#(g)-idle put it straight/say no | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlitmark · 6 months

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𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕻𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 (𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘)

Summary: Being in a polyamorous relationship can take a toll on a person; Jongho just happened to be the one to uncork the bottle. Pairing: Seonghwa x San x fem!reader x Yeosang x Jongho Tropes: hybrid au, poly au, established relationship au Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive Rating: PG 13 Warnings: language, anxiety, stress, mentions of unhealthy self-care habits, reader described as smaller than all members and has blue eyes (bunny quality), minor injury, mentions of sex, kissing Word Count: 6,164 Note: your favorite Thunder is back! <3 thank you to @mejuii and @downtoamagicalland for beta reading as always <3

Listen to: Put It Straight by (G)-Idle ♡ As I Am (feat. Khalid) by Justin Bieber ♡ I GUESS I’M IN LOVE by Clinton Kane

Series Masterlist

You’ve been holed up in your workspace almost all day. You have been for a few days now. The only times you ever emerge are to shower and get some form of nourishment in your body. The influx of orders you had for your shop came out of nowhere, and you’re struggling to keep up with what needs to be done. All three of your boyfriends are worried about you, to say the least. San hasn’t been around much due to a merger he’s been working on, and Yeosang has been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to get everything arranged for a new project that could make or break a lot of things for him. Seonghwa has been around, though. Just yesterday, he decided to stay home from the shop and sketch while you worked on crafting a rather detailed necklace.

You’re so lost in what you’re creating that you hardly register the knock on your door. So when it pops open, you drop your half-done chain making the individual links scatter across the desk. Despite the urge to break down right then and there, you take a deep breath and recollect yourself. When you look up, you’re met with a very concerned-looking purple dragon.

“Treasure, you’ve been in here all day… have you eaten anything?” San asks with a worried tone.

“I’m fine.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, “I need to finish this bracelet by tomorrow and get it shipped out.”

San steps closer and squats down beside you. Even with him squatting, he’s barely below your eye level. It only serves to remind you how much smaller you are than them. Your silver-eyed boyfriend reaches to take your hands in his. At first, he doesn’t think anything of the tension rings along your fingers. He knows it helps you from cramping up too quickly. Then he takes in the small pinches and cuts on your fingertips and palms.

“Treasure, you should take a break. I’m worried about you. We all are.” He tries to reason with you.

“I’ll come to eat after this project is done, promise.” You offer, taking your hand to run over some of his scales along his cheekbone.

“You better have eaten a well-balanced meal and drank at least three glasses of water by the time I get back from my meeting,” He bluntly reminds you.

“I’ll do my best to do that.” You chuckle while playfully saluting him.

He stands back up to his full height, “I love you, and I hate to see you so overworked.” He sighs, placing a kiss against the base of one of your bunny ears.

“I love you too. I promise I’ll leave this room at some point.”

Some point becomes hours later when Seonghwa forces you out of the room even though the bracelet is still incomplete. San walks back in the door, Yeosang beside him, as you’re nibbling on a veggie wrap. Seonghwa is sitting beside you eating as well to make you feel less alone in your activity. San has a small bit of smoke curling out of his lip that he tries to stop you from seeing. It doesn’t work, though. Yeosang whispers something that seems to soothe the purple dragon before they both walk over to you.

“How’s your project coming?” Yeosang asks innocently.

“Still not done….” You sigh, bunny ears falling back against your hair, “It was supposed to be done today so I could ship it out tomorrow….”

“And it’s okay that you didn’t finish it today.” Seonghwa offers, “You own your own business, and sometimes you need to know your limits on what can be done.”

“But-”

“No buts,” San adds, “you did what you could today. That’s all that matters.”

You nod silently and take another small bite out of your wrap before placing it down on the plate again. When you get stressed like this, you hardly want to eat anything. You know it’s an unhealthy habit, but it’s just how you function. Despite your quiet state, your three boyfriends seem to easily flow through conversation. Some sort of ugly jealousy curls through your stomach. The way they seem to fit together easily without any seams makes you feel almost out of place in a way. You’re not willing to address that with your current state of mind, though.

“Hops,” Yeosang calls quietly; you look up at him, “You didn’t hear me, did you?” He chuckles sweetly, “Who do you want to crash with tonight?”

You nibble at your lower lip, “I think I’ll stay in my nest tonight.”

“Do you want one or more of us to–” You cut Seonghwa off before he can finish his question.

“No!” You blurt out, “I want to sketch out some more projects, and I’d hate to keep you up.”

“You know that won’t bother us, treasure.” San reminds you, “I’d much rather you get some good rest than workshop more projects.”

“I’ll be fine, San, I promise.” You stand up abruptly, ignoring the (barely) half-eaten wrap. “Good night boys. Love you!”

You bolt to the room your nest and work area are in. The moment you firmly shut the door, you sit down at your desk and hunch over the same bracelet you’ve been working on all day.

Even after slaving over projects for the next two days, it feels like you’ve made no progress. You’re pacing back and forth in your studio and nest space, hoping that inspiration strikes you to at least finish one project. A soft knock sounds on your door again. This time Yeosang is the one who pops his head through the doorway. You’re worrying on the edge of your ear and continue pacing even though you feel your boyfriend’s worried eyes on you.

“Hops,” His low voice sounds through the space, “Sannie and Hwa already headed out for the day. They thought you were still sleeping when they were leaving.” He explains.

“I’ve been up for a while.” You respond flatly, “I need to get this shit done.”

Yeosang is slightly taken aback. You’ve never been one to curse. So to hear you say such a word was not what he was expecting to come from your mouth. He steps closer and grabs you gently to stop you from pacing anymore. You look up at him and see the worry swirling in his green eyes. He pulls you into a hug. You’ve come to learn that he’s not very physically affectionate outside your heat. So the fact that he has you wrapped in a hug, your face buried in his chest, means a lot. His minty scent invades your senses, giving you a momentary feeling of peace. That lingering panic and fear creeps back into you when he pulls away.

“Take a break from your projects, Hops.” He reminds you, “Stepping away from a project can do wonders sometimes.”

You nod, “I will.”

It may be a half-truth, but you don’t want to worry him if you don’t need to. He places a soft kiss against the top of your head and takes another step back.

“I have to go meet a client. Unfortunately, all three of us are out of the house for the rest of the day.” He sighs, “I should be back around dinner time. San said he has a business dinner tonight, and Seonghwa is closing the shop today since Yun is off.”

“I’m a big bunny,” You try to joke, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, little one,” He smiles softly, “Just giving you the rundown for the day. I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, your snow-white ears twitching slightly when he gently scratches the base of them.

Yeosang is out the door, and a few moments later, you hear the front door of the penthouse close too. You debate your options for a few moments before deciding to get a drink before returning to work. You aren’t fully sure who’s home right now. At least you know Yunho is home. You’re about ninety percent sure Mingi is at his university lecturing right now. It’s likely that Wooyoung is at his dance studio, and you haven’t seen Hongjoong in about three days. When you get to the kitchen, you find that Jongho is home too. He’s sitting at the small breakfast bar sipping on a mug of tea. You shuffle behind him, being sure not to knock into his deep blue tail. You reach up into the cabinet to get a glass when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You nearly jump out of your skin and end up dropping the glass, causing it to shatter on the counter. Immediately, Yunho moves to make sure you’re okay and explains he wasn’t trying to scare you. Your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and you’re already down the hall and back in your nest. The first thing you can think to do is grab the duffle bag and start stuffing clothing into it. Tears are threatening to fall from your eyes, but you hold them back for now. You can smell the two men that are home. They’re still down the hallway. However, your senses are out of sorts due to your panicked state.

Again, a knocking sounds on the door frame. You whip your head around, and your ears twitch around, trying to find one sound to focus on. Your nose twitches even more as you take in the dark blue dragon standing in the doorway. Jongho steps into the space when you don’t speak, knowing you need someone to calm you down. He would have never breached your space without your permission had you been more stable mentally.

“Where are you off to?” He asks gently.

That’s when your tears burst through fully. You start sobbing and find yourself face-first in Jongho’s sweater before you can stop yourself. He awkwardly wraps his arms around you and tries to soothe you. The room is only filled with sniffles and loud sobs as you stand there in the golden-eyed dragon’s arms. You’re completely unaware of how long you cry in his arms, but when you finally slow to a sniffle, you pull your face away from his sweater. There’s a large wet spot from the amount of crying you just did. There’s a bit of snot, too, which you cringe at and immediately try to wipe off with your own sweater. You can feel his strong chest beneath the fluffy material, but your mental state is hardly focused on the dragon’s physique. Your head is pounding from crying, which doesn’t help the situation at all. Jongho still has his arms wrapped around you, securing you in your spot.

“You need to talk about anything?” He offers quietly.

“Are you sure you want to hear all of that?” You chuckle, trying to downplay your emotions.

“You need it. We both know that.” He sighs, not letting you divert anything.

Suddenly you’re very aware of his arms wrapped around you and how comforting it feels. You find yourself nodding at him.

“Do you want to go to a neutral space, or are you comfortable right here?” He searches your pale blue eyes for any discomfort as he asks.

You appreciate how respectful of your boundaries he’s being. You know you need this, and he does too. Damn him and his phenomenal therapist skills.

“We can stay here…” You bite your lip, debating whether or not you want to ask him a specific question or not. You decide to throw caution to the wind and ask. “Do- do you um… could we-”

“What’s up Hops?”

“Well… I’m kind of all over the place, and… do you care if we cuddle while I vent?”

“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” he asked again.

You nod, “It would…”

“In your nest?”

“Yeah… if that’s okay.”

“Lead the way.”

Jongho releases you from his hold and allows you to get comfortable in bed where your nest is before he approaches it. You shift a little bit allowing Jongho to climb in beside you. The dragon is slightly stiff as he gets semi-comfortable. You snuggle close to him, which makes him melt beneath you. He wraps an arm around you and sighs with a small smile on his face.

“What’s on that mind of yours, Hops?” He asks once you’re both comfortable.

“A lot of things… where should I start?”

“Wherever you want to.” He offers, small vines wrapping around his fingers as you get more comfortable.

“I feel like an outsider.” You admit, “And like a failure…”

“What makes you say that? You have your fluffle, and you’re part of the Thunder now. You have a successful business making jewelry.”

“I haven’t been able to finish a single project for days now, and I feel horrible. These people are waiting for me to finish these pieces for them and-” You start crying again.

“Take your time.” He reminds you, “Do you wanna hear my two cents on this, or do you want to continue what you were saying.”

“You can talk.” You sniffle, burying your face against his sweater.

He wraps his arm around you tighter. The small vines tickle against your jaw lightly as his fingers hold your shoulder. You find yourself sinking further into his touch subconsciously.

“Here’s what I think.” He starts, “Everyone has their own threshold. When you reach that threshold, you can’t do it anymore. You need a break. Your limit is different from mine and different from the others in the Thunder. You need to give yourself breaks, Hops.”

“I know, but-”

“No buts, bunny.”

“But, Jongho…” You pout, “You’re super successful in your career, San owns a whole monopoly, Seonghwa and Yunho own a tattoo shop-”

“And you have a very successful jewelry business.” He stops you mid-sentence, “Just cause we have more income doesn’t mean that you’re unsuccessful.”

You nod and nibble at your lip. You feel a thumb against your lip, gently pulling it from between your teeth. When you look up at Jongho, you see him giving you a gentle, borderline endearing look. It steals your breath away for a moment. Your ears go lax as you maintain eye contact with the navy dragon. You take note of how his navy scales frame his face perfectly and how they contrast against his bright red hair. Suddenly, you snap back to reality and shake your head slightly to ground yourself.

“I know that but still…”

“Still what?” He prods lightly.

“You guys seem actually to get work done, and I’m still fighting with this same necklace that I’ve been working on all week. I have a damn sketch of the thing, and I can’t even do it.” You groan.

“What’s on paper doesn’t always convey in practice. Have you tried looking at it or approaching it a new way?” He asks, his thumb gently caressing your arm as he speaks.

“... No…” You admit, gaze dropping down to your fingers, “I’ve been very set on the style, and my customer really likes the design I sketched…”

“And it’s your business.” He reminds you, “If you need to rework things because it’s impossible to do in practice, they need to understand that or lose their deposit on the art.”

You nod silently. Jongho notices you remain quiet after providing his two cents on your situation. There’s far more to your issue, and he knows it. He moves his navy blue tail to be draped over his thigh and, by proxy, wrap around yours. The tip of it rests against your lower back. And while you’re used to dragon tails resting against you, Jongho’s tail feels almost foreign to you but absolutely not unwelcomed.

“I know that’s not all, bun.” He sighs, letting the arm wrapped around you hold you just a bit tighter, “What else is going through that mind of yours?”

You look up at him and see his golden eyes fixated on you, “I don’t think you want to hear about my relationship right now.”

“I want you to feel better.” He assures, “Tell me what’s going on.”

You find yourself curling closer to the dragon and tucking your head just below his chin. You feel a few scales along his jaw, but it’s nothing that bothers you. After all, you live here with them almost all the time now; you’re no stranger to scales touching you. Your ears are pushed back and lying flat against your hair overtop Jongho’s arm. You feel him relax further after his initial tensing.

“Well… about a week ago, we were, um…” You didn’t know how to phrase it to him.

“You were having sex, okay. What went wrong to make you feel so uncomfortable and try to run away today?”

“How did you know I was gonna say that?” You try to deflect.

Jongho chuckles airily, “You're going to tell me I’m wrong?” You don’t answer, “So, what happened that got you to this point.”

You sigh and debate whether you want to let it all out or tell him just to forget about it. It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Jealously happens in relationships. Jealousy looks different in yours because instead of two people, there are five.

“Smells like burnt cookies.” Jongho points out, “Just say it before you end up smelling like a burnt kitchen rather than overbaked cookies.” He teases lightly.

“I feel like an outsider in my own relationship.”

“Okay, why do you feel like that? You know San, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would burn the world to the ground if you asked them.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes again. One escapes and lands on Jongho’s barely damp sweater. Though you know, Jongho can’t see your eyes with your face tucked under his chin. He does seem to know you’re having an emotional hurricane internally. You feel his tail press a bit harder against your body as if to mock some weighted blanket to help you relax.

“They just seem so happy together. I felt like after that very awkward sex that I was just a hookup again.”

“That bad?” He sighs, “I know you know how the Thunder functioned before San and Seonghwa brought you home. Hell, Yunho, and Mingi are worse than you’re polycule sometimes.” He lightens the air, “Remember, you’re the glue that holds those boys together. Yes, they would casually hook up with each other before you were introduced to us, but the dates, talking about how they feel, regulating their schedules… Hops, that’s all thanks to your influence on this Thunder. It feels like I’ve tried to have interventions more often with them than with my clients. Something about you made it click, though.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah?”

You don’t know what overtakes you, but you untuck your face from his chest and kiss his cheek. You realize what you’ve done after you see Jongho’s slightly shocked expression. Your nose starts to twitch as panic rises in your throat again. Jongho’s strong hold keeps you in your place, along with his tail still lying across your legs and along your back.

“It’s okay, bun.” He assures, “You just surprised me. If you want to ask something when you’re in the right headspace, you can do so. You’re not in a completely clear or stable mental place right now, though.”

You nod, “Sorry,”

“Nothing to apologize for. Come back here and get comfy again.” He offers, “You rant, and I’ll listen.”

You tuck yourself back against the dark blue dragon and almost feel like you’re at home in his arms. A tug in your heart makes itself known. Of course, it would now, when you’re in the midst of emotional and relational turmoil. Jongho smooths a hand over your hair and ears as you start rambling about everything that’s been bothering you. From missing your fluffle to work to your boyfriends’ dynamic. You feel small amounts of weight press against your hair.

“What’s in my hair?” You ask, “I feel something.”

“I’m weaving flowers in.” He says casually, “Do you want me to take them out?”

“N-no,” You feel the heat of a blush rush to your face, “Tell me about the flowers.”

“There’s a few red carnations, that’s all. Some are full blooms, others are half-blooms. They look nice against your hair. I like the contrast from how pure white your ears are too.”

You pull your body to be sitting up. Jongho is still lying down, and his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“You can put them and more flowers in my hair all you want. I’m giving you more space to work with while I talk.” You explain, “I like that you’re playing with my hair.”

A smile graces his lips, and you barely see his fangs peek out. He conjures a small bouquet of little dainty pink and white flowers. One moment there was nothing there, and the next, the flowers were in his hand.

“So, as I was saying, I love my boyfriends, but it’s hard not to feel excluded when they know each other like their favorite things in the world. It really hurt me when I saw San and Yeosang cuddling while Seonghwa tossed the wet wipes at me. I know I’m newest to whatever dynamics were happening here before, but…” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, “I’m still their girlfriend, and it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

Jongho accidentally tugs at your hair while braiding a flower into it, making you yelp slightly.

“Sorry,” He quickly apologizes, “I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though. I know, ironic when you have three emotionally constipated dragon boyfriends, but it’s true.”

“I just don’t want to make them mad at me…”

“If they get mad at you for having normal emotions, then I’ll personally make them each a batch of poison ivy tea when I refill the tea satchels.”

You giggle lightly and feel Jongho move your hair over your shoulder, signifying that he’s done meticulously intertwining each flower with your hair. You turn around and face him. He’s sitting criss-cross in your nest still. His golden eyes practically melt you as he gives you an affectionate look. Those tugs at your heart return, this time accompanied by a tornado of butterflies in your stomach.

“You feel better now?” He asks softly.

You nod, “I needed that a lot more than I realized.”

He opens his arms, “You still look like you need some comforting before you talk to your boys.”

You climb into his lap, slotting your legs around his hips, and feel his strong arms wrap around your waist in a tight hug. You bury your face in the crook of his neck. Your nose fills with his book scent, and it instantly relaxes you. You don’t break away even when you hear the penthouse door open and click shut again. You’re so engulfed in his scent you don’t even know who’s returning to the lair. Jongho’s arms tighten around you even more. Then, you process the sniffles you’re letting out. You’re not even sure if you’re feeling the emotional aftermath of the day or if you’re nervous about the confrontation later, but you’re sniffling back tears again. Your tears slide down Jongho’s neck and along the snake tattoo that looks as if it’s curling around his collarbone. He doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t question why you’re crying or make any comment to stop you from feeling what you do. He lets you feel. It’s just what you need right now.

“What’s this?” You hear San snarl.

You tense in Jongho’s hold. Fight or flight instincts beg you to bolt for the door, even if San grabs you in the process. The only thing stopping you is Jongho’s arms holding you in place. Suddenly, Jongho rips a flower out of your hair. You yelp at the sudden movement and then see the navy dragon shaking out a singed red carnation. You know San didn’t mean any harm to you. When he was pissed, he tended to lose complete control of what he did with his magic.

“Hops.” He snarls, “I need to talk to you. Alone. Now.”

He hasn’t called you that since you officially started dating him. Hearing the neutral nickname sounds foreign to your ears in the worst way possible. You’ve never seen him direct his anger at you, either. Your heart rate spikes again, and your nose twitches at the speed of light. Subconsciously you grip onto Jongho, maybe to try to soothe yourself. You don’t want to think too hard about why it was comforting to you.

“Talk to him. It’ll be okay. If not, remember what I told you.” He ends his sentence with a slight chuckle.

You nod and climb out of Jongho’s lap. Your eyes linger on his golden eyes, noticing how his pupils dilate as he looks back at you. While you’d love to think it’s out of affection toward you, you decide to believe it’s simply to help calm you further. Jongho gets out of your nest and dismisses himself from the space. You watch as a vine curls around the door nob and pulls the white wood door shut. The tension is tangible enough as it is, but when the therapist dragon leaves, it becomes almost suffocating. San’s silver eyes are slit so thinly you can hardly see his pupils at all. It’s as if they don’t exist at all.

“I-it wasn’t what it looked like…” You say, trying to ease a bit of the tension.

“Are you sure, Hops?” He practically growls, “It sure looked like you were getting too cozy with someone who isn’t one of your boyfriends. We said you could cuddle with the others if you needed it. That was crossing a line, though.”

Normally seeing your deep purple scaled boyfriend dressed for the office sends you into a mood that you would put in a similar category to your heat. Now, though, it only strikes fear in you. You so desperately wish to crumble under his stare and submit to your prey tendencies. You swallow that urge and hold your head high, remembering Jongho’s words.

I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though.

“Would you have rather me run away back to my fluffle without a word to any of you?” You bite back, throwing your arm in the direction of your half-packed duffle bag, “You, Seonghwa, and Yeosang have been making me feel like I’m not even part of our relationship anymore. Had Jongho not stopped me, I would’ve been gone for hours by now. Yes, the cuddling could be seen as crossing a line, but he’s the reason I didn’t go running out mere moments after Yeosang left.”

“Treasure…” San starts, trying to step closer to you.

You put your hand up, and it’s as if you put up an invisible block in front of him.

“Let me speak.” You sigh, “You three communicate without words. You’ve been involved with each other in many different ways long before I was brought to the Thunder. After last week’s events… seeing how easily you knew how to take care of Yeosang while you three practically ignored me and let me handle myself hurt. I’m your girlfriend, but the longer I’m here, the more I feel like just a hookup you brought in with your two boyfriends for some extra fun.”

You let out a shaky breath. You don’t want to cry telling him all of that, but you feel your eyes fill with tears. There’s no way you’ll be able to stop them from falling. You sniffle and let your gaze fall down to your feet rather than looking at your boyfriend. He doesn’t move. That invisible block is still fixated in front of him.

As if the timing couldn’t be worse, you smell Seonghwa’s sweet strawberry jam scent enter the home accompanied by Yeosang’s peppermint tea. It’s as if he knows there’s tension, too. You know your scent is burnt, and San’s is far stormier than his typical calm sea breeze scent. Your eldest boyfriend doesn’t even knock. He invites himself and Yeosang into your bedroom and is greeted by your crying figure and San a few steps away with tendrils of smoke escaping the corners of his lips. Yeosang is the first to step closer, placing a kiss on San’s cheek, only solidifying your emotions. Comforting San before stepping closer to you.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Yeosang asks quietly, wrapping his arms around your frame.

You try to break out of his hold, but you’re no match for his strength. Angry tears keep rolling down your cheeks as you stay trapped in his hold.

“Look at me.” Authority rings in his tone.

This time, you look at him.

“Am I that unloveable?” You snap.

“Treasure, please.” San says weakly.

“Yeosang.” You say flatly, “Let me go.”

Your bronze boyfriend backs off. All three of them are clearly concerned about you and trying to figure out why you just asked the question you did. Your nose is still twitching, and tears are still staining your cheeks.

“We need to have a long talk. All four of us.” You huff.

You settle in your nest, wrapping yourself in a throw blanket that smells much more like Jongho than any of your boyfriends. You see the jealousy in San’s eyes as you do so. Yeosang is on your work stool, Seonghwa is sitting in your reading chair, and San is still brooding, leaning against your closed bedroom door. You can’t escape. It’s probably for the best; you need to say this.

“I kinda yelled this at San already, but… you three have been neglecting me.”

You watch as the confusion etches in Seonghwa’s face. He had been spending the most time with you compared to your other two boyfriends. Yeosang’s reaction isn’t as visible, but you know he’s just as confused. San knows, though. He hates that you’re saying it again.

“I feel like a hookup again. You three are so seamless with each other and don’t seem to give me any care. Last week, Seonghwa… you just threw the wet wipes at me while San took care of Yeosang with so much care… that fucking hurt. I almost ran away today. Jongho stopped me.”

“Treasure… we love you so much. I’m sorry I did that. I wasn’t even thinking about it-” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“I know… it doesn’t change that it hurt… still hurts worse than hell. San came home and found me cuddling with Jongho in a way that was a bit compromising. There was nothing inappropriate happening. I promise. And–” You stop yourself.

“What is it, Hops?” Yeosang asks quietly, “We need to know everything.”

“I kissed him.” You admit, “I was on such an emotional rollercoaster, and he made me feel safe and loved… I didn’t think about what I did until after it happened.”

None of them speak. It scares the hell out of you. Your pale blue eyes flit between all three of them. Their expressions are unreadable. Well, San’s isn’t. A fresh curl of smoke escapes his nose as he wills his flames back down his throat.

“Did you like it?” Yeosang asks again.

You hadn’t thought about that. Did you? It was so spur of the moment you didn’t actually think about how it made you feel. Your heart feels like it’s on fire. It aches.

“I did.” You admit.

“What do you want that to mean for us?” Seonghwa adds.

“I know we’re on delicate grounds right now…” You sigh, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, “I feel the same pull toward him that I do towards you three.”

“Transparency, right?” San finally speaks, “I’m so fucking jealous, but you’re right… we haven’t been caring for you the way we’ve been caring for each other. We should all make an effort to meet each other where we are. All four of us. And–” he stops himself, “If you want Jongho, we can invite him.”

“Seonghwa? Yeosang?” You ask, ears shifting towards them.

“Honestly…” Yeosang sighs, “I miss being with Jongho. We also knew in this Thunder we have a tendency to share, even with San’s jealous streak.” He pokes fun at his purple boyfriend.

“I’m always happy to do anything that helps our relationship and ultimately you, Treasure. I love all my Thunder, and I love you.”

A smile breaks out on your lips, and tears start streaming again. San is the first to approach you. He wraps his arms around you, tail curling protectively around your waist. You feel both of your other boyfriends join moments later.

“I love you, Treasure.” San whispers against your bunny ear.

“I love you.” You sniffle back.

“We all love you.” Yeosang kisses your other ear.

After a long discussion about what each of you needed from each other, you begin discussing who should approach Jongho about joining. It’s out of the question for San to do so. The last time San and Jongho interacted was when he walked in on you, cuddling with the dark blue dragon. Ultimately, Yeosang is chosen. He’s the closest to him, and they think the same way. Their history together before Yeosang started dating you just adds to why he should be the one to ask. Yeosang is also the newest boyfriend. Having Seonghwa go to the youngest dragon could end badly, given that Seonghwa has been dating you longer than Yeosang has.

You go with Yeosang down the hall toward Jongho’s bedroom. You stay outside the door as Yeosang gets permission to enter the space. Instantly, you hear laughter and feel how light the atmosphere is in the room. You see a few hanging plants through the small crack in the door. You haven’t seen many of their bedrooms in great detail, but seeing greenery in Jongho’s room makes warmth spread in your chest.

“Treasure,”

You’re taken aback when you hear the pet name. It’s not Yeosang’s voice. It’s Jongho’s. You step closer to the door. Popping your head through the door, white ears tall on your head, you see Jongho’s golden eyes giving you that same adoring look he had earlier. Yeosang has a soft, comfortable smile on his lips. His hand is outstretched, and you find yourself curling into his side.

Jongho’s room is exactly how you expected it to be. Plants are everywhere, not so much that it’s crowded, but it adds a comforting and homey touch to the space. He has a desk against the far wall, framed by bookshelves. His bed has a wall of vines behind it with purple flowers randomly throughout them. There’s something about the space that is so shamelessly Jongho.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me, Treasure?” Jongho asks with a soft smirk on his lips.

You nod, and your eyes shift up to your green-eyed boyfriend. He just nods slightly at you and gives you a comforting smile.

“Jongho… would you like to be my boyfriend?” You ask.

Yeosang removes his arm from around you as Jongho steps closer to you. The gold-eyed dragon hybrid takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look up at him. You want so desperately to melt at the touch but you hold your ground somehow. Your ears instantly fall back against your head as your chin tilts up. The flowers are still woven into your hair and tickle against your ears, making them twitch slightly. Jongho takes his other hand to pluck some flowers from your hair.

“Red carnations: admiration, devotion,” he states, twirling it in between his fingers. He shifts his hold on the flowers to show the small white and pink flowers. “Aster: faith, love. Does that answer your question, Treasure?”

“Jongho?” You ask, dazed by his words.

“Yes, Treasure. I’d love to date you.” He smiles a bright, gummy smile, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You practically breathe out.

His lips are on yours a moment later, and you feel an explosion of emotion. The hand that was previously holding the flowers wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to his body. It’s almost as if you’re the only two in the world. When he pulls away, you see his heavily dilated gold eyes. Your hand reaches up to brush against a few scales by his hairline before carding into his hair behind his ear. Before you can get lost in the moment again, Yeosang swoops in and kisses your cheek before leaning over to Jongho and kissing his cheek as well. He wraps his arms around both of you. You turn your head to see your two other boyfriends in the doorway with sweet smiles on their faces. They come into the room and join the hug. Yeah, everything felt better now. They felt like home, and your heart aches out of pure love for your four boyfriends.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxystar-blog

#ateez x reader #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #poly!ateez #dragon!ateez

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writing-to-nobody · 1 year

Text

Not So Simple

Rouge and Azel discover they have something in common. Sometimes it’s not as simple as doing the thing that would make us happiest.

Continuation of Indecision. Rouge belongs to @littlemoondarlingarts :)

Words: 2,244

Rating: G

Rouge had hardly gotten a single page into the letter he was translating when Azel interrupted.

"How on Earth do you focus with all this noise?"

He looked up from his work to see Azel cover his ears, wincing as if the music physically pained him. And he says I'm dramatic, Rouge thought. He'd even been kind enough to put on a record in place of inviting a live performer in hopes that Azel would find it a suitable compromise. Clearly, it hadn't worked.

He returned to his work, puzzling over Dracula's handwriting. "As I've told you, I have a difficult time focusing without it, and considering how I spent the last few days in your office getting scarcely anything done, I think you can afford to indulge me for a single day."

"Where my empire is concerned, I can't afford an idle day." There Azel went again with his usual self-important drivel. Most of the time, Rouge indulged him, but he was beginning to run short on patience.

"You're welcome to return to your office," he replied curtly. "Just don't expect me to be waiting with bated breath for your return."

That bought him some time to focus. He finally deciphered the word that had given him so much trouble. Lackadaisical. It was a good thing Dracula couldn't read any of his translated work. He'd probably complain that Rouge wasn't maintaining his flair for the unnecessarily verbose.

The room was quiet save for the scratching of his pen on the paper and the gentle swell of the music in the background. Had Azel left, then? Rouge told himself he didn't care. It would probably be easier to focus without him, after all. He managed to maintain that little lie for the time it took to finish the first of many pages. Then, he couldn't help himself. He glanced over at the chair he'd acquired for Azel (custom made, thank you very much, and comfortable, unlike the stiff excuses for furniture Azel kept in his office. He'd even been considerate enough to request the designer to leave space for Azel's tail. And what did he get for it? Complaints about his workspace!).

He was somewhat pleased to find that Azel had not left, but judging by the way the man was hunched over his papers, a deep frown marring his face, he was still sulking over the arrangement. Well, that was just fine. Rouge could make it up to him later, once he'd made it through the veritable mountain of letters he was supposed to have sent out days ago.

Somehow, he made it through the day, though it was one of the most trying in recent memory. Spending hours poring over the words of a man who saw others as little more than dolls he could make dance for his own amusement wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. Dracula knew too much, and if Rouge ever tried to terminate their arrangement, he'd happily destroy not only his life, but the lives of his sons. He couldn't let that happen.

"Well," he sighed. "I suppose that's enough for the day. Perhaps we could go for a stroll and enjoy what remains of the moonlight. What do you say?"

Azel didn't respond. At a glance, Rouge thought he was hunched over the desk in despair. It wouldn't have been the first time that day. He rose from his chair and took a tentative step toward him, only to find him fast asleep.

Well, my music's good for one thing, he thought, amused. Their stroll would have to wait. In the meantime, perhaps he could find his guest a blanket…

—

Azel jolted awake with a gasp. He heard something skitter across the floor—his pen, maybe—and was glad he'd just missed knocking over his inkwell. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Where was he?

"I suppose the chair is comfortable, then?" a familiar voice teased.

It took him only a moment to place it, and when he did, he sat up straight, clearing his throat. Something slid off his shoulders. A blanket? How had that gotten there?

"Rouge," he said, as neutrally as he could manage, in an attempt to maintain what was left of his dignity.

He spotted the vampire lounging in a chair across the table from him. He had a book in one hand, though he seemed more interested in Azel.

"How long was I…" He started to ask. Then he broke off, pursing his lips. Maybe if he didn't say the word, they could both pretend this had never happened.

"Asleep?" Rouge prompted, instantly and gleefully dashing that hope. "Well, I'm not certain, mon cheri. I looked up from my work a few hours ago to find you that way, and I thought you might need the rest."

"Hours?" Azel exclaimed. Running his hand over his hair, he was distraught to find it out of place. He must look like a fool. And what of his work? Had he gotten anything done?

Rouge's smile faded. "Is something the matter?"

"I…" Azel grimaced. "I apologize. You must think me dreadfully unprofessional."

To his surprise, Rouge scoffed. "If you think the way we've been conducting ourselves up to this point was meant to be professional, you must have a very strange idea of what constitutes a professional relationship."

"Th-that's—" Azel stammered, blushing. "What I mean is, you must think less of me, after this."

"Must I?" Rouge leaned forward, resting his cheek in his hand. "This isn't one of your…" He waved his other hand in a lazy flourish. "Circular meetings."

"Circle," Azel corrected.

"Yes, that. I'm not some foreign dignitary, I'm your—" Rouge broke off, seemingly fumbling, for the first time in Azel's memory, for the right word.

Unwilling to pursue that line of conversation further, Azel searched the room frantically for another topic of conversation. His eyes fell upon the stack of papers Rouge had been working through all day. "You know, I don't believe I've ever asked what it is you actually do for work," he said quickly.

"Oh." Rouge's expression soured. He drew the stack toward him, picking it up and tapping it twice on the table to bring all of the papers into alignment. "Translation work, when I'm fortunate. When I'm unfortunate, Dracula sends me a few centuries' worth of disorganized, almost entirely unrelated paperwork and demands that I assemble it into some sort of order."

Azel wondered if he'd misheard him. "Dracula," he echoed. "You work for Dracula?"

Rouge sighed irritably and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and bouncing one leg in clear agitation. "Trust me, it's not as glamorous as it sounds. Not even remotely."

"Dracula is…a real person," Azel said slowly.

Abruptly, Rouge abandoned his chair and strode toward the door. "Are we going to talk about work all day, or are we going to go for a walk? Honestly!"

Puzzled, Azel followed.

—

"This is nice," Azel commented to break the silence. It was a pleasant night, if a bit chilly. The moon was nearly full and, without the pollution of a million lights, one could actually see the stars.

If Rouge had heard him, he gave no acknowledgement of it. For some reason, he seemed to be in a foul mood, and had been ever since they'd left the castle. Azel wondered if it was something he'd said. His companion had seemed to be in good enough humor until he'd directed the conversation toward his work.

Perhaps he didn't like his job. Or, was he cross that Azel had changed the subject when he'd been attempting to define their relationship? At that thought, Azel felt a familiar anxiety pressing in on him. What did Rouge think this was? Azel wasn't oblivious to the fact that he was the latest in a long string of…dalliances. It probably wasn't anything serious. That should have made him feel better, shouldn't it?

After all, he didn't have room for a—…for anything more than a fling. He was meant to marry Skye Delacroix. It was the safe thing to do, and the smart thing to do, and historically, his choices had been nothing if not safe and smart. Where his brother had run toward a life of frivolity to escape his responsibility, Azel had faced it head on. It hadn't mattered if he'd wanted it or not. Why should this be any different?

Besides, he didn't even know what he wanted.

…Well, he knew he didn't want to marry Skye. He was exhausted enough as it was without having to play to her every whim. Surely there were other ways to avoid war. Logically, it would be more advantageous for them to band together, marriage or no marriage, against their would-be enemies, but Skye wasn't exactly known for her logic. She was more the type to damn her entire empire if she felt slighted.

A part of him wished his father were still about. He wouldn't be having any of these silly thoughts, then. He would be marrying Skye, and that would be that.

His father was gone, though. The choice was his. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't and twice as miserable at the prospect of either option.

He took a deep breath, cool night air rushing into his lungs. The air was so fresh here, not smelling of sulfur at all. It wasn't stifling like the city, either, with cramped buildings constantly looming over you and glass and concrete everywhere you looked. Sometimes, he almost wished he could stay.

Of course, that wasn't an option. It had never been an option for him. Besides that, right now it didn't seem like Rouge even wanted him there. Maybe he ought to work on addressing that first.

"Rouge," he said, "if I've offended you, I—I apologize. I seem to do that more often than not, and it surely wasn't my intention."

Rouge's red eyes flicked toward him, nearly seeming to glow in the moonlight. "What?"

"That is, you've been very…accommodating—I-I mean—" He was stammering: something he only seemed to do around Rouge. There he went making a fool of himself again, and Rouge was staring at him now, his expression unreadable. "I've enjoyed our time together," he choked out.

"Oh." Rouge was frowning again. "You're leaving, then."

"What?" Azel shook his head frantically. "No, that's not what I meant at all! I was trying to say that I enjoy our time together, in the present tense, it's just that I've never—" He folded his hands uncomfortably. "I've never done something like this. I don't know what you expect of me or if I'm making too much of this, and If I am, please stop me now before I make a fool of myself any further, but I never meant to upset you by avoiding the subject, and now you must think me a coward, and—"

"What are you talking about?" Rouge interrupted, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh…" Azel twiddled his thumbs. "Haven't I upset you?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well…" How could he put this without offending him? "You seem to be cross about something. I thought it might be my…avoidance, on the subject of our…relationship." He could swear his heart nearly stopped just saying that word. Was it a bridge too far, saying that aloud?

To his surprise, Rouge chuckled. "Ah. No. That wasn't it at all. It's…something else. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Besides…" He linked his arm with Azel's. "I'm far more interested in discussing our relationship." He smiled mischievously.

Azel gulped. Well, at least Rouge wasn't angry with him. Not yet, anyway. "Ah—yes. That."

"And here I thought this was just a fling to you, but my are we getting serious now..."

"Rouge."

Rouge laughed. Azel's heart fluttered at the sound. "Forgive me, mon cheri. You are so easy to tease."

Azel huffed out a sigh and tried to act as though he wasn't flustered by the pet names Rouge used so freely.

Running his gloved fingers over the Azel's sleeve, Rouge hummed pensively. "Does this mean you've decided not to go along with that dreadful arranged marriage idea? Or am I simply to be your paramour?"

Azel grimaced.

Rouge's hand stilled on his arm. "I see."

Azel felt like a rat in a snake's coils. "I don't want to marry her. Surely you can see that!"

"Then, don't."

Azel pulled away. "It isn't that simple!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "There's more at stake here than my happiness. Lives may be hanging in the balance, and I have to do what's best for the people who are counting on me. Can't you understand that?"

At that last question, Rouge looked stricken. He turned away abruptly. "Better than you know," he muttered.

Azel wasn't sure what to make of that. Before he could decide whether to press the matter, a cool breeze whipped past them and, despite his thick coat, Rouge visibly shivered. Azel hesitated a moment before putting an arm around his companion's waist.

Rouge flinched.

"Sorry," Azel said immediately, but before he could draw back, Rouge huddled closer to him.

"I think I've had enough of walking," he said, still in that muted tone, so devoid of his usual spirit.

"Let's go inside," Azel agreed.

Rouge stayed glued to his side the whole way back to the castle. They walked in silence, and Azel worried.

#Azel #Rouge Rouge #story #stories

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anonymousdandelion · 2 years

Text

Idle Threats

Originally written as a fluffy take on one of @greenfiredragonfly’s Angstember prompts: "I didn't mean to lie."

Idle Threats, rated G, 400 words

“So,” said Aziraphale, speaking slowly and carefully, “let me get the situation straight. You lied to your houseplants, threatened them with grievous bodily harm, and told them you were going to destroy the plant that is now in your car because it grew a leaf spot.”

“Um,” said Crowley.

“But you don’t want to actually do it.”

“Ngh.”

“And so now you want me to get you out of this predicament. Which is entirely your fault.”

Crowley put on his most wheedling expression.[1] “Weeell, I mean…”

“That’s a yes, then.” Aziraphale sighed. “And it didn’t occur to you beforehand that maybe lying to your plants wasn’t the best of ideas?”

“I didn’t mean to lie!” Crowley objected. “I just… uh…”

“Just lied to them?”

Crowley glared. “I was going to say, I got caught up in the moment. And I didn't think I was going to have to follow through on it! I figured they’d behave, if I told them to.”

“Because you, of all people, know that once having been told to behave, no being would ever dream of doing anything else? No such thing as disobedience?”

“...Okay, yeah, touché.”

A long pause.

Crowley, implausibly, somehow managed to turn up the wheedling expression yet another notch.

[1] It was very wheedling.

Finish reading

(More of my Fluffy Angstember prompt fills here!)

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale and crowley #crowley's plants #fluff and humor #banter #dandelion fics #fluffy angstember

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bekabarlow · 4 years

Audio

#say no #g idle #gidle #queendom #put it straight #whats your name #senorita

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fy-yuqi · 5 years

Photo

song yuqi.

#song yuqi #yuqi #woogie #idle #gidle #(g)idle #(g)i-dle #queendom #wonderful #say no #put it straight

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pufflocks · 3 years

Note

hi bestie! here's a concept for u: think about sitting in arans lap after taking an (eventful) shower after practice. his skin warm against yours and the towel hanging loose around his hips does nothing to stop his bulge from pressing into yours. his kisses are slow and purposeful, sucking on your chest and neck while you apply product to his damp hair, massaging his scalp in that circular motion he likes. it's soft and intimate how you crane your head to get a better look at his scalp, brushing down and around in a clockwise motion a couple times until the waves curl in on themselves and he's looking dashingly handsome per usual.

"gonna put the duey on too?" he grins and you humm in reply. confirming his assumption when you lean in to press a kiss to his plump lips, simultaneously tugging the baby blue silk material off his desk. you secure it to his head with ease and slide your fingers along the seams to ensure the fabric doesn't press into his forehead while he sleeps. "there. all good" you whisper.

arans lovestruck smile is blinding, he looks at you with dark, hooded eyes that unleash butterflies in your abdomen. then a pulse of wanting warms you from the inside out when he rasps "mmm, thank you prince"

Summary: When- when I say I look dumb ash smiling hella hard in my bed- I say that with the highest confidence cuz. ✌🏽😛 I dont think yall understand but Aran is literally a fucking- *bangs on the mf table* BLACK GOD— lemme do this before I bust a nut in these damn pants. Also I love yo ass for this. ❤💙💛 { Hope you don't mind I got carried away. This req might make me do a part 2. 🚶🏽‍♂️}

Warnings: NSFW • Aran being fine ash • proof read

Cast: Bottom!M!Reader! X Aran Ojiro

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Steam clouded shower windows with two intimate silhouettes crossing eachother. Coming for the second time is when your mind started o slip into something darker than your own lust. You draw your body closer to the chest of your lover, Aran, as his heavy hands squeeze near your rigid hip bones as if it was routine.

In an hushed voice to your ear, "So out in the open for me, sweets." He smirked when you turned to plant a messy kiss under his jaw. Not meaning to linger longer than you need to.

Due to everything basically falling in slow motion, breathing felt more difficult as you felt him pulsate inside of you. Ugh, his girth was most definitely something you favored.

Anything that required moving felt hard, though. How could he be conscious while you were barely on your own feet ? God complex anyone would think, honestly.

Minutes passing while your heart sped up for the umpth time as you felt your orgasm come in reach. Not even a break ? You could only guess he was still pumped with adrenaline from the winning game earlier.

He hit the finishing touch to the ball as the audience roared with excitement and cheer. He deserved it. And as the greedy and lovestruck thing he was, he also thought he deserved some shower sex from his favorite person. You.

"Baby- g- Mm-! Gonna cum, bae. Fuck !" He held you close as though someone would take you from him. Broad shoulders hunching over as he jerked you off under lukewarm water.

He mumbled a, "Come on baby boy.. Come on daddy and show me how much I deserve this tight ass." That sent you over the moon immediately, having you shooting a quivering load. Breath racked in your lungs and head thrown back as your curled in closer to the much bigger body. "There you go. Good boy. Fuck, such a perfect lil' thing." Ending the sex with tender kisses to his lovers back.

He did deserve it.

●•》☆《•●

After a long while, you both made yourselves present in his room. Aran not even bothering to adjust the towel around his hips considering the light bulge he had underneath rudely pressing against your own.

"I love you so much Y/N." He started with purposeful kisses occasionally giving your ass a firm, but a gentle stroke of his enlarged hands. He loved you alright. He couldn't stop himself from nipping at your warm wet skin on your chest to your neck. The hickies already looking as red as a rose in spring. You doubt he would apologize for them since he enjoyed hearing you complain in the morning.

"I love you too. Too much.." You were in sync with his body language and movement. Had you not drawn yourself back, you probably would have had him have his way with you again. That sounded pleasant to the ears though you both needed rest.

"Give me the comb and oil bottle." Your boyfriend stopped his idle ministrations and quirked and eyebrow at you.

"Give you what ?" He waited for a response before you giving him a playful eye roll.

"Please. Please give me the comb and oil. Stop play with me, Aran." You said. He stifled his laugh as you were handed the comb. Soft stroking his head with it as you crane your head to get a different angles at a specific area. His hair was one of the things he cherished secretly so you and some other family members were only aloud to touch it.

A minute later or so you realized his eyes were lingering near your chest down to your idle member. "Feel good ?" You whispered. Scooting yourself closer to his body.

"Yeah. S' good to me, baby boy. Thank you." He murmured. The movement to hug your waist nearly made you drop the oil bottle out of your hand.

He sat up straight to look up at you only to give you a lingering smooches to your jaw. "Gonna put the duey on ?" He asked. You hummed. Raising your shoulders a bit from the ticklish sensation he was giving you to your jaw.

"So sensitive." He poked your sides making you jump, while in the process of grabbing his silky baby blue durag from his desk.

"Stop before I choke you with this string, boy." You giggled. He snickered. Not funny.

"You wouldn't." He pestered on. You would, but you weren't in the mood to act goofy after kickass shower sex.

He started to trace his fingers under your towel, rubbing on your thighs while you were at work putting on the duey. It was silent in the room besides him humming every now and then some songs.

"Done, you look sexier now." You kissed his forehead as you smoothed your hand over his head. He smiled then his face turned into confusion.

"I wasn't sexy before ?" He said chuckling. It was cute and funny how your day started with a win of a your boyfriend's game, then ending in you both in his room giggling and cackling like dumbasses.

"You are ! But this baby blue on yo big ass head gonna make me bust one. Stay safe." You chuckled lightly as you pulled away from him. Finally standing on your own legs on the cold wooden floor. The water on both of your bodies dried up now aswell.

"'M finna put on some clothes. It's cold in here." Before you could even step closer to the dresser he grabbed you by your waist. The both of you falling into the plush bed as he made quick ministrations to cover you both in blankets and his sheets. The towels you both had around your bodies long forgotton.

"You are literally something." You mumbled scooting closer to his warm chest. Having a slightly bigger person to cuddle with was always a blessing and he took that role with a smile.

"I may be something, but I'm your something and you're my prince." So sappy. He planted a kiss to your temple. You hummed in appreciation as you placed chaste kisses to his chest and underside his clipped beard.

"Sleepy now.." you said. Yawning felt really good at the moment. Letting your eyes hang low and mind rest fully. Aran held you closer to his chest as he brushed back any hair from your forehead.

"Go to sleep my prince. You deserve it." He murmured laying the final kiss to your upper eye lid. You don't know what you did to deserve it, but knowing how humble and forgiving your man is, you might have deserved it at this point if he said something.

Yes.. Yes.

#aran x male reader #aran fluff #aran smut #yellow hearts #bottom male reader #male reader #aran ojiro #anime x male reader #haikyuu male reader #fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff

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hongism · 3 years

Text

reciprocated - j.wy (ft. c.san) 18+

↦ pairing: san x fem!reader x wooyoung ↦ genre: pwp, smut, 18+, non idol au, friends with benefits au ↦ wc: 4.0k ↦ pt 2 to belated | ↦ warnings: explicit smut, unprotected sex, oral sex: f and m, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum eating, masturbation, creampie

When you and San sent Wooyoung the less than appropriate for viewing video, you had half-expected an immediate response of an extended keyboard smash or just a series of emojis conveying his both panic and excitement to be receiving such a thing. What you got in reality was radio silence on his part, and that seems to have caught San off-guard as well because he can’t seem to figure out why Wooyoung wouldn’t respond. Granted, it’s only been around a week since you sent the damn thing, but Wooyoung is notorious for responding within a fraction of a second, so the mystery becomes why hasn’t Wooyoung responded or reacted. He texts you and San regularly, either through the group chat you have with the two men or just one on one, but he does not under any circumstances mention the email attachment you sent from San’s computer. Even when San directly asked him over text if he received his birthday gift, Wooyoung just neglected to respond entirely.

San could not be more unbothered by the fact that Wooyoung won’t respond. You on the other hand can’t help but feel like he has seen the video and was so disgusted and grossed out by it that he’s just counting down the days to end your friendship. It’s a constant and bubbling anxiety in your gut, and it’s one that heightens when Friday evening rolls around and Wooyoung comes by your apartment with San to watch a movie.

The latter arrives before Wooyoung does, pushing into the apartment like he owns in and immediately making himself comfortable beside you on the couch. Your nervous exterior must be evident to him because his cheerful attitude morphs into one of concern the second he sits down.

“What’s that expression for?”

“Do you think he’s… I don’t know, weirded out?”

“By the video?” You nod hastily, and San twists to look at the ceiling. “No way. He’s probably too shy to say anything. Full guarantee he’s been using it as jerk off material every day this week.”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t he have said something by now? I think it’s—”

“I think you’re overthinking,” San states. An idle hand comes to rest on your thigh, skin bared by the shorts you’re wearing, and he mindlessly traces faint patterns there. “I have an idea. One that I’ll only do if you’re okay with it.”

“What are you planning?” You narrow your gaze on San. The words are a bit suspicious, but San has never given you a reason not to trust him before, and you’re certain he wouldn’t do anything without your explicit permission and comfort.

“He’s too shy to talk about it, no?”

“I don’t know, San. That’s part of my concern,” you huff out in response.

“And I know him better than you do. Trust me when I say that he is merely too shy to say anything about the video.”

“So, the plan is…?”

“Threesome?”

“San!” The man all but cackles at your startled reaction and retracts his hand from your leg to clutch at his chest.

“I’m being completely serious.”

“You can’t be.” San deadpans, eyes searching yours with razor-sharp focus. “San.”

“Do you want to see how he really feels about it?”

“Of course I do but… I’m – I, well, I’m just shy about it!”

“And do you trust me to guide you through it and stop when you want to stop?” San leans towards you, and you find yourself moving with him, breaths intermingling as you get closer to each other.

“Yes, I always do, San.” He laughs under his breath once before letting his forehead fall against yours.

“And how do you feel about sex with Wooyoung?”

“I’m… I would like that a lot, I think. You aren’t gonna get jealous if Wooyoung fucks me, are you?”

“I can’t promise not to, but at the end of the day, I know—”

The thought is cut short thanks to the door popping open once more, and this time when you look up at it, it’s Wooyoung who steps through with his head tucked to his chest. You sink your teeth into your lower lip without thinking, letting San nudge you further down to the middle of the couch so he can better settle against your body. Wooyoung doesn’t even look up as he comes closer, phone in hand and screen flashing a bright light that keeps him preoccupied. That does absolutely nothing to ease your worries though, and his obvious avoidance of you and San’s forms causes an extra surge of panic to rush through you. San again detects your nerves and darts a hand out to clasp around your thigh just at the top of your knee, fingers massaging the bare skin there gently while Wooyoung positions himself on the other end of the couch. He doesn’t put a ton of distance between the two of you, which is a small reassurance, but he still won’t look up at you.

“Hey, Woo, did you–oof!” You send an elbow straight into San’s ribcage before he can finish the question. San squeezes hard at your leg and sends you a sharp and pointed glare. You return it with one of equal heat to no avail because San continues speaking, hand keeping you firmly in place. “Did you get my gift? For your birthday?”

Choi San is far too bold for your liking, you’ve decided that much.

“B-Birthday?” Wooyoung stutters. He glances up from his phone with cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and his gaze flicks between you and San for a few seconds. The silence drags. You can hardly breathe thanks to the lump in your throat. Wooyoung stares. San waits. And you are ready to burst. Then —

“For fuck’s sake, Wooyoung, do we need to reenact it on the couch for you?”

And in that moment, you truly do think you have died because there is no way in a million years that San really just said those words out loud. You jerk to bury your face against his shoulder – not helping your case since Wooyoung has most definitely seen the video and is most definitely thinking about the things you and San were doing in said video and any act of intimacy or closeness between the two of you is a dumpster fire just waiting to happen.

“No! No, no, no, no, no,” Wooyoung rambles so quickly that the words sound foreign against your ears. “You don’t – I wouldn’t – that’s too much to ask, I would never—”

“Well, you were obviously thinking about it!” San argues, not missing a beat in his remarks, and you really want nothing more than to completely disappear from existence entirely. “That boner isn’t exactly discreet!”

Whatever sound leaves your lips is nothing short of inhumane, most likely something close to a pig squealing, and San secures an arm around your waist when you throw yourself further against him. He releases a loud laugh that rings in your ear, squeezing you as tight as he can without hurting you.

“I’m sure we can work something out. You heard the way Y/N was screaming your name, didn’t you?” You’re thankful that Wooyoung can’t see your face because you are positive that your wide eyes make you look like a deer caught in headlights and he might take that as a sign of hesitance, when in reality you are already imagining Wooyoung fucking you raw while you’re bent over San’s lap. Instead, San stands up from the couch, keeping his hands on yours while he moves, and you blink up at him with the same wide eyes.

“I – I didn’t w-want to assume that she – I thought it was just… just because you were – yeah,” Wooyoung stammers. His voice grows more quiet with each passing word, and you can envision the way his chin drops to his chest as it normally does when he’s flustered.

“Didn’t want to assume that she wanted you just as badly as you want her?” San inquires, head tilting to the side as he asks the question. “Was the sight of her begging for your cock while my cum was dripping off her face not enough for you?” You need to make a mental note to beat the shit out of him after this, but you also don’t want to admit that the burning humiliation is actually causing your gut to twist with arousal. Your thighs press tightly together against the couch – a movement that doesn’t escape San’s notice. “She’s practically drooling from the thought already. Shouldn’t you give her something to do with that mouth?”

The words have their intended effect on you; they’re words San has spoken to you in less than appropriate situations time and time again, but now they seem even more filthy because Wooyoung is right there. Your lower lip trembles as a whimper slips out, and you hear Wooyoung inhale a sharp and painful breath of air.

“I won’t interrupt, don’t worry,” San murmurs, letting a finger trace over your chin. “I’ll just keep her fully occupied, yeah? How does that sound, sweetheart?”

“G-Good,” you hastily answer through a gasp.

“Mhm, then you can be good and sit still for him while I eat you out?”

“S-San.” The single word is spoken breathlessly, and you’re shocked that it even comes out with sound, to be honest. San just smirks in response, watching and waiting for you to indicate that you don’t want to do this. So when you provide a small nod of confirmation, he nudges you off the couch and onto the floor. Your knees hit the carpet painfully, but you take it in stride as best you can and move to a more comfortable position. Wooyoung remains in a state of shock, not budging one bit from his spot on the farthest cushion, and San has to lean over your kneeling form to catch hold of Wooyoung’s collar and yank him forward.

“Are you gonna make her do all the work?” He hums, pressing into Wooyoung’s personal space so much so that Wooyoung has to lean away from him.

“N-No, I’m – I’m just still a bit shocked.” He isn’t too shocked to finally sit on the center cushion and press his legs around your body, feet planted firmly on either side of your thighs. Now you can clearly see the growing erection tucked behind his jeans along with the hazy flush on his cheeks and neck that looks oh so pretty from this angle.

San moves away from the couch no doubt to make room for himself between your folds. It leaves you with the task of helping Wooyoung out of his pants, but without San’s endless confidence, you both fumble awkwardly around each other for too long before bonking heads when Wooyoung tries to tug his pants down for you. Ironically enough, the contact is all you needed to dispel the awkward energy between you two, and you share in a small laugh with hands still fumbling over each other.

“Do you… is he right?” Wooyoung asks once your hands hook around his underwear. You hesitate there, blinking up at the man in wonder for a few moments.

“Yeah, he – um, he didn’t really need to convince me to do the video,” you mumble back before embarrassment gets the better of you. “I was just worried that you wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Oh no, I definitely do! Not to, uh, sound too enthusiastic but yeah. I do.” You can only manage a tight-lipped grin in Wooyoung’s direction before taking hold of his underwear and yanking it down past his knees. A startled groan leaves him as cold air touches his stiff member, cock springing out to slap against the fabric of his shirt. The shirt doesn’t remain on for long as it is though, seeing as Wooyoung leans back and strips himself of the material without second thought. San makes a timely appearance behind you in that moment, hands running up your sides to tug your shirt off as he settles on the floor. You let him move your body into whatever position he wants while you keep your gaze firmly set on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung doesn’t maintain eye contact, however; he keeps his gaze firmly set on your body, trailing over the mounds of your breasts and the freshly exposed skin that’s left there now. His tongue pokes out to dart over his lips, and the hunger of lust gives him a newfound sense of confidence that has him leaning towards you. You sit up to meet him halfway — lips smash together in a clash of saliva and tongue, teeth clattering as they bump together. San works on pulling your pants away as well, leaving you full bare before both men, but he doesn’t give you time to be embarrassed or shy about the lack of clothes. He weasels his way between your legs and comes face to face with your now exposed cunt. A few strands of arousal are already present there just from the sight of Wooyoung’s hardened cock, which San laps up like a starved man.

The tiniest kitten lick has you whimpering, San’s hands latching around your hips and pulling you down to his chin. You brace yourself on Wooyoung’s muscled thighs. The skin is soft under your fingers, but the harsh touch has his muscles trembling and tensing under you. You dip closer to his crotch, eyes not leaving his for a second. He can only groan under his breath as you drag the flat of your tongue up his length. His cock is heavy against your tongue, a bit of saltiness lingering there thanks to the precum leaking from his tip, but you take it in stride and gulp the taste down as best you can. With a startled gasp, Wooyoung twitches in your mouth, and his hips buck up off the couch to thrust further into your wet heat.

“S-Shit,” Wooyoung mutters. He tries to still his hips to no avail because the more you move your tongue along his dick, the more he struggles to keep from jerking and writhing under your touch.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” San hums from between your legs. “Such a good little cock slut.” The words carry over your clit, sending rapid vibrations through you, and now it’s your turn to thrash from pleasure. You moan around Wooyoung’s length and squeeze his base a little tighter. Even though the ministrations from San are nothing short of amazing, you refuse to be outdone, especially when this is about Wooyoung and not you. Thus you choke back your moans and drop your mouth lower on Wooyoung’s dick, hollowing your cheeks as you bob along him.

He’s not exactly the largest – in girth or in length – but he’s most definitely a bit longer than San, as well as a tad slimmer. His cock has a slight curve to it, one that causes him to hit the back of your throat sooner than you expect, and it’s a struggle not to gag around him. Your throat does constrict a bit, but that only draws a moan from Wooyoung’s lips. He reaches up to cover the sound, clasping his fingers hard around his mouth, and you resist the urge to giggle at his flushed cheeks and embarrassment. Instead, you pull the flat of your tongue over him and explore the underside of his cock like that. You spend an ample amount of time just tracing each ridge and vein on him before pulling up to suck gently at his head. Wooyoung is especially sensitive there; he jerks and writhes the instant you start paying attention to the skin there, thighs quaking from the stimulation.

“A-Ah, wait, w-wait, I — fuck!” Wooyoung doesn’t get to finish his thought, and he reaches down to close his hand over yours, squeezing hard at the base of his cock until his member is flushed a deep red. The action catches you off-guard at first, but he doesn’t let you stay confused for long before he explains his reasoning. “D-Don’t wanna cum yet.”

“You won’t last long in me like this,” you counter through a smirk. Wooyoung’s cheeks bear a thin sheen of sweat now, which only enhances the blush across them.

“I c-can’t get it back up that quickly. If I’m gonna cum, then I want it to be in you.”

“Gosh, you’re such a smooth-talker,” you tease as you push your legs into a standing position. San doesn’t question it, merely slipping out from under you to move to another part of the room. You don’t bother to look back at him; Wooyoung holds all of your attention in the palm of his hand now. Confident hands fall onto Wooyoung’s shoulders, and you lower yourself onto his lap. A coy smirk plays at your lips, one that Wooyoung watches with rapt focus as you press his leaking erection flat against his stomach between your sweaty and naked bodies. “Makes me want you to fuck me, Wooyoungie.” You can’t keep from pushing your lips into a slight pout, hand snaking down to take hold of Wooyoung’s member again, and you jerk him with languid and deliberate strokes.

“Fu-uck, is she – is she always like this?”

“More often than not,” San chuckles from his new position off to the side, legs spread wide as he runs a hand over his own erection. “Just wait until you actually get your cock in her. Didn’t she sound so desperate and needy in the video?”

Wooyoung’s hands find your hips and grip the skin there so tightly that you can feel it bruising under his touch, but the slight sparks of pain it leaves you with are nothing short of delightful. It’s enough to cause you to let out a small whimper and clench your hand down hard on Wooyoung’s cock. That is all the incentive he needs to pull you up over his member. You guide him to your entrance without hesitation, moving as he does to meet his lips in a messy kiss. He pushes into you a bit then and exhales a small groan into your mouth that you eat up without hesitation.

“More,” you mumble against him and shove his hands out of the way. You push your hips body down as far as you can, taking his cock all the way into your tight heat. Wooyoung breaks the kiss to let out a choked gasp. He throws his head back, exposing the pretty tanned column of his neck, and you dive in without thought. Your teeth drag over the skin there with the intention to nip and bite at it, but Wooyoung runs a hair through your hair, gripping the base of your neck tight to tug you back and look you in the eye.

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you,” he all but growls, eliciting a sharp wave of arousal in your gut.

“Hard and fast like you fucking mean it,” you hiss. You grip his chin hard in your hand and pinch his cheeks together to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips.

Wooyoung takes your words in stride, securing your legs around him quickly before flipping you onto your back. A huff of air passes through your lips from the impact of hitting the couch cushions so hard, but Wooyoung doesn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath before he is pistoning his cock in and out of your cunt without any semblance of restraint or rhythm.

“Holy s-shit,” you exhale, biting back a moan just before it falls out. All you can do is secure your hands on the cushions beneath you as Wooyoung fucks you in a fit of passion and intensity. San must be enjoying the sight of you two based on the groans that slip out of his mouth, loud noises that accentuate your own and the lewd sounds coming from between your bodies. “Fuck me so good, Wooyoung, god, you feel so good in me. Want you to cum in me too, baby. Fill me up nicely, y-yeah?” It’s a miracle that you get any words out, let alone that many without endless stutters and gasps, but the effort it takes is more than worth it when you see the look in Wooyoung’s eyes. He doesn’t respond verbally; although he doesn’t particularly need to because his dick does all the talking for him in the way he fucks you deeper than before, searching for that treasured sweet spot of yours. It only takes a few thrusts for him to find it, and when he brushes over the sensitive area, you can’t contain your noises any longer.

You fling out a desperate hand in San’s direction, searching for some sort of contact from the man, but Wooyoung snatches up the limb instead. He tangles his fingers with yours as he fucks you, and it provides a delightful amount of intimacy that you were craving even when he pins that same hand behind your head to thrust into your tight walls at a different angle.

“You gonna cum, Y/N?” Wooyoung growls against the shell of your ear. He catches your lobe between his teeth, nipping at the skin in a way that has your back arching off the couch and into his body. It nearly tips you over the edge, but you hold on a little bit longer with sheer willpower to cum alongside him. “You’re so tight I can barely move.”

“Wooyoung,” you whine, writhing a bit under him as his thrusts slow down a bit. He shuts you up then and there with his lips and kisses you until you’re positively breathless.

“Cum for me, angel.” His gaze flits up to where San is sitting with cock in hand, eyes glinting dangerously for a moment. His lips touch the shell of your ear and fill it with soft pants that have you shivering. “And call out Sannie’s name for him since he’s being so good over there all on his own.”

It only takes one glance over to where San is perched for you to cum, the mere sight of him jerking his length with sweat on his brow and eyes firmly fixated on your body, and a hasty cry of his name tumbles from your lips. It must be enough to send him over the edge too because you hear him call out your name a moment later, then Wooyoung joins the two of you in sweet ecstasy, hips stuttering in their rhythm as warm cum fills your cunt. You’re so spent you can barely move or think straight in the blessed aftermath of your orgasm, but Wooyoung gets up rather quickly. He climbs off your body and steps over to where San is seated still. In the blink of an eye, he drops to his knees in front of the man – his best friend at that – and his mouth is on San’s softening cock, lapping up the evidence of his orgasm and the cum that splattered over his stomach. A giggle leaves Wooyoung’s lips as he pulls up again and swipes a finger over his mouth to collect any excess cum.

“That was fun,” he says with a smile. A straight row of glistening teeth sink into his lower lip. “And something we should do again sometime.”

“I doubt you’ll have to do much to convince us,” San mutters, eyes darting over to find yours. “Right, Y/N?”

“Sign me up.”

a/n: im sorry this took so lONG oidjfosij this was really hard to write for some reason so i hope it’s still good but yeet yes hello ;-;

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ficsandbits · 3 years

Text

Exhaustion makes a great Cupid.

Hey guys! BNHA has taken over my life recently so have some Aizawa fluff to help relieve my mind of it. I'll also be posting over on my AO3 here : > https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061130

Y/N is written as G/N (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 2,099

Like always, comments and feedback are always welcome and greatly appreciated! If you have any requests don’t hesitate to ask!

Enjoy! xoxo✌🏻💕🌻

Y/N was tired. So bone tired they could barely bring themselves to open their eyes to see who was calling. A week filled with night patrols and paperwork stopping any chance of sleeping in the day were starting to take a toll on their body. They rolled over and hit the answer button, putting the call straight on speaker.

"Hello?" Y/N's voice croaked out, the signs of just waking up still coating their voice.

"Y/N? You okay? You don't sound too good." Aizawa's cool tone rang through the bedroom. At their hum his concern grew. "Do you need me to bring you anything? I have a bit of time before class starts."

"No no." They stretched glancing at the clock. Y/N held back a groan noticing they'd only been home a couple of hours. "I'm okay. Just overworked. What's up?" It was rare for Aizawa to call first, especially on a school day.

"I was wondering if you could come and help me with some hero classes today? I think it'd be good for the kids to go up against someone with your quirk type." The concern from before had dropped but not disappeared. "It's fine if you're busy, we can fit it around your schedule."

"You're in luck, I have the day cleared." Y/N sat up and cracked their back, letting out a satisfied sigh. "What time do you want me?"

They heard Aizawa clear his throat on the other end of the line before he responded. "Around 11 would be perfect. Thank you for your help, I'll see you later." He hung up after the quick conversation, leaving Y/N to double take at the time.

They huffed, working out that there would be about 4 hours to get ready and make the trek to UA. Luckily they had an old hero costume hanging around somewhere, the current one not being in top form after last night. Y/N really would never understand how simple night patrols turned so ugly so quickly. They dragged their tired body out of bed, choosing to run a bath rather than shower hoping it would soothe their aching muscles. Y/N didn't trust themselves to leave on time and set an alarm on their phone for when they had to leave.

What Y/N hadn't anticipated was falling asleep in the bath and having to rush around just to make it out in time. Their drooping eyes and growling stomach made them extremely aware that they were lacking in both sleep and food. Y/N shot off a quick text to Aizawa letting him know that they were on the way, even though he was probably busy.

Y/N had first met Aizawa in high school, the two of them keeping their distance and not really getting to know each other. It wasn't until their later years that they had gotten close, soon becoming each other's close confidant. Aizawa's best friend was quite the competition but there was clearly a difference in the relationships. Y/N adored the loud man, finding him a hilarious comparison to Aizawa's calm and placid nature. They envied their friendship, always sharply reminded of their own friend, who had left to become a hero in a different area. Y/N spotted a group of children sporting hero merch and smiled gently, their eyes drifting shut for a brief moment before the train announcer called out for the stop. As Y/N stood the world tilted slightly and they quickly grabbed onto the nearest pole. An older lady placed a concerned hand on their arm, asking if they needed to sit back down. Y/N waved away the lady's kindness and got off as the doors opened, desperately hoping the dizziness was a one time thing. The walk to UA was more of a struggle than they had hoped, but they made it just in time.

Y/N phoned Aizawa to tell him to come and collect them. Y/N was in luck when he picked up and told them he'd be down to get them in a minute. They idled around preening for no real reason. Y/N found they wanted to look their best, it was the first time in a while that they'd be seeing each other in person and the thought gave them butterflies. Y/N took a deep breathe to calm their jittery nerves. They had been sure the crush they had on Aizawa was long over, yet here they stood with all the nervous excitement of a high school teenager. Y/N was snapped out of their thoughts by the man causing these feelings approaching them. They smiled brightly, their heart fluttering just seeing him in person.

"Long time no see! How long has it been now?" Y/N joined him as they walked back into school grounds. Aizawa clearly giving them a withering look. "Oh come on surely I don't look that bad." Y/N tried to joke earning a sharper glare from him.

He stopped, his arm coming out but not quite touching theirs. "How much sleep have you gotten in the past couple of weeks." Y/N turned to look at him fully, taking a quick note of the way his eyes softened so subtly. "And when was the last time you had a substantial meal. You look ready to drop are you sure you'll be okay in there today?" He got closer to them, peering closer at their sunken eyes. "I'm happy you said you'd come but I care more about your health than I do the lesson today." This time his hand came to rest on their arm, thumb stroking gently.

"I'm here now, I'll be okay." Y/N placed their hand over his giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I can change the lesson around, I won't put your health at risk." His eyes grew more stern the more Y/N protested.

"Shouta, I promise you I will be fine." Y/N removed his hand from their arm, holding it tightly in their own. "Besides you are the last person putting my health at risk." They mumbled the last part out bitterly.

There was clearly no love lost between Aizawa and the hero's association, so Y/N's bitter words were met with gentle acceptance. He caressed their knuckles one last time before letting go of their hand and continuing the walk. Y/N couldn't stop the smitten smile that formed on their face as they trailed behind him. They made light chatter on the way to the training grounds catching up on the many things they'd missed in the others life. Y/N showed off cool new scars they'd got and he sighed deeper at each one as their smile got wider. His concern was only growing the more they spoke but he couldn't express anything before they reached the training grounds.

He glared at his class waiting for them to calm down, not missing the way Y/N suppressed a smirk at the action. "Alright class we've got some active hero training. This is Y/H/N and she'll be helping us out with training today. If any of you want to spar just let us know and we'll arrange it, otherwise we'll be here to observe and help out." The class nodded and looked over to Y/N, all eyes scanning them.

"So this is what it's like being assessed by a bunch of children, it's scarier than I thought." Y/N leaned in to whisper into Aizawa's ear, enjoying the light chuckle he let out and downright loving the scent that wafted from him as he leaned close to whisper back to them.

"They're a bunch of scary kids, no wonder you're worried." He turned to his class stone faced, raising one scruffy eyebrow. "Well are you waiting for an invitation, get to it." He dismissed the class sternly, watching them scatter quickly.

Y/N walked around, occasionally stopping to critique or praise a students form. They were stopped by one student hoping to expand his knowledge on different quirks and how his would be useful against them. Y/N couldn't say no despite the pounding headache and almost constant dizziness. The two moved to a more open space in the grounds and got into position to start their fight. Before they could even begin Y/N's vision suddenly swayed and they became vaguely aware of the feeling of falling but blacked out before they could process it.

"Uh... Mr Aizawa! There's, um, Y/H/N's fainted." The young boy shouted out across the room to his teacher, confusion clear in his voice.

Aizawa turned, a frown plastered on his face wondering what he was talking about only to see Y/N lying on the floor with students stopping what they were doing to gather round. Panic clutched at his heart for a second before he began to make his way over to the scene. He moved quickly, hyper aware of the fact the floor was solid concrete and that Y/N went down with no support, the last thing he needed was them gaining a serious head injury whilst helping him out. When he reached them the first thing he did was check for any injuries, letting out a breathe when he found none.

"Take the class back to homeroom today's session is finished. You can use the time to study for your upcoming exams." He instructed the class lead whilst scooping Y/N up. "I'm going to take them to recovery girl to check for injuries. I should be back soon." He quickly left with Y/N, heading directly to the infirmary.

Y/N groaned as they came around, confused by the surroundings. They felt a weight shift on their side and turned to find Aizawa sat on the bed, hand coming to brush their hair back. Y/N sighed at the sensation their lips turning up into a smile. "Now this is a nice dream." Y/N croaked out.

Aizawa snorted at them, his hand coming to rest on their cheek. "It's not a dream Y/N, you fainted in the training grounds." Y/N's eyes snapped open as they struggled to sit up. Aizawa moved his hand to rest on their shoulder, pushing them firmly back down. "Oh I don't think so, you're in the infirmary and have been out for hours. Rest." His firm voice made Y/N sink back down into the bed.

"Hours? How hard did I go down?" Y/N rubbed at their temples, a dull ache working its way back into their head.

"Recovery girl said you had no outward injuries but were just too exhausted to wake up right away. We let you sleep it off." Aizawa's thumb started it's usual comforting circular motion on their shoulder. "I told you we could rearrange." He sighed, his grip tightening and his eyes closing.

"I honestly thought I'd be fine." They looked up at him noticing his strained jaw and screwed shut eyes. "I didn't mean to make you worry," Y/N reached a hand up to massage gently at his jaw. "I'm sorry."

Aizawa let out a long suffering sigh and leaned forward planting an almost shy kiss onto their forehead. Y/N's eyes widened as their face got hot at the gesture. He lingered for a moment before lowering his forehead to their own, eyes opening to look deeply into theirs. "There's never a time when I'm not worrying about you idiot." He pulled back to give them a gentle smile. "Next time just tell me. Come on let's get you some food and a comfier bed." He grabbed their hands and gave a gentle tug bringing them to sit up.

Y/N stood shakily, Aizawa there to take their arm and help them walk out. "I should get a taxi and just face the ridiculous fare huh." They laughed lightly coming to stand on their own, Aizawa not letting go of their hand.

"Don't be stupid. You're staying with me tonight." Aizawa stated as a matter of fact, smirking at the way Y/N blushed and tried to stutter out an excuse. "No excuses, your in no fit state to be making the trip back." He threw a look over his shoulder towards them as they trailed along shocked. "Besides I don't want to leave you alone right now."

Y/N moved closer, planting a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Thank you Shouta." He smiled and kept them close to him as they walked to his place.

#mha x y/n #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa x y/n #aizawa imagine #bnha imagines

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rusty-k · 3 years

Text

A Theory About the Saint of Duty

[HTN/TLT SPOILERS]

Hey TLT people--

There was a reddit thread about the Saint of Duty the other day (link), and I commented some G1deon thoughts of mine that’ve been brewing in my head for a while. I figured I’d bring them to the tumblr tag to open up some discussion and see if anyone else buys this theory, or honestly just to spread some G1deon love. (I imprint on minor characters; it’s a curse.)

This is more or less copied from my reddit comment word-for-word, but here’s some general thought on Gideon the First’s personality, and why I have a theory that he might’ve lobotomized himself like Harrow:

G1deon character thoughts

G1deon as we know him in HtN is likely very different from the man he must've been 10,000 years ago. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he changed significantly between the start of the Wake affair and the events of book 2.

More so than any of the other Lyctors, Gideon and Pyrrha seemed to have had this strong synergy going on. Unlike most necros, Gideon is a buff beef jerky man, and we see two rapiers in G&P's room. The winnowing/construct trial is also referred to as "Pyrrha's trial," which has always struck me as a curious detail and suggests to me that Pyrrha knew more about necromancy than cavs generally do. We know that the saintly epithets refer to the cavs, in general, but I don't think that was exactly the case for G&P; based on the previously stated, I believe they were both equally dutiful people, willing to throw themselves into each other's studies and share each other's skills.

Aug and Mercy were forced to rush their Lyctorization process because of their reckless cavs, and G1deon was next, but the fact that Pyrrha compartmentalized suggests they were closer to figuring it out than Aug and Mercy were--which I think is greatly due to the harmony of their relationship.

We know from what the other Lyctors & John have said that Gid loved and respected Pyrrha deeply. I wouldn't be surprised if the ferocity with which he threw himself into his saintly work over the 10,000 years emerged--at least partially, if not primarily--from his devotion to her. There's Pyrrha, the most spectacular cav and an all-around badass, and Gideon--having taken her to fuel his ascension--acting as John's attack dog with an intensity that would make her sacrifice worthwhile.

It's difficult to gauge how much Gideon actually enjoyed any of this; John seems to think he did, but I wouldn’t trust John for shit, and I'm sure John's understanding of G1d is heavily skewed in his own favor.

I think it's also important to consider Pyrrha's side of this story as it relates to G1deon’s current state, as well as the Wake affair. Her actions raise several questions. First of all, how long did it take for her to realize that she could take control of his body? How exactly did it happen, the first time? And how aware is Gideon? Does he have any inkling at all? Is there something more to his forgetfulness, something purposeful?

I have to imagine that in any case, Pyrrha must have gone through a lot over those 10,000 years. 10,000 years of odd sensory deprivation, which was probably hell for a fiery badass like P. 10,000 years of watching Gideon put up with John's bullshit, of watching the other Lyctors die off one-by-one and accumulate a host of mental, physical, and emotional scars. I'm convinced that Pyrrha's relationship with "duty" changed over the course of the years as she watched from this disembodied perspective, and that her "treachery" against John (her affair with Wake & possibly feeding intel to the BoE) was just a natural progression of that change.

When Wake factors in, I'd bet good money that the driving factor in both Pyrrha and Gideon's attraction to her is that she reminds them both of Pyrrha. Hell, Pyrrha even says this outright: "She was the most dangerous woman I'd ever met who wasn't me." I imagine that P's attraction to Wake, beyond this cool display of cockiness, also emerged from a sort of nostalgia--maybe Wake reminds her of what life used to be when she had a body, when she could fight and command, when she had a cause to occupy her energy. On G1d's side, he sees a woman who's dedicated and dutiful, even if it's for an enemy faction, and a woman who would undeniably make one hell of a cavalier (I think someone says this in HtN, although I'm forgetting who, so correct me if I’m wrong). I'm sure there's nostalgia in it for him, too.

Then, there's elephant in the room: Wake's fiery red hair and Pyrrha's name, meaning "flame-colored." I'm convinced that at least some of the similarities were physical. And at the bottom of it all is the inherent sexiness of finding a worthy opponent who's also hot. Lol.

Gideon Prime Lobotomy Time(?)

Here's where things get squirrelly for me, and the main reason why I have a theory that G1d's current state might be partially self-inflicted.

G&P were having discrete affairs with Wake, which inherently brings up logistical questions. First of all, how? And how exactly did Wake come to "kiss" Gideon "before she realized what they were?" How long were the durations of time in which Pyrrha kept his body under her control? In any case, after Wake & Gideon initiated their leg of the affair, it continued throughout the two years up until Gideon Jr.'s birth, which implies that Gideon Prime had some agency and willfulness in all of it. It's difficult to imagine the permanently-spaced-out-thousand-yard-stare man we know in HtN actively participating in such an entanglement.

Of course, I’ll acknowledge that it's entirely possible that I'm wrong, and that Wake just jumps his bones when she feels like it, and he's like "ok I guess," so take this as you will; but I'd like to put forth the suggestion that G1d's memory loss and overall lack of lucidity might be self-inflicted, to the tune of Harrow's lobotomy. We don't know how aware Gideon is of Pyrrha's presence, but it does seem to be the case that Lyctors having an awareness of the cav is dangerous for the cav. Being an accomplished necromancer, I'm sure Gideon was/is a smart man. Pyrrha mentions that she was "able to go underground" from him, but what if Gideon started to catch on to Pyrrha's presence through the double-affair? What if Wake let something slip? What if the thing that Wake didn't realize about them was the fact that Pyrrha's survival depends on Gideon's lack of awareness?

What if he lobotomized himself at some point, after catching onto Pyrrha's presence, at the expense of his sanity?

What really strikes me is the post-incinerator scene (HtN ch.31, pg. 292 in the hardcover):

The Saint of Duty turned his body toward you. He was clutching his rapier; but it was idle ... His eyebrows were very slightly drawn together, a sort of exhausted crinkle. He looked at you, and he said in a voice you had known since you were eight years old: "I sometimes--forget."

It was the tone--clinical, enamelled, half-defensive, half-endangered--the tone of someone admitting a final fraily. It was familiar because you had used it yourself. Understand I am insane.

It's his quiet resolution that does it for me; he knows something's missing, and he's accepted it. He's being set up as a parallel to Harrow in this particular moment, and it just makes me wonder if the parallel goes beyond his understanding of his own “insanity” and extends to the means by which he has become "insane."

Pyrrha's already being set up as a parallel to Gideon Jr., both in terms of her formerly-skewed sense of duty and her compartmentalization, so I think this sort of dual-parallel between G1d and Harrow would work nicely, if only from a meta perspective.

In short, I think Gideon the First's feelings on everything that happened are complex, fraught. I think "duty" is what defined much of his personality, and I think what we see of him now is the result of split senses of duty having torn him apart:

he's torn between his devotion to Pyrrha (and by extension, ironically, his devotion to John) and his interest in (and perhaps love for) Wake;

torn between John's command to kill Harrow and whatever it is that caused him to pull punches (I'm guessing a combination of basic decency and solidarity); and

at the end of it all, he's quietly accepting of his own "frailty," understanding that the current situation is the shitty result of everything that's happened over the past myriad, and that there's likely no way to set himself straight, even though his shortcomings put him in direct conflict with the man he's "supposed to be," according to this awful religion, and according to what others think of him.

Anyway, for those who’ve stuck around, that’s all I have to say for now! I’m just so fascinated by the Saint of Duty/the Pyrwakeon story that’s going on behind the scenes; there’s such an understated intensity to it, and honestly, it didn’t even hit me until months after my first read-through.

I’m curious to hear what other people are thinking, too!

#the locked tomb spoilers #harrow the ninth #htn spoilers #harrow the ninth spoilers #I have Feelings about G1d #and I want to spread them #and it makes me Sad when people dunk on that beef jerky shrinkwrap man #lol #don't even get me started on how devastated I am that he died off-screen

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hachichimitsu2 · 3 years

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ABOUT ME

Hachi ✨ 20 ✨ She/Her ✨ 🇵🇭 ✨ INFJ 6w5

Hello, I’m Hachi! I'm a full-time freelance illustrator on Fiverr, and I hopefully plan to branch out in other artistic areas in my life! Expect me to dump all of my artistic interests over here : #hachichiart

I also have a children’s picture e-book that I self-published on Amazon. I made it as a requirement for my high school thesis, so while the art there is definitely a representation of my past, I still stand by the message I was trying to send. I hope to eventually branch out this series in a form of a webcomic of sorts, for people who can’t afford to purchase my e-book for financial reasons. These characters are extremely dear to me, and I can’t wait to expound on them when I have the time lmao. Here’s a tag regarding the series: #behindtheartistichand

Some note-worthy things to mention, this blog is generally 15+, but I do make sure to tag any NSFW content and general triggers out there. I often post and retweet adult animation, so I’d say tread carefully if you’re a minor. I’m also critical with the media I consume, but most of the time, I like to talk about why I like something rather than why I hate it. I just find it more fun to expound on the positives of my favorite things. I also don’t take everything seriously.

Please let me know privately if I did or say anything wrong. Sometimes I say things without meaning to, and I’m not the brightest crayon in the box, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. If you take offense with anything I posted, just send a polite DM and explain why it offended you so I can be educated regarding the subject. I’m also available for any questions, DMs and a genuine chit-chat.

MAIN INTERESTS

1. Character-Driven Storytelling

2. Adult Cartoons

3. CGDCT / Slice-of-Life Shows

4. Pastel Goth / Creepy Cute Fashion

5. Coming-of-Age Stories

6. Magical Girls

7. Psychological Horror

8. Well-Written Children’s Media

9. RPG Maker Horror Games

10. Video Essays & Film Studies

11. Speed Metal / Vaporwave / Shibuya-Kei

12. K-POP / J-POP Girl Groups (Serotonin Babey!)

13. 4LT (MBTI), Typology, Cognitive Functions

14. All Types of Artistic Endeavors (OCs, FanArt, Comics, Film, Music, Fanfiction, etc.)

TOP 5 ANIME SERIES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

1. K-ON!!

2. Hunter x Hunter

3. Neon Genesis Evangelion

4. Ojamajo Doremi

5. Ouran Highschool Host Club.

TOP 5 CARTOON SERIES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

1. South Park

2. Bojack Horseman

3. Moral Orel

4. Ed, Edd n Eddy

5. Infinity Train

FAVORITE MOVIES

1. Interstellar (Favorite Sci-Fi Movie of All Time)

2. Nacho Libre (Favorite Guilty Pleasure Movie)

3. Johnny Got His Gun (Scariest movie of all time due to the sheer existential dread)

4. Studio Ghibli Films (Particularly Ponyo, My Neighbor Totoro & Grave of the Fireflies)

5. Perfect Blue (Favorite Anime Movie)

6. One Cut of the Dead (It’s hard to recommend this movie without spoiling it, but it’s an absolute must that you finish it in its entirety before you proceed to make any further judgments)

7. Coraline (I know almost everyone loves Coraline at this point, but it’s genuinely good.)

8. Interview with the Vampire (Favorite Vampire movie of all time that doesn’t seem overdone or cliché. It’s also really gay)

9. Get Out (2017)

10. Us (2019)

11. Up (2009)

12. Toy Story (Movies 1 to 3)

13. Hereditary (2018)

14. The Shining (1980)

15. Audition (1999)

16. Misery (1990)

17. The Green Mile (1999)

18. Shawshank Redemption (1994)

19. Saving Private Ryan (1998)

20. Mommie Dearest (1981)

21. The Others (2001)

22. The Platform (2020)

23. The Lodge (2019)

OTHERS

1. Homestuck (It’s been a good while since I read Homestuck, so my memory of the general storyline is fuzzy. I’ll re-read it once I have the chance)

2. When They Cry (Currently up-to date with the Higurashi anime and watched the live-action movies. Finally started to tackle the sound novels. Have yet to encounter Umineko and Ciconia)

3. Age of Youth (Favorite K-drama of all time.)

4. Squid Game (Battle Royale-type thriller series that tackles capitalism and the illusion of choice and free will? Sign me the fuck up)

5. Majisuka Gakuen (Favorite J-drama of all time. Also, yes, I’m biased because of my love for AKB48.)

6. Flight of the Conchords (Favorite live-action series of all time.)

7. Adult Cartoons (The Boondocks, Camp Camp, Superjail, The Oblongs, Bob’s Burgers, The Simpsons, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Home Movies, Beavis & Butthead, Daria, Smiling Friends, Aggretsuko)

8. FilmCow (I absolutely love everything they put out. Currently up to date with VuloLives’s broadcasts)

9. The Eric Andre Show (A good friend recommended me this show, and I haven’t stopped since.)

10. Nathan for You (My humor condensed into one show)

11. CGDCT / Slice-of-Life Shows (Sweetness & Lightning, The Amazing World of Gumball, Spongebob Squarepants, Gakkou Gurashi, Lucky Star, Gakuen Utopia Manabi Straight, Koufuku Graffiti, Hidamari Sketch, Pita-Ten, A Little Snow Fairy Sugar, Di Gi Charat, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, Yama no Susume, Shirobako, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, Saint Young Men, Gunslinger Girl, Kareshi Kanojo no Jijou, Osomatsu-san, Hey Arnold, The Peanuts, Arthur, Hibike! Euphonium, Nichijou, Asobi Asobase, Azumanga Daioh, Codename: Kids Next Door, Chowder)

12. Idol Anime (Love Live! School Idol Project, Aikatsu, Revue Starlight, Full Moon wo Sagashite, Pretty Rhythm, AKB600SEC // Will get into IDOLMASTER eventually)

13. Undertale (Will pick up Earthbound and Omori eventually)

14. RPGMaker Horror Games (Mad Father, Misao, The Witch’s House, Ao Oni, etc. Hoping to get into newer released games!)

15. Fictional Children / Adolescents Getting Trapped in Dangerous Scenarios (Digimon Tamers, Made in Abyss, The Promised Neverland, Alice Academy, Code Lyoko, The World Ends with You, Total Drama Island, Danganronpa)

16. Weird, Experimental or Slightly Disturbing Series (Serial Experiments Lain, Kuchuu Buranko, Invader Zim, Flapjack, Salad Fingers)

17. Shounen Anime (Yu Yu Hakusho, Mob Psycho 100, Dragon Ball Z)

18. Magical Girl Anime (Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Tokyo Mew Mew, Mermaid Melody, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, RWBY, Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt, My Little Pony, Princess Tutu, Powerpuff Girls, My Life As A Teenage Robot, Bee and Puppycat, Star vs. The Forces of Evil, Steven Universe // Will pick up She-Ra & The Owl House Eventually)

19. The Haunting of Hill House / Bly Manor (Don’t let the jump-scares deceive you. It’s a genuinely good character-driven horror series)

20. Sci-Fi Cartoons (Rick & Morty, Solar Opposites, Futurama, Bravest Warriors)

ROLE MODELS / BIASES / OSHIMENS / BEST GIRLS

1. Trey Parker & Matt Stone

2. Gain & Narsha (BROWN EYED GIRLS)

3. Hyuna (SOLOIST)

4. Sooyoung (SNSD)

5. Gyuri (KARA)

6. Hani (EXID)

7. Seulgi & Yeri (RED VELVET)

8. Sana (TWICE)

9. Yves & Olivia Hye (LOONA)

10. Shuhua (G-IDLE)

11. Yena (IZ*ONE)

12. Winter (AESPA)

13. SUZUKA (ATARASHII GAKKOU)

14. Shiroma Miru (NMB48)

15. Yabuki Nako (HKT48)

16. Takahashi Minami (ex-AKB48)

17. Kojima Haruna (ex-AKB48)

18. Shinoda Mariko (ex-AKB48)

19. Sayaka Akimoto (ex-AKB48)

20. Watanabe Mayu (ex-AKB48)

21. Shimazaki Haruka (ex-AKB48)

22. Matsui Jurina (ex-SKE48)

23. Sakura Miko (HOLOLIVE)

24. Natsuiro Matsuri (HOLOLIVE)

25. Oozora Subaru (HOLOLIVE)

26. Inugami Korone (HOLOLIVE)

27. Houshou Marine (HOLOLIVE)

28. Kiryu Coco (ex-HOLOLIVE)

29. Momosuzu Nene (HOLOLIVE)

30. Kureiji Ollie (HOLOLIVE)

31. Takanashi Kiara (HOLOLIVE)

32. VuloLives (INDEPENDENT VTUBER)

CONTACTS

• Instagram: @Hachichimitsu

• Twitter: @Hachichimitsu

• I take art commissions on Fiverr: https://www.fiverr.com/hachichimitsu

• I have a children’s e-book on Amazon. Make sure to download the Amazon Kindle app to be able to read it on your smart device: https://www.amazon.com/Behind-Artistic-Erika-Marie-Vargas-ebook/dp/B08789CW3V

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elisela · 4 years

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make my wish come true buck x eddie, g, 2k, fluff and sweet drunk boys for @madamewriterofwrongs because for once it wasn’t @tylerhunklin who said “yes write it” after sending me a TikTok

“Four,” Buck says. His head is tipped back on the couch, cheeks flushed, eyes bright—Eddie wants to reach out and touch him, to trace the lines of his face with gentle fingertips, to press his mouth against Buck’s and see if his lips are as soft as they look, if they would give way underneath Eddie’s teeth and thumbs and—“no, five,” Buck says, looking over at him. “Six? I dunno, Eds, s’probably time for water.”

“Probably,” he says. He doesn’t move. The kitchen—it’s so far away, and the couch is already tilting a little, pressing Buck right against him, his body radiating heat that Eddie feels down to his bones. He presses a palm down on the arm of the couch, but his stomach lurches as soon as he shifts forward and he gives up. “Gonna regret this in the morning.”

“Long way from now,” Buck says, and his head drops onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, Eddie. Truth or dare?”

“This is a bad idea,” Eddie says. He’s still sober enough to know that Buck’s usual dares take a dangerous turn when they’re drunk—it’s only happened twice before, but he can still recall how cartwheeling into the side of the house had quickly ended the game last time. Still. “Dare.”

“I dare you to do a handstand for five minutes,” Buck says. His breath blows out over Eddie’s skin as he laughs, seemingly already picturing Eddie struggling in his mind.

“Fine,” Eddie says. He still doesn’t move. “I’m gonna puke on your floor though.”

Buck’s arm slides along his waist as he twists, ending up with his face smashed into Eddie’s neck, his weight pressing Eddie back into the couch. “Nevermind,” he says, and he rubs his nose into the crease of Eddie’s neck, laughing again when Eddie tries to push him away. “I don’t wanna clean it—no, stay—”

Eddie relaxes, stops struggling against him, but Buck’s still got most of his body tucked against Eddie’s so he doesn’t feel bad about the hand he keeps on Buck’s waist. “S’this mean I win?”

“No,” Buck says. “I get a do-over.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too,” Buck says, poking him in the ribs. “You can’t just say you win, Eddie—” the way Buck’s lips brush against his skin drives him crazy, and he’s too buzzed to remember that he really shouldn’t be leaning into it, he should probably pull away, move himself across the couch and to a safer distance, where he couldn’t smell the shampoo Buck uses from the way his hair tickles under Eddie’s nose, “—uh, did you say truth or dare?”

He frowns. “Um. Dare?”

He always chooses dare. Buck somehow hasn’t caught on, but he’s not worried about Buck’s dares, all some variation of physical stunts that will likely result in one of them breaking a bone at some point if they keep it up. But truth—he’s heard the questions Buck asks Maddie, asks Chim. He can’t risk that Buck wouldn’t dig straight to the bottom of his soul if he got a chance.

“I dare you to get us water,” Buck mumbles.

“Okay,” Eddie says, and neither of them move for several minutes. Buck’s head gets heavier on his shoulder, and Eddie feels his own tilt down until his cheek is resting on Buck’s forehead. It’s—gravity. Alcohol. Nothing he’s doing of his own volition, just—”you still awake?”

Buck hums. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get tacos.”

His stomach turns over. “Pancakes.”

“Oh, those dumplings you like at that one place—”

“The one by—”

“No, the other one,” Buck says. “Think they deliver?”

“Not at three in the morning,” Eddie says. He doesn’t really know what time it is, but it’s been dark for hours now, so—maybe.

“You ever been to San Francisco?”

“Not since I left my heart there,” he says, and snorts when Buck makes a confused noise. “It’s—nevermind. No. Have you?”

“”m gonna take you ‘n Chris,” Buck says. “There’s a place, they have these green onion pancakes—it’s amazing. I dream about ‘em.”

“When’d you go to San Francisco?” He’s heard Buck’s life story, knows the trips he’d been on with his family, the route he’d taken through South America and up through Mexico before landing in Los Angeles. Nothing further north than L.A. had ever been mentioned.

“After Abby,” Buck says. “Drove up the coast, tried to get used to being alone again. Didn’t need to, I still got you guys.”

His throat is only dry because of the alcohol. God, he wants. He wants to tell Buck that he always has him, has Chris, that as long as Eddie’s alive he’s going to wait until Buck decides he wants him. He thinks—well, he’s never quite sure if he’s reading things the right way. There’d been the ghost of Abby, then Ali, then a long stretch of no one until Buck had started to make comments about dating, about finding someone, but—nothing ever came of it. And every time Eddie thought, this isn’t something just friends do—like this, this cuddling on the couch with Buck’s fingers pressing idle patterns against his skin—he’d turn around and see Buck getting just as close with Hen, his feet in her lap on the couch at work, or catch him flirting with other people.

It’s fine. Eddie’s just not used to friendships like this, such tactile, vulnerable relationships, but he can live with it, even if he constantly wants more, even if he sometimes would bet on Buck wanting more, too.

“You ever go?”

“No,” Eddie says, even though he’s pretty sure Buck had already asked. His hand is in Buck’s hair, somehow, scratching the pads of his fingers against Buck’s scalp. “Want to.”

“Let’s go,” Buck says. “Trade our next shift, we can take Chris—”

“Our next shift is Halloween,” Eddie says, and there is absolutely no one who will trade them if it means they end up working on Halloween.

“The one after that, then we have six days—there’s the bridge and Chris would love Alcatraz and we could drive up—”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Eddie says, a yawn interrupting his words.

“Cool,” Buck says, and Eddie can always tell when he’s smiling by how his voice sounds. “But ‘m still hungry.”

“Water.”

“Carbs,” Buck says. “Oh, sourdough bread. You think Uber Eats can bring it?”

“I think we should have water and go to sleep,” Eddie says, but again—he can’t bring himself to move. Buck is warm against him, soft and happy, and Eddie would stay awake all night if it means getting to touch him like this, getting to drop his chin down so that his lips almost brush Buck’s forehead as he speaks, a poor imitation of the way he wants to kiss him.

“You remember the sourdough french toast we had last Christmas? Where’s that? I want it.”

“Chris wants a dog for Christmas,” Eddie says, dropping his hand to the back of Buck’s neck and squeezing. The groan it draws out of Buck is enough for him to squeeze harder, and the little gasping noise he makes when Eddie rolls his thumb up behind Buck’s ear—“I think I’m gonna give in.”

“You should,” Buck says. “A big one. What do you want for Christmas?”

“Someone who will take care of a dog when Chris inevitably loses interest in twice-daily walks,” Eddie says, shaking his head. It bumps his chin against Buck’s head, and he catches himself just before he presses an apology kiss to the spot. “Dunno. It’s October, I haven’t thought about it. What do you want?”

“You,” Buck says sleepily. “And carbs. Maybe together, like, at the same time. Oh, you know those banana muffins you make and you make them into pumpkin muffins for Halloween? Do you have Christmas muffins? Like—wait, what would you put in Christmas muffins?”

“Maybe eggnog,” Eddie says, and then he blinks when everything Buck said filters through the haze covering his thoughts. “Wait. Did you—”

“Eggnog in muffins? Eddie, that’s gross.”

“‘s’not gross,” he says, because he makes amazing eggnog french toast—well, Sophia makes it, same thing—and he can’t see why eggnog muffins wouldn’t be delicious as well, but really there are more pressing issues here like “did you say—”

“You.”

His hand stills on Buck’s neck. “Like,” he says, slowly, trying to force reason through everything he’s had to drink tonight, “like—you want to spend Christmas together?”

Buck snorts, but he doesn’t say anything for a long moment and Eddie wonders if he’s drifting off to sleep, or if he’s having the same trouble trying to think clearly. “If that’s what you want me to mean,” he says finally, yawning. “You’re right, we should sleep.”

“I want to know what you meant,” Eddie says, and a second later Buck’s hand is cupping his jaw and pulling him down, tilting Eddie’s head as he brings him into an open-mouthed kiss; Eddie tastes the bitterness of the vodka on his tongue as Buck kisses him, swallows down the soft noises Buck makes, keeps his hands absolutely still against Buck’s body like if he moves it’ll break the spell. “If you forget this in the morning—” he says when Buck pulls away, and Buck laughs softly as he moves away, shaking out his limbs before standing up.

“I won’t,” he says. “Come on, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.”

“I—” can’t make that promise, he thinks. His lips are still wet from Buck’s kiss, and he shakes his head. “No, I’ll sleep here. Don’t—just—”

“You worry too much,” Buck says, “I’m a little buzzed but not so drunk I’ll—” he trips over an errant shoe as he passes by, and Eddie reaches out to steady him. “Okay, just because I tripped doesn’t mean—”

“Just go to sleep,” Eddie says. “Goodnight.”

“Eddie.”

“Goodnight,” he says again, because maybe he can forget—or not forget, but convince himself that one kiss doesn’t mean that much, that the thrill it sent up his spine was just because it’s been so long, that—

“Goodnight,” Buck says, and he bends down to kiss Eddie’s forehead before he stumbles his way out of the living room and up the stairs. “You can come join me when your back starts to hurt, old man.”

Eddie flips him off, even though Buck can’t see, lays down, and prays.

-----

“God,” Buck groans the next morning, cursing loudly when he runs into a chair and it scrapes against the floor, “death would feel better than this. I want coffee. Come make it for me.”

“Just because I cave to a ten year olds whims doesn’t mean I’ll cave to yours,” Eddie says, pulling his arm down from where it had been over his eyes, blocking the sunlight. “Do you have to have so many damn windows?”

Buck’s been up for ten minutes, talking loudly to Eddie the entire time, and it’s all Eddie can do to lay there and pretend like his heart isn’t breaking. He knew it, he knew, he should have—stopped him, or something. Should have let the “you” go unanswered, ignored it, realized that being lonely and drunk caused a person to do things they didn’t mean and make promises they wouldn’t keep.

He closes his eyes again as Buck walks over to the couch, lets himself be manhandled into a seated position while Buck sprawls out next to him. He can do this—it’s just the same kind of contact they usually have. He’ll be fine.

“Whatever,” Buck mutters. “Here, I want you to listen to this,” he says, nudging Eddie until Eddie opens his eyes and looks at him. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Eddie says, waving a hand weakly. He’s not sure what he expects, but bells and Mariah Carey in October is definitely not it. “Buck.”

“Told you I wouldn’t forget,” Buck says, leaning against him. “I’d kiss you again but something died in my mouth overnight—”

Eddie leans over and hits the pause button on Buck’s phone. “I’m telling everyone you played me All I Want For Christmas is You, you know.”

“Good,” Buck says, grinning. “It was pretty romantic of me, right?”

“I think we have a very different idea of what is or isn’t romantic,” Eddie says, but he turns his head to the side and presses a kiss to the corner of Buck’s smile, then another, and has to pull himself back before he does anything else. “Let’s go talk about it during breakfast. I’ll take you out.”

“It’s a date,” Buck says, and leans in to kiss him again.

#buddie fic #buddie #eli writes #more shit based on tiktok videos lets all be surprised #evan buckley #eddie diaz #drunk boys in love #yes i wrote what is essentially a christmas fic in september

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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years

Text

Fic: Sweet Talking

Summary: Rumpelstiltskin does not often leave the Dark Castle, but there are some things that magic simply can’t make correctly – things that he needs to purchase in person.

In which Rumpelstiltskin, Dreaded Dark One, has the world’s biggest sweet-tooth, and a standing arrangement with a blue-eyed confectioner…

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling February moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: G

Sweet Talking

Miss Belle, purveyor of sweets, toffees, and other sugar-filled comestibles to the denizens of the Enchanted Forest at large, knew that she was due a visit from her best customer, and she knew, from the person hanging around attempting and failing to look inconspicuous, that her best customer had indeed arrived, right on schedule.

She kept glancing over at the hooded figure feigning extreme interest in the candy apples whilst she served the other customers in her little shop. He really wasn’t doing much to be unobtrusive. If her mother was here serving with her, there was little doubt that she’d be shooing him out of the shop with a broom, believing him to be a thief hiding all their peppermint candy canes in his cloak and intending to leave without purchase.

As it was, Belle knew that he was just waiting for everyone else to leave so that he could perform his transactions in peace.

Who would have thought that Rumpelstiltskin, of all people, would have had such a fierce and almost unquenchable craving for sweets?

Belle took her time in serving the other customers. She would admit that there was a little bit of a thrill in making the dreaded Dark One wait. She wondered if he realised that in spite of everything about his reputation that she had heard, she wasn’t the slightest bit scared of him. No one could be scared of anyone who was so incredibly enthusiastic about candy.

At length, though, her other customers finished buying their sweets and left the shop, leaving her alone with her mysterious client. He had garnered a few odd looks from the others as they left, and Belle had to smile.

“It’s all right, they’ve all gone.” She laughed as he came over to the counter, still moving furtively and wrapped up in his cloak. “You know, for all you’re trying to hide away in there, you’re drawing even more attention to yourself than you realise.”

Rumpelstiltskin pushed the hood back a little way so that she could see his face.

“Who’s to say that wasn’t my intention?” he quipped. “The darker and more mysterious, the scarier I am, and the less likely people are to want to try and interfere with my extremely important business.”

“Extremely important,” Belle agreed. “Will you be wanting your usual order, then?”

“Yes please.”

He had come into her shop so many times over the last year since she had opened up that she knew exactly what he wanted down by heart. She’d asked several times if it wouldn’t be easier for her to just get everything measured out and bagged up in advance for him, and then he would only need to come into the shop for a moment in order to receive it, but he had refused. He had not given any reason for his refusal, but as Belle began to shake the sweets out of their heavy glass jars and into paper bags, she thought she knew why. There was a dreamy kind of hunger in his eyes as he watched and listened to them rattling in the scale basin, and it was the same kind of dreaminess that Belle herself had always felt when watching the cascade of dainty eatables. This experience was all part of the sweet-buying process; it just wasn’t the same if the sweets were already bagged and waiting. It lacked some of the magic.

Truth be told, Belle was actually rather happy that Rumpelstiltskin had decided against a pre-order system. Although she would never admit it to anyone, and least of all to him, she always looked forward to the time that he spent in her shop, however brief it might be, and she really didn’t want it to be any briefer. There was something about him that intrigued her, perhaps in place of the fear that she did not feel of him. They didn’t exactly share much conversation, but it was always fun when they did.

She finished measuring out his sweets and began to fasten the bags with ribbon. There wasn’t much point to it except idle fancy; just twisting the tops would have done well enough to seal them and she knew that he would probably dive straight in as soon as he was out of the shop, but it gave them more time together, and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t seem to mind the delay.

“You know, I’ve been wondering.” Belle didn’t know what had possessed her to give voice to the thought that had been rattling around at the back of her mind for as long as Rumpelstiltskin had been buying confectionary from her. She’d always been wondering it, and there was nothing particularly special about today that should lend itself to such conversation starters.

“You’ve been wondering?” Rumpelstiltskin prompted, picking a strawberry bonbon out of one of the unsealed bags and making to pop it in his mouth. On instinct, Belle reached out and batted his hand.

“You haven’t paid for those yet!”

For a moment, Belle remembered that he was indeed the Dark One and she had just batted at him. He didn’t seem particularly angry by the action, more affronted at the suggestion that he wasn’t going to pay. To make matters worse, Belle realised that her fingers were still resting on the back of his hand, and she snatched back as if she’d been stung.

“Sorry. I, erm…”

Rumpelstiltskin gave an explosive giggle. It had made Belle jump out of her skin the first time that she had heard it and it was no different now.

“It’s all right, dearie, no harm done.” He produced a couple of silver coins out of nowhere and presented them to Belle with a flourish before snaffling the bonbon. “There you are. Payment tendered.”

Belle gave an inward sigh of relief and put the money in the cashbox before returning to her ribbons.

“You were saying something,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “You were wondering.”

“Oh. Yes.” The little incident had interrupted her train of thought. “Yes. I was wondering why you come here to buy your sweets. I mean, surely someone like you has magic enough to make your own, a never ending supply.”

“I spin straw into gold, not candy canes, dearie.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I suppose I do.” Rumpelstiltskin didn’t answer her for a long time, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts.

“I think it’s because there are some things that magic just can’t get quite as right as the real thing. I’m sure that any facsimiles of your delectable confections would taste just as sweet, but there would be something missing. Something about them wouldn’t be quite… real.”

Belle finished tying off the last bow and smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear that my sweets are incomparable to magic. Maybe I ought to use that as a selling point.” She paused as she handed over the bags and Rumpelstiltskin began to stow them in the many pockets of his cloak. “And I’m glad that you keep coming back for more. It’s always nice to see you in here.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked up then, startled, and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a fish.

“I… It’s nice to see you too,” he mumbled, before vanishing from in front of the counter in a puff of smoke. That was unusual. Normally he waited until he was outside before disappearing, just as he never materialised in the shop itself.

Belle smiled to herself again. Maybe there was nothing there, but perhaps something could come of this strange little friendship.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #A Monthly Rumbelling #Belle French #Rumpelstiltskin #Enchanted Forest #Fic: Sweet Talking

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fy-yuqi · 5 years

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(g)i-dle - put it straight (say no) // (nightmare ver. _ queedom).

#idle #gidle #(g)idle #(g)i-dle #say no #queendom #song yuqi #yuqi #minnie #shuhua #soyeon #miyeon #soojin #put it straight

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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years

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Chapter 26

The sun had set long ago and they were all crowded around a card table in Louise Brooks apartment, the radio playing “Side by Side” by the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. Sipping a glass of bourbon, Louise was humming merrily along, but Nelly’s lips were set in concentration. She wasn’t a good bridge player by any measure, but the important thing was that she was getting better. They were in no danger of hitting a grand slam, but Buster thought they might be able to get a small slam out of the game. Keeping his eyes on their cards, he tilted his whiskey glass to his lips, emptying it.

“Top you off?” said Louise.

Buster looked at Nelly, who raised an eyebrow. “Not tonight,” he said, and saw Nelly’s shoulders relax. He kissed her behind the ear and saw her cheeks redden in the lamplight.

George laid down a seven of clubs, Buster threw in a five of clubs, Louise put in a four of diamonds, and Nelly swept the trick for them with a six of diamonds. George had a good poker face. Louise’s was skilled simply by virtue of the fact that she was usually in a good humor whether her hand was bad or good. Nelly needed to work on hers. She straightened her expression as if hearing his thoughts.

He’d been living a double life for years now, but with Nelly in the picture, it had lately become a triple life. Buster One was the gay host always ready for sport, drink, and good company. The quiet man left in the gay fellow’s wake was Buster Two, who never forgot that Lady Luck would decide someday to be done with him, and maybe soon. Buster Three was content to spend afternoons and evenings with his girl in her small apartment where she watched him work out gags for Snap Shots and sat patiently as he gave her bridge lessons. She found him pleasing in bed, and never complained that the only dance floor he led her across was her living-room carpet and their only orchestra the tabletop phonograph he’d bought her. As February gave way to March, his routine of visiting her apartment two or three days a week for a couple hours at a time seldom changed. Twice he’d taken her for a drive into the Valley, although that was always risky in case someone recognized his car as he left town and got to wondering about the girl in the passenger seat. Last weekend they’d had their first bridge game with George and Louise, the first time anyone else had seen them together. Nelly had had the time of her life.

Buster Three couldn’t help wanting more, though. He longed to take her to a picture or have her on his arm during a premiere or benefit, dressed to the nines. He imagined her warming his bed at night, swimming laps in his pool in the morning, and playing bridge games in the billiards room on weekday afternoons. He was finding out that a mistress was a funny thing that way. The more you got of her, the more you wanted.

He stroked her back as she looked over at his hand, deciding which card to play next. They could take at least five more tricks by his count, which would put them at eight. Whether Nelly would spot them was the question. They were playing for a nickel a point. He’d wanted to do quarters, but Nelly had complained about how bad she was and insisted on a lower bet, so he let her have her way.

It was now getting close to ten o’clock. He knew they’d have to wrap the game up in the next half hour if he wanted to be home by midnight. It was the first time he’d stayed out so late with Nelly and not told Natalie where he was going.

“Just Molly and me,” Louise sang in a soft, idle voice, examining her cards. “And baby makes three. We’re happy in my blue heaven.”

Nelly yawned and he rubbed her back. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home soon, sweetheart,” he said in her ear.

Nelly responded with a smile and he was gratified to watch her discard a three of diamonds in the next moment. He was pretty sure he could take the trick with a Jack of diamonds if neither George nor Louise played the Queen.

They left the apartment at a quarter to eleven, many nickels richer. Louise kissed Nelly goodbye on both cheeks. It made Buster happy to see the girls get along so well.

“How’d I do tonight?” said Nelly, as they walked through the darkness toward his Lincoln town car, holding hands.

“You’ll be able to play pro soon at the rate you’re going.”

She squeezed his hand. “Don’t tease.”

“Well okay, but we can start playing for quarters any day now.”

“Maybe dimes,” she said, laughing. “Maybe.” Another big yawn hit her.

“Don't fall asleep yet, you hear? I have things in mind for you.”

“What kind of things?” she said. From her flirtatious tone, he had a pretty good idea that she already knew.

“Let me take you home and I’ll show you.”

Though she was falling asleep on her feet by the time he parked on Genesee Avenue, she allowed him to walk her inside, persuade her onto the couch, and lift up her skirts. That gave her a second wind and she joined in the excursion with enthusiasm. When they were done and he’d buttoned his trousers back up, he watched her wander around the apartment in nothing but her garter belt and stockings, getting ready for bed. Apart from the nudie show, which he enjoyed tremendously, he found he’d missed watching her take down her hair and return from the washroom wearing it in braids, her cheeks shining from scrubbing her face. Tonight the routine was the same except that she was in the buff. He grinned, looking forward to having something to think about on Monday morning when the tedious conversations about Snap Shots resumed with the M-G-M brass and his surplus writers.

After Nelly had brushed her teeth, he followed her into her bedroom and watched her get into underthings and a pink sleeveless nightgown with ivory lace at the bodice.

“Sticking around to tell me a bedtime story?” she said, giving him an impudent smile.

He swatted her derrière in rebuke as she climbed into bed and drew the covers over her. “Sure. What’ll it be?” He sat on the side of the bed.

“I don’t care. Surprise me.”

“Once upon a time Charles Lindbergh flew over the Atlantic to find the prettiest girl in the world.”

Nelly giggled. “Oh, is that what his flights are about?”

“He gets to England. Nothing worth seeing. Same story in France and Italy and Indonesia.”

“Indonesia’s not in Europe.” Nelly was laughing, but her eyes had also closed.

“Who’s telling this story?” he said, tapping her shoulder. “So he gets back in the airplane, flies all the way across the Atlantic again. Gets to New York. All the dames he sees look like dogs practically. Well, he gets back into the airplane again and he commences to visit every state he can, Pennsylvania, Florida, Mississippi, Tennessee. You name it, he visits it. It’s no good. He never saw such ugly girls. Any how, he’s running low on fuel for his airplane and he decides to make a stop in Chicago.”

“Mmm,” said Nelly. Her lids were beginning to twitch.

“While he’s there he goes and sees the sights. He takes an elevator up to the very top of the Tribune Tower. Guess who he meets on the top, top floor?”

Nelly sighed.

“Miss Nelly Foster, that’s who. That’s how he found the prettiest girl in the world.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She gave a vague smile at the caress, but otherwise was out like a light. “G’night, sweetheart.”

He collected his jacket and locked her front door with the key she’d given him, which was in his pocket more often than not these days. It was half past midnight by the time he made it home. He half-expected Nate to be waiting in the sitting room or at the foot of the stone staircase demanding to know where he’d been, but the house was silent and dimly lit; he stubbed his toe on his way to the kitchen to see what Caruthers had left in the refrigerator.

Standing in the kitchen eating cold roast and cold cooked carrots from a priceless bone china plate a few minutes later, he was back to being Buster Two, bewildered that this could be his life. Buster wasn’t half bad at Shakespeare. The problem was that Nelly could barely recite her lines without laughing over his sober-faced version of Olivia, who spoke in a high, breathy voice. “Stay,” he would say, “I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me,” and clutch his hands in front of his heart so earnestly she would be in stitches.

“That you do think you are not what you are,” she’d answer, giggling.

She had a feeling he was trying to cut her up on purpose, but the straight face never faltered. After a half hour of practicing, Nelly called it a day. She would just have to learn the lines on her own. Buster seemed content to set aside the little green Arden Shakespeare edition of Twelfth Night. He drew his legs onto the sofa and put his head in her lap. She ran her hand through his thick dark hair as he closed his eyes. “You’re burning the candle again, Olivia.”

“Hmmph,” he said.

“Auditions are next Monday night. If I get the part, you’ll have plenty of time to help me rehearse my lines, I guess. The play doesn’t open ‘til the second week of June.”

Buster opened his eyes. “About that.” His brows were pinched.

“What?” she said.

“I’m leaving for New York on the seventh,” he said with a grim expression.

“Oh.” She’d known in an abstract way that Snap Shots took place in New York, but somehow she’d failed to imagine that Buster might shoot on location. Knowing now how he had traveled in order to film Our Hospitality, The General, and Steamboat, it was a conclusion she should have come to. “How long will you be gone?”

Buster sighed. “July. If I’m lucky.”

“How long have you known?” she said, wondering why he had waited to bring it up to her.

“Awhile. Before we started going together. Guess I just thought the day’d never get here.”

“I’ll miss you,” she said frankly, as she combed her fingers through his hair.

“I know,” said Buster. “I’ve been thinking about how to get around it. Maybe I’ll send for you at the halfway point or something. You ever been to New York?”

“Not once,” she said. She briefly considered the practicalities of traveling all the way across the country while trying to keep her job at United Artists and, if her tryout with the Los Angeles Players Company was successful, star in a play at the same time. She was also thinking of his wife, who would doubtless accompany him. Buster, always so honest and hopeful when he built castles in the air, plainly had not thought of this.

“Well, I got some good news, anyway. That was the bad news. Wanna hear it?” He looked up at her so earnestly that she couldn’t resist bending her head to kiss his mouth.

“Of course.

“I just rented a place just outside the M-G-M lot. A bungalow. Figured it’d save me some time going home every day. Plus you could stay the night. I got it all worked out.”

“Oh?” It sounded risky, but her stomach fluttered at the idea.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up and take you there after dark. We get up before the sun comes up and no one’s the wiser. I can get you over to United Artists in the morning.”

The scheme was more than a little hairbrained, but to Buster’s credit it worked. For two weeks before he left for New York, Nelly spent Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings at the bungalow. It was actually a double bungalow with separate entrances, the other half belonging to Edward Sedgwick, Buster’s new director, who used it as an office during business hours. Sedgwick’s half was always dark by the time Buster ushered Nelly through the door after nightfall, though. Buster’s side of the bungalow was a combination dressing room and gymnasium. The dressing room occupied the first room and contained a stove, refrigerator, and worktop so Caruthers could whip up meals. Like Sedgwick, he too was always gone by early evening, but left a hot dinner for two ready, never asking (or so Buster said) why he was cooking for two. The second room held weight equipment, a rowing machine, a punching bag, and other exercise equipment. Nelly had learned a few weeks back that Buster’s splendid physique was not the result of pratfalls, but of dedicated training. Off the gymnasium there was a small washroom, and at the back of the house a little bedroom with a double bed, a nightstand, and a chair. It was here that Nelly would fall asleep next to Buster, waking up more often than not in his arms.

The alarm clock would ring at a rude five a.m. and Buster would reach over her to silence it. Sometimes they would make love. Other times, Buster would fall back asleep and Nelly would watch him, letting him seize a few extra minutes before reluctantly shaking him awake again. Although he had every outward appearance of boundless energy when he was around her, she could tell in the droop of his eyes and the redness that occasionally invaded them that he was always tired. It was no wonder. There were bridge games with Louise and George Marshall, often stretching until midnight, and when there weren’t bridge games, he was practicing songs on the ukulele while she studied her lines, having recently gotten the part of Maria in Twelfth Night. In spare minutes, he’d tell her about baseball games, meetings with the M-G-M bigwigs, and lunches with other stars. He didn’t seem to have a second of his day that wasn’t filled.

One subject he didn’t discuss was his wife and children. It was as if that part of his life didn’t exist, though Nelly knew that he must spend time with them. At first, she hadn’t wanted to know about Natalie because it would have curdled her with guilt to think that she was monopolizing another woman’s husband. Now she didn’t want to know because her feelings for Buster had strengthened. She could almost convince herself that if she didn’t acknowledge that other part of his life, the fairytale that was their time together could stay in place forever.

And it was like a fairytale, even the ordinary parts, like Buster stumbling out of bed so he could go into the front room and make coffee. She loved his sleep-mussed hair and bare feet, the bleary way he groped for his pack of cigarettes and lit the first one of the day, how he would shrug on a dressing gown over his underthings—if he was even wearing underthings, which was never a guarantee when they were sharing a bed. While he was thus occupied, she would get dressed for the day and throw on a dab of lipstick and a quick brush of mascara. As the coffee percolated and Buster dressed, she’d make breakfast, either wheat cakes with eggs or steak and eggs. They always kept the curtains drawn, and if any early-morning peddler knocked on the door to attempt to sell Buster vegetables, soap, and any other number of commodities, she would creep to the back door and leave Buster to turn them down.

Despite their precautions, spending the night at the bungalow still felt dangerous. Nelly knew it would take only one pair of unfriendly eyes to spot them and the jig would be up. Buster, she thought, was much too casual on this point and she always made him double-check that none of his neighbors were peeping out of their homes as she hurried into his car between six and six-fifteen-a.m., depending on how long she’d let him sleep or whether carnal matters had preoccupied them for an extra ten minutes. Even so, it was hard to stay nervous with his cheery attitude. He had only to throw her one of his beautiful smiles, upper teeth straight and gleaming, and she would be set at her ease again.

Notes: Is this chapter too sentimental? Be honest.

I should warn you that because life is hectic right now for me, I’ll probably go down to an every-other-week update. I was away this weekend and got to working on Chapter 26 when I returned, only to discover I needed to add just two sentences to it. -_- Sorry for the delay. There are some anachronisms here and there will be in the future. Louise Brooks wasn’t in the States at this time. I think I did get the timing on the bungalow right, though. The opening part of the second part of this chapter takes place around March 24th.

#Buster Keaton #Fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #Silent film #Golden Age Hollywood

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bound-up-feelings · 3 years

Text

Ali G x fem reader

You Is My Bitch

Requested: @333fairies

Warning: Smut, Smut, and more Smut (I will have you know I am so damn proud of this, you don’t understand!)

(Heyo! So this took me longer than excepted, I am very sorry! I have had a busy week so I will be trying to get the rest of my requests out. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to leave feedback, it helps a lot!)

Now you had been living in the area for a good while now and though you didn't have very many friends you still somehow managed to create two good friendships. One was with a guy named Ricky, his friend called him Ricky c. And that friend, also one of yours was named Ali g. He was a very interesting person. He was always talking to you about anything and everything. He would visit you at work with Ricky and it was always the same routine. "Ay y/n! How is your day?" He says everyday when he stops by. Sometimes though he'll say "You talk about how much you hate it here, why don't you leave and come hang with me?" And every time you’d give the same answer. You need this job it was literally the only thing you had that kept you from losing it mentally. Yes Ali was right, you did hate it but it had good pay and nothing really happens. You wanted to go with Ali and Ricky but you had responsibilities.

But today Ali seemed to be really persistent. "Come on! You is the only friend I got that hasn't taken a ride in my car. You have to." He says as he leans forward and puts his ring clattered hand on top of yours. You sigh out and look around, no client in sight and your boss was most likely passed out in his office. "Well, he's probably drunk off his ass, I guess it will be alright." "Wicked!" He says as he runs outside to wait for you. Grabbing your jacket and other things you walk out. When you get outside you see his yellow car and him inside bouncing around to whatever song he was playing. You walk to the passenger side and open the door. Music blaring you slide into the seat. He turns it down and smiles toward you. "Ready for the best ride ever?" He says giving you a funky smile. You laugh and nod your head. Not that far into the ride, the music was turned up a bit and you both were laughing and having a great time. Until his "rivals" showed up. They wanted to race but he wasn't sure if he should with you in the car. You looked over at him "Well are you gonna race them or what?" He smirks and the race begins. When I say the race was intense but so slow, I mean it was really hilarious. After the "race" you both sat idling at a stop sign. "What we do now? I is bored." He says sighing out loud. "I don't know." "Want to go to me house and listen to my other music?" "Sure." He nods his head and quite literally high tales it to his house. When you both get there you walk in and he is instantly at the stereo system. After the song starts to play he turns to you. "This is my crib, make ya self at home." He says as he goes to sit on his dresser. You sit on his bed. You scoot over and lay back while patting the space next to you. "You want me sit there?" He says as he literally point to himself as if you were talking to someone else. You mutter a short yes and he walks over to you. He sits down and lays back. You both sit in silence as the music plays, neither of you moving or making a sound. He looks over at you, not realizing this you start bobbing your head to the beat of the song. Lip syncing to it as well he starts to look at your lips. Not sure if the moment is right or not he gets up a bit and starts to lean over you. You open your eyes after feeling the bed dip and see him above you. He staring at you, looking at your lips, eyes, neck, and then back at your eyes. No words are spoken, the music is drowning out and the only thing you can hear is his rapid breathing. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He leans down and places his lips on yours, at first its soft and gentle but then when he gets use to the feeling he starts to put more effort into it. Biting your lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth, You moan in response and wrap your arms around his neck. After doing that he fully seats himself between your legs. Beside the feeling of his joggers against you you can feel his hard on. Rubbing against your clothed area. You bite your lip to suppress the sounds that threaten to escape you. He leans up and starts to take off his jacket and reveals his red shirt underneath, which he also removed. You decided to mimic him and take your shirt off as well, which left you in your bra. He groans as he looks at your chest, getting slightly self-conscious you bring your arms to cover yourself but he grabs them and places them down at your side before leaning down and placing a gentle, sweet kiss to the top of your breasts. "You is beautiful love. Remember that next time yeah?" Next time? There was gonna be a next time. You remember what he said and nod your head to answer his question "Good girl. Now lift that ass up for me." He says as he unbuttons and grabs the side of your pants. You do as your told and he pulls them off in one swift move. Leaning down once again he kisses at your stomach and moves ever so slowly down your body. Reaching the hem of your panties. Instead of doing what he really wants he decides to tease instead. He goes straight to your hip and bites there, definitely leaving a mark in its wake. He smiles and goes to the other side and gives it the same treatment before making his way back. He gets to your neck and kisses all up and down the column of your throat. He even sucks a nice sized mark into your neck that would soon be purple. He slides his hands under you and unclips your bra, pulling it away from your body. You shiver at the sudden air that hits you. He smirks and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasp and grab a hand full of the sheet under you. He swirls his tongue and pulls away and gives the same treatment to the other one. When he pulls away he kisses your lips before scooting off the bed. When he does this he pulls down his pants along with his underwear. You moan at the sight of him. He chuckles at your shocked expression "Don't worry love, I be extra gentle." He says as he grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He smiles down at you as you begin to shake slightly. He cursed under his breath as he walks over to his dresser and begins to search through it. Finally coming back up with a condom and lube. "Almost forgot." He says as he tears open the package before rolling it onto himself. He pours some of the lube onto his fingers before gently running them up and through your lips. You shudder at the feeling and he begins to dip his finger in a bit, stretching you out to help better accommodate to his size. When he feels you've been prepped enough he squirts more lube onto his hand and begins to coat himself. After doing so he runs the tip of his member up and down your lips and pushes into you slightly. You moan at the feeling, you look up at him and see his face. Mouth open wide as he watches himself push further and further into you until he reaches the base. He stays there to let you get use to his size. He leans down and takes your lips with his. You moan as he moves slightly and you wrap your legs lazily around his hips. He places a hand on your stomach and the other moves to hold one of your legs. Slowly he pulls out of you and quickly thrust back in. Doing this quite a few times before he leans up and begins to pick up a pace that was quick, rough, and wanting. This wasn't like all the other times he fucked, this was you, your were special and he wanted this to be special and wanted it to go on as long as he could make it. As he fucked you you could hear the bed making creaking noises and silently hoped that no one would walk in on what was happening. Ali seemed to read your mind "Don't you worry, no one is here, so make all the pretty noises you want!" He says as he punctuates it with a particularly hard thrust that hit you just right. You let out a whimper and a moan follows after. He tilts his head back and lets out a few groans of his own "Fuck...your so fucking tight! You just right for me ain't you." He says as he continues his assault on your g-spot. You cry out as a few of his thrusts hit you in the right places. He takes his hands away from your stomach and leg and places both of them on your breasts. He massages them as he lets out a low moan that makes you let one out as well. The smile that was plastered on his face soon falters as he feels the knot in his stomach tightening "Oh shit...I think I'm gonna cum soon." "Me too...Please don't stop Ali!" He doesn't, yet he speeds his pace up and leans down so he's face to face with you. Kissing you with so much want you can practically taste it. He then starts to repeat the words "Fuck" over and over again. You can feel him throbbing inside of you. He can feel you tightening around him, when your orgasm washes over you, you tighten around him even more, which causes him to let out a strangled moan and then he releases into the condom. He jerks and shudders as he gives a few more sloppy thrust. Then he stills. His face was buried in your neck. He kisses up it and pecks you on the lips before pulling out and with the little bit of strength he has he scoots you up the bed. Walking back over to his dresser he grabs a few tissues and wipe himself off before doing the same for you. After throwing them away he walk back over and pulls a blanket from the ground and over both of you as he lays down next you. Smiling he wraps an arm around you as you snuggle closer into his warm body. The feeling alone makes you sleepy and you close your eyes, while listening to his heartbeat. He kisses the top of your head. "I hope we is gonna do this again. I had fun and I don't want this to change anything between us?" "Why would it change anything. This was amazing." You say as run a hand over his ribs. He smiles and lays his head against yours "Does this mean you is my bitch now?" You lazily look up at him with a 'Are you serious look' He shrugs "I is just wondering, I did just fuck you, so it is now confirmed that you is now my bitch." He says with a serious look. Shaking your head you lay back down. Closing your eyes, he does the same and you both fall asleep.

(Hello again, so like I said before I hope you liked this and if you did please leave feedback it help a lot! Anyways have an amazing dat and stay strong!)

#ali g x reader #ali g imagines #ali g #ali g indahouse #sacha baron cohen #smut

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