#「 t w s t. 」 ⇀ let us dance to this twisted rhythm ; I get a thrill out of being myself .

[rebelliousties]

“Are you truly friends if you have not attempted murder on each other the fun way through a fight to the death just within campus grounds?”

#「 ic. 」 ⇀ alone I walk the winding way ; here I stay . #「 t w s t. 」 ⇀ let us dance to this twisted rhythm ; I get a thrill out of being myself . #strytells #// ah the wonders of friendship

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s Entwining Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an incredibly s p i c y date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Valentine’s 2020 Collection: Gavin // Lucien // Victor

The date begins with MC watching a live broadcast of an annual award ceremony, which announces that Kiro has won the grand award.

MC grabs the congratulatory card and present she prepared, heading out to decorate Kiro’s house for a mini celebration party.

Along the way, she receives news that for some unknown reason, Kiro was absent from a product launch that he was supposed to be a spokesperson for.

She enters Kiro’s house using the keys Savin gave her and starts decorating. 

After a while, Kiro enters the house looking melancholic, with Savin nagging behind him. Savin tells her to keep an eye on Kiro to ensure he gets proper rest and not exert himself.

After Savin rushes off to deal with the press, Kiro explains that he is unable to move his neck and back.

Kiro: I just finished dance practice and heard Savin calling me at the door. I turned my neck using too much force and couldn’t move my neck afterwards. The doctor said it’s a sprain.

Saying this, he despondently grabs a pillow and hugs it to his chest in a state of utter devastation.

Kiro: [pouting] I wasn’t even doing any big movements.

Even so, Kiro is happy that he gets a day of rest.

He suggests that they slip out to visit an interesting shop nearby. While Kiro’s puppy eyes cause MC to hesitate, she refuses so Kiro can rest. Despite his unwillingness, Kiro rests on the bed. She sits on a chair next to the bed so she can watch over him.

He grabs my fingers and plays with them restlessly. It feels ticklish. I try to draw my hand back but he refuses to let go.

Kiro: I can’t sleep. When you spend time with me, I can’t bear to close my eyes.

Kiro’s words soften my heart. Due to our busy schedules, it has been a long while since we last spent time alone together.

MC: When we’re less busy, let’s go to the interesting shop you mentioned, okay?

Kiro: Yes, let’s!

The corners of Kiro’s lips lift. As though discovering a new form of amusement, he patiently plays with my fingers one by one. 

His fingers are soft and smooth. I experience a strange palpitation whenever our fingers meet. I avert my gaze, the outer rim of my ears turning red.

Kiro: Miss Chips has very soft fingers.

MC: [blushing] They’re all right…

I’m unable to control the acceleration of my heart rate. In order to loosen my hand from his, I grab the phone off the bedside table and hand it to him.

MC: Since you don’t want to sleep, I’ll let you use your phone.

Looking as though he can’t bear to let go of my hand, he takes the phone and sees that the screen is filled with tons of notifications.

Kiro guesses that his fans are worried about the sudden cancellation of the product launch and decides to post something on his Weibo account to dispel their concerns. He tries but fails to take a selfie in his injured state, so MC helps.

On the screen, there is an incredibly adorable combination of Kiro lying on the soft bed, his messy golden hair, and the teddy bear next the pillow.

Kiro: Why is my hair so messy?

His eyes widen, dismay written all over his features. I reach out and tidy his messy hair, suppressing the urge to mess it up even more.

Kiro obediently leaves his hair to me, a smile appearing on his lips.

MC: It’s going to be perfect this time.

I look him over, satisfied, and snap three consecutive photos of Kiro before showing them to him.

MC: Don’t you look very handsome now?

Kiro has a look of satisfaction as he starts typing, reading his words aloud.

Kiro: “Even though I can’t move, it’s because of this incident that I can have an afternoon of leisure”…done!

Comments start flooding in after mere seconds:

“Does such beauty truly exist?”

“Oh my god, I can lick this face for a lifetime.” 

“I’m there, I’m that bear!”

While he’s overjoyed at the compliments, he reads on:

Kiro: “Just look, it’s obvious he has put on weight again”…I definitely did not gain weight, it’s just the angle!

In a huff, Kiro readies himself to respond to this comment with a retort. I hurriedly take the phone away from him.

MC: You should rest and not respond to these comments! Let me read them to you instead.

Kiro: Since you put it that way…

With a “hmph”, he gives up on the idea. I clear my throat and begin reading the comments.

MC: “Congratulations to Kiro for winning the award! Please rest well today! To commemorate Kiro’s face, I danced a Waltz of love!” Haha, what an expression. “My heart is in critical condition! Hugging… my husband… feels like a 100 meter sprint.”

I pause when reading the words “my husband”, feeling my face heat up. Kiro smiles as he looks at me, his eyes brimming with contentment.

MC: The next one says, “Who took the photo? Why does Kiro…”

…have such a sweet look in his eyes?

I look at the photo I had taken - Kiro stares into the camera with a sweet look in his eyes, like a little bear hugging a honey pot.

Kiro: MC? Why have you stopped?

Kiro curiously sneaks a peek at the screen, but I react immediately and lift the phone so he can no longer see it.

Kiro: Very suspicious… why aren’t you letting me see?

Kiro gets even more excited, stretching out his hand for the phone.

Kiro: Ouch!

He groans and falls back onto the bed. I get a fright, no longer caring about the phone. I immediately check on his condition.

Half of his face is buried under the covers, the corner of his eyes brimming with tears. I carefully touch his arm.

MC: Are you okay?

Kiro: [groans]

MC: Is it very serious?

I start panicking. Seeing that my guard is down, Kiro uses this opportunity to pull me onto the bed with him.

Kiro: [laughing] Did I scare you?

He laughs while reappearing from under the covers. It is only now that I realise he was joking, and I let out a sigh of relief.

At this point, MC remembers that she prepared a present for Kiro. She retrieves and gives it to him. He opens it excitedly.

The box is filled with small stars folded using fluorescent paper. In the middle of these paper stars is a golden-coloured glass bottle with moving sand.

Kiro: This is so pretty…

He carefully shakes the bottle, and the gold-coloured sand slowly drifts, reflecting sunlight.

Seeing him engrossed with it, I drop him a hint.

MC: The bottle itself isn’t the main thing. There’s something in it.

Kiro: Is it a drink? Or perfume?

Kiro twists the bottle open, and a faint pine tree scent wafts into the room.

Kiro: This is… a scented bottle?

MC: Nope. This is a special essential oil I had an expert masseur make during a shoot. I heard that it’s effective for relaxing one’s muscles. I didn’t expect that it’d be of use now!

Kiro: Essential oil…

Kiro recalls that the shoot involving essential oil took place when the list of shortlisted candidates for the award was just announced. He is surprised that MC had prepared the gift so far in advance.

MC: …That’s because I knew you would definitely win! And even if you didn’t win, it could be used to comfort you.

There is a smile in Kiro’s eyes, and he takes my hand in his, such that my palm faces upwards.

MC: W-what are you doing?

Kiro: I want to try this gift.

A drop of oil lands on my palm and he rubs it slowly, spreading it across my palm evenly. The pine scent permeates the room, and the fragrance of fresh flowers soon follows. The liquid is quickly absorbed into my skin, and my palm seems to heat up.

Kiro holds my fingers gently, then brings himself closer to them. He sniffs my fingers lightly, his lips curling into a smile.

Kiro: It’s a nice smell. It’s a scent I like.

MC: !!

I am taken aback by Kiro’s sudden breath on my palm, and my heart beats at an unnatural rhythm.

Kiro doesn’t let go of my hand. He picks up the black ribbon resting on the gift box, taking his time to wrap them around my wrists.

His gaze shifts to me, his vibrant eyes making me forget how to react, and I let him continue.

Kiro: And like that, it’s done!

After saying this, he holds my wrist and pulls me closer, planting the side of his face on my palm before gently leaning into it.

As his soft golden hair brushes against my fingertips, my fingers involuntarily tremble. My palm is coated with his body temperature.

He tilts his head slightly, pressing his lips onto my palm, as if branding me with a permanent kiss.

Kiro: Actually, you are the best prize and gift to me.

Sunlight streams in from between the curtains and onto his eyes, giving me a clear view of the gentleness and adoration in them. My heart feels like it has melted into a puddle. At the same time, his transparent emotions cause my heart to heat up.

MC: I… how about I give you a massage…

I feel like biting my tongue after the words leave my lips. What am I saying!

Kiro: Sure!

Before I can change my mind, Kiro has already agreed without hesitation.

Kiro: Do I need to take my clothes off for the massage?

Saying this, he shrugs off his jacket, and both hands start pulling the ends of his t-shirt to reveal his sculpted abdomen.

MC: Wait!

Heat floods into my brain and I immediately grab the bottom of his shirt to pull it back down.

Kiro: I don’t need to take them off?

Kiro blinks, looking at me innocently.

MC: I’m just giving it a try. If you remove your shirt, it’d be easy to catch a cold.

With an “ohh”, he lets go of his shirt, his face betraying a hint of disappointment.

MC: …Go lie down on your stomach.

While Kiro obediently turns to lie down, I place my hands on my chest to calm my rapidly beating heart.

MC begins the massage, applying what she learnt from the massage expert

She does it gently and Kiro is on the verge of falling asleep

She calls Kiro’s name to check if he’s asleep, and he snaps out of his daze

Feeling bad for disturbing him, MC continues:

MC: …You can sleep if you want to.

I speak gently. Noticing that a strand of hair near his eyes makes Kiro slightly uncomfortable, I reach out to sweep it away.

Kiro: But I don’t feel like sleeping anymore.

He blinks, his voice slightly nasally and coquettish.

Kiro: I felt too comfortable just now, so I almost fell asleep.

He grabs hold of my hand. In a playful manner, he gently pinches my palm twice.

Kiro: Thank you, Miss Chips.

MC: No need to thank me. It just shows that my technique is not bad, right?

Kiro: Mm, this is a great present.

His eyebrows are curved upwards and he smiles softly.

Kiro: I like the feeling of you touching me.

He interlaces our fingers together, then hooks my thumb with his.

Kiro: I realized that humans, like animals, like to be touched and have their hair combed through.

MC: Is it because it’s very comfortable?

Kiro: It is really very comfortable. If that person is a loved one, her hands and body temperature would have an even more addictive effect.

A warmth emanates from our joined palms, and I can feel myself starting to sweat.

MC starts ruffling Kiro’s hair, and they banter for a while.

Kiro: I feel very happy whenever you’re by my side. Although sometimes, I do think of being a little closer to you.

Even before I pick out the hidden meaning in his words, I instinctively seek to change the subject.

MC: My massage techniques are quite mediocre though. I’ll introduce you to the masseur another time.

Kiro: I don’t want anyone else.

Kiro pouts, turning to face me.

Kiro: I only want my Miss Chips…

His voice trails off, and I am rooted to the spot. I am leaning over him, face-to-face with Kiro. Just a slight lowering of my head would be enough for me to kiss him.

Our breathing becomes ragged, and the initially peaceful atmosphere in the room seems to turn into boiling water.

Although Kiro doesn’t speak, I can feel his quickening breaths on my face. His grip on my hand tightens.

As though being in this position is too dangerous, I come to my senses and straighten up, putting distance between us.

Kiro sits up, his hand still on mine, giving me no chance to escape.

MC: We…

Kiro: I have not finished unwrapping my gift.

His words leave me frozen.

MC: What present?

Anticipating that I would respond this way, he laughs. 

Kiro: My present… is you of course.

His voice carries an evident smile. I look into his blue eyes, which hide within them the expansiveness of the sky.

A black ribbon appears in his hands, and he wraps them around his fingers, the colour of the ribbon striking a sharp contrast against his pale skin.

MC: …Why do you say that I’m the present?

He doesn’t respond. His abrupt silence leaves me not knowing what to do. Before I repeat my question, he suddenly hooks the ribbon over the back of my neck, and my heart skips a beat.

MC: W-what are you doing?

Kiro: Make a guess?

He arches an eyebrow. His usual playful expression is replaced with a sudden sexiness.

He resumes his work with the ribbon while I remain kneeling on the bed. He slowly pulls me closer to him. Although he isn’t exerting much strength, I can’t help but give in to the tug of the ribbon.

Our breaths mingle and we can no longer tell them apart.

Kiro: Since this is a present for me, I will open it very, very slowly.

He says this languidly, curling his words with the tip of his tongue, ending his sentence in a low voice.

At this moment, the ribbon has become a string encircling my heart, letting it beat only for him.

Kiro is unwilling to stop here. He takes one end of the ribbon into his mouth and bites it firmly, the corners of his mouth lifting with a certain look.

The light descends onto the bridge of his nose, the clear lines of his jaw, spreading to his Adam’s apple. He oozes hormones of a different kind than usual.

His free hand rubs my thigh gently, and the sound of my skirt ruffling is especially clear.

Such unobstructed physical contact feels like fire, setting every inch of my skin ablaze. My body involuntarily trembles.

My breathing becomes increasingly ragged as he continues his upward motions. My heart beats rapidly, and my mind is completely blank, only remembering to shout his name.

MC: Kiro…

Kiro: It is time to receive my present.

The corner of his mouth is raised as he slowly releases the black ribbon on my neck. The ribbon slides down my body. I look into his wide eyes and let down my defenses. In a moment, the distance between us is barely visible.

Kiro: Miss Chips, you are a gift sent from heaven, a gift that I have awaited for my whole life, a gift that is most precious to me.

His gentle voice disappears into the space where our lips meet, melting into a quiet whisper.

Unlike his gentle tone, his kiss resembles a storm, forcefully entering and occupying all available space, leaving not a single crevice untouched.

The temperature rises sharply between our intertwining lips and tongue. Our exchange of breaths strips away all my senses and thoughts.

The almost inaudible sound of water echoes in the quiet room. The arm encircling my waist pulls me even closer against his body.

All the blood in my body is set ablaze, engulfing the little rationality I have left.

Suddenly, there is the sound of a door opening in the living room, followed by a conversation between Savin and the assistant.

Savin: Kiro should be resting. You can head to the kitchen to wash the ingredients for our hotpot later.

Assistant: Sure, but isn’t this a little too much…

I snap out of my daze after a few seconds and realise the situation Kiro and I are in.

MC: They’re back!

My panic completely dismantles the earlier atmosphere, and I muster the strength to tear myself from Kiro’s arms.

Even before I shift to the edge of the bed, Kiro wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me backwards.

We both fall onto the bed, a tangled mess of sheets beneath us. The teddy bear has fallen off the bed.

Kiro holds me tightly from behind, and my back is pressed against his chest.

Sweat soaks the fabric, which clings to our closely connected skin, bringing with it an intimate and sticky feeling.

I feel his scorching breath on the nape of my neck. It weaves through my sweat-drenched hair, lingering on my skin.

The sound of footsteps outside grows louder, causing me to tense up. I open my mouth to speak, but can only let out an inaudible gasp.

Kiro’s lips are pressed against the back of my ear, and a low and raspy voice follows.

Kiro: There’s no need to be nervous. The room is locked.

🎁

Phone Call

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #sunshine boy has grown up

[fvrxdrm]

City of the Living Dead

Chapter 6

"September 28, 2:30 am... It's down to just me and 3 others. No weapons...no ammo...and too many skirmishes have drained us mentally and physically. We're not gonna make it... Officer Phillips once suggested we escape through the sewers. Apparently, there's a secret tunnel under this place left over from its museum days. I brushed her idea off before, but now, it's not sounding all that bad. Yeah, there's no proof there's even a tunnel or that the sewers aren't infested with zombies, but I don't wanna sit here and wait to die, either. It's a long shot, but I'm gonna try to find out what I can about that tunnel... Elliot Edward," you read, "Shit. Rest in peace, buddy." You placed the transcript back to where you found it and proceeded in scanning the room you and Leon were in.

It was an office of some sort with mahogany desks occupying the center, swivel chairs pointing towards every direction, some paperworks piled in a stack and some (or rather most) cluttered all over the tables and floor. It looked like a hurricane together with an earthquake and a tsunami clashed and crashed in the area.

"Leon, w-" your head twisted and turned as you looked for best friend and even called out to him when you found him just staring at something on the ceiling, his trembling lips pinned in between pearly-white teeth, eyebrows furrowed upwards, and eyes looking like a dam was about to breakdown because of too much pressure. You went towards where he was standing and followed his gaze. You gasped. He was looking at stringed triangle banners with letters printed out on each of them

WEL COME LEON

Your face began to mirror Leon's but a pained smile differentiated yours from his as a sudden rush of memory enlightened your brain. "Hey, look, the design's the same as the banner I surprised you with when we were 15," you said, raising an arm to point at the triangular flags.

Leon chuckled softly at what you said and nodded while a sneaky tear flowed down his cheek in a tiny stream. "Yeah."

"Come on, Leon! I worked hard for this." You hauled on your friend's wrist and led him towards his room with a strain as Leon's languor held him back.

"This better be good, Y/N. You fucking woke me up and I'm really close to fucking strangling you." His voice was a little hoarse from having just woken up right before you pulled him off of the couch and he was still lowkey tired because of the three-hour rest he had last night, but as much as he wanted to throw you out of his house and fall into a well-deserved slumber again, he was into surprises and was curious as to what you had in store. So, he went along with it even though he was pretty much a sloth still.

"I promise you'll love it." You chortled.

Leon sighed in defeat before loosening up and letting you pull him towards where you wanted to take him for this so-called surprise with a rub of his crusty eyes.

When a familiar door came into view in front of you, you covered Leon's eyes with one of your hands and twisted the door knob, revealing a bedroom with a banner hovering over Leon's messy bed, before lightly pushing him inside.

"All right, here we are," you spoke as you removed your hand from your face, moving right beside him to watch Leon's face as it shifted from being enraptured to crestfallen real quick. You guffawed in a boisterous way at his reaction and plummeted down to the ground whilst clutching your stomach in a joyful pain.

YOU SUCK LEON

"Really, Y/N? This-this is what you wanted to show me?"

"It's true though, you actually suck!"

"Come on, you know you only won in Street Fighter because I let you," he whined. You stood up from being laid on the floor before clutching onto Leon's shoulder for dear life.

"For 20 times? Really?" You laughed again, "nah, you just suck, bro."

Leon narrowed his eyes at you with lips pressing tightly in a thin line and turned towards you, his feet moving slowly in tandem as he approach you with a spurious anger, his hands closing into fists.

"What?" You asked with a nervous chuckle and feet backing up in rhythm with his laggard advances.

"You think I suck?" His voice imitated a dark tone. Had you not been slightly scared - which you hated to admit - you would've busted a gut at how ridiculous it sounded.

"I mean, yeah, it's already said in the banner, dimwitt."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Well, let's see who sucks now!"

Welp, that's my cue!

You dodged Leon's attack by the skin of your teeth, stumbling on a stupid pencil for a bit, before proceeding to run around the house to avoid Leon's "spider fingers" as you call it and making a tiny bit of a mess. However, your luck has gone away and he eventually caught you when you accidentally tripped over the leg of a chair, throwing you into his bed and tickling each spot that would make you squirm and and laugh.

"I still suck, huh?"

"N-no, fine...y-you don't...s-suck," you cried in between heavy breaths and hysterics. Satisfied with your remark, Leon stopped his fingers from moving and plopped down beside you, taking a moment to catch his breath before he pulled you closer to his body and spooned you. "You still couldn't win yesterday though."

"Yeah, well, I know a million ways to win your heart though."

"Fuck off, Le-le." Leon tsked at the nickname.

"Y/N, that sounds awful as fuck."

"Whatever." You felt his lashes kiss the nape of your neck as he closed his eyes to give them another four hours of rest, your own following afterwards when you heard Leon's muffled voice vibrate against your shirt.

"Hey, you wanna be my date for homecoming?"

"I thought you already asked Lexee to be your date."

"Dante already asked her out, so..."

"Okay, fine, I'll be your date." You squeezed his hand before intertwining your fingers with his and smiling when you felt him kiss your hair.

"Thanks, Y/N. Good night."

"It's 10 in the morning, dumba-"

"Shh... Rock-a-bye baby..."

"You do suck though." You light-heartedly nudged Leon's side and wrinkled your eyes in a grin, chuckling when he returned the gesture with a titter.

"I really don't," he retorted back.

"Sure." You took his hand in yours and gently squeezed it in a comforting way to ease the two of you before placing a feather's kiss on the back of it. "Come on, we still have a job to do."

*****

Leon S. Kennedy, we're putting you on a very special case for your first assignment. Your mission is...to unlock your desk! The key to your success is in the initials of our first names. Input the letters in order of our desks. There are 2 locks- 1 on each side of your desk. Make sure you get them both. Basically, your first task is to remember your fellow officers' names, but you figured that much out, right? Good luck, Leon. By the way, it might take a little work to get Scott to give you a straight answer.

Lieutenant Branagh

Scrawled in a corner between drops of blood on the paper was an additional note the lieutenant had written while he and his fellow officers were isolated and trapped, and it read:

Be glad you're not here, rookie.

"Remember your fellow officers' names..."

"I think that means the initials of my supposedly co-workers' names should be the password to open these locks on my desk." Leon stood up from where he was knelt down on the floor and casted around from desk to desk, unlocking the padlocks on his table and claiming the prize after accomplishing his "first assignment" - a magazine for his beloved Matilda.

You smiled when Leon pulled out the gun he's had since the beginning of his adult years, another retention reminding you of the peaceful days you once had before you started walking right into confusion.

Matilda was a gift Leon's father had given him on his 18th birthday, a few months before he died of cancer. He was happy about it, and knowing how his family had supported his decision on him becoming a cop, his heart fluttered inside and he couldn't be more grateful about it. Leon held onto it everyday, even becoming a bit hesitant about leaving it behind whenever he went to school. And when his father passed away because of said illness, he grasped onto the weapon the same way he did when his dad was still alive, if not more.

"Happy birthday, Leon. Happy birthday, Leon. Happy birthday, happy birthday... Happy birthday, Leon... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEON!"

Leon's cheeks stretched in an almost painful way as everyone erupted into cheers and confetti fell from the ceiling. Each person was wearing cone-shaped hats and the living room was decorated with different ornaments colored in his favorite hues. His family was there and so were his friends, and oh, how could he almost forget...

It was his 18th birthday!

"So, what do you think?" You spoke from behind him. He turned around to see you smiling like an idiot and tugging on the string of a party you picked up from the floor.

"This," he began. "This is amazing! Wh-"

"Well, son, the candle's almost melting. Wanna make a wish?" Leon's dad emerged from behind the small crowd with a three-layered cake balanced on top of his palms. The icing of the pastry was blue, edible police-related finishing touches garnished it with such perfection he almost didn't want to eat it for the sake of admiring and staring at the cake, and a single candle formed into the number 18 as an emphasis to his recent age was placed on top with a tiny flame dancing around in the air. Leon closed his eyes and wished for the best before blowing the candle, watching as the fire disappeared into a swirling smoke. Everyone rejoiced once again.

When voices had began dying down one by one, Leon's father called his name and picked up a box from underneath the table after placing the cake down where it wouldn't fall down.

"Leon, you're going to be attending the police academy soon and in the next few years you'll be the cop you always wanted. So, as a gift, I give you this gun." He opened the rectangular cardboard box where a gun laid and presented it to his child, Leon's eyes sparkling in delight at his very own weapon. "I know you'll be taking good care of Matilda."

"Matilda?" Leon asked in confusion.

"You know, like, Mathilda from Leon: The Professional," his dad replied. Leon chuckled in response before he carefully took the gun out of its container, still a bit iffy about touching it.

"I'll be taking good care of this, dad."

"I know you will."

"You still have that gun?" You spoke as you gestured towards his firearm.

"Yep, she still looks good as new. I didn't want to break my promise," Leon responded. He turned his gun around to show you just how much he kept it safe like a mother would to a child. Your E/C orbs twinkled in admiration, a feeling in your heart you had kept for a very long time flittering in a joyous manner for the first time since you last saw him.

"Nothing's really changed, huh?"

"I don't want to change anything for now...especially now that you're back here with me."

*****

So, I found this image on google and an idea suddenly popped into my head lmao.

Anyway, WE'RE BACK! I was busy in school blah blah blah. I think yall know that already.

#leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leonxreader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #residentevil2 #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic

[lord-explosion-baku]

Shinsou x reader

Warnings: DIRTY!!!! Kinda fucked up!!! Swearing, N-s-f-w

A/N: I kinda kept this short and sweet. This is rated (18+) and everyone is aged up to 18 or older. I didn’t really know how exactly to go about this but I did what I could??? I hope I don’t disappoint. I saw this ask and thought it would be easy but then!!! I struggled!!!! I am a desert lizard!!!! Also I made it so like his quirk works for only a moment. Maybe the reader has some kinda quirk that deals with the powers of the mind as well?? Who’s to say.

Shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, turning his head every which way to ease the built up tension. He had trained hard that day, taking Aizawa’s lashes and harsh lessons with every fiber of his being. He’d earned his spot in class 3-A and he had to fight everyday to prove to everyone, especially himself, that he deserved to be there.

Of course, the fact that you were there, going at it while sparring with his other classmates may have pushed him to train a little harder that day. The way your skin glistened while your body moved, throwing tactical offensive moves out like they were second nature. Shinsou thought you were just as talented as you were attractive and he wanted you to watch him just as he watched you. He wanted to impress you.

Shinsou sighed, stripping off his sweaty t-shirt and tossed it onto his dorm room bed. He laid down and gazed down at his constricted bulge. Yeah, that’ll happen when he thought of you. It was also the reason he had to leave training five minutes earlier. It was despicable how his own body could betray him at his arousal. What could he do but cave in to the carnal needs of his hormones?

He pushed past the hem of his pants and palmed his member, thinking about your body, shamefully lingering on the thought of your cleavage pressed up by your tight sports bra. The gym rules stated that students had to be fully clothed while training but you had a habit of breaking that rule and Aizawa had grown tired of writing you up for it. Shinsou didn’t mind. He was so fond of that wry grin you had given him when you caught him staring. Ticklish thoughts of you finding out exactly what he did after watching you like that would have embarrassed him if it didn’t make his shaft throb in his hand.

He sat up, leaning over and the bed, kicking his boxers off, he dug his nails on his thigh while his other other hand rubbed himself furiously. He pictured your soft lips wrapped around him, looking up at him with your beautiful e/c eyes, and moaning while you took his length in.

“Fuck, L/N,” he groaned, eyes rolling back, picturing it was you who was pleasing him. God, he wanted you. He wanted you. He-

The door is his dorm swung open. “Hey Shinsou, I brought you your-!!” Your eyes widened on what Shinsou was trying very hard to cover up. “Oh!! God!”

“Fuck! L/N!!”

“Ohhh, I’m sorry!” You yelled, hoping out of his room and closing the door behind you. “Ohhh nooooo!”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Shinsou called back, slipping his sweats on. His face was tomato red as he walked to the door., resting his forehead on it. Why hadn’t he locked it? “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” there was a pause. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard my name.”

Shinsou stilled. Well, shit. He heard giggling from the other side of the door. “You said my name, didn’t you? Ohhh my god!”

Growing past his embarrassment, he actually cracked a smile and playfully hit the door. “It’s not funny.”

“Noooo, you’re right,” you laughed and cleared your throat. “I should’ve knocked.” You were far too cool with catching him wacking himself off to the thought of you. What did that mean?

In that singular moment, Shinsou came up with a terrible and devious idea. He knew it was horrible but he was already too excited and you were right there.

He grinned. “Hey, what did say you brought me?”

“Oh! Yeah, you left your scarf thingy and Aizawa told me t… …”

Shinsou licked his lips and ran his hands threw his hair. He paced around the room trying to really think about what he was doing. He let out a long sigh and sat on his bed.

“Come in,” he called and watched you, blank faced, enter the room. “Lock the door.”

He commanded you to his bed and his sweats once again slid down. He stroked himself hard, admiring the figure set before him. You were still in your gym clothes. They were so tight against your body but he wanted, no, he needed more.

This is so fucked. “Take off your bra.” His half lidded eyes watched you strip for him. The scent of your natural perfume and the sweat you made while training was intoxicating. And god, you were beautiful.

“Touch yourself,” he didn’t specify where he wanted you to touch your body but there were no complaints while your delicate hands started to rub your breasts. Distracted by the rising and falling of your plush flesh, Shinsou didn’t notice the slight grin on your face.

He commanded you to your knees. You looked up at him, still obeying his previous request, and started rubbing your thighs.

He stood up and looked down at you with ravenous eyes. “Stroke it.”

Soft hands starting moving gently against his shaft. He caresses your cheek ever so subtly and sighed at the contact. Receiving those sensations from you trumped the burning guilt boiling inside his chest. Shinsou didn’t think twice when your tongue made contact with his head. You lapped at him, rubbing him against your lips before taking him in. The arrival of your warm and wet mouth left him grasping back at his sheets, replacing the urge to grab your hair. He couldn’t risk waking you… little did he know…

He gasped when you licked a stripe along a thick vein. “God, that feels so fucking good.”

You pulled your mouth away from his cock. “Does it?”

He froze while you grabbed the base of his member and started to pump harder, a knowing grin slid across your face. “Yeah, I bet this feels reeeal good now that I’m not your lil fuck puppet, huh? I wonder, how far did you think you were gonna get? And what were you going to say to me once you were done?” You twisted your hand around his girth and he let out a low groan. “Wow Shinsou, I knew you were a pervert but I had no idea.”

Shinsou knew he had been caught and thought about apologizing immediately. Fuck, he should’ve probably been begging for your forgiveness, insisting that he would do absolutely anything to get you to not tell anybody about what had gone down but he couldn’t overlook one minuscule detail: you were still touching him, looking up at him with lust in your eyes and mischief in your smile. You liked this.

Shinsou smirked. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Your grin only grew wider. “Guess I’m just gonna have to torture you.” You kissed the tip of his sensitive prick before tonguing it, swirling your tongue around his head at an agonizingly slow pace. Your ran your fingers up his bare, muscular torso and raked your nails down, causing his muscles to spasm and flex at your thrilling touch.

“Jesusss,” he hissed, “you’re so fucking dirty.”

You hummed a response, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, taking him in more and more as you went down. When the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat you got into a steady rhythm, pumping his remaining length your you hand as you sucked on his sweltering member.

Shinsou groaned, weaving his fingers through your hair as you looked up at him with those precious eyes. How could someone who looked so innocence be such a-

“Filthy little slut,” Shinsou growled, thrusting into your mouth, egging you on to pick up your pace. You moaned into him, your hot mouth making vibrations around him. “Oh yeah, you like sucking my cock, don’t you?” Your whimpered responses only made it feel all the more better for him. He continued his perverse vocalizations, holding onto you by a hand full of hair, watching your mouth and hands work your stealthy job. It wasn’t long before he felt himself tingle and twitch inside of your heat.

Through labored breathing, he warned you and you pulled your mouth off of him, rubbing furiously at his lubricated shaft. Your tongue danced under his head while you kept your mouth agape, open and ready to take his seed. It shot to your lips before you adjusted yourself, catching every last hot drop he had to offer on your tongue.

Shinsou watched you lick your lips and swallow his cum, humming at the satisfaction. You stood up and pushed him back into his bed, promptly climbing on top of him to plant a wet, salty kiss on his lips. If that was supposed to be revenge, Shinsou didn’t mind at all.

“The next time you need a fuck puppet, you know, in case you haven’t learned your lesson,” you teased, thrusting his scarf onto his chest, “make sure you use this.”

You pressed your knees against his sides and gave a long lick to his neck. You raised a brow at him when his already hardening member push onto your pelvic bone.

You laughed, “woooow, Shinsou,” before scooting off of him. You grabbed your bra and headed to the door.

Not so fucking fast. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“My r… …” Your eyes glazed over but only for a second, long enough for Shinsou to wrap his capture weapon around your torso. You looked down at your body and bit your lip, a blush formed on your cheeks.

Shinsou kissed your shoulder before whispering, “I don’t really think I’ve learned my lesson.”

#hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #suggetive content #suggestive themes #bnha scenario #requests

[here4theheartbreak]

Promise (YoonMin)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre(s): angst, hurt/comfort

Written for Printed Melodies at @yoonminficrec

Tags: angst, self harm, eating disorder, trigger warnings, hurt/comfort, getting together, no smut

Summary: Jimin has some trouble dealing with things in his life. Yoongi is there to support him.

Word Count: ~3.4k A/N: Please, please please heed the t/w on this one guys. It talks pretty candidly about self harm, EDs, and other mental health concerns. It is 100% in the realm of fiction and I’m making no assumptions about the mental health conditions of any member - but I know that even fiction can influence us as readers so please proceed carefully. 💜

Part 1: 2014

Yoongi hated doing the laundry. It wasn’t his job anyway; it was Jungkook’s. But of course the sly youngest had won the right to no chores for two weeks, which meant Yoongi got saddled with it.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the members kept their dirty clothes confined to the baskets littered around the apartment. They had a basket in every room and three in the bedroom, surely they couldn’t be hard to miss. Apparently they were, Yoongi learned, as he pulled the fifth crumpled t-shirt from under Namjoon’s bed.

He moved over to Jimin’s determined pile of laundry - six inches from the nearly empty laundry basket - and began to pile it in.

He scowled at the pair of boxers in his hand, noticing a copperish stain. Maybe Jimin had nicked himself shaving. Yoongi made a mental note to teach him the cold water stain trick. He picked up a pair of sweats, patting the pockets by habit. Feeling a bulge, he reached in and withdrew a small wad of gauze, stained through with blood and wrapped up with athletic tape. A sick panic set in. Was Jimin injured and hiding it? He thought back to when he’d been hit doing his other job, how he’d hidden it for so long for fear of reprimand or worse. Young pocketed the gauze and went back to his task, making a mental note to sit down with Jimin later on.

Nearly a week later, Yoongi sat in their small living room, eating a granola bar and scrolling mindlessly through his phone. Music was playing from the speakers against the wall, and Jimin had moved some furniture back and was dancing to the beat.

Yoongi was trying not to care, he really was. But Jimin’s movements kept catching his eye. The smooth twist and shifts of his body, the soft pants of his breath as he measured his air intake, the soft tap of his bare feet against the faux wood floor; Jimin was mesmerizing.

He stopped when the music faded, the room silent save for his heavy breathing. When the next song began, Jimin padded over to the couch and leaned across Yoongi, snagging his glass of water.

“Did you watch?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. You did well.”

Jimin smiled shyly, downing the water and flopping down across from Yoongi. He swung his legs up, resting his feet on Yoongi’s thighs. Yoongi sighed, trying to look annoyed. His gaze wandered up Jimin’s long, bare legs until he reached the bunched fabric of his shorts at Jimin’s thigh.

“Jimin, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Have you been hiding any injuries from us lately?” He tried to speak slow and measured so his tone didn’t sound accusatory.

Still, Jimin scowled. “No. Why?”

“Well, I… I saw some bloodstains and I found the bloody gauze.”

Jimin pulled his feet off Yoongi’s lap, sitting upright. “Did you go through my stuff?”

“No, it was last week, when I was doing laundry. I’m not mad, I’m just worried.”

“Just… Stay out of it.” Jimin snapped, shooting up from the couch. Yoongi sat up just as quickly, shocked by Jimin’s outburst.

“Jimin—”

“Leave it!” Jimin said, storming off. The door to the dorm bedroom slammed, startling Yoongi out of the dumbfounded shock he’d been sitting in. What the hell had just happened?

Yoongi rose, following Jimin’s path. He pushed open the bedroom door, anger beginning to twist his stomach into a painful knot.

“Where do you get off screaming at me like that?” He snapped, slamming the door shut behind him. Jimin startled visibly, looking up at Yoongi. His eyes were puffy and wet from tears. Yoongi scowled. “What’s going on, Jimin?”

“It’s hard to talk about,” Jimin mumbled, staring at his hands on his lap.

“I’m here. I’m not mad.” Yoongi approached him carefully, settling onto the bed across from him. “What’s the secret?”

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Are you hurt?”

Jimin shook his head no.

“So what was the blood?”

“I… Do it to myself,” Jimin whispered, so quiet that Yoongi thought he must have misheard.

“You what?”

“Don’t get mad,” Jimin pleaded.

Yoongi softened his tone immediately, knowing he would need to broach this as gently as possible.

“Jimin. Look at me, okay?”

When Jimin looked up, Yoongi offered what he hoped was a comforting smile. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

“Since we started training?”

“No, before. As a teenager, really. It just got worse during training… And a lot worse now that we’ve debuted.”

“Why?”

“Stress, I guess.”

Yoongi nodded. “Where?”

“My hip…. It’s… A safe spot. No one will see it.”

“That’s why you don’t like showering with us.” Yoongi chuckled. “And here I thought you were just a prude.”

Jimin laughed despite himself, sniffling. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

“Don’t be. I would have to. What do you cut with?”

“Just a razor.”

Yoongi nodded, looking down at his lap. He took a steadying breath. “Jimin. I want you to stop.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know. But I want to help you.”

“It’s not hurting anyone. I don’t go deep, and I can still dance, and I—”

“Jimin. It’s hurting you. Don’t you see?”

“It’s better than what could be happening,” Jimin muttered.

“Hey.” Yoongi reached out before he really thought about what he was doing. He stroked his thumb over Jimin’s jaw, smiling. “Don’t do that. You don’t even know how perfect you are. The pain you feel? It’s real. But you don’t need to hurt yourself physically in response.”

“How do I fix it?”

Yoongi let his hand drop, taking Jimin’s in his own. “I’m here. Until you can handle it on your own… If you ever can… Let me be your rock.”

“Yoongi-hyung…”

“Please, Jimin. You’re too special to me to watch you do this. No matter how it feels for you, please… Don’t throw yourself away. You matter so much more than you know.”

Jimin stayed quiet, his dark eyes searching Yoongi’s face. Yoongi leaned a little closer, his heart thudding in his chest. His gaze darted down to Jimin’s full lips, moving back up to meet his gaze, his own expression a question mark. Jimin’s mouth parted when the understanding seemed to hit him. He gave a barely visible nod, the permission Yoongi was waiting for.

He closed the gap between their faces, their lips striking awkwardly at first. They fell into a rhythm quickly, mouths moving together, quick intakes of breath when the other shifted to reposition. Yoongi dragged Jimin closer, smiling against Jimin’s mouth when the other gave in and allowed himself to be pulled entirely onto Yoongi’s lap.

Yoongi pulled back, his breathing quick. “Don’t throw yourself away,” he repeated.

“I’m scared,” Jimin admitted. Their foreheads bumped lightly when Jimin pressed closer to him.

“Let me help then.”

“How?”

Yoongi remained silent for a moment, deep in thought. He nodded to himself. “You said you use razors?”

“Yes.”

“Give them to me.”

Jimin jerked back, his face twisting in horror. “Hyung—“

“Trust me? I won’t tell the others. I’ll keep your secret. But if I have them it will be harder for you to use them. You’ll need to come to me. I’ll hide them. And then we can talk about what’s going on or just sit and take your mind off it.”

“What if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll try something else.”

Yoongi reached out, grabbing Jimin’s hands. He twined their fingers and squeezed. “I won’t make you promise to stop. But I’m asking if you’ll make me a promise to try.”

“You promise you won’t tell?”

Yoongi shook his head. “No. I promise I won’t unless I can’t help you further. And even then, I’ll only tell the member you trust me to tell. I won’t share it with everyone, and I won’t share it with our company. I know this is scary.”

Jimin nodded, hanging his head.

“Jimin… When we kissed… That wasn’t… I mean— You didn’t do it because of all this, right?”

“Are you asking me if I like you, Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin asked, his lips turning up into an impish smile despite the tears shining in his eyes. Yoongi huffed a little, shaking his head.

“You’re impossible. Yeah, I’m asking that.”

“I have for a long time. I knew you were… More of a free thinker when it came to sexuality but I was scared… I didn’t wanna mess up the group.”

“If we…” Yoongi trailed off, his mouth turning down in thought. Jimin waited patiently. All the members were used to this; Yoongi was a smart man, but he calculated things, and the best thing to do was wait for him to finish those calculations and let him speak his mind.

“I like you. You and I are… Pretty equal in the group, I think. And I don’t know that we would do anything drastic even if this didn’t work. I wouldn’t. The group is everything to me, and even a breakup wouldn’t jeopardize that. Do you feel the same?”

“You know Bangtan is my life,” Jimin said. Yoongi nodded.

“I want to date you.” It was a statement, not a question. Yoongi was putting himself out, baring himself to Jimin and making his desire as known as it could be.

“You do?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Should we… Tell people? The group?”

Yoongi tilted his head a little. “Kiss me again while I think about it.”

Jimin grinned at his statement and leaned forward. Their lips met gentler this time, less rushed. Yoongi pulled Jimin close and laid down with him, their mouths moving lazily as their hands slid over one another’s bodies for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Part 2: 2016

“Hyung?”

Yoongi looked up from the notebook he’d been scrawling in. “Huh?”

“Can we talk?” Jimin was shifting from foot to foot, his hands wringing in front of his stomach. Yoongi’s carefree smile slipped away immediately into stoic concern. He knew that look. He set the notebook aside and rose, setting his hand on Jimin’s lower back. Without a word, he guided him toward the bedrooms, meeting Namjoon’s gaze pointedly for the briefest seconds. Namjoon frowned a little but nodded.

Over the years, Jimin and Yoongi had worked out ways to deal with Jimin’s anxieties and other problems that arose between them. It was Namjoon that had become their middleman, a safe, unbiased opinion if things were too emotional or heated. And it had worked splendidly. Though, even Yoongi had to admit that Jimin had been tense lately, and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe he finally would.

Once in Yoongi’s bedroom, Jimin turned, shoving the door shut. He slammed his mouth against Yoongi’s in a hungry, desperate kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Yoongi kissed back, sliding his hands over Jimin’s slender hips. He brushed the delicate skin, a pang of hurt going through him when he could easily feet the hit of Jimin’s hip bones despite the musculature of his boyfriend.

“Jimin,” he whispered when Jimin pulled back to breathe. “What’s going on?”

“I missed you,” Jimin whispered, hanging his head. “We’ve been so busy with the album, I’ve barely had time to hold your hand let alone anything else.”

“I know. Come lay in bed with me. We’ll make time to be together now.”

The two moved silently to Yoongi’s bed, slipping under the covers and stripping out of their clothes. The warm blanket and firm, bracing mattress was a far cry from the moth bitten, sagging mattress Jimin had lost his virginity on years back, when they had to hide in closets and sneak out to cheap hotel rooms to make love and get time alone. It didn’t matter then, and didn’t now. Yoongi knew Jimin loved him deeply, no matter what.

Yoongi traced the old scars on Jimin’s hips, noticing the jut of his hipbones and the faint outline of his rib cage.

“What did you want to talk about, Jimin?” He asked.

“Just this,” Jimin said. He pressed gentle kisses over Yoongi’s shoulder.

“May I ask about something?”

“Mhm.”

Jimin’s hand was tracing lazy patterns on Yoongi’s stomach.

“Have you been eating well?”

The hand stilled. “Why do you ask?”

Yoongi shrugged the shoulder not commandeered by Jimin’s face. “Just an observation.”

“Of?”

Yoongi traced Jimin’s hip bone. “You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

Jimin sagged, visibly relieved. “I was afraid you were gonna say I’ve gained,” he admitted.

“Jimin. You’ve lost a lot.” Yoongi emphasized.

“I’m dieting.”

“Hm. Why?”

Jimin looked up, clearly confused by Yoongi’s statement. “Why?”

Yoongi remained silent, watching Jimin.

“Well, to... I was getting big.”

“Says who?”

Though Yoongi tried to keep his tone neutral, he knew something sharp came out with the way Jimin diverted his gaze. “Fans.”

“Jimin.”

“What? We’re nothing without them, aren’t we? If they don’t like me—“

“If they don’t like you they can fuck off,” Yoongi snapped. Jimin’s eyebrows shot up. Yoongi took a breath, steadying his emotions before speaking again. He knew he needed to be calm with Jimin, and getting angry would get them nowhere.

“Look, if they love you, why should they care if you gain a few extra pounds? You’ve been beautiful since debut. Prior even, but I’m biased.”

“You are biased. It’s just a diet.”

“It’s more than a diet, Jimin. Everyone’s noticed. You don’t look as well as you used to.”

Jimin scowled. “How do you mean?”

“Just that you look ill. You’re beautiful, but you… I mean look.” He pushed the blanket down and traced over Jimin’s hips. “I’m afraid if we make love I’m going to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Jimin whispered.

“You understand my point. Jimin… I know it hurts to hear people call you names. Trust me. But their opinion shouldn’t negate your self worth. And your worth to us… To me. I asked you years ago not to throw yourself away, remember?”

“Of course I do,” Jimin whispered.

“Well I’m saying it again. Don’t. Not over something like this. You feel alone and singled out by these comments… But you aren’t. I promise you.”

“What do you want me to do.”

“Just work on it. We have to diet, you have to work out, I get it. We all get it. But no more skipping meals for days. You think you hide it well, but you don’t.”

“I’m just not hungry.”

“Because the thought of eating makes you ill, right? Of getting too big and they won’t love you anymore?”

Jimin’s silence gave Yoongi the answer he was waiting for.

“Well, I love you,” he said softly.

“No matter what?”

“You know the answer to that, Min.”

Jimin stayed quiet, fidgeting with a loose string on the bedspread.

“Hey. Hey, I’m not yelling at you. I’m worried. You put so much pressure on yourself. To be an amazing dancer, an amazing singer, caring, optimistic, funny, sexy, beautiful... Where’s Jimin in all that? You already are all of these things. Sometimes the real you just gets lost in the added show of it. And sometimes that added junk strips away at you until you’re only bone.” His fingers brushed over Jimin’s slender arm.

“I know.”

“You know you matter, right?”

“I know.”

“Promise me?”

“I promise to try. To talk. I won’t waste what I am.”

Yoongi smiled proudly. “I love you, Jimin.”

“What?” A small, teasing smile played on Jimin’s lips. Yoongi rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“You know what I said.”

“No, no, I think I missed it. What’d you say, hyung?”

Yoongi sighed theatrically. The rarity with which he professed his love was an inside joke between the two. Jimin knew he was loved; Yoongi’s actions showed that more than enough. But hearing it was nice too.

“I said, I love you, Park Jimin. Happy?”

“Incredibly. Kiss me?”

“Never have to ask.” Yoongi pulled Jimin closer, twining their fingers and pressing their mouths together. Jimin seemed to melt next to him, tension leaving his body more and more the longer they shared soft kisses. Yoongi knew Jimin wasn’t perfect, and the path they were on was stressful and scary for all involved, but he hoped he could offer enough comfort to keep their heads above water.

Part 3: 2018

“You’re not mad, right, hyung?” Jimin asked. His voice quavered just a little, showing Yoongi just how deeply his approval was concerning Jimin.

He crouched down, looking closer at the vibrant black letters on Jimin’s ribcage. They were swollen, the skin red and angry surrounding them. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, a bit. I wished you were there… Wanted to hold your hand,” Jimin admitted.

“Who’d you go with?”

“Jungkookie.”

Yoongi nodded and rose. “I’m only angry about one thing.”

“What?” Jimin whispered.

“That you didn’t take me. I wish I could have held your hand too. It’s beautiful, Jimin.”

Jimin’s entire face lit up with a cheek splitting grin. “Really?”

“Yes. It looks nice. They did a good job.”“Ah, I’m so glad you like it!” Jimin hugged Yoongi tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Yoongi chuckled and pressed a kiss against Jimin’s neck, rubbing his back gently. “How long will it take to heal?”

“A few weeks.”

“So when can I make love to you?” Yoongi felt Jimin’s lips curve into a smile.

“Is that a concern?” He teased.

“Well… My boyfriend just got something added to his body that … Frankly looks incredible and… Really sexy. It’s a concern.”

Jimin pulled back, chuckling. Yoongi could see his eye roll without even looking.

“Any time you want. Just have to keep it off the mattress and don’t rub or touch it. Be gentle. It’ll be fine.”

“Then come to the bedroom with me,” Yoongi said, twining his finger’s with Jimin’s.

“No.”

“No?”

Jimin shook his head. His hair fell in front of his eyes, making him look much younger, especially with the sly, almost pixie grin he was wearing.

“Why not?”

“The tattoo wasn’t the only surprise I had for you today.”

“What’s the other one?”

“The song I’ve been working on. I’m almost done with it. I wanted you to read the lyrics.”

“Really? You haven’t let anyone touch that except Namjoon and Rabbit-hyung.”

“Well, now that it’s almost ready…. I want you to tell me what you think.”

Yoongi nodded, his attention entirely on Jimin. He walked way and dug around in his bag for a moment, withdrawing a folder. Inside, he pulled out a few sheets of paper and handed them to Yoongi. Yoongi sat down on the couch, immediately beginning to read.

He could feel Jimin’s gaze on him as his eyes slid over the words on the page. If it was anyone else, he would have snapped, told them he needed to concentrate and to back off. But Jimin was always his exception.

The words on the page screamed in Jimin’s voice. His pain over the years, the healing and aches, the smiles and love and sadness. Yoongi could have picked this out of a novel as Jimin’s. He could feel his own neutral expression slipping despite his best efforts not to let it, as he read down the page.

Even if you feel like you're alone, don't throw yourself away.

The words stood out like bold font on the page. Yoongi could hear his own voice, his words, the ones he whispered to Jimin countless times over the past five years. He looked up at Jimin, his vision blurring momentarily with tears.

Jimin shrank back. He tugged his shirt on carefully, worry crossing his face. “Is it... bad?”

“Jimin... Oh Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He set the paper down and rose, pulling Jimin into his arms.

“It’s almost as beautiful as you are... It’s your voice, perfect for you. You used my words.”

“They saved me. A lot more than even you know, hyung. I thought... Maybe they could save someone else too.”

“Jimin.” The name was more of a breath than a word. Yoongi closed his eyes, letting Jimin pull him into a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Yoongi-hyung.”

“I’ve always loved you, Jimin. I’m glad you gave me a chance,” Yoongi whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m glad you didn’t let me throw myself away,” Jimin responded simply. Yoongi’s heart swelled at his words. He didn’t think Jimin would ever know how thankful he was for that too. And for everything he had now, with the one he loved.

#yoonmin #printed melodies #jimin x yoongi #jimin x suga #yoongi x jimin #suga x jimin #min yoongi x park jimin #park jimin x min yoongi #angst #mywriting

[unoutan]

Kacchan’s Christmas Gift Rating: Passable (A spicy Bkdk Christmas oneshot)

Originally on AO3: Unoutan. Also sorry no read more to make this post shorter since I think the ‘read more’ is still broken on this broken site, and links are hidden from searches so..... xD lol. 

Merry Belated Christmas and Happy 2019 to my SSanta @godzillahtries and all of you who decided to read this oneshot! I was your n/s/f/w/pinch hitter and I hoped you like it with your prompt mentioning them being goofs in the bedroom and wearing each other's merch! I hope like it! -Unoutan

Summary: It's Christmas Eve for the married couple, snowed in for the Holiday, and Katsuki won a bet. Loser - Izuku, Winner - Katsuki. For such a bet to happen, Katsuki's Christmas gift to Izuku had to be opened early, but the gift is a gift that they'll now both enjoy~

Story: All necessary preparations for getting snowed-in within the Bakugou Midoriya home for the whole day of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day have been completed. Their hard work as heroes together allowed this well-deserved holiday vacation to happen for both Izuku and Katsuki. Now, if only Izuku would get dressed in his pre-Christmas gift faster.

“Ready yet?”

“No!”

Ten minutes pass.

“You fucking ready, yet?”

“No cursing on Christmas, and no!”

Sprawled on the center of the king bed, facing the ceiling, Katsuki tried remaining patient, but it was wearing thin. The room’s warm temperature added to his annoyance, so he wrestled out of his shirt and tossed it away. Better it warm inside their home than cold as the depths of hell that is outside.

He mentally counted to twenty, fifteen times and if Izuku wasn’t going to come out of the bathroom in ten seconds, he may lose it. “Hey, Deku, you done? It’s gonna be New Year's Eve by the time you get out of there!!” It is Christmas Eve and the longer he has to sit here in anticipation for his show for tonight, he might just beat himself off alone on Christmas. And how sad would that be for him?

“Wait, Kacchan, I’m almost finished. If I have to do this, I want to look perfect,” came Izuku’s muffled reply through the bathroom door. “If I’m doing this on the spot, I-I will fight to do it right too! I can’t rush this part...”

“You can only blame yourself for making and losing the bet on who would win the cooking competition.”

“I was rooting for her, Kacchan!”

“Whatever!! Dress up faster!” Unable to resist, Katsuki got off the bed to eavesdrop inside the bathroom where Izuku remained dormant. The faint sound of music could be heard inside, so he knocked on the door once and stated his accusation, a dull, mocking tone to his voice. “You’re researching shit on your phone.”

The club music stopped and a lie eventually followed, “...No.”

“LIAR!” Katsuki stomped back to the bed and sat on the edge. He growled out, slamming his hand on his knee. “Get out here and move your body! It’s easy! When was the last time you even danced?”

“When Ashido-san taught me how to slow dance for our wedding, and THIS IS DIFFERENT FROM SLOW DANCING!” Fed up with the coy stalling of the inevitable, Katsuki balled up Izuku’s old-as-fuck infamous ‘T-Shirt’ shirt that was on the floor and threw it at the door. The trajectory hit the middle of the door with a satisfying thump, causing the nerd within to yelp. “WAIT, KACCHAN!”

“STICK TO THE BEAT IN YOUR HEAD AND MOVE YOUR ASS, MOVE YOUR HIPS, THEN WOW, YOU’RE DANCING!” It was an oversimplification, but hip moving isn’t hard - Izuku never had a problem hip moving when he bounced himself on his cock. He bounced his leg up and down at the tantalizing thought from last night.

“KACCHAN!” The whine was replied with a mocking whine.

“DEKU!!”

“I SAID WAIT, YOU JERK! Can’t keep it in your pants for like two seconds.” The last part was muttered but wasn’t said quietly enough, even with the door closed. They’ve been married for over two years and Izuku still hasn’t learned that whenever anger or sass appears, it only gets him hot. Hotter. Crazier.

Clenching the cloth of his sweats, Katsuki growled under his breath, “Dekuuuu…”

Then the bathroom door slammed open to reveal an angry, pouty Izuku standing at the door. He sat up to get a better look at his husband. The plain white, oversized hoodie and black sweatpants would be boring if he didn’t know that underneath was his Christmas gift. The bright black heels Izuku wore at his feet were the only hint to what was hidden. “Fucking FINALLY! You ready?”

Taking a half step forward when he closed the bathroom door behind him, Izuku gulped and then took a deep breath before standing poised. “I-I will be.”

On the edge of the bed, Katsuki sat and waited for a reaction. About a minute passed before Izuku moved. Wrapping his arms over his reddened face in embarrassment, a classic pose Katsuki knew well, Izuku walked towards him and stopped an arms-reach away.

“Deku.” No response. “You hear me Deku?”

Ready for a fight, hands clenched into fists and eyes focused on him, Izuku wordlessly nodded. Katsuki loved that before-battle look.

Phone in hand, Katsuki hit ‘play’ as eager as the smirk on his face. The songs beat echoed, bouncing off the walls of their bedroom. Thanking whoever beings above that he lived long enough to witness this, Katsuki licked his lips when green eyes turned sultry, fluttering closed when hips swayed to the pulsing rhythm. It takes countless amounts of courage and trust to striptease in front of anyone, but Pro-Hero Deku is determination personified, even in the bedroom: A fact Katsuki is proudly and exclusively privy to know.

Unconsciously, Katsuki opened his legs when Deku walked closer with a hand reaching for his hoodie zipper.

Agonizingly slow, Izuku unzipped the hoodie and rolled his shoulders to let it fall down to the bend of his elbows. The reveal of skin quenched Katsuki’s thirsty eyes when Izuku the hoodie drop to the ground, exposing one-half of his holiday gift: A lacy black and orange bralette with a semi-transparent, fur-lined chiffon drape that framed his abs. The two orange X’s the bralette mimicked his Pro-Hero costume perfectly and it’s more perfect now that its in use.

Izuku raised his hands in the air as he carefully spun around. He let his hips pop to the left and right to the slam of drums. He shimmied out of his bottoms with the drums pounding hard and kicked it away with the tip of his pointed stiletto heel at the cymbals smash. Katsuki gulped at the sight of Izuku turning around to face him, confidently showing the completed ensemble.

The limited edition, copyrighted holiday-themed Pro-Hero Ground Zero lingerie official merch fits Izuku perfectly. The bralette cupped each pec perfectly and damn, the black thigh-highs and garters combo messed with Katsuki’s mind. It felt like a dream and if it was, he didn’t want the dream to end. The lacy black boy boxers looked thin; he could see the faint outline of his husband’s cock, and those shaking hips held him in a trance.

Fingers twitched, a tiny explosion sparked, but Katsuki remained still on the bed, sitting and watching the entertainment.

The shiny cloth of the long, thin, elegant gloves that are designed like his own gloves and gauntlets hugged Izuku’s arms like a second skin. Lights dimmed around them, the fight blush to his Izuku’s face could be seen when he traced up his neck. He bit the tip of his glove, yanked it off before he tossed it at him.

Before it could hit his face, the glove was caught in Katsuki’s grasp. He raised an eyebrow, but any remark he was going to make died at his lips when he saw two fingers slip inside Izuku’s mouth. Those wet fingers then trailed down trimmed abs towards Izuku’s cock but stopped barely a centimeter or two inside his underwear. The breath Katsuki held released when his favorite nerd sunk to his knees, both hands running through his hair, gripping at it playfully - like he was hinting at some hair tugging play when they both play under the covers tonight.

Halfway through the song, Izuku crawled towards him on all fours like a cat stalking prey. “Like what you see, baby?”

He didn’t know when he began biting his lip, so he stopped. “The sight ain’t half bad, you slutty nerd.”

The playful expression, Izuku’s tongue flickering out to lick his lips, made the corner of Katsuki’s mouth and his dick twitch. Hands on either side of Katsuki’s thighs as leverage to stand, Izuku rolled his body up, leaning in close to rub his chest against the middle of his legs. He knows Izuku felt the hardened excitement press against him when he stood back on those heels.

Keeping his hands respectfully away from touching those hips, Katsuki teased back by leaning his face closer, nose almost brushing against the small, silky boxers. Looking passed those boxers, above thick, sculpted thighs; Katsuki knew that something else was also hard.

His sweatpants tightened when Izuku turned around, went back on all fours between his legs, and presented his pretty round ass when he bent over to the song’s finale. He leaned his face away from that ass, embarrassed when the temptress show ended. Tone excited for feedback, Izuku asked, “Seriously, Kacchan, did you like it?”

“Passable.” Katsuki paused to make sure he would speak without stuttering like a fool.

Mouth hanging open in fake insult, Izuku repeated, “P-Passable? Only passable?”

“And I didn’t have to twist your arm, so you’d strip for me, you damn nerd. Was it hard?”

It was hard controlling his hands when those hips came closer to his face.

“Umm,” A little out of breath, he looked over his shoulder at Katsuki and admitted, “It kind of was? Emotionally it was hard.”

Tone bored, Katsuki repeated, “Emotionally. Hard.”

Turning around to sit on the floor, Izuku leaned his head on his husband’s knee and chuckled, “I don’t think I could do that again unless you paid me.”

“So, like a real stripper.” He foresaw Izuku smacking his barefoot at that, but Katsuki didn’t care because he was right...and also itching to do more than sit consumed with lustful desires. Izuku is already on his knees, so he might as well make use of that. “Tell you what, I’ll pay you the next time I want a private dance, but since this is my Christmas gift to you and I let you open it early, why don’t you open something else?”

“And what may that be?” The words were the only thing that played dumb because Izuku’s tone was eager and his right hand rubbed his inner thigh.

Tracing his thumb over Izuku’s mouth, Katsuki smiled, “And take off that dumb hat thing.”

“No, Kacchan. It’s part of the set.” Adjusting it in thought, he muttered, “Surprised it didn’t fall off. The hair clips helped then.”

The orange Santa hat with his signature ‘X’ design on it was cheesy, but whatever...Izuku made it look cute. The hat would be discarded to the floor very soon anyway.

“Don’t start muttering about that hat now too. Use your mouth for something else.”

“Are you going to ask me, Kacchan?” Leaning his face forward to slide his cheek inward against his thigh, creeping closer towards the goal, Izuku let his other hand squeeze the opposite leg. The left gloved hand rubbed his leg. “What can I do with my mouth, naughty boy?”

Out of all the naughty boys in the room that Christmas Eve, it was Izuku, that was the absolute naughtiest boy.

“I’ll show you who’s being a naughty boy, Deku.” . . Throwing the long glove at him was Izuku’s first mistake. Wrists crossed and tied behind his back, Izuku let out a muffled moan when Katsuki gripped his hair like a handle, pushing and pulling his head back and forth, mouth stuffed with his leaking cock. Lips stretched wide over the girth sliding over his wet tongue, pressing the tip against the back of the throat.

Eyes half-lidded to a close, Izuku weakly looked up at those intense red eyes watch him. Head bobbing fast, mouth open wide, Izuku squeezed his trembling legs tight as he succumbed to the pleasure of being taken like this. It felt good and Katsuki grinned when he saw those blushing cheeks become a little wet with tears - he was close. Katsuki groaned at that tongue lapping up his twitching vein at the underside of his cock, gripping onto those green locks of hair tighter.

The naughtiest boy liked the taste of his precum slipping down the corner of his mouth, moaning again as Katsuki fucked his mouth. “You like the view, Deku?”

At the question thrown back at him from before, Izuku groaned, closing his eyes with fluttering eyelashes as if he was in heaven.

But before Katsuki could cum in his mouth, he ripped himself out of that fucked-out mouth and grabbed his Izuku by the waist, tossing him onto the bed.

Izuku yelled at the rough treatment, bouncing on the bed with his body facing the stars. One stiletto heel flew off Izuku’s foot when Katsuki crawled over him with kisses trailing up those black thigh-highs and garters. Teeth pulled at the garters to snap it against the skin, causing the other man to yelp. When lips worked their way over the damp lacy cloth barely restraining Izuku’s own leaking desires, Katsuki chuckled and pulled them down. The second heel fell off when Izuku lifted his legs to help his husband remove them.

Shiny, pink, lips giggled at him. “This lovely gift of yours so far is...passable.”

Shutting up the nerd was easy when three fingers fucked his twitching hole, and only moans and gasped filled the air. A trail of lube slipped down the middle of Izuku’s ass when Katsuki stretched and curled his fingers inside. Mouth pressed against the skin of Izuku’s neck, Katsuki whispered, “This passable enough? Orrr-”

“A-ah! K-Kacchan!” He pressed his shoulders onto the bed, lifting his hips high when his fingers hit the right spot. Unable to cover his mouth, hands still tied at his back, he cried, “Right there, Kacchan! Please, I want you!”

“Please? Want me where?”

“F-Fuck you, Kacchan! I-I want you inside!”

So much for no bad language on Christmas.

Thighs spread open, Katsuki pulled his fingers out and pumped himself, spreading the excess lube over his length. Positioned and ready with an ankle in each hand, Katsuki bent over Izuku and pressed forward. Hard. The instant satisfaction at being consumed by that tight heat of that ass made him almost cum inside Izuku, before a single thrust. Izuku moaned at the sensation of being filled so fast, but those hips fought to move, wiggling, pressing up to meet his pelvis even more, despite already being balls deep.

Pulling out, cruelly slow, Katsuki whispered, “My gift still passable, you shitty Dekuuu~?” He didn’t wait. He didn’t let his Izuku answer with words, and gave him what he wanted - pushing back inside.

They chased for what they wanted together. Katsuki admired the sight of the crooked bra at Izuku’s chest; crumpled from the bent position he was in, his legs spread, ankles now crossed around his waist. Hips rose to meet each thrust and words of praise fell from those lips - always praising Katsuki in awe, filled with love that’s always been there in one way, shape or form. The force of his thrusts made Izuku words escaped alongside gasps, “A-Ah, so good! Kacchan is so a-ah, so good! Amazing! Ah-Ahh Kacchan’s cock is amazing!!”

The heat at Katsuki’s face burned at the words and sweat dripped down his face, falling on Izuku’s chest. To his embarrassment at those encouraging compliments, Katsuki nosed one side of the soft bralette higher and bit at a nipple, making the other man’s body tremble harder beneath him.

Still, those words of flattery tickled his chest.

Closing his eyes tight, Katsuki sat back on his heels with one last thrust and emptied his cum inside. Breathlessly, chest heaving from the exertion, Katsuki watched the end of his dick twitch, filling Izuku’s insides to the brim. Little beads of cum oozed from the sides of his Izuku’s stretched out hole.

With Katsuki’s name whispered at his lips, Izuku followed him, come squirting across his stomach. . . Katsuki lay naked on the bed above the covers with arms behind his head and eyes closed, content with the world. The warmth of the room felt good against his damp skin and the sweat was something he didn’t care to wipe off at the moment. Pulling the blanket over his husband’s exposed waist, Izuku sat up slightly to scoot closer and cuddle against the man resting shameless and bare at his side. “Kacchan, you’re ridiculous. Cover yourself a little.”

Opening one eye, Katsuki half-glared down at the man. “I’m hot.”

“You are very hot.”

“Ughhhh, you’re so cheesy. It freakin’ hurts.” Katsuki smirked when Izuku relaxed over at his side and placed a cute peck of a kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas...Izuku.”

After placing another quick kiss to Katsuki’s lips, Izuku pulled away slightly to whisper, “Merry Christmas, Katsuki!” Then kissed him again just as fast before flying off the bed, blanket floating like a cape around his shoulders when he moved to fish something from under the bed.

“The hell?!” The sudden movement got him gasping before sitting up to grab at the blanket, when the nerd’s butt shook from side to side, fighting to reach whatever was hidden under the bed. “Watch it!”

Bouncing back on the bed, Izuku held a snowman decorated gift and held it out like an offering. Head bowed low, he yelled, “Time to open my gift to you! I-I think you’ll love it!”

“Ehh?! Now?!” It’s almost three in the morning, but Katsuki was amused at the over-enthusiasm. Maybe, at the back of his mind, such enthusiasm...about heroes, about anything, when the source of his Izuku’s enthusiasm is himself, Katsuki loves it the most. Keep those eyes on him, Izuku. He grabbed the gift, a little too rough, but those green eyes remained sparkling up at him like stars filled with happiness. Wrapped like a burrito in the blanket now, Izuku wiggled closer when Katsuki pulled the ribbon off.

“I just know you’ll love it!”

Skeptical, Katsuki laughed. “How confident of you. Well fine. Let’s see what geeky thing you got from me at Hero-Con.”

Wrapping paper strewn around them, Katsuki stared in disbelief at the matching, equally limited edition, and copyrighted holiday-themed Pro-Hero Deku lingerie official merch in his hands. The set came along with black thigh highs with the bottom feet-part that looked like Izuku’s red shoes and black heels.

He was speechless.

“Maybe tomorrow…” Holding up the partially see-through crop top and a bralette, Izuku excitedly leaned in close with sparkles in his eyes. “You can show me your moves, Kacchan! It is Christmas after all! You won’t let me down, right?”

To Be Continued?

#bakudeku secret santa 2018 #bakudeku secret santa #bkdk secret santa #bkdk #bakudeku #bkdk getting spicy #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction #unoutan writes

[writingwithadragon]

Forged By Lightning

Description: Jaren is a human boy living in the human kingdom of Resdum. Forced to work for the merciless king, Jaren lived in constant fear. But when he angers the king and sentenced to death he ran. Being injured in the process Jaren finds himself alone and dying. At a feeble attempt to save himself he hunts to edge off the hunger. Little did he know a larger predator was stocking Jaren's meal. A dragon and his sharp fangs could have easily killed the boy, yet they shared the meal. Friendship blossomed and ended up with Jaren hidden as the dragon returned home. Once released by the dragon Jaren found himself in a long forgotten kingdom. And there he stood in front of the two kings, the elven king and the fairy king. His story was written thousands of years ago, and it just begun.

\|/\|/\|/

Prologue | Next |

Prologue

Ever since his hatching day, the welp has been an outcast. Left to die alone and hungry. Only an hour old and he already knew no one was coming back for him. He didn’t cry as he accepted his own fate. A welp that was prophesied for thousands of years just had to develop an imperfection. The welp hatched with an overactive air sack. That meant he produced more pure oxygen than any adult dragon could control. Leading him to have a constant trail of smoke leaving his nostrils. It made it hard to smell things and control his fire, which a normal welp develops at the age of five months.

Yet the smoke was still prominent with the welp. An imperfection that cost him his life. Still covered in his own albumin the weak welp laid in the grass watching and listening to the birds sing and fly about, his large ears swiveled to catch the sounds the forest offered. His dark blue scales had yellows and purples gliding over them in the sun’s light. A few black scales dotted his face along with his body. His horns and spikes were rounded and fragile. Though he might’ve been hatched a little over an hour prior, he had large tusk-like teeth that stick out the side of his mouth. A thick yellow two tipped tongue was periodically stuck out to taste the air around him. He flopped onto his side with his jaws agape to breathe, the constant smoke from his nose made it almost impossible to do so.

The welp was a sorry sight to see, on its side to breathe, grey wispy smoke coming from his nose, and obviously abandoned without a care. Yet he was supposed to be his kind’s savior, but here he is caught in death’s jaws. He slept for most of the day’s light but listened to the sound of the forest when awake whether it was night or day. He laid like that for another two days until the vultures found him, plucking off scales with their beaks. Not having enough energy to fight back, the welp only cried out in pain, wishing for death to crush him. In a swift moment, an arrow was sunk into one of the feathery beasts. With loud warning calls, they flew off leaving the wounded one behind. Another arrow pierced the grey vulture, killing it. The young welp was confused, light-headed, and horrified by the scene in front of him.

The being in the shadows crept forward, and elf stood tall with his head held up high. His skin felt like silk to the touch and filled with dull colors from pink to a light spring green. A grey suit made of silk and fine cloth showed the elf’s regal status. His bow seemed to be made of gold as the wood was shined to perfection, patterns of ruins were carved into its smooth surface. The elf wasn’t alone as a fairy followed close behind. Large dark blue and green butterfly-like wings sprung from his back, doubling his short height. Swirls of gold and silver made intricate patterns on his wings. Cloth spun from a gruth’s thick soft coat made up the shirt with its eyelets loosely tied on the front along with the sleeves. His pants with patches of leather covering the knees, he was a rider of sorts.

A leather belt held a bag, a shortsword, and a few potions snug against his waist. Grey was the color of his cape with slits in the back for his wings which had a golden royal crest dyed into the cloth. The fairy’s skin paled upon seeing the battered up welp his elven companion was shocked beyond belief. The legends had rained true, yet the hatchling was left to die a miserable death. Both figures scared the young welp, a pitiful cry came from his short and parched throat. Acting fast the fairy bolted to the hatchling’s side. When he felt the touch from the fairy the baby jerked and cried out again. The elf dashed off, but not without a purpose. Cries filled the air as the fairy looked over the starving welp, the damage done to the creature could surely kill it.

Grabbing his waterskin from his pack, he dripped some water onto the baby dragon’s muzzle. At first, the fragile creature was confused but once he realized it was water, he drank. The waterskin was quickly emptied just as the elf reappeared with two horses. One of pure white while the other was brown with white patches. Picking up the welp the fairy handed him to the elf, hopping onto the white horse they raced off towards the elven kingdom they called home. The welp was clutched with a strong arm keeping him close to a warm chest. Gaining distance the two companions raced time itself to get the baby dragon to a safe place, it didn’t help that the forest seemed to throw obstacles at them one after the other. Storm clouds sounded from the distant sky, a large storm was coming, it wasn’t safe to be in the forest. Thunder shook the ground as they broke the forest line into the open prairie.

Tallgrass the color of gold filled their view for miles, the sky from the west was growing dark. Dashing through a shallow river the two scared the elven farmers as they gathered water. Their actions frightened them, they were known for their calm natures yet here they were racing with panic in their eyes. The welp’s strength had vanished and was struggling to stay awake though he didn’t have the ability to open his eyes. No longer feeling rhythmed breaths come from the hatchling the elf forced his steed to run faster. Magic surged from the elf into the baby dragon to help it have a fighting chance. The fairy thought of healing spells and looked back towards the storm. Lightning flashed sparking a memory into his mind.

“Stp hr, Fitz! (Stop here),” the fairy yelled towards his companion. The legend rang in the fairy’s head, lightning is the only answer.

The elf turned his head to face him, “Wr wht? W dn’t hw tm t spr, Swagger! T’s dyng! (For what? We don’t have time to spare! It’s dying!)” the elf yelled back, fear covered his facial features.

“W nd th lghtnng, t’s th nly wy h’ll lw! (We need the lightning, it’s the only way he’ll live)” Swagger panicked, they needed to stop and offer the Gods champion. He knew it was true, “The lgnd stts th drgn strkk by lghtnng shall hi wn the dpst w wnds! (The legend states the dragon struck by lightning shall heal even the deepest of wounds)”

The elf stopped his horse and turned to face the fairy, his voice was soft but panic lined his words, “Thn mk lrg tr grw! ‘ll klmb t th tp nd hld th wlp p! Kn s mgk t prtkt myslw wrm th lghnng, bt y’ll nd t wnd wy t prtkt yrslw! Th strm s wrmng wst, w dn’t hw mkh tm! (Then make a large tree grow! I’ll climb to the top and hold the welp up! I can use magic to protect myself from the lightning, but you’ll need to find a way to protect yourself! The storm is forming fast, we don’t have much time)”

“Lrght, stnd bkk! (Alright, stand back!)” Swagger ordered as he jumped off his steed and outstretched his hands. His palms faced the open ground. The spirals on his wings started to glow, magic spewed from his palms into the ground, “Gt rdy! (Get ready)”

A small sprout dug itself from the ground. It grew fast and strong as dark brown bark covered its surface. It twisted and turn as it took in the magic, growing taller than a male gruth standing on his hind legs. Climbing towards the sky the two could feel the wind pick up, the storm was coming closer at an alarming rate. The smell of rain filled their noses as the welp weakly held onto life. Gentle touches from the elf calmed the baby, who tried with all of his might to nuzzle into the man and his warmth. Once the tree stopped growing the fairy dropped to the ground, almost all of his magic was used up. Fitz looked back in worry but a nod from Swagger let him relax a bit. Jumping off his horse, Fitz race towards the tree, the hatchling still cradled in an arm.

With one hand he used his magic to keep himself from falling to the ground unfavorably. The welp squeaked as he heard the roar of thunder fill the swift-moving air. He tried to roar back but another squeak responded, the elf couldn’t help but smile at the act. Once Fitz reached to very top of the tree he looked up to see the angry sky flash a warning with light. Holding back his worry he wound his legs to the tree and grabbed the welp with both of his soft hands. As soon as the baby dragon was lifted into the sky the elf had little time to react. Bright blue lightning struck the welp followed by a yellow streak. The different colored lightning danced across the dark blue scales, the elf stared up in amazement even if his hands were burned during the process. Once the sparks faded the elf let his magic guard down and held the welp close to his chest.

His hands had burns that etched the pattern of lightning into them. He cared not for the burns that will scar, he had only one thing on his mind, the welp. The dark blue baby dragon stretched and relaxed in the elf’s arms. Carefully Fitz climbed down the tree after freeing one of his hands. Reaching the ground he heard the welp’s stomach growl from hunger, the elf chuckled lightly. Looking around he found his fairy companion laying on the grass, almost seemingly passed out, but Fitz knew better. With a whistle the two horses raced towards him from out in the field, all creatures should fear the lightning and its wrath. Digging into his saddlebag Fitz took out some wrapped bait. Unwrapping it he used a dagger to cut it into small pieces, by that time the fairy had joined him, confused no less at his actions.

Sitting on the ground the elf held the welp up in one arm and made sure he saw the meat. The hatchling squeaked reaching out for the food with a poorly controlled paw. The two giggled at the baby dragon’s actions but happily gave him a strip of meat. Almost instantly devoured the strip of rabbit thigh. Making sure the welp didn’t eat too fast Fitz waited a few minutes until he gave the dragon more. He didn’t want the little thing to get sick over food. The poor thing needed a bath and a stress-free nap, Fitz would gladly accommodate for the small thing. Swagger was busy thinking, the hatchling needed a name. His name had to have some form of lightning in it. He looked over at Fitz, then down at the baby as they both drank water. An idea struck the fairy, but he needed to know one thing.

“S t ml r wml, Fitz? (Is it a male or female, Fitz?)” Swagger asked patting the welp on the back, he purred back.

Fitz picked up the hatchling and looked at him closely. He tapped a few of the welp's belly scales, his tail smacked away Fitz's hand as he got too low on his belly. Fitz laughed softly, “T's  by! Wht shld w nm hm? (It's a boy! What should we name him?)”

“Hw n d, hw bt, Kryoz?(I have an idea, how about,)” Swagger suggested, the welp turned at the word, he seemed to like it, “Y knw, Gd w lghtnng n ld tng? (You know, God of lightning in the old tongue?)”

“Lk t, hw bt y lttl bddy? D y lk th nm Kryoz? (I like it, how about you little buddy? Do you like the name Kryoz?)” Fitz beamed as the baby dragon squeaked and played around with the elf's hand. “Kryoz t s! (Kryoz it is!)”

It was Swagger's turn to laugh as he watched the dragon plop on his belly. A plume of grey smoke poured from his nose. Then came the hiccups, a small spout of fire came from Kryoz's mouth. Swagger laughed wildly as Fitz sprung to his feet to avoid the flames. Swagger watched as tuffs of grass caught fire, but he noticed that Kryoz was scared of his own flames. Grabbing the dragon Swagger lightly bounced him on his knee. Almost instantly the hiccups stopped. His large wings fluttered slightly as he watched the elf run around stopping out small patches of fire with his dark grey boots.

A faint blush crossed his cheeks, he looked down at Kryoz to hide it. The baby looked back up at him with the tips of his yellow-orange tongue sticking of the end of his snout. The fairy giggled and completely missed the caring look Fitz gave him at the sounds he made. The welp yawned snuggling into the fairy's lap and huffed angrily when he was disturbed. He found himself in the long arms of the elf and walking towards his horse. The brown and white horse neighed at his owner and bowed his head. The elf hopped on his steed and the baby dug his sharp talons into Fitz's arm. The elf hissed at the pain, Kryoz felt guilty, he wasn't expecting the sudden movement. He detached his talons and whimpered, expecting to get scolded in an equally painful manner. Fitz frowned at the baby dragon's actions.

He lightly bounced Kryoz in his arm as the started to gallop towards his home. “Sshhh, yng n.  Ws krlss nd wrghtnd y. Y dd wht yr nstnkts tld y t d thrwr y wldn't gt hrt. S slp, t wll tk ntl nghtwll t gt bkk hm. (, young one. I was careless and frightened you. You did what your instincts told you to do therefore you wouldn't get hurt. So sleep, it will take until nightfall to get back home.)” The elf paused and looked over his shoulder at the fairy. “Whr shld w kp hm? Kn't ksktly wlk nt th kstl wth bby drgn n my rms. (Where should we keep him? I can't exactly walk into the castle with a baby dragon in my arms.)”

“Myb w kn d n llsn spll? Mk hm lk lk  pl w blnkts r bks. Nd wr hs smk km wrm  lt kndl. T'll b wll wtr drk whn w rtrn.(Maybe we can do an allusion spell? Make him look like a pile of blankets or books. And for his smoke come from a lit candle. It'll be well after dark when we return.)” Swagger shrugged galloping next to Fitz.

Kryoz was fighting to keep his eyes open, he wanted to see the world around him. The two companions watched as the sleepy welp struggled to even hold his head up. “Slp, y wll s ths plk gn, nw slp yng n. (Sleep, you will see this place again, now sleep young one.)” Fitz hummed softly rubbing Kryoz's back almost seemingly putting him asleep until the dragon jerked his head up. The elf would have been upset if the little bugger wasn't so intent on seeing the world around him. “Hw bt sng thn, Kryoz? (How about a song then, Kryoz?)”

Swagger held back a chuckle when the welp's head swung up from over Fitz's arm to look up at the elf. Kryoz chirped expectantly as he stared up waiting for Fitz to make music. The elf smiled warmly as the familiar tune of ‘Heart's Voyage’ left his lips. Swagger liked the song, but when it was sung by Fitz he loved it. The welp seemed to feel the same way as he snuggled himself closer to the elf’s chest. Well not before a large happy and cute yawn. Both men couldn’t help but mentally awe. While the sunset the two talked quietly to one another as soft snores reassured that the baby was asleep. But once the moon rose and the sky filled with stars they saw the gates to Fitz’s kingdom.

Looking at each other with a glint of mischief in their eyes, they nodded and the dragon was hidden under the elf’s cape. Sneaking past guards the two lead their horses to their stables and snuck into the castle. With a quick spell, the dragon looked like a stack of books and a lit candle in his hands. They only ran into one guard who looked at the two suspiciously. Neither of the boys was known for how well they learn, but they should of. Fitz’s parents weren’t the only ones that thought that Fitz couldn’t even do the simplest illumination spell. But here he is using one of the hardest illusion spells like it was nothing. And Swagger’s parents never thought he could use life magic. Yes, it might take a lot out of him, but he had it down to the ‘T’.

Both boys were prodigies and good at deceiving their families. The only thing they let slip was Swagger’s ability to ride and tame any beast he passes, or Fitz’s bowmen skills as hitting a bulls-eye on a target over two hundred feet away was unheard of. As they snuck into Fitz’s room they placed the dragon on his bed. Kryoz didn’t stir and peacefully rolled onto his back. The fairy couldn’t hold back a giggle neither could the elf. They split up, Swagger raced to find a wooden tub as Fitz kept guard. Once the fairy returned the dragon was nudged awake. With another large yawn, he opened his beautiful teal eyes and tilted his head in confusion when he sat up. Fitz used a spell to summon water into the tub and Swagger made sure it was cold. Anything cold would lull a dragon into submission, whether it felt good or not. Finished with the summoning the elf took the confused Kryoz and slowly lowered him into the water. They both thought he would fight back not liking the water, but much to their surprise they didn’t.

Kryoz loved the way it felt and how it calmed his throat. But once he realized smoke wasn’t clogging up his sense of smell he sniffed to his heart’s content. He smelt the faint smell of honey and lilac. Swagger smelled of an assortment of different flowers and cedar. But the burns on Fitz’s hands smelled completely different, he couldn’t place it with a physical object, it just smelt like home. The princes laughed happily letting the baby sniff them while they washed him. Once done the elf dumped the water out of his window while Swagger dried of the welp. Kryoz didn’t like the fact that bath time was over. Climbing into bed Fitz patted the spot next to him looking expectantly at the fairy.

Wings receding into his back he crawled under the blankets they watched the small baby dragon clumsily crawl in between them. Swagger rested his head onto Fitz’s shoulder, a smile plastered to his face with red tinting his cheeks. The elf rested his head onto the fairy’s and stoked the Kryoz’s back happily. They were both content and happy. This was the start to a happy family bond, and boy didn’t the two love the thought. Even if it had to be a secret. For now.

\|/\|/\|/

@djpillowkarma @i-still-have-my-doubts @miss-oli  

#my writing #my au #Forged By Lightning #prologue #gbg kryoz #goodguyfitz #swaggersouls #gbg #ask me questions if you have any #i don't bite #hope you liked it

[rebelliousties]

.-twisted wonderland

Kazuha is part of the Diasomnia dorm, a charming student that nearly no one knows much about, almost going unseen outside of class and constantly keeping everyone at arm's length.

Despite the appearances, he is just a bit older than most students at Night Raven, having been accepted a few years ago, but forced to drop out and virtually disappear by circumstances he refuses to explain to anyone, later allowed to return to the school and resume his studies as a third year, a hand now always kept hidden under gloves and bandages alike and the smile on his face just a little more forced and sharper than it used to be.

He is what many would consider a prodigy, excelling in the use of magic and physical activities. It is unknown by most whether or not he does have a signature spell, some claiming it must be his wind magic with the impressing and, frankly, terrifying control he holds over it. Others say some magic as simple as control over an element cannot possibly be someone's signature spell, much less the signature spell of someone like Kazuha, and insist the lack of a spell name only supports this theory. Kazuha himself merely smiles and keeps the answer to himself whenever asked, simply letting the mystery and curiosity fester.

#「 t w s t. 」 ⇀ let us dance to this twisted rhythm ; I get a thrill out of being myself . #「 hc. 」 ⇀ to the days long gone . #// i did it. i have no regrets #dont look at me

[rebelliousties]

“There is no reason to worry, Azul and I are such good friends- we get along so well, is that not obvious enough? He wouldn’t stand a day passing by without having a word with me!”

#「 ic. 」 ⇀ alone I walk the winding way ; here I stay . #「 t w s t. 」 ⇀ let us dance to this twisted rhythm ; I get a thrill out of being myself . #// ^-^