.

Eddie half rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Do I need an excuse to come and see you?”

everyone probably did this already but if u wanna @hattalove @clusterbuck @gayeddiaz @hoediaz @bibuddie @queerpanikkar @mellaithwen @buckactuallys

#in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #anyways sorry to be late but u can consider this a whole new seven sentence monday tag game if you want

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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

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🌗congrats on 800 followers!! could I have a blurb -angst prompt 24 please?

her maroon lipstick

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: sirius looked at everyone but you

word count: 1.1k

warnings: cheating, hinted wolfstar, blackinnon bc that deserves a warning, unrequited love, kissing, swearing, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, self doubt, insecurity, mentions of sex

a/n: if u couldnt tell inwas feeling mean today and isa told me to break her heart so: *que jazz hands*

you loved sirius black— maybe even adored the boy, but you knew you probably loved him a little bit too much. he loved you as well, he at-least told you he loved you, and you didn’t want to presume he was a liar. he had always looked at you, your looks, your body, your face but he never had truly seen you; your soul, your essence, you’re entire being.

he was always gazing at someone else entirely, you didn’t wanna know it, or see it, but you did. it didn’t matter who he was looking at but it definitely wasn’t you. wether it was his lycanthrope of a bestfriend, or the local gryffindor beater marlene fucking mckinnon, they weren’t you.

throughly the same frequent sentences were pushed into the back of your mind with the same coherent words, ‘it’s fine, they’re just hanging out.’ or ‘it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’ but those were simply just your excuses for him.

that night before a quidditch game you had been blown off, yet a-fucking-gain. you truly weren’t surprised, you expected his neglect. but the feeling of dejection truly lingered through every nerve in your bloodstream. you weren’t the number one in his life; you were a backup, a second option, or your personal least favourite.... just not enough.

because marlene, was more important. he had to go study with her— i mean since when does sirius fucking study? he simply doesn’t, he doesn’t study, and he doesn’t fucking care. but still reminding yourself, ‘it’s fine, they’re just going over stuff.’ i mean even james and peter had perceived something you were unaware of.

a day later, a gryffindor win— against slytherins of course, a significant calling for celebration. unconcerned you threw on a simple outfit, nothing too fancy, school was overrated as it is and a mini-league quidditch game certainly didn’t deserve a special outfit no matter how many times your friends detested to your statements. as soon as the game had ended, the raven-haired males eyes didn’t search for you rather a tall brunette with pearly white teeth and dark maroon lipstick.

sirius of course had his troublesome past, you knew of his family, and his sexual-run arounds that went to hogwarts. it wasn’t a shock to you, you had just denied yourself to be one of his easy people. but to your pure-promised heart, you didn’t just become one of them you became the one. not to love, but simply to fuck.

you were just company when nobody else could be, and even though you swore not too; you let yourself because you fell for him, or maybe it was his mask of flirty gestures and lingering kisses.

you made your way to the gryffindor tower, the hallways dead silent to the point where you could hear the drop of a pin or the swish of someone’s hair. the seventh years succeeding in performing a muffling charm that barred any supervisor from suspicion of a party.

as soon as the portrait whole swung at your mumble of the password you were met with immense clamour and uproar from all the celebrating students. the potent smell of marijuana and fire whisky hitting your nose, immediately scowling at the first whiff of the aroma.

couples had been scattered and sprawled across the deep-vermillion coloured couches. all noise drowned out by the deafening amount of rock music, picked by sirius no doubt.

you knew in the nook and crannies of your mind you should’ve scrabbled this together, it should of been suspected, or rather even bound to occur. but nobody should ever expect to see their boyfriend drunkenly making out with another woman, ever.

you didn’t want to cry, or look weak, i mean you felt ashamed. we’re you not good enough? we’re you had to him? did you not check up on him enough? but maybe it wasn’t on you— maybe it was on him.

maybe he was the one who fucked up— he didn’t treat you good enough. he didn’t spend enough time with you. all in that moment you felt— was the burning bitch of an emotion, rage. pure and simple rage.

you felt the thump and click in your feet as you belligerently marched over to the kissing bunch, his arms taking a harsh grip at her waist and the aroma of alcohol abundantly clear as you got closer.

you jabbed a few times on his shoulder, the rustled leather familiar underneath the pad of your pointer finger. the boy pulled away with a drunken-grimace, prepared to shout at anyone who had interrupted him until he saw it; your face filled with abundant anger.

oh shit— you had caught him right in the act.

“y/n, listen—“ the boy started before your eyebrows had creased in immense frustration and anger of his foolish excuses. choosing to ultimately speak first and think later.

“no, you listen sirius! you’ve treated me like absolute shit, like i’m the last fucking option in your palm— like i’m not your girlfriend that you have confided in, and kissed, and fucking slept with! i really don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t walk around acting like you own the place when you can’t get one damn thought straight. so you can’t come to me as a last option anymore, you can go stick your player bullshit right your own damn arse!” your voice was heaving in such anger of him, finally opting to pick yourself— not to be a second choice, not anymore.

after your monologue built over months and months of culpability for feeling like you couldn’t never be enough for him, and irritability that he had never truly cared was full forced in one speech cutting him off for good.

you quickly spun around the mahogany floor, striding directly out of the red and gold common room; you heard the quick pad of footsteps behind you whilst walking in the hallway, swivelling around again seeing your befuddled and tipsy ex-boyfriend try and catch up with your exasperated steps.

a deep shade of maroon smudged down the curvature of his lips and the planes of his olive-toned chin, yeah, fuck you sirius.

“now what the absolute fuck do you want now?” you whisper-shouted in the midst of the hallway, trying not to alert the attention of filch or professor mcgonagall.

“i love you, y/n, please—“ the boy attempted to plead in the midst of his sentence and deeply failing whilst slurring his words, the alcohol abstinently pining through his nervous system showcasing his bleary vision through his viewpoint; venturing for your forgiveness, but your decision had been made the moment he was caught locking lips with the gryffindor beater.

“tell me that when you’re sober.”

taglist: @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness

#sirius black x you #sirius black x daughter!reader #sirius black x gryffindor!reader #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x slytherin reader #sirius black x remus lupin #sirius black x oc #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

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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 !!

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

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.

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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.”

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taglist: @thepandapopo @sinclairsamess

#lavender latte #salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x y/n #hawks fluff #hawks fanfiction #this is a transition chapter shhh y'all are getting spoiled the next few chapters #enjoy a lil preview of the sweetness :'^)#hawks mha #takami keigo

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pi-cat000 · 4 years ago

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MSA: Take Back The Future (part 3)

Summary: Vivi and Arthur travel back in time to the beginning of Hellbent. Neither of them are okay.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Mystery, instead of answering Vivi’s questions, leaps over the seat dividing the front and back areas of the van, exiting out the back doors.

“Wait, ” Vivi yells after Mystery, “get to back here and explain what happened to my memories.”

/It is not a tale that can be simply told. Not right now when we may be in danger/

Arthur thinks kitsune turned dog sounds slightly strained but it’s hard to really tell with Mystery’s weird telepathy. When the meaning of words are projected right into your brain some of the nuance is lost.

“Who is Shiromori? Why is she attacking us?” Vivi tries, following to glare at Mystery who circles the van, barely paying attention to the two of them. “Just answer one question!”

His mechanical arm twitches of its own accord and he eyes it nervously. To hell with it. Arthur frees his hand and begins to feel about for the quick release lever hidden under a panel on his upper arm. After the van crash and almost getting thrown to his death, the arm had been too banged up to safely remove, jamming in place. Best to be rid of it now, before everything when to shit all over again.

The sound of his heavy metal arm hitting the ashfelt draws Vivi’s attention and she turns to give him a quizzical expression.

“Better off then on,” He explains, “Wasn’t really working that well anyway. Hopefully, that’ll get rid of the curse as well.” Honestly, this cruse is the least of his worries.

Vivi exhales and Arthur can see the stress pinching her mouth, pulling it down into an uncharacteristic frown, “If the curse is specifically attached to your arm then removing it might work. On the other hand, if it’s anything like the one that got my memories then who the hell knows what will work. I certainly don’t. Apparently, I don’t know a lot of things.”

The last sentence is louder, directed at Mystery. There is no response from the dog who is staring off into the middle distance, head to one side like he is listening intently for something. Arthur offers Vivj an uneasy shrug. He has his own questions for Mystery regarding Vivi’s memories, his arm, and the night they both went missing. However, his most recent run-in with dead-Lewis has him quickly reordering his priorities. None of the answers are going to mean much if he’s dead. Again…

Speaking of which… On the horizon, a purple light flares, glowing brightly against the dark backdrop. Arthur’s mouth goes suddenly dry and limbs feel very cold. Yeah, that seamed about right…

/You called this spirit Lewis?/ Mystery turns his head to examine him, expression troubled. /Are you sure?/

He gives a short nod, eyes darting from Mystery then back to the road. It looks like Mystery is planning something based on how his fur is glowing red. He’d seen a similar red glow on the night of Lewis’s disappearance and during the confrontation outside his Uncle’s workshop. How much did Mystery know about Lewis? The question sticks in his mind, painfully heavy.

“Lewis? You mean the purple fire ghost? The one that caused the van crash?” Vivi steps up next to him, eyes locked onto the truck which grows quickly larger, “How are we going to stop it from running us all over?”

It’s too late to try a drive or run away now. Even if he decides to run there is a steep rocky slope on one side and a sharp climb on the other. If he did make it down by some miracle there was just flat desert and no cover for miles. Arthur doesn’t voice this observation instead commenting in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “I don’t think you need to worry about the ghost running you over. I’m pretty sure he’s only after me. So…ah…maybe don’t stand near me?”

Why? Why was Lewis trying to hurt him? In his mind’s eye, Lewis and Mystery meld together into a nightmare inferno of fire, teeth and death.

“I don’t want you to get run over either.” Vivi’s voice sounds faint, coming to him like it has travelled a great distance. Too much fear packed into too short a timeframe is making it harder and harder to concentrate. The ice at her feet thickens into long sheets, which creep out over the road, freezing it solid. He is probably lucky his remaining arm hasn’t frozen off with how tight Vivi had been holding it. Maybe if he turns into a giant Arthur icicle and he can sit this whole thing out. The hysterical thought momentarily breaks through his mounting panic.

/Wait./

Arthur can almost hear the crackle of fire and the hum of the truck's engine.

/ You should not be drawing on so much of this power at once! You’ll damage the seal further!/

“I’m not letting Arthur die again. Anything comes near us and I’ll make whoever it is, regret it… that includes you.”

Vivi steps out so she is positioned in the centre of the road.

/I can handle this confrontation. There are still many aspects to the situation that you remain unaware of./

“And how am I supposed to fix that if you won’t tell me anything.”

/ I swear I will explain when there is more time. I only ever wanted to protect you./

“I don’t believe you.”

Vivi snaps the final sentence and punctuates it with a sharp hand gesture aimed at the oncoming truck. Several lines of ice stretch out and down the road, racing away from Vivi to meet the oncoming vehicle. Shining an ethereal blue, the frost coats the road’s surface, smoothing it over. Arthur catches the briefest glimpse of skeletal Lewis before the truck hits the ice sheets and the wheels suddenly lose traction. The sound of metal crunching is deafening, accompanied by the hiss of water abruptly vaporising. Heat and cold collide in a cacophony cracking ice and explosion of steam.

A flash of bright purple fire. Mystery disappears, obscured by the thick columns of steam. He finds himself being yanked to the side by Vivi just in time to watch the purple truck careen past in a shower of sparks and groaning metal. At such high speeds, it rams straight into and through the guardrails separating the road from the rocky slope. Stunned, Arthur watches it disappear over the edge. If Lewis hadn’t already been dead then Arthur might have been worried. The sound of banging and crashing, as the truck presumably roles several times, has him physically wincing. Scratch that, he was worried. Very worried. Worried enough that it overtakes his mental panic and replaces it with deep concern. How durable were ghosts? He doesn’t know and that scares him.

“Vivi! What the hell,” He finally manages to spit out, breaking his panic-induced stupor. He tries to rush past her, intent on checking for any signs of Lewis. He promptly slips. The combination of ice and his lack of a second arm throws off his balance and he ends up falling backward. He is saved from a collision with the ground by Vivi who seemed to now have supernatural levels of balance and was unaffected by the slippery surface.

“I …wow. That was… something.” Vivi breaths, examining the road still covered in planes of ice as if not quite believing it.

“Help me to the edge,” He interrupts, trying and failing to stand straight collapsing back on her, “I need to see if he’s okay,”

“Who’s okay? The ghost?"

“Yes.”

"You want to see if the ghost is okay? You said it was trying to hurt you?”

Arthur can practically see the concern and confusion now hanging over Vivi as she looks down from where she's holding him up by his one good arm.

“It’s just…a misunderstanding or something. I…we…might know this ghost.”

“What?”

“Just help me check.” He motions with his remaining arm. Visible through the plums of steam are thicker lines of darkened smoke coming from the space where the truck had disappeared.

....

Note: I’m Sorry to everyone who’s showed interest in this AU but i’m not sure if i’ll continue this since i’ve lost motivation. Here are some of the more coherent plot notes if people are interested in this AU. Feel free to ask questions if u have any :) .

...

- Shiromori shows up directly after Lewis’s crash, distracting Mystery. With all the steam obscuring their vision Arthur and Vivi don’t realise that Shiromori has arrived immediately, and there is enough time to briefly look for Lewis.

- Lewis makes it out of the truck crash only slightly worse for wear and tries to attack Arthur. Vivi moves to defend Arthur, then Arthur has to defend Lewis and it’s all very awkward for everyone.

- Lewis sees how scared Arthur is a reconsiders his revenge plot, hesitating long enough to get some dialogue in.

- Arthur finally gives Vivi a brief Lewis overview (sans the whole ‘he almost threw me off a fake cliff thing’). Vivi is suspicious and somewhat unconvinced. Lewis is slightly confused when Vivi starts referring to the alternate time line.

- Not time for further discussion because Mystery is fighting Shiromori and, since he had warning this time, he’s winning.

(fight scene stuff. Vivi rushes in to do something idk this part is not planned.)

Vivi overused ice abilities.

Lewis and Arthur have a moment alone.

Vivi, slightly untrusting of Mystery, ends up stepping to stop the two from fighting. (Vivi ends up saving Shiromori maybe??? a parallel to the original timeline). A dramatic moment where Vivi rushes in ( maybe takes a blow for Shiromori idk would depend on Shiromori’s backstory) and ends up injured.

- ??? makes an appearance, takes over Vivi instead of Mystery.

Some background world building stuff

- Vivi’s ice powers might become unsealed and she is vulnerable to ??? (spiritual energy is damaging to humans if too much is used at once or if is not used correctly)

- Yukino family are spiritual channels making them both more powerful and more vulnerable. Mystery holds a seal to the ability and it eats up a tails worth of power to maintain. Same deal with Shiromori, Mystery holds a seal to keep her fully realised abilities in check which also eats up a lot of power.

- The seal is damaged when Mystery is hurt

- Arthur is unaffected by the ice because he’s got some odd time based supernatural power which has bonded to vivi spiritual signtaure as well. This is the reason ??? want to possess Arthur. One possible resolution was for Arthur to figure out how to rewind time to the seconds before Vivi gets possessed, giving her a chance to defeat ???. It takes a lot of power which Lewis ends up giving to him.

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #msa fanfic #Vivi Yukino #arthur kingsmen #Mystery the dog #Vivi and Arthur friendship #angst #lewis arrives then imedetly exits stage left #paniced arthur #time travel au

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blissfulsun · 4 years ago

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Hello lovelies!! This one is not a request, I wrote it last night, too sleep deprived and hangry cause fasting. It’s probably my closest attempt at angst so far & it’s like 1.2K words lol, let me know what u think and enjoy angels!!💓��

word count: 1,245

Will they, won’t they // Jeff Wittek

You are trying to make sense of Nat's drunk giggles and the rambling story of another stunt Todd recently pulled in his attempts to win her over when the two of you are interrupted in your little bubble by David.

'Y/n I think Jeff is looking for you' his eyes sending a pointed message to his assistant as you remain oblivious to their scheming.

Your brow involuntarily furrows, 'oh..-' Natalie interrupts your train of thought, 'He was heading outside to the garden last time I saw him.' Her hands already on your shoulders, pushing in that general direction.

Everyone is acting weird, you think to yourself. Well, weirder than normal.

Outside there are only few people milling about, tonight a more intimate setting with just the selected few other than the squad itself. Which is exactly why you happen to find Jeff in your eye line all too quickly.

Except he doesn't appear to be looking for you, judging by how busy he looks with his mouth attached to that of a petite blonde.

You don't stop and try to figure out who it might be or if you know the girl at all.

The next steps taken are calculated, each action planned yet robotic as you step back inside and head for Nat's room to grab your stuff and go.

That's how David finds you, hands diligently checking coat pockets for car keys and phone, 'Y/n! Did you find the man of the hour?' he doesn't seem to catch onto your dampened mood fast enough.

‘I did. It was...unnecessary and painful for me so thanks, I'm going to head out now' you ignore the stuttering confusion of your friend, waving off both the boy and the camera in his hand as you pass by.

'What?! Why?' he follows in your footsteps, more puzzled than ever at your dishevled state. 'I'm just tired Dave, it's been a long day and work is kind of kicking my ass. I'll see you tomorrow yeah?' the declaration is followed by a quick hug around his shoulders and then you're gone.

Jeff's eventful night is interrupted by Natalie, who strides up to him in her tipsy state. Anger evident in her expression, 'What did you do?' he's momentarily stumped.

'We gave you the perfect opportunity with Y/n tonight. Relaxed setting, only your guys' mutual friends around. She looked really fucking good in that new skirt Corinna forced her into-'

Jeff interrupts her rambling. 'What is going on?' frustration is evident on the girl's face, for a second, he thinks she might lunge at him.

‘Everyone is sick and tired of this will they, won't they the two of you have going on. Dancing around your feelings at your big age Jeff, seriously? We...Dave thought you might do something about it tonight after you practically sabotaged her date last week.'

He's flustered at the accusation, or rather, the truth behind it. He may have pretended to have lost his keys within minutes of Y/n leaving for her date while he took Nerf on a walk.

The girl with a heart far too big for her chest and obvious weakness for his dog abandoning previous plans in order to pick them up in her car to spend the night.

'I...' he begins with a stutter, shoulders falling in defeat. 'I messed up Nat.' she only snorts. 'You think? She's gone home by the way' Natalie continues at the sight of his expression, 'ran out of here making up some lies about being tired or something, probably just getting there as we speak-'

Jeff is tapping her on the shoulder and is out the door by the time the brunette is done with her explanation. 'Go get her baby!!'' Scott is the last of his friends to get some words of encouragement in as the door slams behind him.

Jeff doesn't want to know how many laws he just broke on his way over, his driving borderline dangerous on just a regular day.

All that matters is that he's at her door, knocking a little erratic as he waits.

For a fleeting moment, he remembers the other girl who offered to take his mind off the one who's on the other side of this very wall, his mind in a war with itself over his thoughtless agreement in the spur of the moment.

You weren't sure who you had expected at the door when the knocking snapped you out of the pity party that's been happening since the moment you got in your car back at David's, but Jeff wasn't at the top of that speculative list.

Your brows furrow, 'Jeff? wha-' he had to interrupt, 'can I stay the night?' his request stumping the both of you.

He wasn't sure why that happened to be the first sentence out his mouth, but in his defence, his thoughts were scrambled, those five words the most coherent and quickest to form within the short while of staring at your bare face illuminated by the hallway lighting.

The sigh of defeat which leaves your mouth makes him perk up embarrassingly fast. He resembles a puppy in that moment, you think, scolding yourself for the soft assessment when you're trying to stay mad at him.

Then you remember, it's not your place. Jeff hadn't done anything wrong, I mean, you agreed to a date with the first guy to continuously bug you about it just the other night.

By the time that train of thought it completed, you're already in your bedroom, Jeff following silently behind.

You watch him strip off his shirt and grab a pair of more comfortable bottoms he's left here during one of your endless sleepovers. It's still quiet when he slips underneath the cover on his self-proclaimed side of the bed.

The air is charged as you roll onto your side and try to fall asleep, avoidance your preferred method for tonight.

It's probably half the reason you're in this mess, you muse to yourself: you avoid your feelings as they rattle in your rib cage and bruise the soft tissue, always ignoring any possible signs of your emotions being reciprocated.

God forbid you'd look Jeff in the eye right now, even though the man is literally shirtless & sprawled out in your bed, hands hesitantly gripping at your hips to bring you into his arms for the night.

Jeff, on the other hand, is tired of avoiding ,he decides. 'Angel?' your humm is the only acknowledgement heard in the dark of the covers.

'Can I....can I stay the night tomorrow-' he confuses you like no one ever before and so you interrupt 'what?'.

He continues, 'And the day after that...& whatever day of the week it's going to be after that too.' He's determined, Natalie's earlier words vivid in his mind.

Jeff moves to hover his face over yours comfortably sank in the pillows. 'What are you saying?' the words are shaky leaving your lips.

'That I'll stay. If you will have me' You only hesitate for a split second, head of blonde hair flashing before your eyes before Jeff is all that you see again.

Tunnel vision dictates your movement aimed to diminish whatever space is left between you and the person who's been haunting your dreams, asleep and awake in daydreams for the last year.

‘Okay, stay...' it's a whisper of two simple words but it feels like a promise between you. Jeff plans to keep it.

#jeff wittek fanfiction #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek #even my angst turns to fluff lowkey #maybe im just built soft lol

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satoruvt · 5 years ago

Text

the color of you - white (5)

ik keigo’s like a hero n he has his hero costume on all the time but for this chapter (for no particular reason) imagine him in light jeans and a black t-shirt ok thank u i hope thinking of that makes u as happy as it does me

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 2368

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → converse high by bts, somebody loves you by jeremy zucker, and some of can’t we just leave this monster alive? by tomorrow x together

this chapter → compromising positions, a flour war, a Moment, y/n realizes some things and keigo’s a little shit

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

The sun has never been your friend in the mornings, and you’re reminded of that fact every single time you wake up. For someone who doesn’t like getting blinded first thing in the morning, you sure were bold to put your bed right next to the window, knowing full well the first few hours of sunlight shone directly onto your pillows.

Your brain wakes up before your body does, a few lingering thoughts from your dream swimming in your head in fragmented colors and sentences, and once you’re more coherent you open your eyes, flutter at the sunlight - wait, this isn’t your bed.

There’s sun nearby, sure, but the window’s too distant. Your vision’s a little blurry from sleep but you think you know your colors pretty well and these sheets do not match the ones you picked out from Target, like, two years ago. And then you remember, oh, awards ceremony. Hotel. Suite. Okay.

You move to stretch, manage to get your arms above your head, but even when you move the arm around your waist stays put. For a second you think holy shit, I’m paralyzed, but then you realize that you don’t have three arms. And then you realize that the arm around your waist belongs to Keigo, who’s still in your bed.

For the first time this morning your brain catches up on time with the sudden thought of “he’s not your actual boyfriend, what is this” but when you turn your head to wake up him with a flick on his forehead you stop.

You’re a fan of him. It’s not hard for you to admit - it’s just an add-on, at this point, because Keigo is definitely more of a friend than an idol to you. You’re a fan, no less, you’ve dabbled in buying cute keychains and pens stylized with colors that he wore often. That’s why, you reason with yourself, you’re suddenly very aware of how gorgeous he is.

The sunlight isn’t on either of you, but it casts a gentle, warm glow into the hotel room through the break in the curtains and it dresses Keigo beautifully, subtly. Makes his skin look sunkissed and golden. His hair’s a mess, wild and sticking in every direction, but somehow it’s fitting for him. You can’t stop your eyes from tracing over his face, taking in his proportions and then dropping to his lips, and you keep your eyes trained on him as you turn so you’re on your side, facing him. You think about it for a moment, stopping your already-raising hand, then tell yourself that in the times he’s fallen asleep while you two were hanging out, he’s never woken up, so he won’t now.

You get one push of your fingers through his hair - as soft as you can - and when you refocus on Keigo’s face he is definitely awake. You freeze, absolutely mortified, while he only raises an eyebrow at you. He doesn’t move his arm from around your waist.

“Morning, sunshine,” and oh God, that’s what his morning voice sounds like? “Is this your way of telling me you’re actually into me?”

Heat flushes to your cheeks and you take your hand away, laughing nervously and way too loud for the morning. You try to think of anything to say that’s better than “sorry, I couldn’t help myself, you just looked so good” but nothing comes to mind and you stay looking down as best you can.

“Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” Keigo says, and you realize you said it out loud, God fucking - “Hmm, I don’t know. Sounds like you’re harboring secret feelings for me, sweetheart.”

You fight a losing battle against a smile and roll your eyes playfully, shoving Keigo away from you as he barks out a laugh. “Get out of my room, you’re not allowed in here anymore.”

Keigo doesn’t give his usual protests outside of a smothered “nooo” into the pillows after you get out of bed - how cute, you think to yourself - and gather your toiletries and clothes so you can shower. You yell an “out!” for good measure before you shut the bathroom door, waiting for a moment until you hear the door to his room shut.

Your shower is quick, making use of the high-end hotel body wash, and you half expect Keigo to still be in the bed when you walk out of the bathroom. You dry your hair with a towel and your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You unlock it to see a text.

keigo baby 🐦

Can i come back yet i miss you

You snort at his text, send back a “get in here, bird boy” but then realize it’s almost nine thirty and you need to get to the bakery. Keigo walks in and you rush to find your usual sneakers. When you finally look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed and tying your shoes, he’s got an eyebrow raised.

“In a rush?” He asks, and you send him a playful glare, but you’re already too late to think about banter.

“Yeah, I gotta get to the bakery,” you tell him, finalizing the knot on your shoe. You only brought a small bag with your things, and it doesn’t take long for you to gather them up. You take a quick glance around the room to make sure nothing’s forgotten, finding nothing that looks like it’s yours.

(Your eyes land on your dress from the night before, and you aim a look at Keigo that says “what should I do with that” and he tells you he’ll take care of it.)

“Okay,” you breathe, looking at Keigo. You feel the urge to kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ve got nothing to do until, like, noon. Do you mind if I see you to the bakery?”

You murmur an “of course not” with a smile and the two of you are off.

It’s a short trip - you take the subway to a station that’s only a few blocks from the bakery and walk the rest of the way. At one point Keigo slips his hand into yours, intertwines your fingers, and despite this now being a whole two-month (or something) endeavor it makes you choke just a little bit at how casual he is about it.

“Text me if you need anything,” you tell Keigo when the two of you reach the bakery, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to call my fake baker girlfriend when I’m in a pinch with a villain,” he says, and you pout at him, pushing on his shoulder. He laughs, kisses you, murmurs “I’ll see you later” against your lips before leaving with a wink and a gust into the sky.

You open the door to the bakery and it’s only when you finally get to working fifteen minutes later that you’re sure you hadn’t seen any paparazzi around.

Keigo comes back about ten minutes after closing, when you’re in the dining area and setting chairs on top of tables. You’d given the employees working today the go-ahead to leave, since the last hour of business consisted of a couple coming in to ask for directions. The bell above the door rings and you turn your head, meeting Keigo’s eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, mock surprise in your voice as you fold your arms over your chest and walk closer to him. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah, I’ve been craving your signature donuts for a while now,” Keigo replies, sending you a playful grin. “Think you could whip some up for me? I’ll even pay extra.”

“Sorry, hero, but we’re already closed.”

Keigo gapes at you and you snort before walking behind the counter to take the food out of the display case. “Come on, not even for your favorite hero? Your idol? Your boyfriend?”

You pretend to think about it for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. “Hmm, I suppose I could make a quick batch…” you stare directly at him, point at him assertively. “But you’re helping.”

Keigo seems less than excited to do so, shoulders deflating at your words, but he walks behind the counter and into the kitchen after you without a complaint. In the back of your mind, you know you shouldn’t be wasting ingredients like this, but at the same time business has been really booming - you can afford to buy more.

It’s fun, baking with Keigo. Even if he’s not keen on working and you definitely don’t trust him to measure liquids, he seems… eager to please. You tell him to mix and he does, to crack an egg and he does. The entire time he’s making jokes (some of them… really poor, painful dad jokes) and there’s a warmth in your heart.

Keigo pours out flour into a sifter over the large mixing bowl you have set up, but instead of batting the sifter against his hand like a normal person, he holds it like a pan and he’s sauteing something. You frown, taking the sifter from his hand (as gently as you can without spilling). “You’re doing it wrong,” you say.

“What, there’s a right way to…” Keigo pauses, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Sift?”

“Yeah, that - there’s a right way to sift something? Does it really matter?”

“...no,” you start, then furrow your brows. “But it’ll make a mess.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna have to clean up when we’re done anyways.”

An idea crosses your mind and you know, whole-heartedly, that it is probably your worst idea of the day for multiple reasons. But the knowledge of its consequences still doesn’t stop you from reaching into the sifter, grabbing a little less than a handful of flour, and spritzing it on Keigo’s chest.

“You’re just gonna take a shower when you get home, right?” You say, innocent as can be. You take another not-handful and rub it on his shirt. “A mess doesn’t matter.”

You look up at Keigo and his gaze says something like “this shirt was ten thousand yen” before he grabs his own handful of flour - not from the bowl or the sifter, but rather from the twenty-pound bag you opened specifically for him. He throws it at you and it lands in a puff in your hair, dusting you in white.

An unspoken agreement is passed between the two of you when you meet his gaze again - this is war.

In three seconds flat both of you are grabbing anything you can - flour, sugar, anything - and using them as weapons, throwing them in the general direction of the other. It’s gonna be a pain getting it out of your clothes, but you find you don’t really care. Milk is thrown from a measuring cup over your shoulder, lands on the floor with a splash mixed with your alarmed yelp. A single egg yolk hits Keigo in the chest, breaking like a water balloon on impact. Music you barely remember starting before the two of you got to baking plays like a soundtrack in a movie.

The Baking War of 2020 is short, though, and soon enough you both are panting and laughing as you stand in the kitchen covered in baking supplies. “Truce?” you pitch, wiping what you think is baking powder off of your eyelashes.

“Hold on,” Keigo says. He grabs an egg from the open carton on the counter, steps so the two of you are almost chest-to-chest. Your smile fades because oh, he’s really close, what is he doing?

He cracks the egg over your head. That’s what he’s doing.

You close your eyes, sigh, try to forget about your momentary panic as you feel the egg coat your hair. The yolk breaks somewhere between the top of your head and your eyebrow and you close one eye in hopes it won’t drip into it. “Truce,” Keigo grins.

“I hope you know that you helped waste my ingredients and you didn’t even get your donuts,” you mumble, pouting up at him. Keigo’s grin grows fond as he shrugs, uses his thumb to rub most of the yolk off of your forehead. You find yourself wishing that someone with a camera was around so you have an excuse to kiss him.

“I’m rich, I can buy you more,” he says, and you really cannot stop looking at his lips.

It’s like last night - a part of you wants to shrug your heart pounding off as Keigo just looking good in all black and expensive rings, because anyone could tell he was easily the most beautiful person at the ceremony, but your heart is pounding just as hard - if not harder - right now and he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It startles you, makes nervous butterflies erupt in your chest and stomach and blood rush to your cheeks, because you’re pretty sure this is -

Keigo’s phone rings and it makes both of you jump; you end up a solid three feet away from where you were before. It’s really hot in here, is it hot? It’s definitely hot. You need to turn off the heater.

“Shit,” Keigo curses to himself, and when you look at him he’s doing his best to brush off flour and sugar from his clothes with a rag. “There’s a villain downtown. I gotta go.”

You nod immediately, understanding, but you don’t trust your voice to speak that much. You swallow - gulp, really - and hope he doesn’t notice how jumpy you are. “Be safe,” you say, and cringe at how small your voice sounds.

“I’ll text you later,” is all Keigo tells you before he’s leaving through the back door of the bakery. You hear his wings as he takes off.

You don’t move for a moment, instead choosing to slump against the counter. Usually when you started liking someone, it was gradual, it wasn’t surprising or - or like this, you knew and it was fine, regardless of outcome. This didn’t happen to you.

You sigh, close your eyes and try not to freak out too much about the very sudden and very scary realization that you like Keigo.

#IM SO SORRY ITS LATE KAJHDSKFJH #anyways i hope u like it i thought it was very cute <3 <3 #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha hawks x reader #hawks bnha x reader #keigo takami imagine #tcoy #the color of you #x reader #reader insert

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hvitserkmarcosource · 5 years ago

Text

Just you

(Alex Høgh Andersen x Marco Ilsø x Reader)

Warnings: 18+, Smutt, threesome, swearing, blowjob, oral (female receiving) , fingering, unprotected sex, and probably too many cute Alex and Marco feels!

Well I did it, I spent so much time on this request by @alexhogh7137 I hope you like it dear!

Word count: 2,569

I hope everyone enjoys! Leave a like and let me know your thoughts and if you would like to request something. 🥰

............................................................................

It was a normal Friday night hanging out with the guys, Marco decided on what bar to go to and you and Alex just tagged along. It didn’t matter where you went just as long as the three of you were together.

But this particular bar was a little too “rundown” and Alex was having a go at Marco about it. “How do you even know about this place!?” He yelled playfully, punching Marco’s shoulder. “This place is shit”

“You’re shit” Marco yelled back, not so playful, and you could tell his pride was hurt. So you decide to make light of the situation and place your arms through both of theirs, linking the three of you together “you’re both shit,” you giggle “now which one of you is going to buy me a drink?”

Marco chuckles and says “Bartender, a drink for our lady friend please.”

Alex burst out in laughter “She’s no lady- hey hey I was kidding” he throws his arms up in defense when you shoot him a death glare. “You better be Andersen, I am a lady” you huff out, turning away from him, over dramatically, making sure your hair goes into his face.

You gasp when he catches your wrist in his hand, stopping your movement and catching you off guard. You stumble into his chest when he pulls you closer to him. Breathless would be an understatement as to how you are feeling... Cardiac arrest might be more accurate. You almost collapse when he whispers in your ear “You wouldn’t be so lady-like with your legs wrapped around my hips, screaming my name as you cum.”

He lets you go after that and it takes you a minute to process what the hell just happened. Alex is your best friend, there is no way he is interested in you like that… right? Honestly it’s not like you’d say no to him, he’s gorgeous and fun, he makes you smile when you're sad, and keeps you company when you're lonely. But then again you could say the same thing for Marco.

Shaking your head and taking a deep breath you take a seat at the bar, Marco joining you seconds later and wrapping an arm around your shoulder “You ok?” He asks. Probably noticing how red your face is, and how shaky your hands are. You nod “I’m ok, just need a drink. A strong drink.” There is no way you’d tell Marco what just happened it would be too awkward. And that is the last thing you wanted.

Alex was probably just messing around, you were probably supposed to laugh at him, or make a snide remark. You are definitely taking this too seriously.

“Alex was right” Marco says rubbing his face “this bar is shit” you rest your head on his shoulder “it’s not so bad, don’t be too hard on yourself” he points towards the floor under your barstool and says “there’s a rat by your feet-“

You don’t even give him the chance to finish his sentence before you’re jumping out of your seat and onto his lap, screaming the entire way, and holding onto him for dear life. Once you're calmed down the both of you start to laugh. ”can we leave like now please” you beg and he nods, yelling for Alex who is nowhere to be found.

............................................................................

Back at Alex’s apartment, you decide to make yourself more comfortable. The shoes you 're wearing are starting to kill. And the dress is too short to be lounging on the sofa. ”I’m stealing your clothes!” You yell, already in his bedroom and locking the door. After what happened tonight you aren’t taking any chances of an “accidental” walk in.

Settling for a black T-shirt and a pair of your joggers, that you must have left here? “I’ve been looking for these” you make your way back into the living room. Only to find Marco and Alex glaring at each other like it’s an episode of Vikings. What is with these guys lately?

And then they are both staring at you “What?!” You ask

“Alex thinks I was flirting with you because you sat on my lap, I told him there was a rat but he doesn't believe me.”

“I don’t believe you because you are lying!” Alex yells back “I see the way you look at her, you are not fooling anyone.”

Their accents are starting to get jumbled and you know soon enough they’ll be arguing in Danish. And once that happens there will be no stopping it. So you do something that you’ll quite possibly regret. “Why dont you both shut up and fuck me then?!”

That gets their attention, their both staring at you like two deer caught in headlights. After you yelled it you start to think maybe you had one too many drinks.

“A-are you,” Alex clears his throat “are you serious right now?”

You shrug, not saying anything. Waiting for Marco to speak first. The only word that comes out of his mouth is your name.

You take a deep breath and say “Listen, I love you both, you’re my best friends and I don’t want to lose either of you. That being said, there has been way too much tension between us lately, and I’m not just talking about tonight. You two have been treating me differently for a while, I just didn’t want to say anything.” You step closer to them, but not close enough to touch. “Not bad tension per se… just different, like if I don’t have you now I’ll explode.”

............................................................................

You’re not sure who made the first move. But now that all three of you are sitting on Alex’s bed you know one thing for certain: They both equally want you. And with the way Marco is pulling up your shirt and Alex is tugging down your pants, you know you’ll be reduced to a puddle of want and need in a matter of seconds. All matter of coherent thought now completely gone. You were going to have sex with your best friends and you couldn’t care less about the consequences.

Once your shirt is off Marco lays down on the bed, spreads his legs and pulls you down onto him. Your back against his strong chest. “Lift your hips for me baby girl.” Alex says softly. And you do, oh god you do. His fingers dance along the waistband of your panties before he slides them down your legs.

Marco gently grabs your chin and tilts your face up to look at him “Are you sure about this?” You nod and pull him down into a heated kiss. One that quickly makes your head spin. His hands come up to squeeze your breasts and you moan into his mouth.

Soft lips kiss up your legs, and you smile at the feeling. Alex is being sweet, something you didn’t think he’d be during sex. He’s always so tough, you didn’t expect him to be gentle with you. When he gets to the inside of your thighs you moan again. Breaking away from the kiss you look down at the gorgeous man between your legs and smile, nudging his head a little bit with your knee. Which earns you a bite to your soft skin.

You can feel Marco chuckle behind you when he sees what you did. And honestly it feels good that the three of you can still joke with each other even in a moment like this.

“Knee me in the head again brat and I won’t let you cum.” Alex says, half teasing half serious.

“I’ll still let you come” Marco whispers so only you can hear him.

There’s no time to reply because the words in your brain are replaced with a gasp when you feel Alex’s mouth on your heat. His lips kissing your sensitive folds before his tongue delves in. slowly licking from your core to your clit and back again. In no time you're a slobbering mess, trying so hard to contain yourself and hold off for a little while longer.

That is until Alex’s tongue dips into your core. You can’t help the squeak that escapes from your lips, your knees almost give way, but Marco holds them up. And captures your lips in another kiss. Swallowing your moans. You can feel him throbbing in the small of your back, his cock aching to be buried inside of you. And right now you want that so badly. “Marco” you whine his name “p-please”

He groans and his hips push up into you “hurry up brother, I can’t wait much longer”

That’s when all of your prayers were answered, Alex buries two thick fingers into your core and sets a fast pace. The sound would be obscene if it didn’t feel so good “so wet baby, who made you this wet hmm?” You can’t answer, your mind a complete puddle of mush. “Come tell me who made you this wet? Who’s making you feel so good?”

“Y-youu Alex you-u-“

“That’s right” he moans out “that’s my girl, cum now, come on baby.”

And you do, oh you do. Your vision blurs and you all but scream as your orgasm takes over you. Alex’s fingers still pumping in and out, working you for all you’ve got. When you start to wiggle away from him he stops and climbs on top of you, kisses your lips sweetly and says “it’s our turn now baby”

And that sends a shiver up your spine. It’s actually going to happen… and you couldn’t be more excited.

Alex grabs your hands and pulls you up onto your knees, wraps his arms around the small of your back and pulls you into a lingering kiss. It’s calm, not dominating, or rushed. It feels like you’ve been waiting your entire life for a kiss like this. And maybe you have.

You let your tongues explore each other’s mouths and and you can’t help but to be turned on again, already feeling new wetness pull between your legs and new heat build in your belly. Alex is the first to break the kiss “Who do you want where baby?”

Your head spins at the question but you already know the answer “You Alex, I want you inside of me.” Your hands smooth up his chest and once there on his shoulders you wrap your arms loosely around his neck.

He smiles at that, a small smile but you catch it nonetheless. He kisses your forehead and then says “ok, ok”

Gently you’re moved onto all fours, Marco’s cock level with your lips. He’s bigger than you would have imagined and you can help but take a long slow lick before either of them enter you. Marco moans and grabs your hair “that’s it fuck” he says as you take him into your mouth all the way. Moaning as he hits the back of your throat.

Alex’s hands grab your hips and he pulls you closer to him. The tip of his cock running through your folds, your core clenching out of anticipation. “You ready for me baby?” You moan in response, making Marco shove his cock further into your mouth. You release him for a moment just to look back at Alex. You had to see him, just simply had to see him push into you. “I’m ready” you answer fully.

Slowly Alex pushes into you, so slow that you can feel every inch of him stretch you deliciously. You both moan at the feeling, Alex’s brows scrunch in concentration. Trying to be good for you. Wanting to make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.

Once you adjust to him Alex starts moving faster, setting a pace that’s so good you shudder, and whine like a whore.

Snapping you out of the moment, Marco bends down to kiss you. It’s quick and just to get your attention back on his cock, but you don’t mind.

You wrap your lips around him and swirl your tongue around the head, sucking lightly just to tease. “Keep doing that and I won’t last much longer” he says breathlessly and then you take him deeper. Allowing him to set his own pace and thrust into your throat.

Alex’s thrusts hit that special place inside of you and you moan so hard around Marco’s cock that he starts throbbing in your mouth. “Do that again” he groans, his hand in your hair gripping tighter, his hips snapping harder. You thought he was talking to you, telling you to moan around him again. Until Alex hits that spot inside of you and Marco cums, hard.

You swallow every drop, like the good girl you are and he falls back onto the bed. “Holy shit” he says with a chuckle “that was so fucking sexy”

“Get off the bed Marco” Alex says quickly “I’m gonna fuck her so good she won’t be able to walk tomorrow”

You squeal when Alex’s flips you over. You spread your legs for him and he smirks “I told you you wouldn’t be so lady-like. Didn’t I?” You shake your head remembering that he did indeed say you’d end up like this. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you won’t ever want anyone else.” With that he thrusts inside of you, hard.

Your legs wrap around his hips and your hands grab his biceps, desperately trying to hold on to something. Every thrust hits just right, every move he makes is perfect. You could stay like this, right here in this moment for your entire life. And with the way Alex is moaning into your neck, you’d say he feels the same.

You moan his name, trying but failing to tell him what you want. Luckily he understands and kisses you. It’s not as soft as the first time but it’s everything you need. He moans “Cum baby, cum for me” you clench around him as you lose control. Letting yourself fall apart for the second time tonight. Just for him.

He continues his thrusts as you come down from your high and only when your ready does he chase after his release. Thrusts become erratic and groans echo around the room. It’s your turn to tell him now “Please Alex, please”

And he does. Alex cums inside of you, panting and hot. Once he calms down he looks at you. Really looks at you and kisses you one more time.

............................................................................

In the morning it’s only Alex that is lying next to you. And honestly you're glad. You love Marco and don’t regret anything, but with Alex it’s different. It felt different.

You snuggle up to him, trying to get impossibly closer. And you feel his arm wrap tighter around you. “Morning sunshine” he grumbles. His morning voice making you go all weak all over again.

“Morning“ you sigh

He flips both of you over so that he’s on top and smiles sleepily at you “that was something hmm?” He asks a slight blush covering his face

You nod “it was nice”

“Would you do it again? No regrets?” He’s nervous and he’s not hiding it very well

You kiss him, squash all the worry in his head “I would… but only with you. Just you Alex.”

Then he smiles, his big smile that makes his blue eyes shine and says “Just me and you.”

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dikiyvter · 3 years ago

Note

23 & 31? :eye: for either or both

Of course aid anything 4 u <3

Uncommon Questions [ accepting ]

23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

For Gio: Envy is... kind of a scale of ugliness for Gio, to be honest. First and foremost his envy is typically not something ugly; It's typically something that turns more into a hopeful longing other than any sort of truly resentful behavior. Just because he wants what someone else has doesn't mean that he needs to take it from them necessarily; the world is not a pie to be split among it's inhabitants. He views the world as an endless wealth, and if he wants something someone else has, all he has to do is work to get it himself. Ultimately his longing to be human and to take a quiet role in human society spawns from envy of the lives that humans lead.

... And then there's the far uglier envy. Gio is a rather childish individual who experiences emotions very strongly; In part this is subconscious acting, and in part it's genuine truth; He's really never been good at things regarding emotions primarily because he's never been taught a whole lot in regards to control of ones emotions or ways to manage them. He's a bit... emotionally stunted but more in the 'seems like an erratic mood swing-y mess because he feels very strongly' sense and less, you know, [gestures at Baal and Zhongli]. There is thus always a chance that when Gio becomes envious of something, his first reaction is that of intense resentment towards whoever it is that has what he doesn't- This is partially true even for his love of humanity. Even though he starts off with the thought of "this is beautiful" it was still interlaced with a lot of bitter resentment that he would never really have that; Coming to terms with his worldview is what got rid of that. But it's a bit harder to have a mentality of 'the world isn't a pie; someone having a bigger slice than me doesn't mean i can't have more if i want it' when its... say...

A person whom you love whose fallen for another or is having all of their time taken up by them.

For Riga: ...Riga gets a much shorter paragraph and for that I apologize, but I have a lot more thoughts regarding Gio on this subject considering that lil clowns got a lot of conflictions and nuance to ramble about. Riga, on the other hand, tends to be far more simplistic in the things he is feeling and how he is feeling them; though this isn't to say he feels any less strongly or erratically than Gio does.

Rigatello typically feels envy as a genuinely ugly awful emotion that typically results not just in resentment but in a very, very intense form of frustration. A major part of his character is that he is someone who wants very little, but the few things he does want are things he perceives more as needs; Case in point being he doesn't perceive wanting Gio to care about him as being a want, he sees it as a need, and when your needs are denied you become... what? Angry. Frustrated. Depressed. Envy turns him violent, because why should others have what's rightfully his? Why are others entitled to the few things he truly needs? Why is he not deserving of these things? There's a tangible cycle to a lot of Rigatellos emotions, and it's that he is confronted with something ( or someone ) he wants; He becomes reliant, he thinks he needs them ( using gio as an example; He cannot imagine who he is without Gio nearby. He cannot imagine himself in the hierarchy that is set between them both and Dottore without Gio there, because Gio has always been the one to provide a release of tension, even if the relationship the two of them shared was at times very far from healthy; The change of something he sees as being integral to his identity and his place in his little corner of society is something that throws him VERY badly; Rigatello is someone very afraid of any meaningful change because the fear of what comes next and that change leading to potential failure is one that haunts him ) ; They move away from him, and he panics, because he has very little and thus clings desperately to what few things he has; Cue the cycle of seeing that which he 'needs' with someone else, being angry, being frustrated, falling down the rabbit hole of wondering why he isn't worthy, arriving at depression, resparking that frustration, and... repeat.

A lot of his envy spawns almost purely from a place of this frustration-depression loop of wondering why he isn't good enough-- something that ties in heavily with the way he was 'raised', where threats of being scrapped were thrown freely, and any failure could potentially result in his literal destruction.

Wait this wound up being longer than Gios. Whoops.

31. Who are they the most glad to have met?

Okay here's where we ease into me being able to make coherent sentences again bc i'm not bound purely by my muses emotions <3

For Gio, It would be Venti, in more ways than one. First he had technically met Barbatos. The ideal Barbatos gifted to Mondstadt that rubbed off on the freshly-created and quite impressionable Gio; It was Mondstadt and their talk of freedom that lit the little fire that eventually turned into Gio pursuing his autonomy and humanity. Then was the archon; Barbatos gave his vision to him, and without that Gio never would have managed to escape Dottore, and if he didn't currently have it he wouldn't have been able to evade capture for this long. It also served as a constant reminder of Mondstadts ideals -- And not just that, but the special shape that the vision takes has always been a symbol that although Snezhnaya was his home-- Mondstadt was where he belonged. Then came Venti; Someone who made him feel welcomed in Mondstadt when he was initially very nervous about being there. He and Venti became dear friends ( possibly more ) and now that's someone he looks forward to every time he's on his way back to Mondstadt. The city truly feels like home to him now, and that's mostly because of Venti-- and even if his friend doesn't wish to be seen as Barbatos the archon, Gio cannot help the appreciation he feels for those previous actions, nor for the general ideals that Venti / Barbatos inhabit.

For Riga, that would be Lio, no contest. It.. it would take me ten years to explain all of Rigatellos feelings towards Lio there's so much shit at play they mesh so fucking well together their traumas and mentalities are such similar echoes, Lio is literally the only person in the world that Rigatello has felt genuine love and affection for and not in some way panicked and tried to burn the bridge before it could burn him; He feels genuinely safe and happy with Lio, and the fear that constantly haunts him is eased in their presence; He trusts not just Lio but himself, the fear he typically fears when he touches others is gone because they trust him so thoroughly that in the midst of their love it's hard to be afraid of himself. He feels for once that he can be something that protects instead of something that exclusively does damage; He feels cared for, wanted, loved, when all his life he's felt rejected and constantly on the brink of destruction. Where he once was told his wants and thoughts don't matter he has now found someone who cares very much for what he wants and what he thinks and FUCK I have a lot of thoughts about these two.

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Oh god, here's another thing I can't fully explain.

For Gio: Immensely. Gios current mentality is essentially that if he just closes his eyes and refuses to think about it then he doesn't have to deal with his flaws, and if anyone points them out he can just get mad about it and avoid them until he dies because he does. not. want. to. think. about. it. He HATES feeling bad, he hates feeling negatively about himself, he doesn't... know how to genuinely change things about himself; And I think that. That itself can be very much shown in how he treats the fact that he's not human? A person? Yes, he's a fully sentient person with his own thoughts and expressions and free will, a human? Not exactly. He's made out of metal and circuitry and artificial materials, and this is simply a factual statement, its not opinion; But he almost treats it like it is. He sees this idealized version of humanity that he wishes to be a part of but he cannot fathom how he can be apart of it if the core thing about himself isn't changed, but its NOT something he can change; Instead of accepting that, however, and still going on with his goal to pursue his autonomy and humanity despite this, Gio would... honestly rather stick his fingers in his ears and go "lalala" because he doesn't really have the toolset to mentally deal with the contradiction of "I want to be human but I can't". He perceives a need to change that isn't there, and instead of trying to address it he ignores it entirely in hopes that... it'll just stop being an issue that he needs to address with himself at some point. The same mentality applies to a lot of his flaws. Does he know hes being avoidant of his problems? Does he know that it's going to cause more issues in the future? He does. But he can't even address it with himself because it makes him feel bad, let alone with someone else who could actually provide him with skills that he needs to change his behaviors and mentality.

For Riga: Okay he genuinely gets a shorter paragraph this time because in short? Rigatello doesn't care. Admittedly he kind of wears his flaws on his sleeve. He's a "says it right on the tin" kind of guy most of the time, where he's typically mostly open about the less positive parts of himself-- If not exaggerating them as a means of keeping people away. There are of course the flaws that he hides due to them stemming from traumas, and his general desire to hide all things relating to his personal thoughts and feelings-- But this in and of itself could be perceived as a flaw, though one very unexplored considering Lio is his first close relationship with another person where he's been in any form open about his own thoughts and feelings, away from the influence of Dottore or the Fatui.

Rigatello does have... slightly less healthy perception of what counts as flaws in himself, though, such as having his own thoughts and emotions. He perceives his traumas as weakness, and weakness is a flaw, to him-- So too, then, are his traumas. He's not sensitive about this in the sense that Gio is where he's willfully ignoring something he's doing wrong; Riga doesn't... know that this isn't a good mentality. He.

Riga is kind of hard to explain this regard because of how severely impacted Rigatello is by the traumas hes endured, the people he was 'raised' by, and the current lifestyle that he leads. His emotional understanding is extremely limited and always has been, and I'm not entirely sure how to put it in coherent wording; Because typically when I try to talk about Riga and emotions it devolves into word vomit because his thoughts are just... nonsense screaming pain mush that he doesn't know how to cope with so he tells himself to toughen up, shoves it in the closet, and goes on with his day until he can lay down at night and have a meltdown--

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Honestly? The general rule of thumb is that I don't typically write people that I myself would get along with, if only because I know way too much about my own characters and their flaws? When. I look at people that I get along with, its primarily people who are patient enough to deal with my memory issues and my general lets say... low iq, to be nice. They're mostly laid back people who don't give too much of a shit one way or the other, but are friendly and fun to talk to because they have interesting ideas to contribute to a conversation, give room for others to contribute, and don't mind a bit of chaos when things inevitably devolve.

When I look at the characters I write... They all have some sort of flaw that directly contradicts the core things I typically find in someone I get along well with?

Gio is someone who I think I could get along with for a while; But inevitably his flaws, his distress regarding those flaws, and his subsequent refusal to acknowledge them in any meaningful form would inevitably stress me out and it would start to get tiring.

Bluntly put Riga is scary and I feel like I'd be stressed out 24/7 that I'm going to irritate him... And his general mindset of emphasizing his own flaws to push people away would just make me angry and I'd probably wind up letting him isolate himself because, having once been someone who was very much that way, I no longer deal well with that degree of self-pitying behavior b/c it pisses me off.

Outside of this blog, Ku Shen and I could probably get along pretty well, but I think the issue is that he's a massive introvert who would go Weeks in-between texting, and I have the memory of a goldfish and i'd inevitably find myself in a position where i have a text from him that's been waiting for me to answer for the past week and I'm too nervous to reply because I feel awkward being like 'hi i have untreated adhd sorry', and then suddenly three months has passed and I just can never talk to this man again.

...I'm going to include my Morax on here as well even though it's blog isn't super active; Look I might actually be able to chill with Morax if only because we vibe in either 'i am listening to you ramble for 3 straight hours with occasional questions or commentary' or 'we have both been dead fucking silent for the past 3 hours' and these are both my ideal ways to exist in someone elses presence. Also I feel like it'd wanna do fun shit and likes going on walks or smth. 10/10 I think I could get along with Morax.

H) What trait do you admire most?

Ah fuck okay. Uh. For Gio... I admire his optimism and hope. I consider myself to be a generally hopeful person but I'm not typically the kind of like... ~ * direct action * ~ person, and Gio VERY MUCH IS in most regards. He's generally super fucking ambitious and if he WANTS something he will GET IT and you cannot STOP HIM and I just wish I had that level of

I. Dedication II. Energy III. Optimism in actually completing the goal

For Riga? I guess it would be his general tenacity and endurance. He goes through. A lot of shit. Constantly. And he just keeps trudging on forward without pause. He does what he needs to do, and if you get in the way of him and what he needs to get done, then he'll make you fucking regret it. Top tier shit 10/10 good for him.

#❄ ⤚ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴏᴋᴇs ( ooc. ) ⇾#❄ ⤚ ᴛᴏss ᴀ ᴍᴏʀᴀ ( inbox. ) ⇾#oh... my fucking god this is a long post im so sorry

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cryde-donovan-vlogs · 4 years ago

Text

Clyde’s Livestream - 12/3/2020

[ Content Warning: illness & small mention of blood ]

Since Thanksgiving, Clyde’s mental and physical health had been on a steady decline. He was stressed. His body ached with a constant burning in his chest. Apart from small, easily digestible meals, he couldn’t maintain an appetite or find the will to eat. The most calories he would get in a day was at 2 AM when he woke up with a fire in his belly that could only be momentarily extinquished by chugging milk. Fitful sleep came in small increments.

All of this left the jock in a bad state. His skin and eyes had dulled, bags were starting to form under his lower lashes, it was a mental battle to stay engaged.

Even with the obvious signs that something was wrong, he was too stressed to figure it out. It was easier to ignore the red flags and work. He felt like a failure in nearly every other aspect of his life, this was all he had left. The channel he’d grown and built from the ground up, his biggest ongoing achievement.

Clyde felt obligated to give his fans what he promised, a strict upload and streaming schedule. He was still going to go live tonight, it would just be from the comfort of his couch in his PJ’s while swaddled in blankets. The lighting was kept low for a chill atmosphere, to secretly mask how awful he felt and looked. A bucket sat at his feet, out of frame, just in case-- he’d been feeling increasingly nauseous.

6 PM, time to go live.

The stream started just like any other before it. Mostly general chatting and memeing while watching stupid videos with his commentary. Trying to be fun and talkative for hours was draining when he felt this bad but he managed. It wasn’t until a small army of people joined his stream at once, questions and gossip at the ready like drawn swords, did everything take a turn for the worse.

Sk8FastEatAss: Bri sent meeeeeee ✨✨✨

PoggerChamp69: hey bebe said u like a boy lol ur gay?? No wonder bri broke up wit u

Taytay45: Ayyyy Bri squad! Hey that blonde from ur channel said u like a boy?? Spill siss! ☕💅

TheBigNUT: lmao is this legit? 🙄

The chat quickly got out of control. Clyde’s expression fell and his stomach churned with unease as strangers speculated his sexuality (and the legitimacy of it), current crush theories, and Bri.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

A series of texts. Sweat began to bead on his cold body. He didn’t know who they were from but he had an idea and that brought with it a sinking feeling.

Clyde flipped his phone over and dared to peek at the screen-- it wasn’t Bri, it was Bebe. Apologizing.

[Text from: Strawbebe 🍓] I’m sorry.

[Text from: Strawbebe 🍓] My stupid brain let it slip and I’m really sorry. I don’t have an excuse.

[Text from: Strawbebe 🍓] I have to go clean up what Bri left me. I’m so so so so so so sorry. 😔

Oh god. Bri had harassed Bebe and she’d let something slip while live. It was hard to focus, words messily tumbled out of his mouth as he struggled to form coherent responses to all the questions overloading the chat.

Keep cool, Donovan. This isn’t a big deal. It’s okay.

Except it wasn’t.

His vision blurred and words no longer held any meaning. Even after reading the same sentence over and over again, he had no idea what it was about. He couldn’t remember. He wasn’t actually reading. Worry about Bebe and what Bri had done to her had a stranglehold on his thoughts. Was she okay? What did Bri do? Why were people so caught up about his sexuality?

It was too much. It broke him.

A pathetic whimper of pain slipped past pursed lips as he hunched over and buried his face into his knees. His body had enough. It wanted to dispel the toxins in his body, figuratively and literally.

Clyde didn’t have the mental fortitude to keep up the façade for another second. With what little energy he had left there was enough foresight to grab the bucket so he could throw himself off-screen and let himself be sick. The viewers were spared from the sight but not the sound of retching. A sound he was sadly all too familiar with. His biggest fear, losing face while live, being sick in front of others; it triggered a spike in his anxiety. This was something he never wanted anyone to know or see and now the internet had it.

His eyes, throat, and chest burned as he pulled back after a final heave. With a pitiful sniff he wiped at his mouth. A stark smudge of red smeared over his knuckles grabbed his attention as his hand fell from his face. Fear ran through his veins like ice. He shakily checked the bucket to see more red. Blood and stomach acid.

Panic sunk its talons into the streamer. Clyde leapt to his feet and instantly regretted it. The living room spun and while his vision darkened, sending him to the floor and off-camera.

Clyde was tired. So tired.

He fought shallow breaths as his chest felt too heavy to fully inhale.

The chat went crazy staring at an empty couch after watching the streamer plummet out of sight. Clyde was left crumpled on the floor, face pressed into the carpet as he slipped into unconsciousness.

STREAM STATUS: LIVE

#live streaming : ic

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reeesea · 4 years ago

Text

Something Sweet: Part Seven

~sweet home~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language

words: 4.7k

summary: Home is where your bros at right? right.

a/n: I actually like this chapter, shocker. i hope you enjoy

ao3

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

Minho stared at the video file sitting on his computer, on the familiar application site that had been haunting his mind for the past couple years. The debate he found himself in with himself on whether or not to submit another application, had become his default subject of thought for much of the past few weeks. All building up to right now. Something had tipped the scale though. Something that reminded him if he didn't submit an entry this year, that he might as well have given up on his one dream. His one goal. The only thing that had been keeping him motivated through university. So once again he found himself rationalizing, and knew that if anything he had to try, at least just one last time.

Upload complete, Thank you for your entry!

Minho sighed loudly. He had sent it in. The first part of the application. It was just a basic dance routine supplied by the academy. He had practice and recorded it all within one sitting. Having been a part of a dance crew for much of the past year had allowed him to quickly pick up choreography and perfect it. The other reason being that he wanted more than anything to get the overbearing presence of the audition tape out of his head space as soon as possible. A heavy sigh left his lips as he laid back down on the studio floor, not too long after a ping of his phone revived just enough for him to check his messages.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

2:50 pm

Minho-hyung!

I hope your day has been going well~

Sadly, no updates on when ill be free :/

They’re working us hard for the debut

It’s alright Ji, work hard!

You better be taking care of yourself tho...

4:03 pm (new)

Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)

{link attached}

I hope you like it!!!!

Oh, no i havent

I’ll give it a listen ^-^

As of late it wasn’t uncommon for Jisung to send the older songs he thought he would like. Always saying some cheesy line that was so blatantly sweet it made Minho flustered everytime. This time of course was no exception.

Ping.

HYUNG THAT EMOJI

Asjdnjsfma

I knew I was rubbin goffon you

Kkkkk

Dont get too ahead of yourself

atleast I can still type coherent sentences

~goffon~

Boo :p

Why Jisung was so persistent about sending him songs was lost on the older, but it was a sweet reminder that someone was thinking about him. It had been a while since Minho had even imagined that someone took a few minutes of their day to actually consider how he was doing. It didn't quite make sense to him that suddenly out of nowhere, there was his boy, man, person, who purposefully took the time to dedicate brain cells to his existence. Wild.

Minho hurriedly clicked the link to the song that Jisung had sent. It was an upbeat song, with a strong but subtle strumming of a guitar to keep the song’s pace just quick enough to be comfortable. “There's no one else that could ever hold me like you do.” The lyrics were in the realm of positive longing and companionship, but the dips into minor chords and tone of the singer created a mood of desperation. More than anything, the song brought forth a story to Minho. One that he could see with his eyes close and feel his body wanting to move to.

A smile stretched across his face, as he rose from his spot on the floor, dusting off the dull ache and pressure in his shoulders from having just finished a routine not even 10 minutes ago.

“But I know that I'd be crazy, Not to wanna be the one to keep you up all night”

Woah there Jisung, at least take me out to dinner first. He made a mental note to tease the younger later about his “Made me think of you :)” line later. Already stretching and drawing a plan in his head, Minho took his phone and saved the song, pressing the repeat button twice, to allow the guitar chords and chorus harmonies to carry on endlessly. A smirk stretched into an excited smile. Not wanting to jinx himself, a shy “finally” was whispered in the back of Minho’s mind at the surge of inspiration, but not spoken aloud just yet.

---

Flashing lights, heavy makeup, hot clothing, and too much fog from the smoke machine is all Jisung had thought about for the last couple hours. 3RAHCHA was in their last photo shoot for their debut. The concept photos would be released later through the week, slowly revealing the three members and their group as officially signed with JJP ent.

The multicolor lights had been running through his vision for so long that as soon as he walked into their Green Room, he had almost forgotten what color everything actually was. Looking in the mirror he saw the blonde highlighted streaks in his hair had settled nicely, slightly slicked back. The stylist had surely done their jobs well. Painting the three rappers up to look less like the nightcrawlers they were, and into something that leather and fishnet clad superstars might look like was definitely a challenge. Jisung had his makeup done just enough to give his eyes a smoky look to them, and grey contacts to emphasize his gaze. The ensemble he had on looked like something that had come straight from a catwalk. Fishnets crawling up his arms from his gloved hands and an asymmetrical shit he for sure would not have been able to put on without the help of his stylist-noona. All that plus some leather pants and combat boots, he definitely looked more like his persona J.One than the notorious hoodie clad couch potato named Jisung he usually found himself as.

Having just finished his own solo shoot, he signaled Changbin to head on to the set as he returned. The older nodded from his chair in front of the makeup station, as the artist finished the final touches to his eyeliner. Jisung watched as the shorter rapper walked out to the set in a white puffer jacket that he somehow pulled off, even with the bright red pants he wore. A part of Jisung was thankful his stylist hadn’t taken that many liberties with his outfit, but the makeup and outfit Changbin wore really only emphasized his intimidating stare and the wideness of his shoulders. It was undeniable that their concept photos would come out well.

Chan, who was seated on a couch, eating some of the provided sandwiches, was already hunched over his computer and mixing equipment again, airpods in. Probably working on tracks for their third comeback knowing him. Not wanting to jump right back into work Jisung snagged a few snacks from the buffet and found a chair he could lay on. Listening to music that wasn't work had become a rarity for Jisung in the years he had been with 3RACHA. Of course he always tried to stay on top of the recent pop and hip hop trends, but straying any farther than his trusty morning and workout playlists was more than unlikely.

Lately though, Jisung found himself looking through a lot of random indie, alternative, “western” pop, and especially dance music. The versatility of the genres was comforting to Jisung in the rather turbulent state his emotions and mental state have been in, as the debut approached. Also Minho. Meeting Minho definitely had introduced a whole new set of feelings Jisung was still working on navigating. As he listened to the different songs that populated this radio, he told himself he was just looking for some inspiration for his lyrics and 3RACHA’s new music, but even he knew that was mostly a lie.

Ever since that night at the bar with Minho he found himself always considering the older and what he would think of a song or how he would dance to it, or if he would even like it. After pointing out that he liked a particularly upbeat pop song with melancholic lyrics, during their impromptu karaoke session, Jisung had been delvinging into all related categories to find songs he thought the older might enjoy. He wanted more than anything to inspire his older companion? Partner? (that was a later Jisung question.) but he wanted to repay the man who had allowed him to get out of his creative slump. That night, as soon as the youngest rapper had returned to the 3RACHA “house” he felt the start of at least 5 separate tracks and choruses appear in his brain. His two hyungs jumped into action along with him as Jisung desperately tried to write and record everything that was jumping out of his brain at once.

Jisung remembered Chan’s smile and encouraging words as he fitted a few of his new verses to songs they had previously put on the shelf. After finding a particularly emotional but upbeat song he immediately wanted to send it to Minho. He always got hung up on what to say with the link. Other than the thought vomit that occurred every time he chooses to send him a potentially good song: “Found this song? U Like???” No Jisung, what are you five?? “I think you will enjoy this song. Please give it a listen? :0” No that just sounds desperate.

“You doing alright there Ji, I can hear you sighing through my earbuds?” Chan peeked out from under his styled bangs with a raised eyebrow, sending Jisung into a red embarrassed mess that he had been caught. He hoped his layers of foundation would cover it up.

“Yeah fine fine, don't worry. I’m FINE.” Attempting to hide Jisung curled up tighter into his arm chair. Just be casual Jisung it's a song not a marriage proposal dear god. “Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)” Good, yes fine. Send.

Minho responded immediately and cutely with an emoji that made his heart jump a little. Minho would respond always with a variation of a “Thanks! I’ll go listen”, but Jisung had yet to receive any confirmation that the older actually enjoyed the links he sent, much less had found some inspiration in them. At this point the only thing he could do was hope. He wanted nothing more than Minho to be smiling because of him.

Officially exhausted, it wasn’t until late when the 3RACHA boys had finally made it back to their apartment. The day Jisung had, had been anything but short. Almost collapsing immediately on the couch. Sana notified them that she had already ordered food to be delivered for dinner and that they should go to bed as soon as they had finished eating. Chan looked like he was about to pass out on the couch before the food even arrived, which was more than likely at this point. After their shoot they were immediately sent to a few other meetings laying out their marketing and schedule plans for the upcoming weeks. Although glad they were able to part with their artistic and career decisions with their company, it did add a lot of work and responsibilities to the trio.

Jisung’s phone had died somewhere after meeting 3 of 5 and he had submitted to having to carry the lifeless brick with him anyway. Not ideal for his wandering mind and anxiety that comes with a few too many stressful meetings. Once finally arriving home he went and plugged his phone in at the charger on the kitchen counter. Lighting up with notification buzzes as it rebooted back to life.

[ 5 new messages from Lee Minho hyungie]

Immediately cursing himself internally for not bringing his charger with him, he opened his messages from Minho ignoring all others.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

5:45 pm

Hey Jisungie, just finished up practice!

Actually may or may not have danced to the song u sent…

Maybe I’ll show you some day hehehehehehehehe ;)

7:21 pm

Han Jisung, did you forget your charger again >:/

Well I’m off to my late shift, I hope you have a good night~

Jisung always found himself smiling at Minho’s before work texts. They were always so cute. Either some sort of sweet well wishing or some other Minho-esque goodbye, along the lines of “don’t die mysteriously while i'm gone ;p” or “Have a good night, try not to miss my WONDERFUL company too much <3”. (The hearts always made Jisung grin hard, even if they were sarcastic)

This night though, Jisung found him almost jumping in victory at Minho’s text.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

12:35 am

YOU DANCED TO THE SONG

Really?!?!?!

What did you like about it?

When can I see????

You better not leave me on read after work!

Jisung tried to imagine what kind of dance Minho would do to the track he sent,and suddenly found himself flush at the thought of watching the other dance. Somehow, watching Minho dance, felt more intimate than any other situation that they’ve shared. Thankfully Minho seemed to want to hold off, so at least of the time being Jisung’s heart was safe. The exhaustion and stress from the day faded ever so slightly as soon as he thought of Minho with coordinating blush to match.

Jisung you lovestruck fool.

“Jisung! Food’s here!!! If you don't hurry Chan’ll eat your portion again.”

“HEY! It was one time.” Laughter filled the apartment gently as they all respectively fought gravity to get up and make their way to collect the food from the delivery man.

---

Minho tore up the stairs and through their apartment door as quickly as he could without spilling the carry out food he had in his arms. The clock was ticking a little past midnight and fear set in that the older would miss their planned celebrations.

Bursting through the door, “Did I beat him?!” The oldest was frazzled from rushing in order to beat their third roommate home from work.

“Barely! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, with having to bring the carry out.” Hyunjin’s sigh of relief was visible throughout the boy's now relaxed body. He had spent the last ten minutes hoping that they would still be able to pull off their surprise party for the youngest. Pacing around and failing to come up with any backup plans if Minho had been later than Felix. Thankfully for them both, Minho had a way of always being on time.

“Hey all that matters is I made it. Is everything else ready?” Looking around Minho could see that Hyunjin’s bed was transitioned back into the couch setting and that the floors had been tidied up. A couple stray balloons littered the floor as well as a home made “happy birthday felix” sign hung from their living room screen divider.

“Yep, I've just been waiting anxiously for you to get home for the past half hour.”

The door handle of their apartment began to jiggle, signaling the two boys to spring into action. Minho setting down the carry out, and Hyunjin frantically lights candles on the small cake on the coffee table. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled after-work Felix wandering through the door. As soon as the boy turned toward their living room, he was accosted with shouts and the flailing limbs of his hyungs.

“Surprise!!!” “Happy Birthday!!!”

Felix’s smile erased any of the signs of exhaustion off his face immediately as soon as he spotted his hyungs excited expressions. The cake, the streamers, the balloons, and sign all sparked some joyful tearing of his eyes as he set down his things and made his way to the small cake with a few random lit candles on top. The clock had crossed over into the next day as Felix had made his way home, that he had almost forgotten that it was now technically the early morning hours of his birthday. Coming home to joyful cheers instead of their usual exhausted silence had given him a certain happiness that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

For all of three of the roommates this was their first time having a celebration in their small home together. By now the sense of home was undeniable and without realizing it all of them had begun to consider each other and their shared 3 room apartment, home.

The disjointed singing of happy birthday followed by the laughter and conversation surrounded their coffee table as the three enjoyed their small carryout feast and cake. The warmth that their company gave each other lasted well into the night.

“Hyung! It's my birthday, stop eating all the cake!!!”

“I have no idea what youre talking about Lixie.” Minho says while actively taking another bite of their 2 person sized cake.

“Hyung!” The laughter of the oldest filled the room followed by the other two’s not too long after.

“Happy Birthday Lixie~” The smile hadn’t left the freckled boys faces since he had sat down, and remained as he pulled his two roommates into a forceful hug. It was his birthday so the boys both submitted to the clingy nature of their third roommate, as always.

---

It was late into the early morning by the time Minho had checked his phone.

[ 5 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung]

A soft pang of guilt hits his chest after reading the younger’s texts and realizing that he did in fact leave the other on read for the better part of the last two hours.

2:43 am

I’m so sorry Sungie!

We were celebrating Felix’s birthday, and I didnt check my phone….

Look at the cute cake we got him!

{photo attached}

Minho sent the selfie of the three of them with Felix’s cake, if anything just to lessen the guilt in his chest. Hoping that the cuteness of Felix’s smile would be enough to forgive him for low key ghosting him for a few hours. Minho knows that on the days Jisung has the most schedules are the hardest for him mentally, and he always tries his best to be there for him and send him a message or two to lessen the load on those nights. The fact that he hadn’t been there tonight filled him with some worry. A part of him hoped that the younger would’ve been asleep by now but their late night track record did not exactly support that.

---

Jisung had been lying painfully awake in his bed for an hour when he heard the buzz of his phone. Slightly upset with his body for not giving into the exhaustion he had gathered from the day, and just letting him sleep, he turned to the side table to check the messages. Awake fully ,but only mentally half conscious, he read through his messages:

Minho. Oh, yay, it's Minho.

Felix’s Birthday. Oh right he had mentioned that coming up.

Cute cake. Aw that cake is really cute… wait.

Birthday.

I have one of those, around this time to-

I missed my birthday. I forgot my birthday. Everyone forgot.

The cute picture Minho had sent was so filled with happiness that Jisung almost let the pain slide and pass the moment by. But something just didn't feel right in letting himself forget his own birthday. The fact that the others hadn’t remembered didn’t bother him too much. Chan, Changbin, they were all busy with schedules and he can't blame them. Especially since he, himself had forgotten. No birthday text from his family either. Unsurprising though since he rarely got in contact with them since moving to Korea in high school. He forgot though.

He wasn’t quite sure why this was bothering him so much. Some people don't even celebrate their birthday, or remember how old they are, but Jisung had always prided himself on never letting his work take over entirely who he was. To exhausted-Jisung, he couldn’t help but feel like this was one step toward losing the grip on who he was, and that was in itself, terrifying.

The coldness of his bed and the dark expanse of his room seemed to only perpetuate the way Jisung felt. Floating, alone, lost. His insecurity was starting to come into focus, and no wonder it had been keeping him up. He had been spiraling for days probably, without even knowing it. The buzz of his phone lit up his face, snapping him out of his own thoughts for a moment.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

2:50 pm

You okay Jisung?

I hope I didn't wake you

Jisung noticed that the app had revealed that he had read the messages and was indeed awake. Unfortunately, exhausted-and--spirling-Jisung was the only one present enough to send a response. Hopefully Minho wouldn’t mind him too much.

You didn’t wake me, was already up :/

It looks really fun hyung

I just realized something too

My birthday was yesterday

I forgot it

Jisung found himself fighting the watering of his eyes as he sent those messages. Why was he crying? He just forgot, he was busy. It was okay. Right? The tears seemed to only cloud his vision more, blocking him from reading the messages from Minho that were buzzing and populating the screen. Not bothering to wipe his eyes, he let them blurr.

Wh- do you- mea- ???

Jis--ng ar- y-- ok--?

I-- sorry i- di-nt -----

---- wa-t --- ca-l?

--sung?

A few moments passed, without him realizing it, as his phone buzzed some more, screen changing to the incoming call screen. Sucking up his tears and drying his damp screen, it took a few tries before answering the call.

---

“Jisung!?” Jisung nearly flinched, just nearly.

“Hi hyung, How was work?” hoping to cover up his tears by changing the subject. Jisung thought it was a pretty good attempt.

“How wa- what, no. Jisung are you okay?” There it was again. The undeniable worry in Minho’s voice. Ow.

“Yeah I’m okay.” Despite Jisung’s efforts it was obvious to Minho that the other had in fact been crying. Not wanting to push the younger though, he allowed him to change the subject

“.... okay, I just want to check in on you. I worry you know, Sung!”

“About me? that's silly hyung.” The distance in his tone replaced Jisung’s usual brightness, and it hurt Minho to hear it.

“I don't think so. How am I to know what my favorite customer is up to? You may be a soon to be rap star but that doesn’t keep you from ignoring your hyung.” Even though Jisung giggled at that, the irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Minho. A wave of guilt washed over his chest as soon as he said it.

“I am sorry though. For not answering sooner and everything.”

And for reminding you of your birthday, and making you cry, and not being there to make you smile.

“No don’t be sorry! That’ll only make me feel worse for bothering you… I think the exhaustion was just making me delirious, I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights.” Minho had to fight his initial protective instincts that told him to scold the younger for not taking care of himself, because a part of him knew that the younger was certainly trying his best to do so.

“Well if you can’t sleep ever, just call me okay? I’m usually up from my shifts anyway. Plus if I'm not up surely one of my roommates is. Felix will probably never let go of you once he finds your birthday brothers." Hearing Minho's laugh lightened the tight pressure that Jisung hadn't realized had been settled in his chest.

"Okay hyung, i'd like that I think."

"You better. My time rarely comes free, and this is a limited time offer." Jisung’s laugh is a little bit more enthusiastic this time.

“Of course hyung.” A silence came over them for a moment. Not an awkward one, more of a point of realization and relief. Like the feeling after having a good cry, in Jisung’s case.

“Happy belated birthday Jisung.”

“Thanks hyung… Did you have a fun time with Felix?”

“Yeah! It was actually a lot of fun. Just some carry out and cake after work, but it was good to relax with them. We don't always have free time together, and haven’t had the chance to celebrate anything until now. Hyunnie luckily found a cake on sale at the mart today, sparking this whole thing.”

Minho remembered the frantic call from the younger as he delved into his plans for giving Felix the “perfect surprise birthday celebration” because he had “found the perfect cake to match Felix’s cuteness.” It was on sale. Also because “Come on Min-hyung Felix would absolutely do the same for us.” Explaining the situation to Jisung really did solidify the fact that Minho knew Felix, would in fact, plan some adorable birthday celebration for the older two if given the opportunity.

“What would you guys have done if he hadn't found the cake?”

“I’m not sure maybe it would’ve just been a carry-out celebration.”

“Still sounds really nice hyungie. You and your roommates seem so close.”

“I suppose shared rent does that to people.” Minho laughed it off but he had begun to cherish the brotherly bond that had grown between his roommates.

Not having ever considered it before, the fact that the roommates were only able to buy a cake because it happened to be on sale, revealed to Jisung that their financial situations may have been farther apart than he realized. Money had never been a barrier that Jisung had to face, always having family (or honestly Changbin) help pay for his living and pursuit of his dreams. Sure he’s had part time jobs in the past but he never found himself worrying about not making enough each month. Not going to university definitely was a large factor in maintaining his “affordable” lifestyle.

“It's nice you do things for each other. I can't remember the last time my hyungs and I have done something together that didn't have to do with our music.” Jisung started to feel some sort of jealousy at the closeness that Minho and his roommate had found in each other. Financial guilt and emotional jealousy are a strange combination for a half conscious Jisung to say the least.

“Are those fools not taking care of my Sung properly? Illegal, tell them to call me I have to yell at them too. They better not be working you too hard.”

‘My Sung’ Jisung almost choked. Almost.

“Nonono Hyung! They take care of me fine, we're all just exhausted with work.”

“Hmmmm okay they get a pass this time, but please relay my threat.”

“Okay okay I will.”

“You should probably get some rest soon. You're busy tomorrow right?”

Jisung yawned in response, which was enough convincing for Minho that he needed to rest.

“Okay looks like it's sleepy time for hardworking Jisung~”

“Wait hyung!” Jisung wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, even though his body was actively fighting him.

“Yes belated birthday boy?”

“Thank you for not letting me be a sad gremlin all night. It would've been nice to have spent my birthday with you, but you still made me feel better.”

The musings of sleepy Jisung were just about enough to let the fondness burst from Minho’s chest. As much as he continues to hide it, the fondness still seeps into his voice, “Of course, Jisung we always have next year.” A promise he wasn’t sure he could keep but Jisung always made him want to try new things.

“Next year?” The sleepiness had definitely taken over, making his voice much softer than his usual bright edge.

“Yes next year... Goodnight Sungie, call me back if you can't sleep okay.”

“Mmkay, G’night hyungie.” Already half asleep by the time he hung up, Minho was glad that the younger was finally able to rest. Glancing at his roommates huddled together on the couch already drifting off, Minho accepted that it was his turn to finally rest knowing that all his younger companions were all safely sleeping. Hyung instincts he supposes.

-----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#skz au #skz fic #stray kids au #stray kids fic #lee minho #han jisung #minsung #leeknow #skz lee know #skz han #stray kids #lee felix #hwang hyunjin

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