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skzsauce01 · 3 years

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Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’ are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

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authorkun · 3 years

Text

[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (001)

Jujutsu Kaisen x Male reader

Warning: Mentions of su!cide, gore, violence, and strong themes

"𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨."

A smooth honey like voice dripped with interest of the vessel that stood before him. The male's eyes casted down before traveling back up the first year's torso. He licked his lip at the sight with a smirk.

"Oya? Oya? N/n-Chan where did you come from? You were supposed to be in Hyogo." A blindfolded sensei questioned. N/n, or better known as M/n sent a small wave at his underclassmen, who gaped at both his sensei and senpai with wide eyes. "Oh the other second-years would love this." M/n took out his phone and and started taking an array of photos of Megumi.

"Anyways, I was, heard there was a SGP (special grade problem) going on. Thought I'd check it out. You too?" He lazily draped himself against the older. "The elders complained about putting my abilities to good use." Gojo chuckled remembering the annoying email from the secretary. "Anyways, who's this?" "Yuji Itadori sir!" The pinkette quickly bowed. A hearty laugh bubbled in M/n's throat at the formal honorific. "Get up no need for that, cause a nice senpai like me cares for underclassman." The male proudly pointed to himself.

"M/n L/n. Say where is the cursed object anyways?" Itadori sweat dropped. "Well I ate it." "Damn the kid has balls." M/n bluntly stated making a certain raven haired sorcerer flustered at the vulgar statement. "So how's Sukuna, or whatever his face is?" The (e/c) orbs analyzed Itadori looking for any sign of the curse. "He's annoying, he keeps on talking." Tapping his head with his palm signaling the telepathic link. "10 seconds."

"Huh?" "Come on back after 10 seconds." Gojo reiterated. "I dunno about this." "Don't worry I'm the strongest." M/n playfully rolling his eyes. "And if it gets out of hand, I'm stronger." "Megumi, hold onto this will ya." Gojo tossed a paper bag towards him. "Can you also hold onto this? It's killing my back." The second-year threw a heavy duffel bag Fushiguro's way, almost knocking him out. "What's this?" Megumi's eyes lingered on the white bag. "Kikufuku Mochi." His eyebrow twitched at the information. 'He was buying souvenirs, while people were dying?!'

"Aww Megumi they're not souvenirs. They're for the bullet train back." Sukuna was suddenly in the air about to pounce on the 'unsuspecting' male. "Behind you!" Fushiguro yelled worriedly. Gojo dodged getting close to the curse's ear. "Two of my students are watching so, I hope you don't mind me showing off." He turned sending a blow towards Sukuna's back, making him stumble. 'He's unbelievably fast. Not only that-.'

"It doesn't matter what era it is, you guys are always a pain you stupid Jujutsu sorcerer! He dryly laughed. "But that doesn't matter to me." With a flick of his wrist chunks of concrete flew towards Gojo. Who when the dust cleared stood unscathed holding the rubble as nothing. "Should be about time." M/n clicked his tongue, while filing his nails next to Fushiguro. The markings on Itadori's body disappearing. "What a surprise! You can control it!" He yelled. "He's kind of annoying though." Itadori repeated.

"It's a miracle that's the only side effect." With that, the older tapped his head knocking the first-year out. "Aww booooo I was looking forward to annoying Sasuki more." The M/n whined like a toddler throwing away his file. "What did you do?" Fushiguro asked ignoring his senpai. "He's knocked out." Gojo stated holding onto the passed out male. "I though you were smarter then that Megumiii." The two once again ignored the manic (h/c-ette). "If he wakes up and isn't possessed...he might have potential as a vessel." He reasoned. "Quick question what do I do with him?" M/n sweat dropped. "Even if he has potential, under Jujutsu regulations he must be executed..." He drawled off. "But I don't want to let him die!" Fushiguro finished with a determined look.

"Is that a personal opinion?" M/n playfully teased. "Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it." "Hmm a precious student's request." Gojo scratched his chin in 'thought'. "Leave it to me, and your senpai!" He exclaimed. "So with that, let me reiterate...you're gonna be executed." The blindfolded teacher waved his hands around in finger guns. "This story doesn't make sense so far." Itadori grumbled. "Hey, Man, I tried. An execution is an execution, but I managed to suspend the sentencing."

"A suspended sentencing? So it's on hold now?" The pinkette questioned. "Yup. Let me explain from the top." Gojo went to grab something out of his pocket realizing it was gone. "Looking for this?" M/n's form came out of the shadows, holding up the shriveled appendage. "This look familiar?" Itadori raised a brow. "Another finger?" "Ding ding ding. You want a cookie or something?" M/n leaned on his sensei's shoulder aggravating him even more. "Its the same cursed object you so voluntarily consumed. There's 20 total, we're in possession of six." "Twenty? Oh, including both arms and legs." Nodding his head in understanding. "Wrong, Sukuna has four arms." M/n stated nonchalantly tossing the finger up for Gojo to blast towards the wall creating a small crater like hole. The finger looked unscathed. "As you can see, you can't destroy it. It's that powerful of a curse.

With every passing day it gets even stronger." The (h/c-ette) moved from his place wandering behind Itadori, the hot breath on his neck made himself shutter. "That's where you come in. You die, the curse in you dies as well." M/n moved back rocking back on his heels. "The Elders have a stick up their ass and wanted to kill you right away. My dear Gojo and I thought it be a waste for a pretty face like you to offed yet."

A small pink flush dusted against Itadori's cheeks. "There's no guarantee that another vessel able of controlling of Sukuna will ever come around again. So... our proposal was, "if we're gonna kill him, why not after he takes in the rest of Sukuna". Killing two birds with one stone really. Your two choices right now are either to die now or wait to find the rest of Sukuna and die then." An intimidating aura surrounding M/n.

The next day

"Who died?" M/n asked picking at his nails, feeling oddly uncomfortable around the place heavy with death and sadness. "My Grandpa,he was more of a dad I guess though." Itadori hung his head. "I see, sorry to bother you at a time like this." Gojo apologized sitting himself next to the male. "Are there a lot of casualties with curses like this?"

"This is a pretty uncommon circumstance...But if you're talking about potential damage, yes." In the corner of Gojo's eyes he could see M/n's hand start to tremor. "...Let's just say, you're lucky to die normally after an encounter with a curse. Finding a body torn in two is still a light death compared to the others..." M/n stare burned into the bench a few feet in front of them. Walking off as flashes of blood painting the walls continued replaying in his head. "What's wrong with him?" Itadori asked looking off towards where the male went off to. "Not many things are known about M/n. Supposedly during a special grade case, they had found a witness around the age of 7 standing in the middle of what was assumed his family. The report was hard to read not much about the kid except the crazed look in his eyes and the astronomical amounts of cursed energy spilling from his body.

The case was left unfinished because they couldn't understand what exactly happened. The one account from the boy saying that it was a monster who killed his family. Of course when they checked there wasn't a sign of a curse. The elders shut the case down and took in the kid in, fear of his powers haunting them. From what I know, he was taught by the principal himself how to control his cursed abilities. When I was in my last year, I heard about an incident including the boy with a special grade. It had changed him from an outgoing and friendly person to a husk of one. He distanced himself and gained the liking of inducing pain on himself. He's strange that's for sure." A vision of a preteen M/n slitting his arms for an 'experiment'.

He claimed the experiment was to figure out how many cuts he could endure before passing out. Itadori stared at the older with an opened mouth. An image of the bandaged male popped into his head. 'Bandages'. "When I saw him pass in the hallways smiling like no tomorrow, made me think if the incident had never happened to him..."

"...He would have a normal life" he finished the other's sentence. "But that kind of thinking is common when you first get into the game. You learn how to ignore those thoughts. Those thoughts alone could drive a man insane. If you start investigating the remains of Sukuna, you'd probably some gruesome scenes, every sorcerer has their case that changes them wether it be for the best or the worst. Pick your hell."

"If Sukuna is eliminated, will there be fewer people killed by curses?" Itadori's grandpa's words rung in his head. "Of course." Gojo nodded his head. "You got that other finger?" "Yeah." Gojo placed the object in his hand. Itadori took a second to study it. "Now that I look at it it is pretty disgusting." He said tossing the appendage into his mouth absent mindedly swallowing it with a gross gulp. 'That's one tenth of Sukuna, how will that sit?' Black marks appeared on his body before leaving as quickly as they came. "Blaughhh, that was so gross." The male wrapped a hand around his throat at the taste. 'He's able to control Sukuna without a problem, heh.' Gojo thought. "I take it you're prepared for what's to come?" "Not at all. I am wondering why I have to be executed though. But I know I can't leave this curse alone. It's final, I'm gonna eat the rest of Sukuna. That's all"

"Yahooo! I'm back!" An overly enthusiastic voice emerged. M/n ran over waving his hands around. A bag slung around his shoulders. Something seemed off. An evident bruise starting to form around his neck peeking out from the loosely wrapped bandages. A cut lip and a few more scrapes littering his face. "What happened?" M/n shrugged still smiling. "Just a fight, this delinquent looking guy said he had a bone to pick with me, he had his fun....and so did I~" He took out his phone, shoving it into both of their faces. Sure enough a buff looking male was in tears, tied up. "The old wasabi and mustard up the nose always works like a charm." M/n shoved the device back into his coat, before handing the paper bag over to Gojo who quirked his brow.

"I went on a little trip into town and got you this~" The male's hands roamed around the bag pulling out a box. "I saw this delectable Mochi stand and turns out their family were from Sendai. What's the chance they made kikufuku? I got them for free since the owner was an old friend. Told 'em it was a gift for someone special." He winked at the end. Sukuna lowly growled barely loud enough for Itadori to hear. 'What's your problem?' 'Shut it brat.' Sukuna coldly snapped.

"This is why you're my favorite second-year." Gojo chuckled as if he were a grade school girl. "Looks like it's shaping up to be a fun hell. Get your belongings together by the end of the day." He turned towards Itadori, Megumi now standing behind him. "We goin' somewhere?" "Tokyo." Fushiguro answered with a battered face. "Ah! My little Meg-Chan is back!" M/n attacked the poor male in a tackle like hug. Snuggling his face further into the first-year's chest. A red hue danced acrossed the ravenette's face, as Gojo secretly took pictures.

Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School The walk to the school was quiet, the only noise being the light chatter being shared between the two with occasional comments from M/n, who's interest was glued to a small book in his hands. The quietness of the curse had caught Itadori off guard, causing questions to form about his weird behavior. Sukuna seemed to keep his gaze fixed onto the object held by the other. 'The book he's holding..' Itadori's eyes flickered over to the small piece of literature questioning it's importance. "What are you reading?"

"Just an old book I'm rereading." The male had answered turning to the next page. "If you have already read it why are you reading it again?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him. "A good book never gets old no matter how many times you read it." What confused Itadori, is why Sukuna was so fixated on the older. A soft thud sounded out as M/n closed the book, placing it back into his pocket. "Anyways, you're about to have an interview with the principal." "The principal?!" He exclaimed confused.

"There's a high probability he could reject you so make sure you go all out." M/n said once again picking at his nails in amusement. "What then! Immediate execution?" He snapped making the former quirk a brow at his statement. A small mouth formed onto his cheek.

"So you're not the boss? Pathetic, a hierarchy that isn't based off of strength is worthless." Itadori slapped a hand over his cheek, keeping Sukuna from further speaking. "I'm sorry about him, he pops out." "You have quite the amusing body now." M/n cheekily said. Another small mouth popped out, this time located on his hand. "I owe you a favor you know."

"Not again!"

"Once I make this brat's body my own, you'll be the first one I kill. The male next to you will once again be my king when I take my crown back." M/n crossed his arms in confusion.

"It's an honor to be targeted by Sukuna himself, but what do you mean 'your king once again'?

"Have you ever wondered what caused the incident ten years ago? And why the Elders were so keen on raising him?" The mouth disappeared leaving both Gojo and M/n astounded at the new information.

'How does Sukuna know about that, and why did the elders drop the case as if it were nothing.' "You wouldn't do that would you senpai?" A hopeful smile painted on Itadori's face. "...." The words couldn't form as M/n stood wide-eyed at the curse's words.

'I wouldn't, would I?...'

#jujutsu kaisen #seme male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #itadori yuji x top male reader #jjk itadori #jjk fushiguro #jjk nobara #zenin #inumaki #sukuna ryomen x male reader #dazai osamu #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #top male reader #suicidal maniac #jjk

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Eunoia

The Mantis crew decides to take a well deserved break. Word Count: 2422

Warning(s): straight fluff, short Requested: yep This can be read for a female, male, non binary, or any other reader.

Eunoia is the shortest English word containing all five main vowel graphemes. It comes from the Greek word εὔνοια, meaning "well mind" or "beautiful thinking”. It is also a rarely used medical term referring to a state of normal mental health. In rhetoric, eunoia is the goodwill a speaker cultivates between himself and his audience, a condition of receptivity. In book eight of Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle uses the term to refer to the kind and benevolent feelings of goodwill a spouse has which form the basis for the ethical foundation of human life.

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･ *

Cal is actually not as observant as people think he is. You know because you’ve been leaning against his doorway, watching him, for about two minutes now and he hasn’t noticed a thing.

Maybe if you were in his position you’d be the same. That seems about right. He’s hunched over his desk with the lamp on bright, tinkering with something that you can only assume is for BD-1. He’s probably lost in thought. Maybe he’s dreaming of better days. Or maybe he’s just trying to figure out which wires and bolts connect to which. There’s no way to be certain from your position. He’s the mechanic, you are not.

So why have you been watching the redhead from his doorway for three minutes now? A simple answer. He is your friend, and you enjoy his company. Even when he’s not giving you attention, completely unaware to your presence in moments like this one, lost in his own world, it’s his warmth that really counts. Cal is such a relaxing bout of fresh air compared to everything else in the galaxy, in your life. It’s like being at a great party, but whether you enjoy it or not, stepping outside and tasting the air and the smell of something wonderful. Even if you had a day full of talking to people and had become burned out, talking to Cal would have been no problem at all. Maybe in a way that makes him your favorite person.

Yeah, maybe.

BD-1 jumps onto Cal’s desk. His head looks at the boys hands, cocking about as if observing. Then he meets your gaze, only to find a smile. One index finger raises to your lips, prompting the little droid to stay quiet about this, before you turn away and head towards the main part of the ship.

“Where’s Cal?” Greez gruffs upon seeing you. He’s shaking spice onto a steaming brown plate, which puts a pep in your step. Greez’s cooking always makes life better.

“In his room,” you answer. You turn from the doorway to the counter, where something hot does cause stringy, swirly puffs of air to waft upwards from a large metal container. With your back to Greez, you pull a plate for yourself and begin hulling it full of food. Some sort of rice or grain?

“Hmph, that reminds me,” the Latero begins mid-chew. “Me and Cere was talking about taking a vacation.”

“Vacation?” you scrunch your eyebrows and put the lid back on the container. “Where to?”

“The beach maybe?”

You scoff as you turn around and lean on the counter. One hand holds the plate while the other uses your index finger to prod at the mush. It smells alluring. The individual pieces of it stick to your skin. They burn and sting, but it’s so small it doesn’t bring much of a reaction. “I don’t know a lot of beaches.”

“Well, ya know,” Greez shrugs. “Just a thought.”

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･ *

It was more than just a thought. Six days later, the Mantis touches down on Scarif. But first there’s the issue of landing.

“Watch that tree,” you point, leaning over Cal’s shoulder as he co-pilots beside Greez. A second later, the ship gives a great rock and the palm tree crunches beneath it. “You weren’t watching the tree.”

“Sorry,” Cal offers sheepishly.

“What?” Greez says. He’s the one in main control of the ship. He’d never let Cal take over the whole thing. “What he do?”

“Ran over a tree,” you snort.

“Cal!” Cere scolds, turning around in her chair.

“I said I was sorry!” Cal defends.

“I’m telling the wookies what you did,” you whisper.

“Don’t,” Cal whispers back, though it’s still desperate.

The Mantis parks itself in a field of tropical emerald on the cuff of a beach. The sand is white, the waves cyan and royal blue and sloshing. There’s several beaches on the planet. All of which are very beautiful. Would be a true shame if anything were to ever happen to Scarif. It’s so different compared to so many other planets in the galaxy- not occupied by Imperial forces or scumbags.

Greez waves everybody off. Cere exits first. Cal is ahead of you, but he steps to the side and rather gentlemanly insists, “You first.”

You hum and move past him. The Scarif air hits your face with a warm breeze. It smells of salt and water and some kind of flower. The horizon goes orange and pink and salmon with the setting sun. It is... serene. It nearly knocks you off your feet. It takes his voice to realize Cal is beside you at the bottom of the ramp.

“Woah,” he offers simply, in as much awe as yourself.

“Woah,” you repeat in agreement. It’s still for a second. “Come on. Let’s join them. Or else I’ll have to cast a Jedi mind trick on you.” Your fingers wiggle up and down by Cal’s face for dramatic effect.

Cal rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he utters with a push on your elbow, urging you forward into the sand.

Okay, so maybe you like Cal more than just a friend. But who can blame you? Things had been feeling different between you two lately. You’d always gotten along pretty smoothly. You made up for skills that Cal seemed to lack himself, and his abilities- human and nonhuman- never ceased to amaze you. He was a friend. And then, when you tended to the stab wound he’d gotten from Vader, there was a moment where you held each others eyes. After that, the joking became more constant. The little touches on the shoulders and elbows and forehead taps happened more often. And you started watching him from his doorway sometimes and... and at some point you just caught feelings.

Cal Kestis seemed to feel the same, but who could really say? No use poking that bear right now.

The sand is soft, even beneath your boots. Cere stands in front of the water, just breathing in the air. The light breeze makes her vest ripple. It’s tempting to just join her.

“Gotta say,” you hear a familiar voice say from your left and below. “We picked a nice place.”

“Maybe we should stay a while,” you joke, though you secretly hope for it, to Greez.

“Yeah,” Greez rolls his eyes. “Until this moron gets us into trouble again!”

Cal perks up. “What did I do?”

“Anybody who can lift things with their mind is gonna attract some attention, kid. You just brought it on us.”

“So true,” you jump on with a smirk to Cal.

“Alright,” Cal turns away towards the beach. You position yourself so you’re closer to him, and Greez takes the opportunity to waddle away further ahead to waves.

“Sorry for bursting your bubble, Cal,” you continue with a smug grin. “Maybe in the next life, don’t be born with force powers? Just a suggestion.”

“You think you’re so funny,” Cal tells you, though he’s smiling too. His pale green eyes spare a glance at you, thick lashes dancing on his boyish face.

Your knees bend until you collapse on your bottom in the sand. It’s so soft, it doesn’t even resist your weight. It makes way for you easily, like a blanket. “I do.”

Cal joins you in the sand quickly enough. You’re both face to face, the wind in your hair and the water at your side. It crashes every few seconds, but it’s peaceful. Some kind of bird flies overhead, and butterflies are in the forested area behind you. The light of the sunset illuminates Cal’s hair more than usual. The brightest points of his eyes are highlighted.

“He loves you,” you offer.

“You think so?”

“I am one hundred percent certain... Just don’t touch the ship.”

Cal raises his hands as if surrendering. “Understood. Hands off.”

You turn your head to the water. Greez and Cere are standing ahead, most likely having a conversation of their own. The tide carries so much of the stress your shoulders hold away from you. Everything with the holocron, the empire- it was ridiculous what living in hiding could do to a person. It’s hard to imagine how Cal did it for so long. How painful that must’ve been for him. How painful it is to imagine him in pain.

“How’s your stomach?” you decide to ask at last.

Cal tilts his head for a second. “Better.”

“Perfect?” you raise your knees to your chest and rest your arms on them.

Just then, a little whirring noise pulls both of your attentions away. BD-1 bounds down the ramp of the ship, twirling around in observance as if excited. “Hey, BD,” Cal greets. “I know, buddy. I know.” The droid places itself in Cal’s lap, still looking around at the change in scenery.

“We’ve never been able to do this before,” you tell him. “I mean, I wasn’t here for the whole adventure. But I was here after and before and... and just... we’ve never done this.”

Cal is quiet. “I haven’t either.”

You look at him.

“Taken a break. I guess time on Bracca was the closest thing.”

You smile softly. “I’m sure it was really nice.”

Cal rolls his eyes along with his head, though the corner of his chapped pink lips turn upwards. “As nice as it could be with the Empire.”

“That’s pretty nice.”

Cal and you huff a humorous puff of air in unison.

“What were you doing before the Mantis?” Cal suddenly asked.

“Oh,” you roll your eyes and wave your hand. “Not important. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Come on!” Cal shifts.

“I’m serious!” you defend. “It’s boring stuff. You wouldn’t want to hear about it. Not as interesting as the force.”

“Well anything related to you is interesting,” Cal says casually, one of his palms lifting in the air for effect as he shifts again.

Well that makes your face feel hot. Anything related to you is interesting. How often do people get to hear that? And how casually it comes out of Cal’s mouth, the shrug of his shoulders that you tie so easily to him, that’s how you know it’s honest. Not only have you heard something intimate that not many people will in their whole lives, but it was also heartfelt.

“Yeah,” you mutter, though it sounds distant and far away as you watch Cal’s eyes. He doesn’t seem to mind. Then you snap back to reality. “This is gonna be good.”

Cal watches you pop to life, standing up entirely and running towards the water. BD-1 perks up as well to watch you just in time to see your much bigger form nearly knock the Latero over. And, much to Cal’s surprise, the little droid jumps from his lap and bounds after you. The red head decides he’s next to follow.

“BD-1,” he rasps, also nearly pushing Greez to the ground. “Don’t touch the water!”

But it’s too late. However, nothing happens. BD-1 stands in the shallow waves, unelectrocuted and unbroken. He doesn’t spark a bit, only cocking his head in wonder at his friend.

“Think fast!” a voice calls.

A splash of warm and salty water slaps against Cal’s face. He cringes, turning his shoulders away on impact with a little gasp that makes his throat burn. “Hey!”

Another splash.

Cal turns to you. You’re standing with your hands on either side of yourself, open and matching your smug and proud face. Your boots are still on, which can’t be comfortable given that they’re now submerged in water. BD-1 is on the back of your shoulders- something Cal thought was only between him and the droid. Apparently not.

“What’s wrong, Cal? Can’t handle the current?”

Cal stills himself. Then he bends down himself and flicks water upwards.

“Hey! No!”

He does it once more.

“No!”

So you too repeat your original actions and begin forcing salty liquid up into the air in Cal’s direction as well. BD-1 grips onto your collar for stability while you both go to town, careful to not open your mouths too wide and taste the saltiness.

“Be careful you two!” Cere calls from the shore. Neither Cal nor yourself heed her words, continuing on in disrupting the tide.

“They’re fine,” Greez assures with the wave of one of his many arms.

“Are you sure about that?” Cere responds with a hand on her hip as she watches you tackle the Jedi to the sandy terrain below the shallow water.

“Completely fine.”

You push both of Cal’s shoulders down jokingly, careful not to subdue his head under the water. He cranes his neck to keep it above the waves. Through his soft lashes, Cal can just see your smiling, evil intentioned face with BD-1 on your shoulder gazing at him.

Honestly, it feels just how it did last week- the last time you had watched Cal in his room. Gazing at him, admiring him. Just now you get to touch him, relax with him, splash water at him, even. You wish you could capture this moment if not forever, then for a while, and Cal wishes the same.

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･ *

Sorry it’s short. Idk if it’s my best work certainly but I haven’t written for Cal or Star Wars in a while. But I didn’t kill the reader in this fic or have someone sick or in danger! So it might be my first ever straight fluff? I don’t know. But what a good character to do it with. I’m glad to give Cal a break. And i hope the requester enjoys.

#cal kestis imagines #cal x reader #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis fluff #fluff #cal kestis imagine #jedi fallen order imagine #jedi fallen order x reader #jedi fallen order fanfiction #fanfiction #cal kestis fanfiction #cal fanfiction #cal imagine #cal imagines #imagine #star wars fanfiction #jfo fanfiction #star wars fluff

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works-of-fanfiction · 3 years

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“He’s the Best.” - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham struggles with his self-esteem within the band and the reader tries to cheer him up.

Requested by: Anon. I hope you like this <3

Warnings: Swearing (literally once).

Word Count: 3.3k - a bit of a longer oneshot from me! I didn’t mean for it to be this long.

A/N: I’ve been writing this and putting it off for days because I just don’t know if I like it, but I don’t want to restart it. Argh… I hope someone enjoys this cheese fest.

* Gif credits to the linked creator

_______________

No one in this life is born ‘better’ than anybody else. It’s not a competition or a game of comparison. Every single human on this planet has their own unique qualities that make them interesting and most importantly, worthy. However, humans sadly aren’t wired to see those qualities in themselves. They spend the majority of their lives obsessing over others; wondering if they’re as talented as the next man, or if they’ll ever look as good as whatshername. Sometimes, it gets to a point where even the deepest of friendships can become strained due to one or more parties comparing themselves to another’s achievements.

And seeing Graham go through exactly that, has been killing me. There was a time when everything Graham and Damon did together, was truly that - together. Every single melody, riff, lyric - it was theirs. Neither one did more work than the other, neither was more musically talented. They were both kids crammed inside a Portakabin with their very first instruments, strumming and plucking and making probably rather bothersome noise. They had no idea what was to become of their lunchtime jam sessions and after school practices. Both were just excited to have a friend that liked the same things as them, and enjoyed the noise the other was making.

But Graham has since become a shadow of who he once was around Damon - he’s become Damon’s shadow. Or so he thinks.

Being in a band with a boisterous frontman like Damon was bound to become hard work for the other members at one point or another, but I never thought it would affect Graham like this. It’s getting harder to communicate with him, and I know it’s not his fault but I’m running out of things to say to fill the silences. There’s only so many times I can ask if he wants a cup of tea, or tell him about the encounter I had at the bus stop earlier that day. I’m sick of hearing my own voice, so I can’t imagine how he must feel. The silence seems to be the only thing he wants; he doesn’t write anymore, he hardly plays guitar outside of work commitments, and he hasn’t picked up his sketchbook in weeks. He just seems to stare at the TV or sit on the sofa with his head buried in a book that’s stuck on the first chapter. I watched him the other day and in forty-five minutes, he turned the page once. I bet if I asked him about the story he wouldn’t be able to recall a single character’s name, never mind the plot.

Watching him struggle with his self-esteem is crushing, and I don’t want him to live another second feeling the way he does. I know it may take a while for him to find himself again, but if I can do anything to help move things along, it’s worth a try. I’d drop everything for Graham in a heartbeat.

“I dropped those music stands off today. Did you get them?” Dave asks, his voice a little crackly on the other end of the phone.

“I did, thank you!” I chime, balancing the phone between my shoulder and ear as I assemble the very same stands.

“Oh, good. I was a little worried about leaving them outside. I thought somebody would take them… What do you need them for anyway?”

“That’s something for me to know and you to find out, Dave.” I laugh, tightening one last knob on the second stand and straightening it out. I stand back and admire my handy work, smiling at the prospect of what they are to become.

“Alright, alright. Well, I hope they come in handy! I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks again. See you next week!”

We both hang up and I grab the stands, climbing up the stairs and into the spare room, placing them in their desired places. Grabbing two pieces of sheet music, I slot them onto the stands neatly and adjust them until they’re perfect. With one last thing to check, I turn on the projector I borrowed from an old university friend and let the film play out on the blank wall opposite. I mess with the sound a little, making sure it’s loud enough before rewinding the footage to the beginning and turning it off until later.

Standing in the middle of the room, I turn around and admire everything on the walls. Everything from lyrics to old album art concepts, to still life paintings from Graham’s time at Goldsmith’s. Beside the music stands, there’s crates filled with records, decorated with lyrics scribbled onto scraps of paper, some in Graham’s handwriting and others in mine. I of course, couldn’t resist writing them out in various colours and covering them in star-shaped stickers. The finishing touch is a large beanbag against the wall for us to sit and watch the projector from. I fluff up the beanbag for the thousandth time before heading downstairs to wait for Graham to get back.

It takes around two hours for Graham to arrive home. As soon as I hear his taxi pull up outside, I jump up from the sofa and head into the kitchen to flick the kettle on. Nerves bubble through me as I anticipate his entry. It’s impossible to predict how Graham’s going to be feeling on any given day. He could come through the door and speak to me as normal, or he could disappear into his studio until he’s tired enough to head to bed. Through the rumbling of the kettle I listen out for the door, fingers impatiently tapping on the counter as my gaze fixates on a magpie outside, shakily balancing on the washing line. A second joins it and I smile, muscle memory taking over as I pour the boiled water into two cups, not taking my eyes off of the birds.

“Hi.” Graham’s voice peeps behind me. Putting the kettle down, I turn around with a warm smile on my face. Despite everything Graham has been going through, seeing him come through that door every day is still my favourite sight. Having him come home to me will simply never get old. I don’t know what I’ll do when he has to go out on tour again in a few months.

“Hey.” I breathe, the sides of my face already beginning to feel sore from the ridiculous grin stuck on it. He smiles back, the expression not quite reaching his eyes but I know he means well. He’s trying. “You go and sit down. I’ll bring these in.” I gesture to the brewing teas on the counter and he nods, hanging his bag on the nearest kitchen chair and leaving the room without another word. I finish the drinks as quickly as possible, grabbing the stack of takeaway menus from the junk drawer and bringing them with me, the pieces of paper clamped between my teeth as I concentrate on carrying the two steaming hot cups in my hands.

Setting the cups down on the coffee table, I toss the menus onto the sofa next to where Graham is very aggressively, trying to pull his Docs off. “Need a little help?” I ask, laughing as I kneel down and bat his hands out of the way. “It would help if you untied them.”

“It’s easier to leave them tied.”

“Oh, really?” I scoff, gesturing to his feet still stuck in the cherry red boots. The laces are a complete mess with three bulky knots in them. I sit down cross-legged on the carpet, carefully plucking and unravelling each knot whilst Graham buries his head in the takeaway menus. “How do you even - “ I struggle, pulling at the frayed shoelace whilst trying not to damage it further, “- get these things on?” With one last tug, the first lace loosens and I’m able to slide the boot off with ease. Graham’s face pops out from behind the menu, a side-smile plastered onto his lips and a cheeky glint in his eyes. I know he wants to laugh.

“Shall we get Indian tonight?” He changes the subject, flipping over the tatty piece of bright orange paper as he squints at the options. He always orders the same thing, yet still insists on reading the whole menu front to back. He does it for every restaurant.

“Indian sounds good.” I nod, pulling the second boot off and shoving them to the side. “I’ll call them now.” Jumping up to grab the phone, I type the number in from memory and hold it up to my ear.

“What’s the rush?” Graham mouths and I hush him when somebody answers. I order the usual along with some extras and give them our address, despite them not even really needing it anymore. The phone call is no longer than a minute and Graham sits staring at me, nose scrunched in confusion. “Are you going to tell me what’s going - “

“Follow me.” I blurt out, stretching my arm towards him and rising onto my tiptoes out of excitement. He stands slowly, shrugging off his jacket and leaving it on the sofa. “I was going to wait until we’d had our food, but I have to show you now.”

“Show me what?” He asks as I grab his wrist and drag him up the stairs. We squeeze up the narrow staircase, almost tripping each other over a couple times until we stop on the landing, feet overlapping one another’s on the small square of carpet.

“I know you haven’t really been yourself lately.” I start, my fingers slipping from Graham’s wrist to entwine with his. He looks down, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes watch our hands as I lightly stroke the back of his thumb in an attempt to relax him. He has a habit of tensing up whenever I broach the subject. “So I wanted to remind you just how great you are.”

I watch his face intently, the corners of his mouth twitching and trying to smile. With my free hand, I open the door and flick the light on, pulling Graham into the room with me. His hand slips from my grasp and I back up to stand against the wall, watching as he takes in the room around him and everything in it.

He walks to the music stands first, fingers tracing the notes on the pages, flipping them over then back again. He walks towards the canvas on the back wall - a woodland painting he’d won a prize for back in college - running his hand over the textured patch of paint that forms the trees. I nervously bite the back of my thumb as he kneels down to sift through the records in the large black case below, flicking through every Blur album and single released to this day. My favourite lyrics are scattered on sheets of paper all over the ground, and he picks up the second verse from Coffee & TV. “You’ve always loved this one.” He says, turning to me and smiling.

“I happen to really like the guy who sings it.”

“He must be pretty good then.”

“Oh, he’s the best.” Resting my foot against the wall, I kick my body forward and stand straight, joining Graham beside the projector.

“What’s this for?” He asks, hands hovering near the buttons but not daring to touch anything. I take his hands in mine and give them a loving squeeze.

“Sit down and I’ll show you.” I chirp and he sinks down onto the beanbag. I mess with the projector until the sound starts to creep in, stretching over to switch off the light. Graham shuffles to the side to make some room for me on the beanbag and I flop down beside him, nestling into his side.

The image from the projector is surprisingly clear against the wall, although could’ve been improved had I borrowed a screen from somewhere. A variety of different clips play out in front of us, ranging from Graham performing onstage to snippets of his band members talking and praising their guitarist. I try my hardest to focus on the film in front of me, but I can’t help glancing over at Graham to see his reactions. His brows are furrowed, but not necessarily in a bad way - he’s focused, fully concentrating on everything he’s seeing and hearing.

I fidget with my hands, twiddling my thumbs and quietly cracking my knuckles. Graham notices this and grabs my left hand, squeezing it tightly and bringing it over to rest in his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder, I press a kiss onto his sleeve, rubbing my head against him and breathing in his familiar scent. He lays his head on top of mine, but never looks away from the video playing on the wall. Absentmindedly, his fingertips dance on the back of my hand, the drumming following the beat of Song 2 as it plays from the projector. I too can’t help bopping along to the beat, my foot tapping softly on the carpet.

The video closes with one final clip, a message I recorded for Graham. Too embarrassed to watch myself, my focus stays on him as I squeeze his hand a little tighter and snuggle up as close as possible. The picture begins to fade and the sound plays out until there’s no footage left, and the whirring of the projector becomes background noise in the room. Graham doesn’t say anything at first, but as I try to stand to turn the projector off, he pulls me back down onto the beanbag and rotates his body to face mine.

“Hey.” I whisper, my right hand supporting his cheek as he leans into me, his eyes closed and lips pressed into a line. Our bodies slot into one another’s on the beanbag, the very little space between us growing warmer by the second.

Graham releases a deep breath, his eyes slowly opening again with a small smile spreading across his face. It’s hard to see him properly in the dimly lit room, but I could never mistake those big brown eyes staring at me. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” He says, his voice low as he leans in close to speak like we’re the only two people who matter inside a crowded room.

“I wanted to show you how incredible you are. You’ve been so hard on yourself and I just - “ As I speak, tears start to well up in my eyes and I look up to the ceiling to try and stop them from falling. I’d already told myself earlier that I wouldn’t cry, because I don’t want Graham to think he’s upset me. I press at my eyes lightly with my fingertips in an attempt to push the tears away. “I can’t stand seeing you this way because you don’t deserve to feel like this. If it wasn’t for you, Blur wouldn’t exist! Everything you’ve all achieved wouldn’t have happened.” My voice begins to shake and I feel Graham’s hand on my arm, rubbing it gently to try and calm me down.

“Y/N.” He starts, before reaching up to turn on the light. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust, before my gaze falls to the ground to avoid his. If I look at him properly, I know I’ll start bawling. “Look at me. Please.”

“I can’t. I can’t because I’ll cry, and then you’ll get upset and I don’t want to make you feel any worse than wha - “

“You won’t upset me. Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve - “

“No, Graham. Don’t apologise.” I grip onto his shirt tightly, my fingers tangling in the fabric. Graham bows his head and nudges it against mine, edging closer until he pushes my head up with his and our noses are almost touching. We both open our eyes, our faces too close that my vision is distorted and I’m seeing double. I pull back, sniffling once and dabbing at my eyes again, still not allowing any tears to actually emerge.

“I’m sorry,“ he starts and I sigh at his words, but he hushes me by holding his finger up to my face, “for putting you through this. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t realise how it was making you feel.”

“Graham, this isn’t about me.”

“But it affects you. Bloody hell, if I had to live with this miserable twat - “ he points to himself and I scoff, slapping the back of his hand playfully. “ - I’d have given up by now.”

“I would never give up on you.” My voice is barely above a whisper, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. Graham goes silent again, staring down at our joined hands and moving his thumbs around. I nudge his head with mine in the same way he did previously and he sniffles, his chest rising and immediately falling again. “Graham?” I bring my hand to his chin and push his face up to find his eyes watery, and cheeks significantly more red compared to a moment ago.

“God, look at me. What the hell are you still doing with me, ay? I’m a bleeding mess.” He sniffs, roughly wiping tears off of his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

“Because I wouldn’t want to be with anybody else.”

“Not even - “

“Ah! Stop right there. There’ll be no more of that.” I take his hands away from his face, holding onto them loosely. “Graham Coxon, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. And I’ll give you a free pass to slap me silly for being so cheesy.” I laugh, his grip on my hands tightening as he awkwardly slides closer on the beanbag, his body sinking into it at a strange angle and pulling me with him. “I love you.”

Within a second, Graham’s hands are on both sides of my face, pulling me in for a kiss; the kind of kiss that feels like the person is pouring their entire heart out to you. Like the kiss between the main characters of a movie, when they’ve just ran across a field or a busy road to collide with another at the centre. His lips messily press against mine and I can feel the stray tears running down his face as they dampen my cheeks. My hands rest on his legs, holding on firmly as his thumbs dig into my face a little. It doesn’t hurt, but he soon pulls away and swipes at my face softly as if to apologise for it. He uses his sleeve to dry my face and I do the same for him, small gasps of laughter exchanging between us.

“Thank you for doing this. If you can’t tell, I really love it.” He says sincerely with a genuine smile, the biggest smile I’ve seen from him in weeks. The expression is infectious and I can’t help mimicking him as I grin back like the Cheshire Cat. The faint sound of knocking from downstairs pulls us out of our romance film-esque daydream and we both clamber to our feet.

As we approach the stairs, Graham stops and spins me around, pulling me into him. I land against his chest with a huff, before adjusting my hair and looking up at him. “After we eat, can you show me the film again?” He asks, his hand meeting mine to help me fix the loose hairs falling in my eyes.

“We can watch it as many times as you like.”

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #oneshot #blur #request #anon request

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years

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A Tiny Spark Leads to a Roaring Flame (But Flames Can Always be Doused by Water)

Heeyyyyy so y’all know the Reverse Thanos Snap AU for SPBNR? Basically everyone but Smith/S!Kai gets sent to the M!verse. Everyone. The entire population of S!verse Ninjago City & a few surrounding areas. Except poor Smith. Essentially it happens because S!Garmadon tries to send Smith to a place where he can't mess with his plans, and ends up sending everyone away from Smith to take him out of the equation.

The second part to this AU is that the S!Ninja end up searching for Kai in the chaos and grab the Red Ninja before jetting out of there with the Bounty. Except... they didn’t grab Smith (who’s still home), but rather Red (M!Kai).

Red thinks the S!Ninja are babysitter clones created by Garmadon after he somehow turned Lloyd younger without his memories & is trying to raise him to be his new General #1. With this in mind, he pretends to be S!Kai, and waits for the moment he can rescue Lloyd.

What would happen in the S!Ninja discovered his deception/their mistake of grabbing a wrong Kai and mistake Red for a recreated Aki (aka Bizarro Evil Clone Kai) before he could enact his plan?

Well, this is that idea. (Title inspired by how a crack AU spiralled into a beautiful angst-fest)

Enjoy. :3

-----*-----

Red was going to get Lloyd out of here tonight.

Away from these Not-Friends made by Garmadon to emulate the Ninjaforce. Away from this flying ship built to emulate Master Wu's ship, so familiar and yet so off. Away from this false reality and back to the real everything where they could hopefully get his memories back and his age back and everything back to the way it was before the city descended into chaos.

He just had to... bide his time. Be patient.

FSM, he was bad at being patient.

His hands itched to grab Lloyd and run now, but he was horribly outnumbered and without his mech. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't rush this. If he did, he would make everything worse. Like he always did.

But fate- or rather, Lloyd- had other plans.

The little version of his younger brother- yes, they were roughly the same age normally, shut up, Lloyd was still his younger brother- had been... eying him weird all morning. Not like Not-Jay and Not-Cole and Not-Zane, but like Not-Nya. Like he actually knew instead of suspected. These babysitter clones seemed to think he was the Not-Kai, and if that was the opportunity the universe was going to give him, then by the flames of the departed world was he going to skip this chance to save Lloyd.

Currently he stood on the deck of the ship as they parked in the sky a few meters above the docks on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the docks with the Bounty warehouse, curse his luck, but it wasn't the endless sky or the empty ocean (though it was still too close to that murky, haunting water for his liking. Water was his sister's domain for a reason). At least he could sneak Lloyd off in the cover of night, maybe find someone in the city who wouldn't recognize the Son of Garmadon this way and would be willing to help them hide until they could make it back to the real ninja.

"Kai," Not-Zane spoke suddenly next to him.

Red would never get used to the way his voice... lacked the same effect the real Zane's had. The effect that Kai and the rest of his team had assured their friend over and over was unique, special, but in a good way. To embrace it. That it wasn't noticeable, but when it was, that it was so Zane that his friends didn't care that it was different.

This 'Zane' sounded much too different than his own. He hadn't recognized Kai's tested line of 'road work ahead' when they passed one of the many construction signs littering the city (even more so since the chaos happened a week ago), and instead had responded with 'a great deal of work to fix in the city'.

Seriously, Garmadon, do better research on your clones.

Not-Zane was also much too... calm. Too 'wise' compared to the wild teen that was Zane. And he walked without heelies or whatever Zane used to slide around like a boss, though he was still silent. And that meant, like now, he snuck up on Red fairly often- and Red was training to be a Ninja, so that took serious talent.

"Kai," Not-Zane said again, and Red finally broke his gaze from where he'd been staring over the railing, planning tonight's escape route. "Lunch has been made for over an hour. Are you alright?"

Red forced his brightest smile. "Course I'm alright! Just trying to figure out what happened, as usual."

Why Lloyd was suddenly like, 8, and without his memories. Why the Not-Friends were on this Not-Ship and had mistaken him for Not-Kai. Why the city was in a state of disarray and chaos.

Not-Zane studied him, then turned to give the city a sad look. "I'm not sure myself. My scanners can't seem to figure out what is happening. It is as if... blocked by some force."

Red winced, then expertly disguised the move by leaning against the rail. Zane never would use 'my scanners', despite how often Red and the others assured him it was okay. Yet another reason why this wasn't his friend.

"You know Ninjago City," Red said with a weak laugh. "Always one crisis or another. Always those annoying Garmadon Attacks"

This seemed to satisfy Not-Zane, who nodded thoughtfully. "This event definitely seems to have Garmadon's hand in the mess."

He patted Red on the back. "Well, don't worry yourself ragged, Kai. Come in for lunch soon, alright? We have training for Lloyd later."

Ah, right. Training. AKA what Red assumed was how Garmadon was planning to shape this impressionable version of his friend into his new General #1.

"I'm ready for training now, Zane!"

Speaking of Lloyd-

The little gremlin came up from the hull with the rest of the Not-Ninja. Red hated when the entire group was together; it was way more difficult to act as Not-Kai around them, especially around Not-Nya.

For starters, Not-Jay had a notch in his eyebrow that the real Jay never had. He was missing the iconic freckles, and the scarf, and the fluffy hair, though you could always say it was just a wardrobe change. What you couldn't change was the personality differences. This couldn’t be Jay. Jay was anxious and quiet, his jokes (while plentiful) said more timidly and his newest ideas shared with hesitance that only shrank after years of encouragement. He would never be this loud, ever.

Not-Cole was the leader, probably because Lloyd was so young. But even then, in Red's team, Nya would probably take second-command. Cole was their sturdy support, yes, but he was chill, laid-back. Ready to follow and support his friends to the ends of the earth with his tunes and occasional sarcastic wit, but not lead. Not like Not-Cole, who was more serious and commanding and didn't. listen. to. music. Red hadn't spotted a single record or boombox in the room in the hull. That was a tragic oversight on Garmadon's part. The members of his research team should be Fired.

And then there was Not-Nya. Who wore a dress with confidence that his sister would love but never publicly wear. Who had short hair- Nya had tried that style once, and decided it itched around her neck too much- and jewelry, and a giant flying Samurai mech suit. His sister had the Water Strider Mech, and Not-Nya had a flying combat suit. Sure. Close enough. Personality-wise they were similar.

Similar at first glance. Nya was fluid and adaptable to whatever role she needed filling. She was spunky, and as fiery as him when it came to tempers, though she knew how to keep hers in check (she had to, right? No one called her hot-headed and impulsive and reckless and blamed her temper for mistakes or damage or whatever the news comments liked to say about the Fire Mech). Not-Nya was also adaptable and independent-minded, but she seemed more rigid. More doing her own thing.

Point was, everyone wasn't actually his friends, despite how much they tried to prove they were. And they kept acting like he was this Not-Kai, who was just as hot-headed but apparently more mature and training-oriented and basically the better, cooler (or hotter, perhaps, for the fire theme of the red ninja) him, since his acting never seemed to fully convince them. Trying to impersonate a standard he couldn't seem to reach, some legendary hero he wasn't- er, wasn't yet! Yeah! He just needed to prove himself, be better, and he'd be fine. Just... fine. Yeah.

Mini-Lloyd (Red was tempted to call him L'ilyod in his head, but that felt wrong somehow, like he was infringing on some kind of copyright law) stared at him like a goddamn falcon, and he wasn't talking about the bird that circled the ship. He had this bowl-cut Red would tease him about endlessly after all this was over- seriously, how had Mr. Fabulous Hair started with this mess? Garmadon probably didn't even have hair, so there was no way the guy knew how to style it, and it was very evident based on Mini-Lloyd's hairdo.

Red noticed that all of them were staring, actually. Despite his relaxed rest against the rails, his fingers behind his back clutched the cool bar with a dull shake. He didn't notice how the metal seemed to glow red under his touch.

"Training, right, we should get onto that," Red tried. "What do you want to start with, Lloyd?"

"How about a little game?" Lloyd asked with complete innocence. "What we were playing last week before we got interrupted."

Oh sh!t.

"I-I don't know, shouldn't we start with stretches? Or how about some sparring, that's always more fun than a game!"

"But I wanted to continue our game..." Mini Lloyd said, and FSM's sake, he couldn't deal with that pouting look.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think logically. What kind of game would an 8-year-old Lloyd like to play with him? Something physical, so no board games- he liked to test his mettle against Zane on those, and sometimes he would almost not-lose. Logic puzzles also fell more on Jay's area. Trivia, especially music trivia, was a bubble between the anxious motormouth and Cole. Video games fell on team building, and wouldn't classify as a training warmup.

"Well," Red said, taking a hopeful stab in the dark. "There's not too much space on the deck for... tag..."

Lloyd nodded, looking satisfied. The Not-Ninja looked- well, their expressions were hard to read because of how different it was compared to his friends. But Red was a master of deception (well, fire, but eh, technicalities), and he had them fooled, and he just had to keep it up until nightfall so he could rescue Lloyd and explain in a safe location-

"HE'S NOT KAI!"

Orrrrr improvise. Okay, yep, he could improvise.

Red lunged forward and grabbed Mini Lloyd's wrist from where he had his hand extended in an accusatory point. He ducked under Not-Jay's attempts to grab him- fast, but not as fast as his Jay, his Jay who could disappear from an awkward social interaction in the span of a flickering lightbulb- and dragged his younger brother with him as he vaulted over the railing. Not-Zane almost managed to yank him back onto the Not-ship, but his icy grip caught only empty air as Red pulled Lloyd into a tight hold and ducked.

He hit the dock below with a stumble, rolling back onto his feet and taking off with a very stubborn green ninja in tow. It took all his strength to drag Lloyd (kicking and screaming like he was being kidnapped or something when Red was just trying to rescue him, for FSM's sake. Lloyd didn't know that, but he could still try to be at least a little more considerate.)

The wooden docks creaked and shuddered underfoot and Red grimaced; whoever rebuilt them after the latest Garmadon attack had shredded them like newspaper clearly hadn't wasted any unnecessary change. It certainly didn't help that Lloyd packed quite the punch for someone so small. Red definitely would come out of this with bruised shins and arms from where Mini Lloyd tried to push him away, but it would be worth it to keep his teammate, his younger brother, safe.

Then green filled his vision and broke his hold on Lloyd's wrist, sending him skidding across the dock planks as he was sent flying. When he finally rolled to a stop, neck and shoulder stinging from where the blast had caught him (no burns, just jitters like he'd been shocked), he had to take a few seconds to re-orient himself. Did the Not-Ship have cannons or something? What hit him from behind, so close it could have hit Lloyd?

Lloyd. Was Lloyd okay?

Red pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands and legs from where he'd gotten banged up by the splintered docks. His gaze, sharp and frantic, searched for signs of green. The warning of more blasts, the flash of the fabric of a gi, anything.

He spotted his brother in the arms of Not-Cole. No, no, no-

And suddenly Not-Nya was there, given a boost by Not-Jay. Her grip was as if she were wearing the robotic mech suit, harsh and powerful and near in-human. She threw Red back to the dock floor as her face twisted with the fury of a storming ocean. A resounding crack rang out over the harbour.

Red couldn't tell if it came from the planks under him or his own shoulder.

She pinned him to the wood, barking accusations and threats in his face faster than Not-Jay could talk. Red blinked through a haze of pain, trying to focus on her face and words. She was missing the beauty mark on her face, he noticed. Yet another tell she wasn't his sister.

"-scar on the wrong side-" And it was hard to hear again over the ringing in his ears. He tried to throw her off, get back to Lloyd, anything, but he was-

Useless.

Her hands suddenly got in his face, slamming his left cheek to the wood. She was close- close to his face, close to his eye, close to his scar- pushing and prying as she tried to do something. Red picked up in his struggling, his attempts to free himself turning to desperate shoves and wild clawing like a trapped animal. He wouldn't let this creation of Garmadon's finish the job that teen had started all those years ago.

"Or better yet, he needs to shut his damn mouth."

The flash of a knife. His vision half-blurry. Blood- so much blood- and a lasting scar.

"-contacts-" "-red-" "-struggling-" "-we know what he- it- is already-" "-not the real Kai-" "-wish-" "-Garmadon-"

He had to get away. Get Lloyd away from them now.

In one surge of strength- and yep, his shoulder definitely wasn't okay after that move, as if he'd ripped it not just from its socket but from its very attachment to his body- he knocked Not-Nya aside. If he could’ve seen through the red haze, he might have noticed red embers dancing around his fingertips as his desperation and fear tapped into something deep in his soul.

He tried to shoot to his feet, tried to run for Lloyd (held so tight in Not-Cole's grip, surely they were hurting him, he couldn't let that happen-). He roared, "LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!", but before he could take another step through Not-Jay and Not-Zane in his path, the docks gave one last ominous shudder before deciding it had finally had enough.

The planks crumbled underfoot like charred firewood in a crackling campfire, and Red was sent tumbling into the frigid ocean water below.

#spbnr #reverse Thanos snap au #reverse thanos snap #ninjago #lego ninjago #same People but not really #kai ninjago

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hanibalistic · 3 years

Text

#67509E | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fluff

word count | 1889

warning | appearances of vampire fangs, mention of blood sucking

tag | @fluffyskzclub

note | i miss hyunjin.

hyunjin pouted like he was throwing a tantrum—well, to a certain degree, he was throwing a small tantrum.

he curled himself around the fluffy blanket that you two left on the couch from yesterday's spontaneous movie night as he pouted at you bitterly. he tried to fit his tall body within the blanket, but his long legs awkwardly jutted out of the end corner, unable to bend enough to curl himself into a tiny ball. his head poked out of the blanket he draped around his shoulder and over his head.

"must you open the curtains all the time?" he whined with furrowed brows, lightly kicking his feet against the couch. "i hate the sun, you know that!"

you rolled your eyes as you closed the curtains after being drowned in his mindless complaints about the last half an hour. you had opened them so the plants could soak in some sunlight. you even took into consideration that hyunjin would be asleep for longer like he always does, otherwise, you would have never let the sunlight into your shared apartment. but for some reason, he decided to leave his stupid coffin earlier today.

to listen to the birds' chirp perhaps. that's the kind of leisure activity a hundred-year-old would like, you bet.

the same thing happens every time you open the blinds, which is that hyunjin does not shut up about him disliking the sun and how it weakens his vampirism as opposed to it actually killing him. he would not stop until you close the curtains and turn on the lights, which often made you scoff. not only was he annoying, for a vampire who was supposed to burn under the sun, he sure does speak of it a lot.

"we will need sunlight somehow, hyunjin," you said as you turned around to glare at him. "the plants you stole, from outside, in the morning, will need sunlight."

you emphasized your words to make sure he knew of all the heinous frustrations he has caused you. the puppy pout on his face, as well as the pitying glint in his eyes, only deepened with each emphasis of your voice, his body flinching and shrinking when he could tell that you were upset with him.

watching him, there was a rush of conflict brewing like bubbles in you. you weren't sure if you felt more annoyed or endeared about the fact that hyunjin, a not quite literally ancient but old enough to feel ancient vampire, gained such comfortability from you that he was fine with throwing a childish tantrum in front of you.

he looks cute, surely! he always does. but sometimes, you genuinely could not stand another second of him whining.

"stop yelling at me! you know what the sun does to a vampire!" he retorted.

oh, god—blah, blah, blah.

"yeah, a vampire that doesn't have an accessory of the sigil," you said cleverly as you moved over to him. you yanked the blanket off his body, ignoring his protest, and you pointed at his neck. "like the necklace you never take off!"

"i only got this recently! the witch would have never sold me this if you hadn't come with me," he argued, pulling the blanket around him again. "i'm not used to the sun yet, just let me have a little more time."

you pursed your lips together, your neck turning sour at his poor mumble as you softened. he did only just get the necklace—by just, it was about two to three months ago. however, while that alone may seem like a long period, comparing that to almost a whole decade of no sunlight, perhaps he really just needed more time to adjust.

but! zooming past the streets, leaving normal people wondering where the sudden gust of wind came from, and hiding in the apartment that leaves no room for any traces of sunlight was not the way to go about it!

"how about just a little bit, hmm?" you said then, suggesting a compromise casually while you walked toward the window. "take it little by little!"

hyunjin widened his eyes in disbelief as you moved farther away from him. he shook his legs in protest, his body moving animatedly on the cushiony couch as he protested loud and clear. "hey! you better not open the curtains, [name]!"

you grabbed the hem of the curtains, your mind occupied with calculating the correct amount you would flip open. it has to be a very small amount, to a point where the sunlight could only hit one leaf of the plant on the window rail, or just one square of your marble floor. it has to be the form of sunlight that could not hurt even a fly, so you could show him just how goddamn dramatic he was being.

"[name], i swear!"

"oh, bite me," you muttered under your breath.

there was a gust of wind—a familiar kind. it blew at the tip of your hair, making it waft around, and the hem of your thin shirt also danced at the breeze of hyunjin's vampiric speed.

blinking consciously, you loosened your grip on the curtains and turned around. immediately, upon feeling the heat of his face, you flinched back and closed your eyes to settle yourself.

"jesus–what the hell, hyunjin?" you muttered with a hand on your chest before you slowly opened your eyes.

hyunjin was glaring at you; no malice, just alluring intensity. his hair fell over his face prettily. the sunlight that he didn't seem to care much for now shone a soft haze over half of his face, making him glow and glitter naturally.

"those are some reckless words to say to a vampire," he said lowly, tilting his head to the side lightly as he arched a brow, "don't you think?"

your heart pounced.

the matter of blood, or just his general nature as a vampire, like his need to feed off of human beings, has only come up once.

he mentioned it to you when he was applying to be your roommate, having a foul plan to erase your memories in case the truth was not well-received by you. he told you that he has been a vampire for a while so he knew how to control his urges, therefore you would not be in any harm, and the matter was never spoken of again.

he held up his words. he has never discussed blood with you, he has never shown any blood-thirsty behavior at all. he acted like any other roommates you have had; being too loud at night, eating cereal in the living room and eyeing your bed-head with a judgemental gaze, knocking at your door and asking if you wanted to pick a takeout place.

if he used his powers less, you would have forgotten about his vampiric side.

why was your heart thumping then? was he too pretty for your own good? or was he standing too close for familiar comfort? or perhaps both?

you scoffed, making your thoughts vanish. "you won't bite me."

hyunjin softened in a way you couldn't catch. deep within the tender wash of his eyes was a sea of wildfires he hid behind closed doors.

you were right, he won't bite you, but he wants to, especially because the smell of your blood happened to be more enticing than others because he likes you.

the art of blood sharing (in a sense) is done between lovers; consider it like leaving a love mark, of a sort. it is an act of claiming and reassurance, and hyunjin has been wanting to sink his fangs into your flesh for a while so he could leave a bite mark.

but he could never do that. that was a desire trapped in his throat, urging to be let out and to be voiced, and hyunjin would not allow it. there were too many risks of unleashing the deep-seated yearning in his chest. it lingered in his head in withdrawal, cautiously threading through his mind to keep his urges contained.

he puts his want elsewhere. his want to taste your blood, to kiss your neck, has to grow somewhere, so he has to put it somewhere, and he puts in it his daydream which that manifests gently when he is with you, and ferociously when you were away.

"i won't," he muttered under his breath, to which you relaxed at. but then he grinned, and he opened his mouth to speak first, "doesn't mean i can't, though."

you widened your eyes when black veins draped beneath his eyes and his sharp fangs appeared. it was a terrifying sight, but you were only shocked to see it than scared. rationally, you reached your hands up and slapped your palms against his cheeks, startling him.

"hmmm... " you grumbled, sounding thoughtful as you surveyed his shocked expression.

the veins under his eyes retreated and the colors returned to his face. the innocence flooded back into him, bright and boyish, and he dared not move an inch under the pressure of your gaze—beneath your touch hyunjin is but a gentle boy hapless in love.

"ah...aah...wha–" he closed his eyes slightly and opened them with furrowed brows, confused and helpless with his head slightly tilted up. his words were muffled but jot too hard to understand. "[name]–why–uhh–"

you pushed at his upper lip with your thumb and looked at his fangs, wondering why they did not retreat with the dark haze of his eyes. then, ignoring hyunjin's muffled questions, you carefully poked at the tip of his teeth—razor-sharp, but very real.

he was whining again. his hands reached out to the hem of your shirt and desperately, as well as timidly, tugged at it. meanwhile, he put on a defeated face. as much as he would with your thumbs poking his fangs, that was.

"ahh, please stop–[name], stop touching my fangs–why," he feigned a sob, shaking his head as a blush reached his cheeks, "they're just teeth."

"teeth that puncture," you commented when you let go. the way your thumbs briefly smoothed over his top lip was not lost on him.

seeing his pout, you pursed your lips with faint guilt. rubbing the back of your neck, you shrugged. "sorry about that, i just got curious."

"it's okay," he waved you off quickly, "i was curious too when i first got them."

hyunjin looked at you when you giggled under your breath; soft, hearty giggles that tried to conceal themselves without the anticipation for his vampiric hearing. gentle, funny giggles that never once questioned his problematic past. lovely, adoring giggles that are here before and after he revealed who he is to you.

he came to your apartment begging for a home where he could be himself, and you allowed him safety with you.

"alright," you said with a curt smile, "i'm going to go change, need to get grocery."

"i–i'll come with!"

you seemed shocked for a moment, accessing him like a trick question. then you relaxed and nodded with nonchalance. "yeah, whatever."

he melted despite the lackluster reaction. it was the excitement that counted. smiling to himself, he twirled and twisted his body shyly as the sun shone from outside.

yeah. hyunjin truly is but a simple boy in love with you.

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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

Piña Coladas

pairing: Marco x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: You are loyal to your captain and your team, so you would do everything to win. Even shoot your boyfriend.

highlight: ¨I don´t like when your tattoo is covered.¨

warning: implied smut

notes: Guys, I really want to thank each and every one of you for the love and support <3 Also, picture this as a crossover between laser tag and paintball!

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Ok, assholes, listen up!¨ your freckled captain uttered loudly due to the music blasting outside of your headquarter. ¨They have Haruta and Speed Jiru, those sneaky bastards, so we´re gonna have to be careful here, ok? They also have an extra person compared to us! So focus the fuck up!¨

The Whitebeard Pirates made a strategic stop at the Sabaody Archipelago for provisions, which meant that it was time for the Division Commanders and Whitebeard´s left-hand and only daughter, you, to engage in your periodic Bubble Laser Tag battle.

The teams were sorted out, and one would always have an extra member. The team captains were for the first time, Ace and Marco. And despite loving the First Division Commander, you were obliged to take a vow to serve and honor your team and your captain as long as the game ran.

¨Y/N you´re the faster one here and the smallest, so I´m counting on you.¨ you saluted him ¨Izo, you´re the best sniper we have, so place your freckled butt in a strategic place and shoot the fuck out of those motherf-¨

¨OI, OI, OI, OI!¨ all of you shouted at Ace.

¨Calm down, cowboy! Don´t you think you´re taking this far too seriously?¨

¨No! Do you know when was the last time I was captain?! And do you know how many losses in a row I have?! This is my pride, Y/N! You´re with me or against me?!¨

You couldn´t face him without laughing, he was just so stupid sometimes. But you made sure to let him know that you were on his side - not that you had a choice, though.

The teams were called The Bird Brains and The Freckled Butts. Yes, the captains chose each other´s team's name, and naturally, nothing good could come out of it. The worst part was having to run around with a tag that said ¨Freckled Butt¨ on your gear.

In Ace´s team, you had, well, you, Thatch, Izo, Fossa, Namur, Blamenco, and Kingdew, and in Marco´s team were Vista, Haruta, Speed Jiru, Atmos, Curiel, Jozu, Blenheim, and Rakuyo.

¨They will definitely use Jozu and Atmos as sacrificial lambs to get to us.¨ Thatch pointed out.

¨Ok, so we´re leaving them to you, Izo.¨ Ace spoke.

¨I´m guessing Haruta and Jiru will be doing the same as Izo, hiding somewhere and making surprise attacks.¨

The rules were pretty simple:

1) No Devil Fruit ability could be used. Not after Ace almost burned the entire place to the ground once.

2) You didn´t have to stay on the ground. You could use whatever you had at your disposal to climb the walls or even the ceiling.

3) If the captain is out, the team is out.

¨Ok. So, Thatch, you´ll cover for me; Namur will cover for Blamenco, and Kingdew will cover for Fossa. Izo and Y/N will go solo.¨ you furrowed your eyebrows.

¨Wait, I´m not covering Izo?¨

¨No, Y/N. You are our special pawn.¨ he said in a devilish and malicious tone. ¨I said I want a glorious victory this time. Your job will be to end this game as soon as possible.¨

¨Still not following, Fire-Fist.¨

¨We´ll make sure no one gets to you while you go find your birdie and end him!¨ he burst in a maniac laugh.

¨You really think Marco is that stupid?!¨

¨No, but he´s a man, Y/N.¨ you gasped, outraged.

You faced your crewmates, all of them smirking at you.

¨What are you now, a pimp?! Izo, say something, defend my honor!¨

¨I would Y/N, but not only he´s my captain today... he´s kinda right.¨

¨Besides, we´re all very familiar with you guys getting business done.¨ Thatch rested his arm on your shoulders. At this point, internal bleeding caused by severe embarrassment was killing you not so softly.

¨You know what? I think I´ll kill you all first!¨ you threatened the commanders.

The entire arena turned red, and a loud 10 seconds countdown began. You put your goggles down and tightened your grip on the gun, comrades doing the same.

¨We´re counting on you, Y/N. Put your freckled butt to work!¨ Ace said and stormed out before you could beat him.

Still analyzing his request and your options available, you decided to stay hidden in the shadows. Head down, and powder dry - or paint wet.

The music was so intense you could feel your lungs vibrating with every beat, sometimes knocking the oxygen out. The whole place was dark with colorful light beams flashing in every direction.

After 5 minutes of resting in the shadows, you opted for what you thought would be the best thing to do, plus you had the benefit of being smaller than those brutes, so you fit in places they didn´t.

And you just had found yourself the perfect spot right behind the stage lights at the top of the arena. Getting up there was a little tricky, the light rays almost blinded you - plus the risk of you being caught - and you were not sure you could hide there. Technically it was not against the rules.

¨If I were a hot birdie piña colada, where would I be?¨ you tried to channel into your lover´s brain.

That was actually a good hideout, you spot many of the commanders running around the field. You loved how they took it seriously as if their lives depended on it.

A loud buzz played every time someone was eliminated, although they didn´t say from which team unless it was the captain. You´ve heard zero buzzes so far, showing how inspired and determined they were.

You finally decided to follow your captain´s order when 10 minutes passed, and no one had gotten eliminated. Your stomach craved for food and you were really bored.

You´d always choose the biggest arena since guys like Kingdew and Jozu wouldn´t fit in the normal one. So this one was larger, taller, and had more obstacles. Bubbles in all shapes and sizes, picturesque barricades, and tricky mirrors. Finding Marco was going to be tough... if you didn´t have a card in your sleeve.

Again, it was not against the rules, and you wanted to eat something. Besides, this victory was more meaningful to Ace than to Marco. So you took your lover´s vivre card from your pocket and placed it on your palm, waiting for it to guide you.

¨Bingo!¨ you spot a fluffy pineapple crown not so far from you. The problem was to reach him before he moved again.

Your plan was not to shoot him from the distance, you knew better than that. You were going to approach, engage naturally and eliminate the target. Based on the field, the track he took so far, and his usual train of thought, you had a good guess of what he was planning to do.

The path he was taking led you to believe that he was advancing towards a barricade, a good place to hide, but that would offer him no visibility of his opponents. Was he planning to lay low while the rest of you killed each other? That didn´t sound like him.

The job that had been entrusted to you within the Whitebeard Pirates was to analyze each mission´s goal, come up with several different plans of approach - or attack - and predict the possible failures or setbacks. And you did all of that alongside Whitebeard himself, and all sixteen commanders. So, to guess the strategy Marco was going for would be easier than steal a child's candy.

Well, actually, you were able to guess his final destination, not his strategy.

Without losing any more time, you ran and hid behind the barricade, waiting for your boyfriend to arrive.

¨Whatever.¨ you thought.

¨Don´t shoot!¨ you squealed and threw both hands in the air.

¨Really, Y/N? This is how you play?¨ Marco asked, putting his gun down.

¨When I am hungry, yes!¨ you bent slightly, faking an exhausted state.

¨What are you doing here, yoi?¨

¨Looking for Izo, I was supposed to cover for him.¨ you struggled with the weird sensation of lying to Marco.

He hummed and leaned against the wall, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead. The lightning was awful, but it was enough for you to see his messy hair and those lazy eyes that made you almost forget the mission.

¨Why are you staring, yoi?¨ he gave you a smirk and a quick nod.

¨Nothing. Uhm...¨ you bit your lip as the butterflies started to go insane inside of you ¨...it´s so rare to see you carrying a gun...¨

The first commander watched you with a raised eyebrow and a playful grin ¨Yeah, so?¨

The two of you entered a parallel universe, the lights changed according to the muffled beat of the music. And it was hot. Flaming hot, burning hot.

Your breath was slow but heavy, and your mouth ran dry with adrenaline on your veins. Not because of a stupid plan or stupid game but because he made you lose whatever control you had over your body and mind.

You let go of the gun and raised your hand until your fingers touched the skin of his face, tracing a slow path to his parted lips. He watched you like you were a rare creature, an angel forgiving his sins or a siren taking his life. His large hand held yours, and he placed kisses on your fingers, the same fingers that would pull the trigger by the end of this. You wondered if he already knew.

Marco hooked his finger on the belt holders of your jeans and turned you, making you hit the wall, and oxygen left your lungs in a puff. Didn´t take long until he attacked your neck, tasting your salty skin. Your fingers pulled his hair as your body arched involuntarily, cold shivers reaching every part of you.

His eyes were soaked in lust when he stopped marking your neck and stared at you like a hungry predator. Your teary eyes traveled to his chest looking for his tattoo, but it was covered by the stupid gear.

¨I don´t like when your tattoo is covered.¨ you spoke.

He leaned to your ears and said in a whisper ¨Then uncover it.¨

He was teasing you, he knew what you were supposed to do and was torturing you.

¨I-I can´t...¨ your voice came out weak ¨I... I have to-¨

¨What, yoi?¨ his grin was malicious.

¨I have to shoot you.¨

Marco leaned again, getting really close to your lips but never touching them. Instead, he took your paint gun and put it in your hand. You laughed, asking yourself if you truly believed you would be able to fool him. He gave a quick kiss before stepping back so you could end your mission.

¨You really don´t mind letting Ace win?¨

¨Ace can have the victory.¨ he shrugged ¨I have something better, yoi¨

You blushed with his comment, and fireworks exploded in your chest.

¨I love you, bird brain.¨

¨I love you... freckled butt.¨ he laughed, probably embarrassed for the name he chose.

¨This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you.¨ you raised the gun to his gear.

¨I hope so, yoi.¨

¨Ready?¨

¨You know I´ll make you pay for this later, right, yoi?¨

¨I´d be disappointed if you weren´t planning to.¨

184 notes · View notes

whumperooni · 3 years

Note

alpha bird keigo nii is🤤🤤 can u do a continuation, maybe she feels ugly because of multiple chicks in her belly and keigo-nii takes care of his mate🥺 he praises her while sucking her milky tits and makes love to her😳

you can absolutely have a continuation ♡

(but be warned i took some Liberties)

a continuation of this

tags/warnings: tw incest, tw dubcon, tw pregnant reader, nursing, mention of breastfeeding (just a tiny bit), fingering, shame, praise, depression and self-deprecation, yan keigo

You’re disgusting. You’re so ugly.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you look in the mirror and take in the sight of your bulging belly, your fattened breasts and thighs and puffy ankles. You’re so big now- swollen with your big brother’s clutch and softer than ever, bigger and squishier than you ever imagined you would become.

Pregnancy glow? What a load of crap.

Maybe that’s just reserved for people who haven’t been drenched in sin.

You swipe at your tears and you sniffle over the way your tank top struggles to fit. Keigo won’t let you wear anything loose anymore- he likes how big you are, he goes nuts over the visible evidence of the way he bred his little sister.

You just want to hide away from it all.

There’s the sound of a door opening and closing in the distance and you quickly try to scrub the tears from your eyes, wince as footsteps grow closer.

He’s home.

Multiple locks tumble loudly as Keigo undoes them and you hurriedly scramble to the nest, just barely get your bottom sat down before he strides in.

Keigo grins at you only for his face to falter and you flinch in worry whenever he takes a silent step closer.

He doesn’t like seeing you upset. He’s going to get mad, again, and you’re going to have to deal with some form of punishment.

Again.

(Keigo’s gotten a lot more volatile since he claimed you.

You miss your carefree, loving older brother who coddled you and made you feel safe)

“What’s with the tears, baby? You not happy to see me?”

Yes. No. He’s the only person you see anymore- it’s pathetic how you look forward to him coming home just so you’re not alone with your thoughts and worries.

You try to smile, but all you can do is cry- pathetic and upset and unable to keep up with the tears streaming down your cheeks. You sob and you whimper whenever Keigo sits himself behind you, let yourself be pulled like a weak doll against his chest as he wraps his wings around your trembling form.

“Hey, hey- what’s wrong? What’s got my mate so upset?”

His mate. Disgusting. You’re his little sister- not his mate.

Though, the eggs in your belly would say otherwise.

You weep even louder- hormonal, anguished, angry and depressed. The stroke of his hand to your hair does little to soothe you, but you still burrow against his chest in search of comfort, hate yourself as you do.

You don’t want to be like this. You want your older brother back and you just want to be normal again.

“Sis? Hey, come on- what’s wrong?”

He’s so gentle as he asks and, for a second, it’s almost like he’s your big brother again. It makes you weak and you sob more against him, curl your fingers into his shirt and shake.

“I- I’m fat and I’m- I’m ugly and I- I’m disgusting! I’m gross!”

Big tears stream down your cheeks and soak his shirt. You can’t bring yourself to care about any repercussions for your upset and all you can do is shake and weep against Keigo’s chest.

Over your tears, there’s the faintest noise from your big brother and you whimper as his arms tighten around you.

“Oh, baby...”

The murmur is so gentle, sweet. It makes it hurt worse, his tender tone, and it makes you even weaker, keeps you from wincing whenever he kisses your hair. You don’t resist when he tilts your head up and you don’t do anything more than cry and sniffle when he cups your face, looks at you so lovingly that it has you aching.

It’s like when he used to comfort you before- before when he was your big brother and not your captor, before when you were just his little sister and not his bred prisoner.

“Baby, you’re not ugly at all,” he murmurs, thumbing away your tears. “You’re so beautiful, so lovely.”

He couples the word with a soft smile and you cry harder, shake your head.

“I’m g-gross. I’m- I’m a blob!”

He huffs, but he doesn’t look angry or upset- at least from what you can see through your wet, blurry vision. His lips find your forehead and you sniffle again- louder and more pathetic, snotty from all of your dismay and bubbling distress.

“You’re gorgeous,” he insists, thumbs swiping away at more rolling tears. “You’re always gorgeous.”

“I’m not! I’m not!”

Your sobbing denial comes with harder crying, a flash of hurt going across Keigo’s face. Before he can say anything more, you burrow your face into his neck- pressing against him in a desperate sort of way that you haven’t done since he took you in his rut, made you into this pathetic wreck.

You’ll regret it later, probably. But right now? Right now you need some sort of comfort- even if it is from him.

His arms tighten around you even more and you tremble in his hold, don’t register the upset noise that leaves him or the way his wings wrap around you even more.

“Baby, baby...”

The murmured words that would have made you want to scream before only have you sniffling and pressing against him even more. Keigo’s lips press against your hair and his hands hold onto you tight, his lips move in quiet whispers that you can’t hear over your blubbering.

He lets you cry. There’s none of the punishment that you had feared- only comfort and sweetness, a gentle consolation that leaves you dizzy and overwhelmed.

“My mate, my sweet mate...you’re not- I promise you’re still beautiful. You’re so pretty, baby. So lovely. I love you. I love you so much. I love how you look.”

A hand slides down to your bulging stomach and you whine into the crook of his neck, shake your head. He shushes you, quietly, and tilts your head up with his other hand, presses a kiss to your forehead, both your cheeks.

You don’t pull away when his lips find yours- you just tremble and let it happen.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your lips. “You’re just growing, baby, and you’re doing it so well- I know our chicks are going to turn out so pretty like you.”

Pretty? Like you?

You’re not pretty. Keigo’s always been the pretty one- even before you got like this.

His hands smooth over your stomach and his lips press against yours again, mold in a sweet way that they haven’t quite done before. It’s so gentle compared to the hungry, greedy, possessive kisses he’s forced onto you before and you can’t help but shake, sniffle out more tears as you cling to him.

“Pretty mate,” he whispers. “Pretty girl.”

You want to deny him- you do. But the praise makes you whine instead and you shudder when his lips trail down to your jawline, smooth to your throat. Your head tilts back before you can help it and you squeeze your eyes shut- tears still slipping down your cheeks and strangled, soft noises leaving you.

You want to feel pretty. You want to feel wanted. Keigo is the only one who could want you like this; he’s the only one that would whisper praise against your skin while you’re so bloated and puffy eyed and upset.

Your big brother is the only person that could love you like this.

In fact, he’s the only person that loves you- even if it’s twisted and disgusting, perverted and sinful.

He’s the only person that’s ever going to love you.

A sob wracks through you at the realization and you let yourself be gently pushed onto your back, look up at your big brother through your wet lashes. He smiles at you- gently, sadly- and another sob leaves you, your hands reach up to him in a desperate way you’ll hate yourself for later on.

Keigo catches one of your hands and he brings it to his lips, kisses your fingers with a devotion that has your whole word quaking.

“I’ve never seen you look so gorgeous,” he murmurs, lips moving over the back of your hand and to your wrist. “You’re radiant.”

Radiant? No one has ever called you that. You’re not- you’re not. But...

“Ni- nii-san...”

The whine leaves you before you can think about holding it back and his eyes close, a soft groan leaves him. Keigo places another kiss to your wrist and then he lets your hand drop, leans down until he can nuzzle at your neck.

You don’t do more than whimper when he noses down to your breasts, shiver when his thumbs slowly smooth over your sensitive nipples. Keigo pulls your tank top down in a cautious sort of way that you’re absolutely not used to from him and the consideration (is that it?) he’s gracing you with.

You squirm when you’re bared to him and squeeze your eyes shut in shame, bite your lip and stifle a whine when his hands cup your swollen breasts.

“They’ve gotten so big,” he sighs out- soft and happy. “Full of milk for our chicks.”

The way his tongue laves over your nipple is almost soothing and a horrible mewl leaves you whenever his lips latch onto it, gives a suck.

You’re so sensitive now- body wracked by your live-wire hormones and your overwhelmed emotions. It takes only a second for your breathing to turn stuttered and your fingers twitch against the padding of the nest, there’s an urge to curl your digits into his hair that you’re able to just barely resist.

“Could suck on these all day,” he mumbles- your nipple still in his mouth, his tongue jostling against it and making you squirm, making your breath hitch. “Love them, baby. I love them.”

“Nii-san...”

He groans, again, and he sucks your nipple, switches to the other to lay his attention on it as well.

It’s a betrayal to yourself how you arch up, but you’re already lost to it all- your hormones, your need to feel wanted, your desperation to forget for just a moment that you’re not what he’s saying but a disgusting mess instead.

He murmurs something but it’s lost against your flesh, lost underneath the whine that leaves you. Keigo oh so gently scrapes his teeth against your hardened peak and whimper leaves you as you feel a heat light down low.

You don’t fight it whenever his hand rubs over your stomach and sneaks down low. You don’t fight the way your legs part for him and you don’t fight the quiet, quiet moan that leaves you whenever he cups your mound. His finger hooks your panties to the side and slips through your slit. There’s a pause to his nursing, an upset whimper from you whenever his lips pull from your tit as he lifts his head. He looks down at you- surprise on his face, his expression blurred from your still teary gaze- and you whimper again when he blinks, whenever his eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You’re wet,” he breathes out, finger finding your clit and stroking it so your gasp. “Oh, baby...”

The way he says it is so- so- so happy. So pleased. So full of praise.

Your lashes flutter in some unwanted creep of joy and you turn your head away from him in shame, squeeze your eyes shut as your bottom lip wobbles and your heart pounds hard.

His finger works over you as he watches you in wonder and you whimper, squirm from his ministrations. Whenever Keigo slides a finger inside you, a whine slips from your lips and your back arches, your swollen belly brushes against his lean one.

Some part deep in the back of your mind screams over how unfair it is that he gets to stay toned and gorgeous while you’re forced to become a large, waddling blob. It’s something that doesn’t quite get to surface, though- not with the starry burst of heat that flames through you whenever his finger curls and brushes over your sweet spot to make you gasp and mewl.

“Fuck. Good girl, good mate. God, you look so pretty.”

Pretty. You’re not- you’re not-

You want to be pretty.

A sniffle leaves you and his lips find your nipple again, he begins to nurse your oh so tender tit. It’s needier, almost feverish but still careful and you can’t help the clench you give to his finger, you can’t help reaching up and curling your digits into his hair as he slides another inside you.

The room is starting to fill with sounds of your wavering, upset, overwhelmed, needy whimpers. The room is starting to fill with the wet shlick of his fingers and the soft, muffled groans that slip from him.

You gasp and whine his name whenever his thumb finds your clit and you tug on his hair without meaning to, press his face tighter against your breast. The way his fingers begin to pump in and out of your shamefully wet pussy has you trembling and you throw your head back as your hips try to move in a stuttered motion against his hand.

“That’s it,” he mutters- so encouraging as he laves his tongue over your nipple in between the words. “Such a sweet little sister- such a good girl.”

Little sister.

Tears spill down your cheeks with a renewed vigor but you’re not able to stop the way you chase after hazy pleasure, the desperate need to fall into something that will help you forget everything.

He ruts against your thigh and you shake your head when you feel him pull back to take his cock out, look up at him through your tears as he pulls down his zipper.

“The babies! You’ll hurt-”

You choke on the words before they can fully leave you- eyes going wide and a hand slapping over your mouth in disbelief.

You...when did you start to...when did you start to care about your big brother’s clutch growing inside of you? When did you start to care about the chicks that are distorting your body, bloating you with the sin of your big brother’s deeds?

Keigo stares down at you- golden eyes wide for a moment before they soften, before something loving fills his expression. You cry whenever his hand cups your wet cheek, fall apart even more as you try so hard to swim through all your mismatched, contrasting feelings.

“...look at you,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your cheekbone and smoothing away your tears. “Such a good mama.”

Mama. You’re- oh, god you are a mama.

A choked sob leaves you and you press your lips against his when he moves to kiss you, fumble your hands over his back and wings until you can curl your fingers tight into his hair once more. He shudders as you kiss him back and his hands press firmly against your cheeks, his breathing grows just a bit ragged whenever he rests his forehead against yours and look down at you with adoring eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “I won’t hurt the chicks.”

How can you believe the words of someone that took you against your will? How can you believe the words of someone that’s kept you captive so long?

You can’t, but you want to- you want to believe, desperately, that your big brother is going to be good to you- that he’ll make his sins easier to deal with, that he’ll love you and care for you even in his crazed possession.

You’re giving into him, into the situation.

...but what else can you do?

You sniffle and Keigo kisses you again, noses against your cheek and then burrows his face into your neck.

“Won’t go inside,” he mumbles, hips canting and dripping cock rocking against your plush thigh. “Won’t hurt you. Won’t hurt our babies.”

The promises almost makes everything better.

You whine- so much softer than before- and your head moves in a weak, horrible nod. The compliance has your big brother shuddering against you and his lips find your nipple again, latch on as his hand moves back to your cunt, rubs against you and makes you arch.

“I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

You sniffle at the muffled words and you sniffle at your tears, the shameful pleasure building inside you, your weak and pathetic break that has you accepting all this instead of fighting like you should.

You sniffle, again, and nod as Keigo’s humping gets a little faster, squeeze your eyes shut tight as a tingle shoots through your breast, as your big brother gets the first taste of your milk.

“I- I love you too, nii-san...”

Keigo moans and you shudder as you rock your hips against his fingers, as you fall deeper into the twisted shambles that your life has become.

#Anonymous #keigo takami x reader #rooni's shit #tw incest #tw pregnancy #tw dubcon #if you think something else should be tagged lemme know!!!!#sorry for any typos but i'm sleepy u.u

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 3 years

Text

An old friend - Part 3

Summary: The picnic has come and so the time to face Anthony on what you discovered, but will everything go as planned?

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Other characters: Hyachint Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: slight angst (?), fluff, again some yearning

A/n: This has been quite difficult to finish, I had different ends in mind but none seemed to fit well the flow... I hope you’ll like this! Also, I may post other parts in the future but for now, count this as the final one. ENJOY!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Gif's not mine, credit to the rightful owner

When the time came to attend the picnic in Hyde Park, the day was nothing but perfect: the sun, for the special gathering, had decided to come out of the clouds to honor everyone with its presence and a warm breeze enveloped every figure walking through the gardens or simply resting on the grass with its embrace. Even the London sky didn’t look like its normal self, with no grey clouds all over; just a few white stripes painting the bright blue canva. In other words, the epitome of a summer day.

However, sat under the gazebo playing cards with Hyacinth, Eloise and Penelope, you felt much worse than a rabbit caught under the wheel of a carriage.

"Miss Y/N/L". You turned towards Hyacinth, who was pointing at the cards. "It's your turn"

"Very well..." you sighed, throwing in the space between the four of you the first card that came in your hand. Winning the game was the least of your problems.

You had spent all night rolling from one side of your bed to the other, playing and replaying every possible scenario in your head, looking for the right way to ask Anthony what you wanted to know without sounding too accusatory. Nevertheless, it was hard to face the man when he was nowhere to be found!

He had just a moment to greet you with a quick kiss on your hand - which, you couldn't help, had made your heartbeat rise as a river during a flood - before being taken hostage first of many beautiful debutants, second of their meddlesome mothers and lastly of some old friends from boarding school.

Right now he was somewhere in the park with them, possibly reminiscing of that one time they put black ink in the professor's shoes... or something similar to that, you imagined. You weren't so sure of what sort of jests could boys come up with.

"Miss Y/N/L". Hyacinth's voice reached you again through the bubble of your thoughts. You put down another card. It took you a second after that to realize that Eloise had no cards in her hands anymore, thus making her the winner.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry" you apologised, putting your left cards back in the deck. "I hope you didn't ask me anything while I was lost in my mind"

"Just if you were alright, miss" explained Penelope. "Did you sleep well last night? You look quite tired"

You sighed. There was no sense in keeping that a secret. "Not quite. Some matters just seemed to be stuck in my head and decided not to leave for the night"

Eloise's eyes sparked in interest. "What kind of matters?" she asked, eating a strawberry.

"Nothing relevant at all" you assured with a smile, but from the look on Eloise's face, you knew she wasn't finished asking.

"No irrelevant matter could keep anyone awake for an entire night" she pointed out. "But I know what matters could..."

Penelope sighed. "Eloise..."

"Family matters" she started, raising her index, "and heart matters". She bent slightly towards you with the Bridgertons' signature smile on. "Which does apply to you?"

You scoffed. "Neither, of course". As you lowered your gaze to the messy deck, the rays of the sun felt suddenly more focused on your face than on anyone else's.

"Heart matters, that is!" Eloise exclaimed with a single clap, her eyes smiling brighter than her grin. "Do we know the lucky gentleman who caught your eye? Or perhaps he is from the countryside? Don’t tell me: are you two secretly engaged?"

Before your cheeks became the same shade of wine, a deep voice intruded the conversation: "You shouldn't badger our guest with your inquisitiveness, Eloise"

Your head shot up to meet Anthony's gaze. Even though your feelings towards him were mixed at the moment, seeing him washed you over with a warm, soothing sensation, as the need of his touch grew within you.

Eloise huffed, standing up from her seat, immediately followed by miss Featherington. "You are a bore, dear brother. I have nothing else to say on this matter". Then, taking Penelope's arm in hers, she walked away, already whispering in her best friend's ear.

"Anthony, do you want to play with us?" asked Hyacinth, already preparing the deck for another round.

Anthony smiled gently at her. "Maybe later" he said, pinching lightly her cheek. "Why don't you go play with Gregory now? I've heard he wanted to see if he could find rabbits near the bushes... or perhaps even goblins"

Hyacinth gasped. "Without me?!". She quickly and clumsily got up in her dress and, after a small curtsey to you, she was running on the grass to who-knows-where.

Now that the cover was clear, Anthony laid down next to you, pointing his elbow on the ground to keep himself up. After adjusting in a comfortable position, he sighed, looking in the direction in which Hyacinth ran off.

"Should you think she'd be angry to find out I lied to her?"

You smirked, taking a card from the deck and fidgeting it in your hands. "About Gregory or the goblins?"

Anthony turned to you, raising his eyebrows. "Both?"

You shook your head, giggling ever so slightly. "You, Lord Bridgerton, are incorrigible: lying like this to your youngest sister... what a rascal"

A corner of his lips tilted upwards. "You should not talk like this to a viscount, miss Y/L/N" he murmured. His hand moved to your arm, his fingers stroking your bare skin, lighter than a feather touch and equally tingling. "I would say it was quite improper"

At this words you moved away from him, just enough so that his fingers could only touch the empty space between you. He searched your face but you were still staring at your card.

"I believe we should talk, my lord” you said, your voice still and steady more than what you expected. “However...", you looked at Benedict and Colin, who had just appeared in your sight and were directed towards the gazebo, "...maybe a walk would be best suited for such matters"

Even with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Anthony nodded, standing up again and offering his hand to help you. You gently accepted and he pulled you up. Nonetheless your feet got caught in the cover, making you lose your balance and ending up in his arms.

"I-I'm terribly sorry" you muttered, raising your gaze to his and finding him already staring at you. The warmth of his hands, steadying you, got past your gloves terribly easily and you found that being there, pressed against his chest, so near to his heart, was the only place were you wanted to be.

You took a couple of steps back, smoothing your wrinkled dress and taking a deep breath in. His closeness was like opium to you: even the slightest hint and you lost your mind; and unfortunately right now, you had to be present.

He cleared his voice, handing politely his arm to you. "Shall we go?". You nodded joining your arms and moved with him on the beaten pathway.

A few minutes passed in complete silence, as you tried to find the right words to start. Apart from sporadic pairs walking the opposite direction, you were the only ones strolling in the park at that time of the day, when the sun shines so bright it could make the blood in your veins boil; only birds kept uninterrupted their concert.

"Are you upset because I didn’t honor you with my presence all morning?" guessed Anthony, raising his eyebrows. “Trust me, I would’ve gladly spent more time with you than with any of my other acquaintances”

You shook your head, a smile gracing your face. "Certainly not, my lord: your family was very kind to me in your absence" you assured him. "Besides I'm not upset... I just want answers to what I've heard"

"And what, pray tell, have you heard?"

You moved your gaze from his; there was no way to sweeten the pot. "I've heard that, in certain circles, you are considered a rake; and" you added, before he could stop you, "that you've been spending time with various women last season, opera singers from what these rumours told me"

"And you believe these rumours, miss Y/L/N?". His voice didn't show any emotions but his muscles were tense as an arp string.

"That is why I'm asking you, my lord. I wish to believe it a lie, but your actions yesterday, as appreciated, had boldness in them... quite like Sir Feversham's"

Anthony stopped in the middle of the path, his jaw clenched. "Don't compare him to me, I am nothing like him”. His dark eyes seemed coal ready to be set on fire. “I would've never forced you into anything-"

"I know". You squeezed gently his arm against your side. "I know that, Anthony. Nonetheless, I’ve been wondering since last night if you consider me just as one of those opera singers and you’ll leave me alone like you did to them: my honor undermined and a broken heart to fix..."

"Do you really think I would do something like that?"

You raised your eyes to meet his. The lump in your throat, seeing the hurt look on his face, triplicated. "Haven't you done it before?"

Anthony clenched his jaw again, avoiding your gaze. Many emotions crossed his eyes before he closed them for a moment. Then, after giving a quick look all around, he started guiding you towards an almost hidden path through the hedges.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked, confused and slightly frightened by the sudden change of course.

He glanced towards you with his lips curved. "You did want answers, didn't you?". When you nodded, Anthony slid his hand in yours. "Then there is absolutely no need to worry, miss Y/L/N, I can assure you that" he whispered, preceding you in that natural maze.

As you followed him, jumping over ponds of mud, protruding roots and avoiding overhanging branches, it felt for a moment like you were back in one of the fantasies you two came up with as kids, exploring the deep amazonian jungle in search of a lost civilisation or a hidden temple behind a waterfall; you couldn't believe they belonged to such a long time ago...

The hedges surrounding you ended abrubtly, opening on a clearing that looked like an illustration from a storybook: the grass, kept perfectly cut in the rest of the park, reached knee height there and, in between the stems, flowers popped out in the vivid green, their bright colours catching your eye.

However what left you mouth agape was the modest pavilion in the centre. Its classic columns, with ivy crawling around them, had almost invisible cracks on their surface, and the marble, if once polished, was now covered with a thick layer of dust and dead leaves. Still, even so neglected, its ruined beauty left you speechless.

"How... how did you manage to find this place?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers caressing the tall grass as you approached the pavilion.

"In the most common and simple way”. At your confused glance, he smiled mischievously. “Hiding from my mother"

“You even hid from your mother, my lord?” you smirked.

“Everything to escape her matchmaking schemes” Anthony laughed before a sad smile appeared on his lips. “Nevertheless, it was years ago, when I was still allowed to act as a foolish young man, from time to time”. He left your hand and started unbuttoning his tailcoat.

As he took it off to put it on the marble bench, your gaze wandered on his shoulders and down his arms, framed by his tight waistcoat and usually concealed under that thick layer of blue velvet.

"Shall we start?" he asked, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

You took a seat and noticed how Anthony was wringing his hands, his body again all tensed up. Without uttering a word - it was his time to speak - you took his hand in yours, stroking your gloved thumbs on his skin.

"I must say" he started, "that the market’s gossip is quite accurate... but still not enough to be a reliable source” - then, after a sigh - “because yes, I am a rake - or at least I can be consirered one - and yes, I spent most of last season at the opera house. However, unlike what those women told you, my only company was one beautiful and indipendent lady, whose name I’d rather keep unknown"

He looked at you, almost asking for your permission. "Of course, my lord, I understand". Anthony nodded thankfully before letting his tongue on the loose.

He told you everything you needed to know, his gaze fixed on nothing, eyes lost in memories that you could only try to picture in your head. Every emotion he’d felt in the past crossed his face as he spoke of every step of the affair, from their first meeting to their very last goodbye. You saw how difficult was for him to remember that latter part, even though months had passed since then. After all, no love can ever be truly forgotten.

"Looking back, I’ve realized only recently that she broke my heart just as much as I broke hers" he admitted, his gaze falling on your joined hands. “She deserved much better than the transitory pleasure I was able to give her... I still slightly regret what we could’ve been, but there’s no use in mourning the past”. He stroked gently the palm of your hand. “I’ve found the present to be an unexpected and more appreciated bearer of happiness”

You blushed as his eyes set on you, a welcome sincerity lighting them. However, there was still something, in a deep corner of your mind, that wouldn't let you enjoy the moment completely.

"Thank you for telling me all about it, Anthony" you said, watching him trace abstract figures on your hand. "But I do have one last question"

He moved your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on your covered wrist and lingering with his lips on that small spot. "You can ask me anything, Y/N"

After a deep breath, you fixed your eyes in his. "What am I to you?"

He furrowed his brows, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"I do believe you fancy me" you started, looking away and fidgeting your hands as you spoke, "but I can't quite understand if your intentions with me are honorable or if you're simply using my company to your likings"

Anthony shook his head. “That’s nonsense, I would never-”

"Then do you intend to propose to me?" you asked, a rush of boldness flowing in your veins. “You know me, more deeply than any man I’ve ever met, and I found myself drawn to you in a way I’ve never experienced before... and I believe you feel the same”. He stared at you in silence. "I thought you wanted to marry as soon as you found a suitable lady..." you added, his stillness making your heart ache. "Am I not enough to be your wife?"

"Don't". Anthony cupped your face, his hands warm on your skin. "Do not say something like that ever again. You are not only more than enough, but more than I could've ever hoped to find... your intelligence astounds me just as much as your beauty hypnotizes me and I do believe you shall become one of the most accomplished Viscountess of Bridgerton that ever walked this Earth"

As his words beat in your mind ritmically with the pounding of your heart, you held your breath. "...but?"

"But I've rushed things in the past and burned everything I'd built to the ground, myself included. I don't want to make any mistakes with you, and if that means doing things properly, then be it". He stroked your cheek gently and you unconsciously leaned in his touch. "I've lost you once and I surely shall not make the same mistake twice"

You smiled, tears menacing to roll down your cheeks at any moment.

"Don't cry" he whispered, leaving a light kiss on your forehead and you laughed. His lips were as soft as you pictured them in your dreams.

"Don't mind my wet eyes... I'm just- I've never felt this happy before"

He smiled, placing one hand on yours. "Let's hope this will never change then". You nodded, smiling even wider.

So, as the sun went down and the wind kept blowing, you stayed there, talking, laughing, making up for all the lost time, in that little clearing out of time, and you wished you could stay there forever...

“We should go now” Anthony got up from its place. “It’s getting dark”

Making your way back in the reality it felt like waking up from a long, sweet dream, one that makes you wish you could sleep forever.

Your carriage was already waiting you at the edge of the park. Anthony helped you get into it as the gentleman he was. “Goodnight, miss Y/L/N”

“Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton” you smiled down at him, your hand still in his. “And thank you for the wonderful day”

He smirked and kissed your knuckles lightly, lingering again on the same spot where he kissed you for the first time. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady. I shall see you soon”

“Of course” you whispered not capable of even breathing. Anthony smiled, letting go of your hand as a footboy closed the door of the carriage. Then the coachman incited the horses and you were off in the night.

Resting on the soft pillows inside, you sighed, your eyes fixed on the stars outside the window. “Until next time”

Tag list: @lady1505 @truly-insatiable @littlemissbridgerton @anthonybridgertonsmistress @chaoticgirl04 @xceafh @latekate1807 @peoniarose @bridg-09 @michael-loves-chickens @beckachicago3 (tell me if you want to be added or removed💗)

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #penelope featherington #eloise bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton

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ivyyreid · 3 years

Text

stars in your eyes

2 description: reader is tortured, spencer tries and save her.

category: definetly angst, maybe a teeny tiny bit of fluff?

tw: death, mentions of cuts, burns, kidnapping, words like ‘whore’, knives.

masterlist

spencer’s pov:

the team sits around the table, at the sacramento police department conference room. well, everyone but y/n. y/n is also the reason the team is in the conference room.

while the team was tracking down an unsub, y/n was kidnapped, drugged, and taken to who knows where.

at 27, she’s the youngest member of the team so everyone is protective of her. but it’s not just because of her age. it’s because she’s just herself. funny, sarcastic, bubbly, bold, gorgeous, and affectionate. even her flaws are lovable.

we all sit at the round table, discussing where she could be. the only thing we know, is that she was taken as leverage, or as a warning. all our other theories on where she could be are a bit too far-fetched.

our unsub is a woman named coleen robbins. she’s been kidnapping, torturing, and killing girls in their 20s who resemble the girl her boyfriend cheated on her with. y/n fit the description exactly. y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and freckles. we didn’t notice until it was too late.

garcia's been on facetime with us for the past two hours, helping us trace pointless leads, or trying her best to track coleen. none of our efforts are working though. y/n’s phone is off, and coleen hasn’t used her credit card or anything. we’re at a loss.

hotch is pacing back and forth by the whiteboard, rossi is staring out the window, emily and jj are looking at every other victim’s file together, derek has his head in his hands, and I’m just sitting here. This is one of the only times where my brain is of no use to the team.

“hey guys?” Garcia’s voice is wobbly, somethings wrong. “i just got emailed a link. you’re gonna want to see this. i’m sending it to you now.” i’m racking my brain trying to think of what the link could be. i have nothing. that is, until a live feed pops up on the television. everyone gasps, and i feel all the blood rush from my face.

y/n is tied to a chair, in the middle of a dark room. there are burns, cuts and bruises all over her body. coleen stands behind her, twisting a knife in between her fingers.

“oh my god,” hotch mutters, and everyone else just stares at the television in stunned silence. “go on, you little whore. say your goodbyes,” coleen’s icy voice slips through the speakers in the room, and I hold back the urge to punch the tv screen.

y/n looks up, her face illuminated by a single light bulb. she smiles weakly. she’s the only person I know who would focus on others feelings in a situation like this.

“hey guys,” she says, her voice wobbling a bit. for some reason she’s smiling a bit. “i wish i could say bye in person, but this is the best i can do i guess,” she laughs weakly, and plays with her fingers; her nervous habit.

“rossi,” she starts, and he looks up at the screen, his eyes brimming with tears. “oh my god I’m going to miss you so much. you’re the only person I know who brings instant pasta in their suitcase, and you can always make me smile. just, keep being yourself, don’t change.”

“hotch, you’re like the strict, loving father I never had” her voice breaks, and she laughs a bit. no one else does. “you were always there for me, for my first dead body, my first case, everything. you’re the reason that i didn’t quit after my first case. you helped me get through it, and you can always keep me on track. i’ll miss you so much.” hotch tries to maintain a normal, serious expression but I can see the pain in his eyes.

“emily, you’re so funny and sarcastic and beautiful and amazing. i’m always wishing i knew more about you, you’re just so interesting! i still can’t tell if you were joking when you said you worked at a strip club or not,” a tear spills out of Emilys eye, and she mumbles something to the tv screen. “i love you endlessly, please please never change,” y/n says, and i see her blink away a tear or two through the screen.

“penelope, you’re probably one of the most unique, amazing people i’ve ever met. i remember on my first day i was so scared and nervous, and you just gave me a huge hug when i walked in, and I knew everything would be fine. i love your hair, and your outfits, and the way you greet the phone. i love you so much, never ever change or I will rise from the dead and perform some satanistic ritual on you” I hear penelope cry through the facetime video.

“derek. you’re just so great, and it will always amaze me how you always have a girl on your arm. i loved every second of getting drunk with you, even when you would force me to do karaoke. please do me a favor and marry penelope.” derek puts his hand on his head, and stays silent. i can see the emotion on his face.

“and jj, I don’t know how to thank you for being my first real best friend. i never really had people i could trust, but then i met you and i knew, i knew we would be friends until the end. you’re so gorgeous, i’ve spent hours wishing i was you. i’ll miss our saturday girl’s breakfasts, and our movie nights, and even you calling me at four am to say we have a case. love you forever.”

jj sobs, but everyone else is too upset to comfort her. i know it’s my turn for the goodbyes. but i can’t do it. i want to run out of the room, punch a wall, i can’t do this. i can’t watch her say bye to me, while i think about everything i never said, everything i should have said. i should have said it when we sat on the roof and watched the stars. i should have said it when we sat in the car and ate ice cream and listened to 90s music. i should have said it everytime we sat in the cafe and drank coffee with way too much sugar. i should have said it. but i didn’t. and now it’s too late.

“spencer.” y/n’s voice comes in through the tv, and i bring myself to look up. she has a sad smile on her face, and she’s holding back tears. “spencer, my best friend. not even my best friend. best friend was just too generic, you were so much more than a best friend. we were the type of people who would look at the stars together, and talk about constellations, and the theory of the universe together. we were the type of people who would come over to each others apartments at three am and watch movies or lay in bed and stare at each other and just talk. we were the type of people who would sit in the parked car, eating ice cream and forcing each other to listen to nineties music or beethoven. we would sit together in the police department for hours, drinking coffee to keep us awake while we tried to solve a case. we would laugh at each others jokes that no one else understood, and compare our opinions on classic novels. i remember the first day i met you, when i spilled coffee all over you in the elevator, and you told me this crazy fact about how meeting someone for the first time when you’re embarrassed strengthens a relationship. and then i remember i took you out for coffee because i felt bad, and then you accidentally spilled it on me. i remember getting home and laughing for hours. we were the type of people who were happier when we were with each other. and whatever star I was born under, you were born under it too. we’re not best friends spencer, we’re soulmates. and...and....I love you.” her voice breaks, and she looks at the camera with a nostalgic face, like she’s already gone.

i cry, i can’t help it. i just want to scream, ‘i love you too!’. i want her to hear me. but it’s too late. it will always be too late.

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

we’re all in the suvs. coleen gave us her location. i know i should be rejoicing, but it was what she said after she gave it. ‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’ I yell at morgan to go faster, even though deep down i know he’s doing everything he can.

‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’

after what feels like an eternity, we pull up to a small shed. everyone jumps out of the van, vests on, guns and flashlights in their hands. morgan kicks down the door, and we all run in. i hear hotch yell that he has coleen, but i don’t care. i need to find y/n. i run from room to room, panicking, until I reach a small porch at the back of the house. and y/n’s there.

she always seemed so large in life, but now, nearing her death, she seems so small. like a little girl. i hold back tears, i have to be strong for her. she’s lightly breathing, and watching the sky. when I reach her, i sit down, and cradle her head in my lap.

“i wanted to see the stars,” she whispered, and i nod, watching her face.

“remember that day…. that day in the park?” she says, tilting her head to look up at me.

of course i do. we had just gotten back from a long case, and y/n had me come to the park with her, to watch the sunset. we laid down in the grass, and watched the sky. i was still struggling with the case, and i was telling her about how awful it was, when she grabbed my hand, and pointed at the sky. look at how beautiful the world is, she had said. without hard cases, and ugliness, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate this. we wouldn’t be able to appreciate the beauty of everything, she told me, and I remember I had just stayed silent, watching the angelic-looking girl.

“of course,” I say, and she smiles up at me, blood dripping down her face.

“remember how pretty the sunset was? how beautiful everything was? you have to remember the beauty of that day, spencer. the sky was glowing, and trees were rustling, and birds were singing. the earth is beautiful. that was the day I knew i loved you. when I held your hand, and we just looked at the sky.” she brings a hand up, and touches my face gently. of course she’s the one who’s comforting me when she’s dying. i stay silent, cradling her head, and stroking her hair. she looks at me again, and i see pain in her eyes. “i don’t want to die, spencer” y/n whispers, her voice breaking a bit, “i don’t want to die like this. i don’t want to die, spence” a tear slips down her cheek, and i notice i’m crying a bit. “hey, hey, shhhhh” i comfort, wiping the tear off her face. she stares back at the stars. this is my chance to tell her. i know she’s going to die, and it’s completely pointless because she already knows, but I have to.

“i love you, y/n. i love you so much. i’ve loved you, and i don’t want you to go”. the girl turns and looks at me, a sad smile on her face. “i know, spence. and i love you too. so much”. I stroke her hair, wishing I could kiss her but i can’t. she looks at my red eyes, and my tear stained cheeks, and starts humming. humming a song. our favorite song. my head fills the lyrics in.

you’re a part time lover, and a full time friend.

the monkey on your back is the latest trend,

i don’t see what anyone can see,

in anyone else.

i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,

i kiss you all starry eyed my bodies swayin’ from side to side

i don’t see what anyone can see,

in anyone else, but you.

here is the church, and here is the steeple,

we sure are cute for two ugly people,

i don’t see what anyone can see, in anyone else.

suddenly, she stops and turns and looks at me, and suddenly i realize this is it. “i can see the stars in your eyes, spence” she whispers, and i watch as the breath leaves her body. the way she sadly smiled, before her eyes glazed over to look at the sky, the way her lips parted. and it’s kind of beautiful. but there was something sad and terrible about it too. because it was death.

i can see the stars in your eyes, spencer.

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fangirlincorporate · 3 years

Text

Happiness Doesn’t Last Forever

Just a little fic I wrote. I normally don’t post this kind of stuff on my tumblr page. I like to keep it on my AO3 but I’m really proud of it. I think it’s cute and wanted to share 🥰 so if you like Yatori fluff here ya go! Added the link as well just because.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33487336

*warning my writing isn’t the best. I write because it’s fun not necessarily because I’m good at it*

Hiyori walked behind Yato and Yukine, bouncing along behind them in her half-phantom form. The two were arguing over something silly, but it still brought a smile to her face. She had offered to take them out for dinner now that school was over. Unfortunately, she lost her body along the way so Yato had to carry her. She enjoyed these little moments with her friends. Cherished them even more than before since the traumatic events that occurred recently.

After the fight with Rabo, Hiyori's thoughts were constantly on the fact that she had forgotten the two of them. Guilt filled her chest every time they smiled at her. Despite knowing Nora had everything to do with that deep down she had a fear she really would forget them. She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

She didn’t even mind that Yato hadn’t fixed her body. Hadn’t brought it up for weeks. She was immensely happy that she could have more time with them. More time with him. A blush crossed her face, and the two boys ahead stopped to look back at her in concern.

“Hiyori?” Yukine asked, a small frown on his face.

She hadn’t realized she had stopped and was now standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Her eyes met Yato’s striking blue ones. She sucked in a breath like she did every time. Momentarily she forgot Yukine had even spoken. Not wanting to worry the two she plastered a smile on her face claiming to have gotten lost in thought rushing forward to catch up to the two. By the look on Yato’s face, she knew he didn’t buy it, but he played along.

His shoulder brushed hers in what she hoped was for reassurance, and she nudged him back ever so slightly. This has become a frequent thing between the two of them. She had been the one to initiate it. Despite having lost her memories she remembered how desperate he was to get her to recall those same memories. She has yet to forget the look on his face that day he stopped her in the crosswalk. Those blue eyes were filled with not only desperation but fear that rocked her to her core. She knew that Yato could disappear if he was forgotten. If he no longer received wishes. Kofuku told her about it.

In an attempt to reassure him she started to hang around more. Touched him more than she had before. Fixing his jersey even when it didn’t need to be. Brushing the hair from his eyes. Lingering closer than what was necessary. When he started to reciprocate that’s when she started to realize that it was her fear that had sparked the interactions.

She was terrified that he would just be gone one day. That something else would come around and kill him for good. Hiyori wasn’t sure if Yato had caught on to her feelings yet, but there was something in the way he would look at her that made her feel that he knew. He was an “all-knowing” God after all.

She watched them eat, and for just a moment allowed herself to relax. Glancing out the window having already finished her food she watched the birds in the trees.

Yato had brushed up against her leg sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes drifted in his direction, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. They sat there staring for a moment, legs resting up against each other.

He was still here. Little did Hiyori know that the God in question was thinking the very same thing. Yukine had finished his meal looking between the two. Groaning as he rested his chin on the table stretching his arms out in front of him.

“If you guys want alone time you can just say so.” He mumbled. A red tint to his cheeks as he glanced away from them.

Hiyori’s face heated up in embarrassment. Of course, Yukine would notice the change between the two of them. She stared at the table long enough to burn a hole through it.

“It-It’s not like that!” She squeaked out.

Yukine rolled his eyes. “Sure, and I’m leaving now.”

Yato hadn’t said a word during the interaction watching as his Regalia left. His knee pressed ever so gently against Hiyori’s.

Yato opened his mouth to speak, but fearing what he might say, Hiyori beat him to the punch. “We should go after him.”

Rushing up to the register to pay for their food Yato followed behind. Not really caring where Yukine had gone, Yato knew he would be fine. Yukine was right about him wanting some alone time with Hiyori. There was something bothering him about her behavior, but he humored her and followed her along as she went looking for Yukine.

At some point the God started to lose his patience. Now they were on the outskirts of the city walking through a park. Yato was about to grab Hiyori to get her to stop walking when she tripped. Before she could hit the ground though Yato had pulled her into his arms.

She clutched his jacket tightly dazed for a bit. He still hadn’t let go, and Hiyori didn’t mind when he held her just a little tighter. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, his sweet scent filled her senses. Enveloping her entirely, and he didn’t mind when she leaned closer resting her forehead against his shoulder. He was intoxicating.

They stood under the light of a street lamp. The sunset grew darker as night drew closer. “Hiyori.” Yato called her name, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t like hearing him say her name like that.

She pulled away to look up at him, and her breath caught in her throat. Those eyes were the same ones she saw standing in the crosswalk. The eyes she never wanted to see again, but there they were. Staring into the depths of her soul. Electric blue meeting her own magenta ones. She reached up, putting a hand to the side of his face. Subconsciously he leaned into her touch wanting it just as much as she did.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

“Like what?” He asked, his voice tight.

“Like you’re scared. Terrified. Desperate. Like I’m going to forget…again.” Her voice dropped, and all her guilt bubbled to the surface once again. “I’m not going to forget you. Ever.” She whispered the last word, dropping her hand back down to her side.

“Is that what has been bothering you?”

She nodded her response, already feeling tears forming in her eyes despite every effort to stop them. She didn’t want to cry. Not now, and not in front of him.

“Hiyori, what happened wasn’t your fault.” Yato put his hands on her shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” She whispered, “but it scared you didn’t it? Yukine too.” She blinked, and one of the tears she was holding back slipped down her cheek. Yato wiped it away with a stray thumb.

“Of course it did. You’re the only human who has remembered me. The only one who has seen me.” A lump formed in her throat at those words. “However, I believe in you. I believe you will remember me and continue to. So don’t cry Hiyori.”

“You’ll be sad though.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we stay friends, Yato. I’m going to grow old and die. I’m going to leave you eventually.” Hiyori clutched his jacket. “I don’t want to leave you knowing you’ll be alone again.” She gripped his jacket so hard her knuckles turned white. Her own desperation shining through her tone.

“I know.” He said resting a hand on her head. “And that’s okay too.”

Her eyes widened in shock at his words. She looked up to meet his eyes. Finding a sadness there that she couldn’t fathom. “Human lives are fleeting compared to us immortals, but I could disappear at any moment. I’m a nameless God. Hiyori, you have brought a light into my life that I wouldn’t pass up for anything.” He cupped her cheeks pulling her just a little closer. “I’d rather be by your side and be sad later on than walk away now only to regret it for the rest of eternity.”

Did he really mean that? Her heart fluttered at the thought. She was enamored by him, and everything he was. He captured her heart with those words, and she was left speechless. A God was confessing he would give anything to stay by her side. Her, a mere human.

“You’d give anything to stay with me?” She smiled cheekily at him. His words made her guilt fade to nothing.

He seemed to realize what he had said. He nearly stumbled back blushing furiously. “W-Well just about…anything.” He mumbled turning to the side so she couldn’t see his face.

Feeling a surge of confidence Hiyori reached up to his face, pulling him down gently. She stood on her tippy toes to place a light kiss on his lips. She spun on her heels turning away from him so she couldn't see his reaction. Her embarrassment overruled the confidence she had as her face heated to new levels. Meanwhile, Yato stood with his mouth hung open in shock staring at Hiyori’s back.

“Let’s go find Yukine.” She called back to him, turning to glance at him over her shoulder.

Yato stood with his fists clenched, and a blush dusting his cheeks. He couldn’t believe she kissed him. He wasn’t upset, he just wished he had been the one to kiss her.

While the moment was still fresh Yato tugged Hiyori into his embrace, lifting her chin, and returning the kiss. The kind that left your lips bruised, your mind hazy, and your body craving more. She leaned into the kiss grasping fistfuls of his jacket to steady herself. One of his arms snaked around Hiyori’s waist pulling her flush against him. She sucked in a breath of surprise which granted him more access. Hiyori was a little overwhelmed by the kiss, but didn't want him to stop.

Not sure what to do, she followed his lead. Their tongues danced, and she grew hot from the new sensations. Subconsciously she started to grind on him in her haze. He pulled away breathless and his own body started to feel the effects of kissing Hiyori.

“Let's-” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go find Yukine. He is probably at Kifoku’s by now.”

“Yeah. Let's do that.”

The two were blushing furiously as they walked in the direction of their friend's house. Hiyori wanting to hold his hand, but too afraid to ask. Yato, thinking his sweaty hands would gross her out, kept his in his pockets as they walked side by side. Every so often they would bump into each other only to turn red once more.

#noragami #yatonoragami #iki hiyori #yatori #yato x hiyori #anime blog #anime #fanfictions #fanfic #fluff #angst #bittersweet #too cute

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ayatosmlktea · 4 years

Text

Late Night Devil

A/N: This is my fic for the Citrus Dome Server collab! I’ve spent many hours crying over it, I hope you enjoy it! Make sure you check out the other pieces of the collab too because they’re written by amazing writers!! @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten

Read the other fics for the collab here!

Word count: 5.7k

Thank you @suckersuki for saving my ass and making this beautiful banner 💕

Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods. But you never expected one to answer…

Warm summer breeze tickled at your face, your hair flowing freely in front of your face making your nose itch. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you tune out the conversation your parents are having in favour of focusing your attention on the pavement ahead of you. Your eyes stinging and heavy from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting since the breakup. A bitter aftertaste stings the back of your throat as the events replay in your mind. The breakup had been sudden, although you couldn’t say you were completely caught off guard. Regardless of how underwhelming it had been, the way you’d been humiliated so carelessly had hurt your pride.

As you approached closer to the temple, a strange feeling of anxiety crawled into your stomach and pushed down heavily on your chest. It was unlike you to feel such unease coming to the temple of the gods, normally the divine power helped bring a sense of peace into your life.

Today was another story it seemed, maybe it was the fact that your emotions were all over the place and the pain and hate you felt slowly bubbling up over being cheated on were muddling with the rest of your feelings. Warm orange rays of sunlight slowly begin to peek over the tops of the mountains, shrouding the forest in a comforting glow. The sky is light with pinks and oranges, the dark blue night sky slowly fading away as a light cerulean takes over. It was barely six in the morning, but your family had always been adamant about being early to bring your offerings for the gods.

Nature seemed to come alive around you, birds chirping, flowers blooming with lush petals and vibrant colours. It was the summer solstice, a period of time where the gods’ presence was closer to the human world than any other time of the year.

However, despite it being such a juvinating day you were feeling anything but jovial. The basket resting on your arm was nearly filled to the brim with seasonal fruits that you had picked earlier that morning. The better quality the offerings and the more abundant they were signified a better season and prosperity blessed upon your family from the gods.

“Y/n what’s the matter?” your mother asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Nothing, just tired” you mumble hoping that she’ll stop questioning you before it starts.

“Well make sure you don’t walk into the temple like that, we can’t afford to attract any negativity this season” she scolds, something you’ve heard since becoming your family’s link between your world and the God’s.

When it had happened you were instantly filled with dread, the wellbeing of your entire family rested on your shoulders. Four times a year you needed to make sure that your emotions were in check, a single negative thought even for a fleeting second would have an impact on your family’s future until the next solstice. The gods were very picky when it came to their offerings, being the so-called spokesperson for your family meant that for the entire time you were in the temple you couldn’t think of anything else.

One minor distraction was enough to send a year’s worth of bad luck onto your family. You had never once messed up in the ten years that you’d been doing this, but it never stopped your parents from reminding you incessantly that you needed to be in the right state of mind. It was annoying, but you’d gotten used to it over the years.

Today however, you had little patience with your mother. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes you give her a tight smile and nod, returning your gaze ahead of you.

The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky, light pinks and oranges gradually fading into a light blue. The ruby red pillars of the temple gradually came into view, peeking through thick tangled branches.

The closer you got to the temple, the heavier the lump of dread feels in your stomach. It’s so close to swallowing you whole that you can feel the bile creeping up your throat. Sticky black fingers made of tar wrap themselves around your throat. The second you step foot onto temple grounds you can feel the atmosphere change.

A harsh warm breeze whips against your hair, running along your exposed arms and face. Almost like a warning, you need to get yourself together. Shoving down every negative feeling that’s made itself home in your body you take a few deep breaths and focus on calming your emotions.

From the corner of your eye you can see your parents give you a wary side eye but you flash them a reassuring smile. You can do this. You’ve done it a thousand times before, one stupid break up will not be the reason you bring bad fortune upon your family. You’d never hear the end of it.

As you walk up the narrow winding steps to the shrine you can feel the spiritual energy radiating from the soles of your feet up to the top of your head. The concerned gazes of your parents burn holes into the back of your head. Not only were you more in tune with the realm of the gods during the solstice, but the energy of the earth as a whole intensified as well.

Deep breaths in and out. Focus on the wicker handle of the basket digging uncomfortably into your arm. Anything to distract your mind from thinking about finding Bakugou kissing Cami-Nope.

Your grip around the basket handle tightens, small pieces of it begin to poke at your skin giving you something to focus your attention on.

When you finally reach the top of the stairs, your rage has finally simmered down enough to allow you to ease your death grip on the basket.

A heavy hand on your shoulder draws your attention up to your father’s solemn eyes. You were usually good at hiding your emotions, the fact that everything you were feeling now was on full display was irritating you to no end.

“I’m fine!” You reassure them once more but you can tell they don’t believe you. You can’t blame them, you haven’t told them anything about your relationship ending and you don’t intend to either. You knew you were acting differently these last few weeks but you didn’t need anyone else knowing about the humiliating way things had ended between you and Bakugou.

Your parents accompany you into the temple but being the spiritual link for your family, only you are allowed to enter the inner rooms which host the shrines for each god. In the beginning it had been exciting to you, but now years later it was beginning to feel like a chore. It didn’t matter where you were, four times a year you needed to come home and pray for good health and wealth and prosperity. You pass by Izuku on your way into the room, his presence was usually calming but the sight of him now only served to remind you of Bakugou. Forcing a polite smile on your lips you give him a small nod of acknowledgement before continuing on your way towards the altars.

The prayers had gone well, at least you had assumed they had. You had no problems with the gods, other than Enji who usually gave you a hard time regardless of how good of a mood you were in so you didn’t take it personally. Grabbing the empty basket you exit the room and make your way outside. Finally able to let your emotions pour out once more, you find yourself becoming fixated on the onslaught of hatred, revenge, and hurt that were lying dormant under your skin. You wanted revenge, you wanted to humiliate him the way he’d hurt you.

You didn’t understand why he’d done it, you had been under the false presumption that your relationship was fine. If it hadn’t been for Bakugou cheating on you in your own apartment, with the girl he’d told you so many times NOT to worry about you might have felt less bitter. But there was nothing that could quench your desire for revenge other than making him regret what he’d done to you in a way that would stick with him forever.

Blinking out of your daydream you realize that you’ve wandered into a part of the temple that you’ve never been to before. It’s darker and the energy feels heavier compared to the other sections. Your feet seem to move of their own will as you approach a door that looks as though it hasn’t been opened in ages. You expect to find it locked, but much to your surprise the handle twists open with no resistance.

The room is even darker than the hallway, a small window being the only source of light casting a gloomy look throughout it. Along the back wall of the room is what you think is another altar, except as you approach it it’s covered in dust. It’s apparent to you that no one has been in this room for a long time. Cautiously you wipe away the dust covering the plaque on the front of the altar.

“God of vengeance, Dabi” The second the name leaves you lips the door slams shut making you jump in shock. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and every nerve is screaming at you to run.

“Lost, dollface?” A voice you’ve never heard before but feels so strangely familiar at the same time makes you nearly jump out of your skin and whip around to face them. You had been facing the door ready to walk out, no one had been in here before you so where did the man standing in front of you come from.

You’re suddenly so dumbstruck that you can’t even formulate a response, your eyes are too busy taking in his unusual appearance. Spiky black hair, the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen with patches of his skin on most of his face and neck that are stapled together. Your eyes travel down farther and notice that not only is his face badly burnt but a significant portion of his body is.

The energy you’re getting from his presence is overwhelmingly not human, but it’s not demonic either. At least, you’re fairly sure it isn’t. Meaning that the person standing before you was a god.

“Don’t look so shocked, you did wander in here didn’t you? What were you expecting to find?”

“Who are you?” The question feels stupid of you to ask.

“Shouldn’t you know that already?” Your mind is racing with a hundred different things to say, but none of them make it past your lips. Something about him is different from the rest of the gods you’ve met before. There’s what feels like an underlying evil in him despite being a god.

“What’s on your mind doll? It’s obviously important enough to be thinking about while you’re in the presence of a God” His coy smile and low voice laced with honey and temptation make you want to answer him even though you know you shouldn’t.

“Why do you care?” Raising an eyebrow questioningly, a tiny voice at the back of your mind begins to scold you for speaking to a god so casually. Not only could he clearly incinerate you in a flash but he could also influence the fate of your family’s fortune. But you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit. For the last decade of your life you’ve spent it dedicated to bringing your parents good fortune only to end up with your own misfortune. You knew you were pushing it, you knew that one slip up and you’d never hear the end of it. But the rage bubbling it’s way slowly up your body almost feels like it’s growing stronger in his presence.

“I always care about pretty little things who wander up to MY altar with such negative energy.”

“Your altar? Funny how I’ve never heard of you before. Can’t be that important if your altar is blocked off from the rest of the temple. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving” Turning on your heel you start walking back to the door hoping that you’ll be able to leave before digging yourself a deeper grave.

“Now now, is that any way to speak to a god?” Within seconds the atmosphere changes, andBlue flames sprout up around you blocking you from leaving the room. They’re hotter than any fire you’ve ever been near before, you don’t even need to be standing directly in front of them to feel how much heat they radiate. Dabi’s eyes are glowing with such an intense gaze of lust in your eyes that it works its way under your skin.

It doesn’t take you long to understand why his shrine had been locked off from the rest of the altars. Dabi might have been a god but there was nothing heavenly about him. Gradually the smell of smoke began to fill your lungs in an unpleasant way despite nothing in the room burning.

“Wanna try that again? Maybe a little nicer this time huh?” Dabi’s body was right behind yours, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. Hot breath hitting against you making you shiver involuntarily.

“Don’t you have better things to worry about?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re standing in front of the god of vengeance. The one god who can help you work out this little problem you’ve got going on”

“Why do you want to help me so bad?”

“I like to think of myself as a generous god” He jokes but you can already tell that Dabi is anything but generous. His expression changes when you don’t lighten up at his attempt to change the mood of the conversation.

“What can I say, I love a good revenge story. It doesn’t hurt if they’re not bad to look at either”

Sighing, you begin to mull over his proposal in your mind. You can’t deny that it would be just a little satisfying to have a god on your side. It was petty, the dumbest kind of revenge that anyone could plot for but the images of Bakugou making out with someone who wasn’t you in your own bed no less were branded permanently in your mind. Maybe summoning Dabi was a blessing in disguise, besides, he was a god after all. It wasn’t like he was going to ask you for your soul.

“Fine, what do you want in exchange?”You figured the most he probably wanted was a bigger offering next season.

“We’ll discuss that when it comes up”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·

You weren’t even sure why Dabi had decided to waste his time in the human world. In his own words he was bored of being in his own realm and figured that sticking around your “depressed ass” would give him some form of entertainment.

Thankfully you didn’t live with your parents anymore, you weren’t sure how you were going to explain having a random man they’d never seen before stuck to your side twenty-four hours a day. In all honesty, you didn’t know why he’d been so interested in helping you get revenge on Bakugou but there wasn’t any need for you to question it. He was the god of vengeance after all.

Even if this did seem like a small and petty reason to help you out.

The first week you had been so caught in helping Dabi adjust to human life that you’d almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. You would have thought that for a god he’d have been at least somewhat competent at learning how to work something as simple as the shower.

You definitely hadn’t expected him to be standing in the bathtub naked, with the cockiest smirk on his face while you yelped and covered your eyes, willing with every fiber in your body for your heart to stop racing.

“Could you at least cover yourself before calling me in here?” You complain, still shielding your eyes as you walk over to turn on the shower for him.

“Can’t you just use your godly powers or whatever to just do it for you?” Mumbling mostly to yourself, you adjust the temperature before hurrying out of the bathroom, trying not to think about his dick and how badly you would’ve gotten on your knees for him if he had asked.

“That would be a waste of my godly powers then, don’t you think?”

You don’t even need to look at him to see the cocky smirk on his face. Slamming the bathroom door shut behind you, you rush back into your room hoping that he at least possesses enough common sense to know how to turn the shower off.

The following days go by with Dabi finding a new way to tease you, whether it was walking around the house shirtless or him walking in on you taking a shower. To say that you were up to your neck with the desire to have him fuck you senseless one minute and wanting to strangle the life out of him the next was an understatement. But according to Dabi, once you had both verbally agreed on the deal you’d made he couldn’t leave until the job was finished.

Meaning, that until you got revenge on Bakugou, Dabi was going to be sticking around. Throughout the time that you spent together, Dabi had told you more than you thought you would get out of him. How he’d gotten his scars, why his altar had been separated from the others. As much as people needed vengeance, praying to a god as powerful as Dabi meant that in the wrong hands his powers could very well cause irreversible damage. Not that he had a problem with it, but the priests had decided long ago that his altar needed to be kept away from vengeful hearts.

Until you came along of course, he’d immediately noticed your energy the second you had stepped foot in the temple. No matter how hard you tried to conceal your feelings, Dabi had noticed them and led you straight to his altar. You had been a little mad at first, having been so easily caught trapped but the more you thought about it the less you cared. Besides, you were beginning to enjoy his company around your empty apartment.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·

Finally, after almost three weeks of putting up with him, the opportunity to get back at Bakugou presented itself.

“Have you ever been clubbing?” you ask over breakfast that morning.

Leaning back in his chair, Dabi’s curious eyes meet yours.

“What are you planning?”

“Bakugou’s best friend is having his birthday party at this club and he’s probably going to be there too. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I can find someone else if you’re uncom-”

“I’m not uncomfortable. That’s what I’m here for right?”

“Well I was just asking since you’re like, what, a couple centuries old? It might be weird to go dancing with all these young people” you flash him an innocent smile at his unamused glare.

“Last time I checked your eyes were practically begging me to fuck you” He retorts making you choke on your coffee. Smirking in victory he leans in closely to whisper in your ear.

“Try harder next time doll”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·

The rest of the day flew by and the closer the time got for you to leave, the more anxious you felt. You couldn’t help but start to doubt everything about your plan for revenge. For all you knew, Bakugou could care less about who you were hooking up with as long as he was getting his dick wet.

“Are you doubting me?” Dabi teased as you make your way to the club.

“No, but you don’t know what he’s like.”

You didn’t need to wait long to get in the club, your tight black dress and Dabi’s “charm” were more than enough to allow you to skip the line and get in. His hand never leaves your lower back as you make your way through the crowd and towards the bar. The two of you down a few shots, the alcohol makes its way through your veins and before long you’re feeling pleasantly buzzed.

Grabbing Dabi’s hand you drag him to the dance floor, it doesn’t take him long to get the hang of grinding up on you and for once you’re not mad about him being a tease. His hand is firmly resting on your hip, you’re a bit more tipsy than you had wanted to get but the song the dj is playing is setting the mood making you hot and bothered. When Dabi’s lips start kissing their way along the side of your neck you’re more than willing to give him more space to leave a few marks.

Your eyes are closed as your bodies grind together and you don’t notice the way Bakugou is glaring with murderous intent at Dabi. Just as you’re starting to loosen up a distance voice snaps you out of your trance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Opening your eyes you find Bakugou standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

“What does it look like I’m doing. I’m dancing” the song that were dancing to ends and another more upbeat one follows.

“With him? I knew your standards were low but I didn’t think you were that desperate” He snorts, your blood instantly boils making the back of your neck prickle with rage.

“Hmm, let’s take this outside. What do you say?” Dabi asks with a playful tone in his voice.

“Whatever” Bakugou grumbles before shoving his way through the crowd of drunk dancing bodies.

Dabi and Bakugou confronting each other was something you hadn’t thought was going to happen when you’d agreed to let Dabi help you get your revenge on him. But as luck would have it, here you were standing in an alley outside of the club with Dabi in front of you and Bakugou glaring daggers into him.

“Oi, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but she’s mine.”

“Yours? Aren’t you the dickhead who cheated on her? Why would she want you back” Dabi’s laugh isn’t teasing like the ones you’ve heard before. It’s condescending, and you start to feel an energy you’ve never felt before radiating off of him.

“Tell me, dollface.” His voice is deeper and when he turns to look back at you his eyes are darker with what you hope is “Is this mutt really the one you want fucking you right now?” Bakugou’s jaw twitches and he clenches his fist ready to swing at Dabi.

“Tch, down boy” he sighs and just like that Bakugou’s body is slammed down to the cement. You’ve never seen Dabi use his powers before and it does nothing to calm the raging storm of lust about to boil over in your.

“Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to pick up where I left off before you rudely interrupted.” Your wide eyes are still focused on Bakugou’s form kneeling behind Dabi, until he grabs your jaw with one hand and backs you up against the wall.

“I’d much rather you focus on me than him” He mumbles, giving you a sly smile before claiming your lips in a heated kiss. His lips are so much better than you imagined, soft and yet rough at the same time. The cold staples on the corner of his lips lightly scrape against your skin but you don’t care. Sliding your hands underneath his shirt you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.

Your nails clawing at his back hard enough to make him hiss and bite down harshly on the sensitive skin where your neck and shoulders met. If your brain wasn’t so muddled with pleasure it might have been more painful but it only sent sparks throughout your whole body. It didn’t matter how tightly you grabbed him and pulled him closer into you, it wasn’t enough.

Dabi hooked your right leg over his hip, the other hand trailing up the back of your neck tangling his hand in your hair and pulling it back. The feeling of his lips sucking dark marks onto your flesh elicited a loud wanton moan from your lips. Your fingers buried themselves in his raven locks tugging his head up so you can slip your tongue between his lips. The hand holding your thigh tightens as a carnal growl makes its way up his throat.

Kissing a god was nothing like you’d ever experienced before, it felt like with each kiss he was stealing the air right from your lungs.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, Dabi could have ended your life right then and there and you would have let him. Throughout the past few weeks he’s been living with you, you’ve pictured this in your mind countless times. But you’d never thought that there was a chance in hell that it was ever going to happen. Yet here you were, back scraping against the brick wall of the club’s alley with Dabi’s fingers digging into your hips in a way that would leave their mark there for days.

His lips moved against yours like he was a man starved of touch and affection, his teeth bit harshly against your bottom lip pulling a half strangled moan from your throat. His hands, which felt like they were growing hotter every time he brushed against your bare skin, tightened their hold on your hips to grind you against his dick. The sharp hiss he lets out goes straight to your already throbbing pussy, something about knowing that you’re the one making him feel like this and lose control of himself just makes you want to push him farther and see how long it’ll take to break him.

Reaching down between your bodies you grab his hips trying to bring them closer to yours for more much needed friction. The action makes Dabi chuckle against your lips.

“Impatient aren’t we princess?” Dabi tries to come off as nonchalant but he wants it just as much you do. He’s been holding out for weeks, at first he just enjoyed making you flustered, pushing all your buttons to see how you’d react. But the longer he spent with you the more his feelings turned from curiosity to genuine interest and the small embers of lust that lay dormant in his gut had erupted into a fire that was rapidly consuming him.

It was dirty and rushed, teeth clacking together as you both tried to bring your bodies closer together until there was not an inch of space left between you. Your dress was now barely hanging on to your hips, but you couldn’t care less because the only thing on your mind was feeling Dabi inside you NOW. Rolling yourself against his dick the best you can while having one leg on the ground, you can’t help but smirk when Dabi moans into your mouth. His hand slides down your stomach, fingers teasing your thighs where the hem of your dress meets your exposed skin before inching closer to where you want him most. His arm sets your leg down in favour of spreading your legs wider for him, tugging your dress up even higher to give himself a better view.

“So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you yet” Dabi laughs in your ear, enjoying the way you inhale sharply as his fingers circle your puffy clit.

“Dabi, don’t be a tease” you shoot back, trying to sound as dominant as you can but instead it comes out as a breathy whine. The contrast of his soft top lip combined with the roughness of his bottom lip against your neck was making you dizzy. It was the perfect combination of pain and pleasure, and it was only serving to turn you on even more knowing that you had provoked him into doing this.

“You know, I was going to fuck you anyway but don’t you think it’s a little more vengeful if I show your charming ex how to really make you scream?” You were so distracted by the feeling of finally letting out your sexual frustrations that you’d forgotten all about Bakugou who was still under Dabi’s influence.

Before you can answer him, Dabi slides two fingers into you with ease curling them at just the right angle to have you panting against his neck. His movements are anything but gentle and he gives you no time to adjust to his pace as he works his fingers in and out of your dripping pussy. Your hands wrap around his biceps, allowing you to have some sort of stability while he’s finger fucking you fast enough to leave you light headed.

“Such a fucking tight pussy you’ve got doll” he chuckles breathlessly. His thumb nudges against your clit tightening the coil of white heat rapidly building up in your lower stomach. His fingers are hitting against your sweet spot so perfectly, every thrust knocking the air out of your lungs in breathy moans as he increases his pace.

The wet sloppy sounds of his fingers in you are only heightening your arousal. Dabi’s lips start sucking against the space between your neck and shoulders, making you tilt your head to give him better access. You’re so close you can feel yourself coming undone, without warning Dabi bites down hard enough to break the skin sending you towards your first orgasm. You don’t even care that you’re moaning loud enough for anyone to hear you, Dabi’s fingers don’t stop giving you no chance to recover.

“Come on princess, I know you’ve got another one for me. Cum on my fucking fingers like a good slut” his rough voice right against your ear does nothing to help bring you down from your high. You’re helpless to do anything but let yourself become putty in his hands as another orgasm leaves you breathless and nearly sobbing against him.

You whine at the feeling of his fingers pulling out of you, but you don’t have to wait long before he turns your body around to face the wall, bending you over and unzipping his jeans to free his aching cock.

“Remember when I said we’d discuss what I wanted in exchange for helping you out?” he asks, his voice raw with arousal as he slides the tip of his cock against your dripping folds. You can barely remember what he’s talking about, your mind is so focused on wanting to feel him inside you that you can barely keep track of what he’s saying.

“I think this is a pretty good exchange don’t you think?” Not giving you a chance to respond he grabs your hip with one hand and tangles your hair with the other while sheathing his cock fully inside you with one sharp thrust. Your nails dig into the brick wall as you fail to bite back a scream. He’s so thick that you can feel the veins of his cock rubbing against your walls with each thrust. The hand fisting your hair tightens its grip, pulling your head back towards him. Dabi’s hot breaths are hitting against the base of your neck, the feeling of him inside you is making your head spin with pleasure.

“Go on, tell him who’s fucking you this good” Dabi’s hips are slapping against your ass hard enough to bruise but you could care less.

“You are” you whimper but it’s not good enough.

“Say my fucking name” he growls in your ear before reaching down to rub hard circles against your clit.

“F-fuck! Dabi! You feel so fucking good” you cry out as another orgasm washes over you making your legs feel like jelly. You’re almost certain that anyone within a two block radius can hear how loud you’re screaming but you don’t care. Before you can process what’s happening Dabi pulls out of you flipping you back around to face him and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist he slowly pushes back into your hot walls.

“Such a greedy cunt you have, dollface” he grunts and you can’t do anything except nod. Your back hits the wall as Dabi’s hips rut against yours, the new angle allowing him to hit your g-spot with every thrust. His hand wraps around your throat, restricting your air flow and making your pussy clench around him.

“You like it when I choke you? Such a nasty little whore” he laughs, tightening the grip he has around your neck until the edges of your vision start to blacken.

“Your pussy’s so good I might have to keep you” You’re not even sure how he’s still managing to speak in full sentences, if there was anything that reminded you that Dabi was a god it was his insane stamina. He’d already fucked you through three orgasms without being anywhere near cumming. Not only that, but the force he was using the fuck you with was sure to leave you unable to walk for a week.

Your thighs tighten around his waist as he begins rubbing your clit once again making you whine loudly.

“Too much”

“You can take it baby” His fingers show you no mercy causing you to throw your head back against the wall. Your hands push against his shoulders trying to move him away but Dabi is a lot stronger than you gave him credit for.

“Cum on my fucking cock, you can do it. Show him what a good little slut you are for me” Your fingers are gripping his hair so hard you’re sure you’ve pulled some out as you cum around his dick, your eyes struggling to stay open as you feel liquid splashing against your thighs.

“That’s my girl, squirt all over my cock” His fingers grip your jaw as he brings your lips together in another heated kiss. His thrusts become sloppier and more rushed as he chases his own release.

“Fuck Dabi cum in me” you moan against his lips and he curses under his breath as he spills thick ropes of hot cum inside you. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you can barely stand on your legs when Dabi puts you down. You can feel his cum start to drip down your thighs as he presses a soft kiss against your lips. Your eyes finally gaze down towards Bakugou who looks like he’s about to burst a vein. His eyes are burning holes into your neck where dozens of dark marks litter your skin. From the sounds he’s making, you can tell he wants to say something but under Dabi’s control he’s powerless to do anything.

“How was that for revenge?” Dabi smirks.

“I don’t know, might have to try again at home” you reply cheekily.

“What makes you think you’re making it back home? I meant it when I said I was keeping you”

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