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earthtooz · 1 year

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x : NO FEAR :*+ﾟ i wanna love you with no fear !

in which: itoshi rin rejected you, so why isn't he handling your avoidance well?

warnings: 5k wc, fluff with minor angst, jealous!rin, food cw, swearing, reo is reader's best friend, COLLEGE!AU, gn!reader, non-canon complaint

a/n: happy valentine's day !!! shoutout to @ryekoo for finally giving me inspo on what to do for the rin fic of my event - u rly saved my life <3

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

you:i’m going to end you. <reo3: i’m too pretty to die ._. you: and you told me i was too pretty for itoshi rin to reject!?!?!?! <reo3: oh... <reo3: i’m sorry. <reo3: condolences fr.

with a disappointed sigh, you pocket your phone, decidedly ignoring the next few messages that reo sends as you wait for your bus. he owes you a million yen for the amount of grief and distress he’s currently putting you through, especially with the way he shattered all hopes you had with your love life.

well, hopes that you were stupid enough to feed into because this was itoshi rin you’re talking about; possibly the most standoffish, calculated, and devastatingly gorgeous man you’ve ever met in your life. yet, despite his detestable personality, you still found yourself falling hook, line, and sinker for the man, despite his insults, cold comments, and dismissive attitude.

maybe it’s masochism.

now that you look back on it, rin’s rejection seemed almost inevitable. even if you lead yourself to hope with all the times you caught him staring at you, the prompt replies to your messages, and willingness to somewhat tolerate you during group projects, it was rather obvious that this would be the outcome to your heartfelt confession.

‘i don’t see you like that’.

it’s cringeworthy simply thinking about it. now you’re going to have another memory that’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.

recalling the expression he made after your confession; eyebrows scrunched and lips tugged into a slight frown, was traumatising enough for you to wish for the ground to swallow you whole. his face will plague you for an uncertain amount of time because today truly, was so very humbling.

the sight of your bus approaching your stop rouses you from the crevices of your thoughts and after you jump on and settle yourself into a seat in the relatively empty carriage, you bring your phone out to text reo again. he’d sent four messages since.

<reo3: this doesn’t make any sense we all thought rin was into you <reo3: like DOWN BAD into you<reo3: everyone on the team has literally made bets on you two <reo3: i’m sorry :c r u okay? you: yeah. just gotta take the L and move on you: hey at least i’m free for valentines <reo3: LET’S GOOO we’re definitely doing something <reo3: i’ll be a better valentines than r*n you: you’re sexier too babes xoxo <reo3: duh!

maybe you’ll let reo see another day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your university schedule was never the same after the ‘itoshi rin’ fiasco.

it was never an amazing schedule to begin with since a few classes were quite inconvenient, and there’s only so much to enjoy out of your seminars. the fun part about them was being able to sit beside rin and talk to him whenever you could without getting waved off, but since his heartless decline of your feelings, acting ‘buddy-buddy’ wouldn’t be acceptable. so you resorted to sit by yourself in a section of the space you’ve never really occupied before, busying yourself on your phone as students walked in to class.

despite the temptation to look at the door to see when rin would come in, you do not budge one bit, eyes glued to your phone screen (which had nothing entertaining on it). this meant that you couldn’t see the confusion on his face when he didn’t see you in your normal spot and how it merged further into a look of offence when he instead spots you across the room.

reluctantly taking his usual seat, rin’s gaze lingers on you, hoping to meet your eyes at least once. but upon your insistence to pretend your phone was more important than him, he sits down, practically flopping onto his chair with his backpack cushioning his fall.

sitting here feels a little empty. rin can’t help but think how it used to be much better when you insisted on being next to him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<;reo3: you can come now rin isn’t here yet

you: kk b there soon

the trek across campus towards the university’s soccer field, although long, is harmless enough, especially since you were doing a favour for your best friend by bringing the soccer guards and water bottle that he left at your dorm. the harmful part was the looming threat of itoshi rin’s presence and your fear that you would encounter him on your way.

all you needed to do was drop in quickly and leave.

when you get to the field, nagi’s the one who sees you first from where he was lounging on the bleaches, changed in his soccer gear.

“oh, y/n,” he mumbles, sitting up. “hello.”

“hey nagi. are you trying to nap before practice or something?” you ask.

“yeah.”

“won’t that drain you though before practice starts? you’ve got like… five minutes.”

“still classified as a power nap. wanna collect a power up before startin’.”

amusing as ever, he is. “sure. hey, you know where reo is?”

“he’s changed, probably warming up with isagi and bachira and whoever else.”

“shouldn’t you be doing that too?”

“not until reo forces me to.”

as if on cue, a friendly and very familiar voice calls out nagi’s name and you’re delighted to see the purple-haired in question. you can finally give him his stupid stuff back; the ones you’ve been holding in your hands this entire time like an idiot.

“come on nagi!” reo exclaims, jogging over. a smile appears on his face when he sees you. “yo! y/n! thanks for bringing my things.”

“‘s not a problem. next time i’ll burn them so don’t leave them again,” you counter as the purple-haired takes his things from you with an eye roll. “i filled up your water bottle for you.”

he places his things down before sitting beside nagi to put his guards on. “so considerate even whilst terrorising me.”

“of course.”

“seriously though, thank you for bringing my things.”

“not a problem. i’m gonna head back to my dorm to study so i’ll see you later. bye reo, bye nagi,” you wave at the two, fixing your backpack strap before turning around to leave the field, only to bump face-first into someone.

the apology that surfaces on your tongue quickly withers away when you lock eyes with a pair of steely, teal ones, partially hidden by strands of dark hair. he looks at you like he has something to say.

but you’re not ready to hear it.

“uh, hi rin! gotta go!” you squeak before stepping to the side and running away, leaving rin to stare in bewilderment after you.

part of him has the urge to run after you.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<reo3: isagi’s invited a bunch of us to the on campus screening of spirited away

<reo3: wanna come?

you: ykw why not

you: not like i have essays to write

<reo3: FUCK THEM ESSAYS!

you: YOU’RE RIGHT SPIRITED AWAY IS BETTER !

if you knew that this would lead you to be seated (uncomfortably) between reo and isagi, who acted as the only barrier between you and an-unnamed-man (rin), then perhaps you would’ve dedicated yourself to your essay rather than a fun opportunity to hang out with your friends.

1500 words sounds better than having to pretend like there wasn’t an icy cold stare penetrating the back of your head every time you turned to talk to reo, or isagi trying to keep his interactions up with rin so the latter wouldn’t try to talk to you.

you owe isagi a vending machine drink after this because a ‘thank you’ will never suffice.

it’s easy enough to forget about rin when the movie plays and isagi begins whispering little pieces of commentary to you from time to time, eliciting giggles from you that you try to suppress to not annoy those around you. however, each sound that slipped past your lips was enough to make the dark-haired boy scrunch his face in disgust, an ugly, green monster climbing up his throat when he catches a glimpse of how happy you seemed with someone that wasn’t him. it kills him to see how easily it is for you to just ignore him like your friendship never existed.

since the campus movie was scheduled during a cool but bearable, autumn dusk, you severely underestimated how cold the night would get. heating wasn’t the best in the gymnasium so the committee had instructed everyone to bring their own blankets and warm covers, yet in your haste, you couldn’t bring adequate layers.

so after a while of trying to warm yourself up and convincing yourself that you were warm enough with a measly sweatshirt, rin notices from the corner of his eye how you kept rubbing your arms.

he doesn’t hesitate to take off the fleece jacket that he was wearing over his university jumper. sure, it will be significantly colder without his outer layer, but rin’s willing to suffer as long as you were okay (when has he ever been this considerate?), except he stops when he sees nagi handing you his very oversized jumper. you accept it with a gracious smile and the white-haired boy merely shrugs before going back to watching the film. rin, on the other hand, feels a cauldron of rage brewing within him.

the sight makes his chest twist, wringing him dry as he stares dejectedly at how snug you seem in someone else’s clothes. the green monster inside of rin bubbles in contempt, a being that makes him want to rip the hoodie off you and replace it with his own for you to wrap yourself up in. he wants you to be content with him- happy because of him, not because of another.

you confessed to him only two weeks ago- barely even two weeks ago, so how could you so easily forget about him and move on? pretend like his rejection didn’t shatter you and him when he saw a devastation like no other on your pretty face?

rin doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the following tuesday, you’re already seated in your new spot for your seminar, busy setting up your laptop in preparation when rin walks in. you see him from the corner of your eye, backpack slung around his shoulder, hands tucked unassumingly in his pockets as all 185cm of him saunters towards the seats. however, when you notice that he bypasses his normal spot and walks even further out of your peripheral vision, alarms blare deafeningly in your head.

you freeze when you hear someone take the seat behind you.

there’s a hard gaze on the back of your head, one that roots you to your spot and wills you not to turn around.

sneaking out your phone from your bag, you hide it so that rin can’t see it from his angle.

you: RIN IS SITTING BEHIND ME OH NO

you: terrible start to valentines day smh

<reo3: WHAT!??!!???!???! fr.

you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I’M GOING TO DISINTEGRATE RIGHT NOW

<reo3: maybe *don’t* do that????

<reo3: WHY’S HE SITTING BEHIND YOU?????

you: FUCK IF I KNOW IT FEELS LIKE HE’S THROWING DAGGERS AT MY HEAD

<reo3: WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?

you: CRY???????????? IDFK???????????

you: oh fuck class is about to start

you: i’ll let you know if anything happens

<reo3: STAY SAFE

you tuck your phone away with fear and dread looming over you, personified through the form of itoshi rin, who sits so indifferently behind you, head propped on his hand. you hear his pen click behind you and you don’t even need to see him to know that he’s taking out that stupid notebook of his since he preferred to take notes by hand. you want to turn around and rip said book into shreds.

as the professor starts the class, you try your best to shake rin out of your thoughts, wanting to leave him behind in the depths of your mind so you can concentrate on this damn elective. none of the notes you were typing onto your document made sense and it felt like everything the professor was saying went in one ear then out the other. curse rin for having this effect on you.

at least you get to gossip with reo after this.

though your seminar was only 60 minutes, it might as well have been 60 years because of how significantly older you feel at the end of it. the weight of rin’s stare was heavy on your shoulders when you hurriedly grab your things and make a dash for the exit.

well. you try to make a dash for the exit because somehow, rin gained the ability to teleport and beat you there, grabbing your wrist unceremoniously before pulling you into the hallways. you fumble with your phone, hurriedly texting reo.

you: UHH MAYDAY I MGHT NEEE TO SKIP OUR PLANS

<reo3: WHAT’S HAPPENING?????

you: RIN IS DRSGGING ME SIMEWHERE IDK WHERE

you: MY LOCARION IS ON LIFE360

you: I LUV YOU STUPID WHORE

<reo3: WHDJFWIJAIDJFAWHAT THE FUCK????

“hey!” you exclaim, helplessly being pulled by rin’s long strides, shutting your phone off as you try to match his eagerness. he could at least be a little more considerate and lighten up that grip of his on your wrist. “rin- what? where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he responds gruffly.

your mind blanks despite the hurricane of questions that circulate your mind. how did you get here? is the delirium finally hitting you after countless sleepless nights? you stayed up until 2am last night to make valentine’s chocolates for your friends so maybe it’s the sugar and the sleep deprivation.

as rin pulls you through the hallways, you think about how weird it is to allow him this close to you again- well, you didn’t exactly allow him, he kind of just… invaded your personal space. but after a whole week of not talking to him, responding dryly to his texts, avoiding your regular hangout spots, and overall pretending like he doesn’t exist, being exposed to his intimidating presence once more is… exhilarating? unreal?

“wait, can we stop for a second?” you demand, breaking out of your funk when you step outside as if the harshness of the sun’s rays woke you up. “i’m so confused right now. where are we going?”

“we’re going to have lunch together at that café you’ve been wanting to try out,” he tells you with a serious expression, not breaking his usual aloof and stern personality.

rin doesn’t give mixed messages: no, he gives messages that have completely been lost, fallen astray somewhere along the path of communication.

shifting your weight between your feet awkwardly, you tell him: “well, i kinda had valentine’s plans.”

his mask of coolness and uninterest cracks, exposing all the emotions he’s been withholding from surfacing for the past weeks; jealousy, envy, greed, they all manifest through the helpless scrunch of his face. “with who?” asks rin, tone a lot harsher than he had intended, matching the crease of his eyebrows and the frown he was wearing.

it’s the green monster in him talking.

if you were going out with someone else, someone new, rin’s not too sure what he’d do. determination and pettiness can only take a man so far before his resolve cracks and you have the power to crush his heart with a single stomp, extinguishing his flames in one, swift sweep.

“with reo,” you confess. the dark-haired relaxes again, his face returning to a neutral expression.

“okay. ditch him then.” his audacity is baffling.

“i can’t just do that!”

“why not?”

“cause that’s a shitty thing to do!” you say, before murmuring under your breath, “not that you’d know the first thing about being polite.”

“i don’t care, it’s reo, you two hang out everyday. tell him to give me a turn.”

“you’re a horrible person, rin,” you murmur, ignoring the butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

he doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your next step. huffing, you reluctantly take out your phone as a sign of surrender under his suffocating pressure, muttering complaints under your breath as you find reo’s contact - literally your most recent one, to send him a quick message. almost instantly, your best friend responds with a thumbs up paired with a smirk and you almost want to block him then and there.

“done.”

“perfect,” rin goes to grab your hand again but you retract from him just in time. when you look up to meet his gaze once more, you see his unimpressed expression whilst he keeps his palm extended towards you expectantly.

“i don’t need your help walking places,” you grumble, not liking how fast your heart was racing.

he gestures to his open palm once more. “i know.”

after a moment of silence, you give in, hesitantly placing your hand in his. with a small grin, rin intertwines your fingers before pulling you to his side. without another word, he begins walking, leaving you to merely follow the brutally fast pace he’s set.

you must’ve looked ridiculous to other people. being dragged around by an 185 cm man, how humbling.

the place rin led you to was not too far from campus; a totally manageable distance for the two of you to remain in silence during the walk. you try to bypass the awkwardness of it all by focusing on other things, like how warm rin’s hand is and how you hope he doesn’t mind your sweaty hands. he seems to be content from what you’ve observed, happily walking beside you whilst sparing a few occasional glances over; ones that you pretend you don’t see whilst admiring the cityscape around you.

there are various valentine’s decorations hung up around the insides of the cafe that made you cringe slightly. although they were very cute, you feel humiliation climbing up your throat, serving as a reminder that you were currently spending a day of love and romance, or whatever, standing beside the very man who rejected you.

this is the cruellest version of a sick joke.

“welcome!” a cheery voice greets, breaking you out of your thoughts. “table for two?” rin nods. “perfect! are you here for valentine’s day because couples get access to a special menu on top of our regular one.”

when you open your mouth to reject her offer, rin beats you to it. “we’ll take the valentine’s menu.”

“okay, right this way,” the waitress guides you to an empty table for two that was right by the corner. the atmosphere of the place was cozy with various candles and statement pieces to really bring it together, but you have no time or brain space to appreciate the aesthetic of the café.

it’s not until the waitress leaves that you speak up, utterly confused. “why’d you get the valentine’s menu, we-”

realisation hits you like a truck.

“-are we on a date right now?”

rin’s unmoving, save for the purse of his lips as he stares at you. you feel a little foolish right now.

“yeah, we are,” he answers, curtly and concisely.

alarms are blaring in your head, the earth is tremoring below you, there are distant screams somewhere in the back of your mind and all you can manage out is a simple ‘oh’.

“get what you want, i’ll-” rin begins before you abruptly cut him off.

“-no, hold on, i’m so confused right now,” you rub your temples, staring at the stupid valentine’s day menu decorated with pink and hearts and chocolates. “why?”

“why what?”

“why are we on a date?”

“because it’s valentine’s day?”

“well- i know that part,” you murmur under your breath. “it’s just, y’know, people celebrate this day when they like each other.” and not when one party is miserable because the other rejected them.

“we do like each other though.”

there are no words to describe the shock you feel. really. not even an anvil dropping on your head could wake you up from whatever dream you are conjuring right now.

“no, we don’t! i like you, you don’t like me.”

he looks away, the tips of his ears turning red. “that’s not true,” he murmurs, no louder than a whisper, yet your jaw drops all the same at his confession. “i do like you.”

“a week ago you didn’t!”

“a week ago i wasn’t ready to get into a… relationship… or whatever.”

“oh,” you fix the strap of your bag, feeling slightly awkward. “and you’re ready now all of a sudden?”

“yeah.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“the fuck? why?”

“you don’t really seem like the type of guy to turn around on yourself like this. what changed?”

rin won’t ever tell you about how much he missed you during these two weeks and how it was his jealousy and greediness that spurred him to act on his feelings. instead, he simply slides the menu to you, pointing to a milkshake-‘lover’s brew’, and since the menu was decorated with pictures on the side, you could see what the concoction consisted of. whipped cream, heart sprinkles, topped with a caramel heart and fairy floss.

“the milkshake?” you ask, trailing off towards the end. “you hate sweet things and this especially looks like it could give you diabetes.”

the dark-haired shrugs. “so? i thought you’d like it.”

“sure, but it is kinda pricey for a milkshake.”

he shrugs again, putting his elbows on the table which causes his sleeves of his turtleneck to roll down a little, exposing the shiny silver of his, no doubt expensive, watch. “i’ll pay for us, it’s fine.”

“hold on-”

“i’m paying. end of argument.”

it’s an offer you can’t really reject. being a university student and all, funds are limited, so wherever you can, you want to avoid withdrawing money out of your account. that said, it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about draining rin’s, but with how long you’ve been friends, you know that once he’s set his mind to something, it’s hard to change it.

“if you insist,” you grumble, straightening up your spine as you awkwardly fiddle with your shirt. you feel so scrutinised under his gaze, even as you reach for the jug of water and pour two cups of water. “what else should we get?”

the waitress then comes around to take your orders and when she’s gone, conversation flows easily, reverting back to how things were between the two of you (to rin’s relief). he listens as you talk animatedly about the unfortunate series of events you had with your professor the other day, how cute your encounter with the campus dogs were, and the really unfortunate run-in you had with a guy from your shared tutorial classes.

(the dark-haired boy makes a face when you mention another man’s name before his usual face of indifference melts back in.)

“here’s your milkshake,” the waitress says, placing the drink in the middle of the table before walking away, “you guys are really cute by the way.”

“thanks,” rin says calmly, a stark contrast to your flustered reaction.

two straws stick out from the milkshake and when you put one in your mouth, you almost choke when rin takes the other one, causing your noses to bump in the middle. the look he gives you is nothing short of mischievous before pulling away, a knowing smirk playing along his lips.

“ew. that is really sweet,” he mutters before leaning back, crossing his arms.

“yeah,” you cough. “it is really sweet.”

recovering from your embarrassment, the rest of lunch goes by quite seamlessly. he goes to pay for everything with a confident tap of his card, causing you to stand awkwardly behind him, keeping all complaints to yourself as it goes through. thanking the waitress, you leave the café hand-in-hand once more.

“thanks again for paying,” you repeat and rin gives a hum of acknowledgement whilst you two walk aimlessly on the path. “what do you want to do now?”

“i don’t know. do you have anything you want to do?”

“i might have an idea.”

leading him in the direction of a nearby store that just opened recently, you come to a stop in front of a shop that had neon-lights illuminating its inside and claw machines filled with adorable plushies lining along the walls.

glancing at him, there’s a glimmer of amusement in rin’s eyes as his lips turn upwards into a small smirk. “really?” he asks, looking over at you.

“really. this’ll be fun!” you promise before walking in, the dark-haired following suit as you stop in front of a token-purchasing machine.

from the corner of your eye, you can see him taking out his wallet already and you immediately put your hand on your wrist, ceasing his movement.

with just one glance, a whole conversation passes between you two. “if you pay for me i will sock you.”

“i’d like to see you try,” he deadpans, quirking a brow before pressing the ‘20 tokens = $19’ button on the machine, “but i’m paying.”

then the sound of his card meeting the reader and the transaction being approved rings through the air, followed by the deafening noise of coins clashing against metal. the look he gives you is nothing short of proud.

“come on babe, bet you won’t be able to get any prizes,” challenges rin as he brushes past you, the pet name causing your stomach to churn as insults rest on your tongue, offended by his declaration.

he’s gracious enough to give you half of the coins, allowing you to play four games each. you only manage to win on one of them and even then, you were astonished at your own achievements, excitedly grabbing the plushie and hugging the stuffed toy to your chest protectively. rin, on the other hand, comes back to you with two in both hands and the gawk you let out was completely against your will.

“how did you do that?” you ask, a little stupified at the sight (it was kinda hot though). although at this point, you shouldn’t really question how itoshi rin works since he takes the meaning of ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ to a whole other level.

instead of answering, he hands them over to you and you have no choice but to take them, your arms now overloaded with three stuffed toys.

before you can even open your mouth to ask if he broke into the machines, your phone buzzes with a notification and the second you open it, you’re met with a familiar ‘⚠️bereal’ banner, one that makes you excited over the impeccable timing. rin raises an eyebrow at your sudden surprise.

“bereal! quick, pose!” you demand and rin obeys, raising a peace sign with a slight smile before the camera turns around to you and the many stuffed toys you’re cuddling.

how adorable you are might just kill him.

the dark-haired shakes the thought away before taking out his phone, instructing you to smile. you pose for the photo, hugging all the plushies closely to your chest whilst rin gives his usual deadpan stare into the camera. he then gives you his phone to check if it was okay to post and when you approve, you press the ‘post >’ button for him.

shutting off his phone for him, it’s at the same time that the bereal notification pops up again, this time detailing how one of his friends had posted but that’s not what caught your attention.

it’s a certain photo that made your heart thump loudly in its ribcage.

“am i your lockscreen?” you ask, pride and flattery swelling in your stomach, manifesting through the warmth of your cheeks.

the slight widening of his eyes give you all the answers you need. “you weren’t supposed to see that.”

nothing could stop the slow grin from erupting on your expression. it’s ridiculous to say so, but it almost feels like a weight is being lifted from your chest, the pains of the last few weeks erasing themselves completely with this one detail.

that’s how you know rin was meant for you.

“out of all pictures of me, you chose this one?” you question, gesturing to the selfie that you once sent him during your study sessions. your hair was messy, there was a semi-crazed look in your eyes, but at least the moisturising lip gloss you had reapplied then made you look somewhat put together.

looking at his phone once more, you feel a little warm.

“i like it,” he mutters shyly, unable to look you in the eye. despite his embarrassment, his statement fills you with endless relief, providing gratification for your relationship with rin that you didn’t know you needed.

though you’ve been friends with him for quite some time now, you feel as though you don’t really recognise the man in front of you. past perceptions you’ve had of him has now been shattered by his flustered gaze, the relentless blush coating his cheeks, and the uncharacteristic way he slumps, as if defending himself from any judgement you might throw at him.

luckily for him, that’s not what you’re interested in doing.

unlocking your phone, you hand it to him. “take a matching selfie so i can make it my lock screen too.”

at least you have all the time in the world to get to know him all over again.

(rin will never tell you that he only has been active on bereal so he could see what you were up to. except it backfired every time because instead of satisfying how desperately he was longing for you during your two weeks of no contact, it only made him want you more. he wanted to be there with you through your intense study sessions, he wanted to be going on walks with you, he wanted to be there with you when you were watching one more episode of your favourite tv show before going to bed, he just wanted to be there with you.

now he has all the time to make sure he is.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[@y/n’s BeReal]

@ karasu69: @fruityninjaotoya YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS 　　→ @fruitninjaotoya: Shut your micropenis up

@ yocchan: Y/N WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS 　　→ @ nagixxxxxxxxxxxxx: ratio 　　→ @ yocchan: DON’T RATIO ME RN

@monsterbachira: omg are y’all 😍❤️😍 rn 　　→ @y/n: wut. 　　→ @itshrin: Yes 　　→ @monsterbachira: y/n rin is actually a good kisser 　　→ @y/n: thanks for letting me know meguru! 　　→ @itshrin: i’m going to end you.

@bbgreo: i’m glad y’all had fun but no itoshi rin on our platonic date pls! 　　→ @y/n: would never dream of it luv <3 　　→ @itshrin: Sleep with one eye open, Reo 　　→ @y/n: that’s my best friend :( 　　→ @itshrin: You don’t need him 　　→ @y/n: reo and i are one you can’t separate us 　　→ @itshrin: Ok fine 😒 　　→ @bbgreo: yay! 　　→ @y/n: yay!

<reo3: told you you were too pretty to reject xx

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin #itoshi rin bllk #blue lock

8K notes · View notes

kiachiako · 7 months

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september nct recs

my library of favorites from SEPTEMBER <3 all creds to authors

[ sorted by word count ]

series

[m] HAECHAN | settle down pt. 1 | pt. 2 | @hyuckmov — rockstar!hyuck, genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff

oneshots

[m] MARK | sweet cream, cold brew | @lucyandthepen 26.4k — something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.

[m] MARK | my little doll | @haechansdoll 20k — Humans have hormones, you understand that much. But does that explain why you can't stop the filthy daydreams that fill your head whenever you see a specific redhead? Does it excuse you for getting turned on by him simply breathing in your direction? And to make matters worse, he is off-limits, if your father found out you were messing with his prized boxer? You would be chained to a tower and your red-haired crush would be used as mincemeat.

HAECHAN | one, two, three | @cherryeoniis 19k — In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.

[m] JENO | summer hair = forever young | @setsugekka 18.1k — Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself. Day one? Dinner and a movie. Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks. Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.

JAEMIN | written in ink | @cherryeoniis 15.3k — professor!jaemin, historical au (early 19th century), fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

[m] MARK | watch me | @sluttyten 14.6k — you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

TAEIL | in earnest | @neonun-au 12k — a letter written in haste when you were fifteen and in love with your best friend gets sent out in the dawn of your engagement. when a reply is sent, revealing feelings you had long thought forgotten, you are left with a choice to make amidst a rather awkward visit.

[m] JENO | fight club | @tyonfs 11.9k — after park jisung introduces you to his shady after-school activity, you realize it’s far too dangerous to be involved with the underground fight club in any way. their members are rough around the edges—except for lee jeno, who keeps you coming back for more.

MARK | a series of white lies | @tyonfs 10.5k — in which it takes you six years to accept that you’re in love with mark lee. (it takes him one.)

HAECHAN | wicked games | @cherryeoniis 10.1k — angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, friends with benefits, fuckboy! haechan

MARK | baseball (& other disasters) | @tqmies 10k — Everyone admired Mark Lee, starting pitcher of your school’s baseball team and famed ladies man. You, on the other hand, only know him as the boy who broke your dorm lobbies microwave the first time you met.

[m] JAEHYUN | dive | @yougotthatbilly 9.2k — frat boy!Jaehyun: Jaehyun calls shotgun.

[m] RENJUN | high-waisted shorts | @tyonfs 7.8k — huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

[m] JAEMIN | blur | @jaeminvore 7.5k — Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face and hungover was one thing. Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face, hungover and in a bed that wasn’t your own in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that were obviously not yours, was another and a punishment specifically made for you—your own personal hell.

[m] JAEHYUN | racer | @smileysuh 6.7k — street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny

[m] HAECHAN | tattoos together | @cherryeoniis 5.4k — rockstar!haechan x reader

[m] DOYOUNG | hungry for you | @sluttyten 4.9k — doyoung is your best friend’s older brother, and you hate each other until one evening you’re alone together and the tension finally breaks

HAECHAN | dance to this | @cherryeoniis 3.8k — dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers

. . .

drowning in college rn :((

xoxo <3

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 8 months

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After The End

Pairing: Bucky x Reader/former Steve x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: idk... there's lots of arguing and resentment

Genre: mostly angst some fluff here and there

Summary: It took you ages to put yourself back together when Steve chose to stay in the 40s, what happens when he comes back two years after

***

Life after Thanos was hard. Watching some of your closest friends disappear was not something you would ever be able to forget. Especially with those of you that were left scattered around trying to patch up what could be saved. Those five years were hard, but harder still was having almost everyone you loved return only to lose others. If you had known that beating Thanos would mean losing your boyfriend you might not have tried so hard. It's selfish to think that way, you know it is but you had a whole life planned with Steve, and being heroes you knew there was a chance you wouldn't get to see it through but losing him like this was- almost too much to bare. All he had to do was return the stupid stones to where you'd gotten them from to save the universe. It was supposed to be simple and there was something soul shattering about him choosing not to return to the team, to you. He took the stones back and then he stayed. Chose a life with Peggy that was never his rather than the life with you that he already had. It was agony, for months you were heartbroken. But you got through it. You mourned that life you envisioned, you mourned him, and while you'll probably always love him, you refused to let his choice destroy you. And you considered yourself lucky because Bucky was there for you through it all. On nights that were really bad, Bucky would stay with you even if you were up all night.

You aren't entirely sure when it happened, even now, looking back on it you can't pinpoint the moment late night conversations and afternoons completing chores became... more than that. You guess in spending so much time together you started to see Bucky in a different light. You'd always cared for him but what happened with Steve seems to have created a level of closeness you didn't expect. That first night that you kissed him was unexpected even to you. You'd been talking about nothing of consequence, he was lying on the floor of your room while you were in your bed, both of you staring at your ceiling for the most part. There was a lull in the conversation so you said the thing that had only clicked for you the week before at that point.

"I can't believe I let myself feel inadequate for so long." You sighed. You'd convinced yourself, for weeks, that Steve leaving was because you weren't enough, and only now were you coming to your senses about it.

"I'm sorry." Bucky had whispered it so quietly you almost thought he wasn't talking to you.

"You're sorry? For what? You didn't make him leave." You scoffed at him.

"For letting you feel less than perfect."

"Come on Buck, that's not on you." You'd rotated onto your stomach with a chuckle at his words. He'd cracked one eye open to look at you when he realized you were staring at him. Before you let yourself think about it too hard, you had leaned over the edge of your bed and kissed Bucky. It was quick and a bit awkward because of the angle but you made sure not to shy away from his surprised stare after.

"Did you just-" Bucky didn't even finish the question.

"Yeah. I guess I did." You'd smiled slowly watching a slight pink warm Bucky's cheeks.

You wish you could simply say 'and the rest is history' but that makes it seem like things were way easier than they were. It wasn't a smooth transition by any means. That night neither of you spoke for far too long, and when you could muster up something to say it wasn't to address the rapidly growing elephant in the room- it was to dispell the tension. You and Bucky spent two weeks dancing around the subject before he finally asked you if you were even ready for another relationship after Steve. That's when it clicked, why he'd been avoiding it in the first place, he was considering the possibility you were rebounding. Understandable concern but nope. It had been months, almost a year actually, since Steven had left. You knew you were in a place to begin again and you wanted to do it with Bucky.

Now the rest is history. You've been together ever since. About a year and a half at this point and you can't remember the last time you were this happy. The two of you meshed so well you can't believe there was a time you thought your future was with another man. You smile to yourself as you think about it while working on a painting. There's a knock at the front door that you almost don't hear.

"Y/n can you get the door? I'm in the bathroom!" Bucky shouts.

"Oh shit, of course!" You put down your brush and head to the door. You can't describe the shock that gripped you when you open the door.

"Steven." You blink at him.

"Hey. Nat- told me you'd moved. Luckily she uh, had your new address so-" He trails off with a shrug.

"Look not to- sound rude or anything, like I'm glad to see you, I think but, what are you doing here?" You ask.

"I thought- I thought I knew what I wanted but I got it wrong. I got it so wrong. My life- my happiness, it's here. With you." Steve steps towards you and you instinctively step back, placing a hand up gently to indicate your boundary.

"Hang on a second Steve. Just because your plan didn't work out doesn't mean you can just waltz back into my life like nothing's changed."

"Y/n! Who's at the door?" Bucky's voice calls from inside.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." You call back.

"I- didn't realize you'd have company." Steve mutters.

"Oh I don't. That's-" Before you can explain, Bucky's asking something, now walking over to join you at the front door.

"So who's this unbelievable surprise guest of-" Bucky's hands drop from where they were just about to settle on your waist when he finally glances out your door. "Steve." He says stepping back.

"Told you, you wouldn't believe me." You toss over your shoulder.

"Hey pal. Long time no see." Steve says. You can't tell if he's totally put it together yet but the strain in his voice tells you he at least knows something's changed between you and his best friend.

"I'll say. What happened to growing old with Carter?" Bucky asks, stepping around you to half hug Steve and offer a shoulder pat.

"I realized that- wasn't the life I wanted. I mean it was once upon a time but, not anymore. Things have changed." Steve shrugs.

"I see." Bucky nods.

"Well, Steve you're welcome to stay here with us while you- get back on your feet in the 21st century! Right Buck? Or I can send you over to Sam, he's back in Louisiana with family right now but I'm sure he'd love to see you too." You say.

"Oh, yeah, we can set him up in the extra room although- your art stuff is in there, did you want me to move it into my office or should I put it in your room?" Bucky hums.

"Do you have space in your office? Cuz I definitely can set it up in my room-"

"There's tons of space in my office." Bucky shrugs before you can finish. Steve clears his throat and you turn your attention back to him.

"Sorry to interrupt your- logistical discussion about all this, I j- I didn't realize you two were living together." Steve says.

"It's been two years. Like you said, things have changed." You say.

"You haven't told him?" Bucky looks at you.

"Well in my defense I was about to when you walked over here and the conversation kinda pivoted." You say.

"Okay well, do you want to do it or should I?" Bucky asks.

"I mean I don't want to but- it should be me, yeah." You mutter.

"Okay, can we stop doing this sidebar thing you guys are doing? Tell me- what exactly?" Steve asks. Bucky's hand settles comfortingly against your back, it's out of Steve's line of sight and you appreciate it greatly.

"Bucky- Bucky's my partner." You say.

"In the- you go on missions together sense or the 'my girlfriend is dating my best friend' sense?" Steve asks.

"It's been two years Steve-"

"So you replace me with my closest friend?"

"No. I moved on and yeah it was with Bucky but that was by chance it wasn't about you at all. Don't make it personal."

"You just happen to move on with my best bud? It feels pretty personal." He scoffs.

"Okay! Let's settle down. Steve, if you're gonna take our offer to stay I will show you to your room. Nat has some of your things at her place, the rest of it is in a storage unit. I'll take you down after." Bucky interrupts the would-be argument by changing the subject. You step out of the doorway to let Steve walk in as Bucky tugs him along.

"Why are my things at Nat's?" Steve asks.

"Well some of the more valuable things y/n held onto for a while but when she didn't want to keep them around here anymore we gave them to Nat to look after until we came up with a better plan since we didn't wanna leave them in a storage unit we'd barely go to." Bucky explains as the pair walk further into the house. You can't hear Steve's reply as you walk into the kitchen to regroup. Letting him stay here is going to make shit so weird. You sigh to yourself, with any luck he'll get on his feet pretty quickly and this will only last a couple of months. You can do a couple of months.

The first few weeks are, tense. You're not sure if Bucky is as aware of it as you are but your house is awkward and quiet most hours since Steve showed up. It's like most of your routines have been disrupted and you're not sure which ones are best left for after he's gone. Right now you're on your balcony with a cup of tea. When you glance over the ledge, you see Steve trudging into view. You watch curiously to figure out what he's doing, not even realizing Bucky's snuck up behind you until his arms settle around your waist.

"Penny for your thoughts my darling?" Bucky asks.

"Things are weird. Maybe I shouldn't have offered to let him stay here." You frown.

"Don't be silly. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't offered." Bucky chuckles.

"Sure but- now I'm worried I've put us- put you in an uncomfortable situation." Bucky spins you around to face him. His hand comes up to the side of your face, fingers grazing your cheek softly.

"I'm fine. Are you uncomfortable with him being here? Because I can suggest he spend some time checking in with the others if you'd-"

"No, I don't want to kick him out. I just- I don't want you to lose him because of me." You say taking his hand in yours kiss his knuckles.

"If 70 years and Russian brainwashing couldn't destroy our friendship I think we can make it past this." Bucky winks at you. You glance over the balcony again in time to see Steve toss some wood at a growing pile.

"What is he doing? Why is he piling wood?" Your eyebrows scrunch up.

"You can just ask him you know." Bucky muses.

"It's not harming anyone. I don't need to know." You shake your head.

"You wanna ask don't you?"

"It's just strange." You say fighting a smile.

"Just ask." Bucky laughs leaving you to your tea on the balcony. A moment later you let your curiosity get the better of you and lean against the metal railing of the balcony.

"Steve hon, what on earth are you doing?" You ask him.

"A tree fell, so- I'm breaking it down into firewood."

"Stevie it's August, we're not using the fireplace." You shake your head with a laugh.

"Better safe than sorry." He shrugs.

"You must be incredibly bored." You muse.

"No, I just like to be prepared." He says. "Alright, I'm a little bored." He adds with a sigh after a moment.

"Well if you need something to do- I was catching up with Nat the other day, she said a couple of the tenants in her building moved out for whatever reason, you should talk to her about applying." You tell him.

"I'll give her a call." He squints up at you.

"Good." You nod heading back into the apartment. That's honestly the longest conversation you've had since the day he moved in. Usually, you spend all day avoiding him- or he spends all day avoiding you- you're not sure but you don't speak really, except you make a point to ask him about dinner, if he has plans, or if he'd like to join you and Bucky. You're a good host, but you don't talk to each other much. Not that you expect any different, you were together for six years and he up and left but he's back now- and things are not what he thought they'd be. What else could be said honestly?

You actually don't mind the silence between you two, because the day Steve decides to break that pattern brings forth the worst conversation. The type you've been dreading since the moment he appeared at your door. You're cleaning around the apartment and Steve offered to help, first you worked in silence, just the music from your speaker filling the air until a particular song came on. One you played for Steve once that he immediately fell in love with. It became your song. You only recently stopped associating the song with him but you forgot it was in this playlist otherwise you would've picked another one.

"You still listen to this song?" Steve asks. You keep your back turned to him as you wipe down the coffee table.

"Of course I do. I knew the song before- it was, ours." You say.

"This is the first time I've heard it in a while." He muses.

"Duh the song didn't exist until the 2010s." You scoff.

"Yeah I guess that's- that's true. It's strange though, that awareness of what's to come."

"Yeah that's why most of sci fi warns you not to go time jumping."

"You clean with different products now." Steve points out. You're not sure what he's trying to do here but you are in no mood to dance around awkwardness with him.

"Scented products are easier for Bucky. He says plain bleach smells too sterile." You mutter. It's Bucky that buys most of the cleaning products anyway, but he always buys citrus stuff.

"It's not easy, you know, seeing my best friend with the love of my life every day." Steve says after a stretch of silence. At this, you turn to face him, trying to stifle that frustration bubbling inside you.

"You left me. Left us. Not the other way around Steve. You don't get to complain about us having picked up the pieces." You tell him.

"I still love you, that's not something I can just pretend isn't there." He says.

"And I love Bucky." You shrug.

"Not me?"

"It doesn't matter." You shake your head.

"It does."

"If it mattered to you at all you would've never left." You grit out.

"So say it." He says quietly.

"What?"

"Tell me you don't love me."

"Steve-"

"Say it. If what we had is truly all in the past for you tell me you don't love me. That there's no place in your heart for me and- I'll move on."

"This isn't fair." You shake your head.

"No?"

"No! You got the life with Peggy that you thought you wanted. You abandoned me. Now you're asking me to choose you when you didn't choose me. How can you expect me to do that?"

"I'm choosing you now!"

"And I've chosen Bucky. I wanted the world with you. All you had to do was come back to me. And you didn't. It's too late now Steve. You needed to choose me two years ago."

"You still haven't said-"

"I don't love you. That's what you want to hear? You lost me the day you chose not to come back. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. I chose Bucky, yes. But you-" Deep breath. "If you can't handle me and Bucky together in our home then- maybe you should go stay with Sam or Natasha." You say. You're not going to argue with him.

"Are you kicking me out?"

"I'm offering you an alternative- because, I will not be choosing you. Not now, not ever again, you had your chance and if you can't come to terms with that, if it's too difficult to be around reminders that you fucked up and I kept living life without you then by all means don't destroy your mental health staying here. You have other friends."

"How can you expect me to just- pretend what we had means nothing? How can you pretend it means nothing?"

"I'm not asking you to pretend shit. I also am not pretending it means nothing I'm just aware of the reality that it's over and that's something you need to come to terms with because you left and Bucky made me feel alive again when your leaving nearly killed me. It's been two years, did you think I would simply be waiting indefinitely for you to decide I was worth something to you again?"

"Wait a second you have always been worth something to me. You've always been worth everything." Steve frowns.

"You don't get to say that! You don't abandon people that are 'worth everything' to you. You chose someone else and that's a choice you have to live with." You say, your finger practically in his face. The sound of the apartment door opening disrupts your anger enough that you step back.

"Hey guys- did I miss something?" Bucky frowns looking between you two even though you've already stopped back over to the coffee table. Bucky's quick to come to your side, scanning your face for any clues as to what's going on, although he heard the last bit of what you said as he was coming down the hall. "Baby?" He coaxes gently, his fingers stroking against your side.

"I'm gonna go to Sam's for a little while." Steve grits out.

"Feel free to stay there." You clip before you can stop yourself. Steve's footfalls pause for a moment at your words but he doesn't respond before eventually he trudges out the front door.

"Feel free to stay there?! What... happened while I was out?" Bucky asks with a disbelieving chuckle.

"He has... a lot of nerve." You force out through clenched teeth.

"You're gonna have to give me more details than that so I can understand what's wrong doll."

"He just told me how hard it is to watch his best friend with the 'love of his life' every day. The love of his life that he left to be with a woman that lived and died without him. He asked me to choose him. Because after two years I'm supposed to still love the man that left me. Because it's not enough that he almost destroyed me the last time. Because for some reason he thinks I'd rather be picked two years too late."

"He's hurting."

"Yeah well, so was I. Two years ago. He'll live. I did." You shrug. Bucky pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head as he gently sways you both back and forth. You lived through hell that day you realized Steve chose a life with Peggy. You'd be damned if you ever let that happen again.

***

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction

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twstowo · 3 months

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They End Up In a Universe Where The Two Of You Hate Each Other [Twst]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: The two of you are happily dating and he couldn’t have asked for anything else, however, one day he finds himself in a strange place only to find that here the two of you are enemies.

♡︎Enemies to lovers????

♡︎Includes: Riddle and Leona

[AU Masterlist]

[Here] ☆[Azul and Jamil] ☆[Vil and Idia] ☆[Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Riddle

The fate of this Riddle had been written. He would ascend to the position of the King of the Queendom of Roses as his mother passed away, and he would transform into a worse tyrant than her. Eventually, everyone he thought he could trust would turn against him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Riddle was dumbfounded when he opened his eyes, only to find himself in front of thousands of people, a crown on top of his head, proclaiming him as the King of this strange land. The people in front of him bowed in fear of his rules, as he was nothing more than a tyrant in this unfamiliar place.

Days passed as he tried to comprehend how he ended up in such a peculiar setting – one where Night Raven College didn't exist, and his mother, once the queen, had just died, making him the King of the Queendom of Roses. Along the way, he encountered some of his friends such as Trey and Che’nya, but none of them seemed to enjoy his company, only interacting with him out of fear, just like anyone else. For Riddle, this didn’t make any sense. He knew that his past actions in his universe had been that of a tyrant, but he had changed with your help and that of his friends who were here by his side. Seeing himself in a similar situation again, he decided to alter the course of history that dictated he be betrayed by his own people.

“Stay still, or I will cut your throat.” Finally, you entered the picture. Riddle had questioned when you would show up since he arrived. At first, he thought that maybe you would be one of the party members seeking his hand in marriage, but he felt that wouldn’t entirely suit you. He knew that when you showed up, you would turn his world upside down because that was the impact you had in his universe. You stood in front of him, a knife dangerously close to his throat, ready to cut it if he made any stupid moves. If this had been someone else, he would have been ready to fight, ready to call the guards and collar you. However, deep down, even with a knife next to his neck, he knew that he could trust you.

You were an assassin, meant to kill the tyrant king, driven with only this purpose. It had been one of your group that had murdered the Queen, and now it only lasted for you to finish the job of ending the tyrant's bloodline. However, strangely after the king’s coronation, you started seeing a strange change in his actions. The once tyrant man who collared everyone in the city came back to uncollar them. He hosted tea parties for the people in the city and abolished some of the laws his mother had created. Did you really have to kill someone like that? Was he as bad as everyone made him seem? You decided to check for yourself, and with that, you found that Riddle was, in fact, someone with a gentle heart.

“I wish to undo what my mother started,” you heard his docile words, a questionable expression on your face. Did he really mean that? He could be trying to lower your guard to call the guards, but within his eyes, you saw no sign of lies. He meant what he had said, he truly wanted to better the Queendom. You decided to give him one chance, for if he failed, you would come back to take his life.

⋆⋅☆Leona

The fate of this Leona had been written. He would kill his brother out of jealousy for ascending to the throne, and over time, he would be overthrown by his own nephew, left to be alone and mocked.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

A story that Leona deemed fitting for him, as he once again witnessed his brother achieving what he had desired, becoming even here the shadow of his own brother. Most of his days were spent lazing around, knowing that no good would come from trying to follow the predetermined path laid out for him. Unless he did things differently.

The sweet taste of power was intoxicating, and he planned everything with immense detail, confident that everything would turn out perfectly. That was until he saw you. You, hailing from another land, sought to establish a peaceful connection between the realms. Upon seeing him, you strolled towards him with a fiery look, as if commanding him to behave. If it had been anyone else, he might have lost his composure, making sure you would regret ever looking at him disrespectfully. But he could never do that to you. He almost found the expression amusing, almost as if you had turned into his lucky angel, advising him to halt his plans before he could end up as fate had written for him here.

“Why are you always lazing around?” The sweet melody of your voice captured his attention, but there was nothing sweet about it. Your hands rested on your hips as you looked down at his figure. To anyone hearing you speak, it would seem as if you hated him, and to a point, you actually did. The fact that you saw so much potential in Leona, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was sleep, made you furious beyond belief. You had come from a family that demanded perfection, and perfection you had to become. Working day and night to fulfill their expectations, you aimed to continue their bloodline. Seeing someone like Leona, who appeared to have been born with everything you had to work so hard for, made you mad.

“Why not join me for once?” He asked, tapping the grass next to him, a mocking tone present in his voice as he checked if you could lower your guard to fulfill his wish. In truth, he just missed the moments back in his universe where he would lay his head on your lap as you talked about your day. Yet, the you from this universe wasn’t so thrilled with that idea, and he watched as you turned around with a roll of your eyes.

Your encounters were filled with glares, as you didn't seem to enjoy his company and spoke ill of him. However, somehow, even if mean, he found himself enjoying the time spent with you, albeit fleetingly. While he glanced at your departing figure, wishing to spend more time with you, he knew that, just like in his universe, you were meant to be by his side.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twst writing #twistedwonderland #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader

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sc0tters · 3 months

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Three’s the Crowd | Nick Moldenhauer & Luca Fantilli

summary: at a team party two boys get the chance to have you, but what happens when you want them both?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (m and fem receiving!), mild degradation, threesome, swearing.

word count: 5.02k

authors note: the Nick and Luca threesome is finally here and I’m embarrassed to admit how long it took me… @fantillisdaylight thank you for trusting me with this idea and I hope I have done it justice! this one gets hot people, that was the aim so let’s all hope I did it!

You had always been someone Luca kept in his mind.

Becoming best friends with Adam when the boys signed to the Chicago Steel was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to you. He was the reason the University of Michigan went from third on your list of potentials to first. The Fantilli boy quickly became your person as he knew you like the back of his hand.

That’s why you ended up a little lost when he made the jump from college to the NHL. The man who kept you sane was no longer there and that what made you sink into the crowd as you needed a new sense of direction. So when Nick showed up it felt like your calls had all been answered with one swift movement.

Luca grew envious by how quickly you rekindled your friendship with the Moldenhauer boy who everyone swore had a crush on you. The thoughts were things that you had heard and anyone would have lied if they said they didn’t enjoy hearing how guys felt about them. But a level of greed seemed to seep into your mind as you turned into a glutton, taking the boys flirting yet still wanting more from other guys.

You thought you were slick as you would have multiple guys in your phone as you basked in the attention, but you had your favourite’s. Your main rule was that you never had these boys in your room, you could flirt but nothing was allowed to cross any lines as you were having fun.

Yet by the time the cold and icy air that January brought, so came a level of frustration that not even watching snow fall outside your window could cure. You were sexually frustrated and after weeks of contemplating and having to accept that your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to cure it. With the help of your friends you came up with the idea that would make you irresistible and if you were lucky more than one guy would end up in your trap.

Just as you hoped from the moment you walked into that party heads turned to watch you. Your black skirt was tight around your ass and your white cropped polo was barely keeping your bra hidden. Luca and Nick each stared at you from where they stood and you did little to hide your smirk “hey boys.” You stopped in front of them as you smiled.

You swore the boys had to be stupid to not see the way you had both of them in your hands “come here with anyone tonight?” Luca asked as he scanned the path behind you only to see a few of your friends from your dorm building walking on together “couldn’t I come see my favorite host alone?” You teased as the sophomore hockey players were hosting tonight after a run of big wins came from the team “you know I won’t turn down seeing you sweets.” The boy had given you the nickname years ago yet somehow it still brought a blush to your cheeks after all this time.

Nick resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he watched the sight before his eyes “you want a drink?” The question slipped from his lips reminding the sophomores that he was there “only if you’ll have one too.” The wink you sent him made any and all jealousy that he had practically vanish from his mind.

He let his hand lock into yours as he pulled you towards the kitchen. A smirk formed on Nicks lips as he could feel the glare that Luca sent him “happy to see you tonight princess.” Nick mumbled sending shivers down your spine.

Luca let a scowl form on his face as bile built up in his throat, if Nick wanted you to play this game then he was going to have a worthy opponent in Luca.

The party continued on and now with a slight buzz and a beer soaked shirt from when Gavin bumped into you. The bathroom seemed to call your name as you pressed your hand against the wall keeping you upright “you enjoying making a mess sweets?” Luca teased turning his attention from the blonde girl who had been up against the wall next to him.

You shook your head as you groaned “Gav did.” His face hardened as he left the girl irritated “gotta help my girl.” Luca shrugged as he sent you a smile.

His hand pressed to the small of your back ignoring her complaints as he ushered you into the bathroom “didn’t need you to come with me.” You mumbled as the door shut behind you “missed you tonight sweets.” Luca smiled as he watched you strip out of your white revealing your sticky pink bra.

He’d be lying if he said that as he watched you pat down your sticky skin, Luca felt his cock throb as his eyes trailed down to your skirt that seemed even shorter “clearly you did.” You scoffed as you shook your head think back to the girl who was next to him not even a few minutes ago.

A laugh left his lips as you furrowed your eyebrows “you jealous?” Sure she was a pretty little blonde, and sure she was exactly his type but she wasn’t you. And for Luca that mattered the most “please you think I care about what you do with some-” you were cut off as his lips hit yours.

His hand reached up as it tugged in your hair “lu.” You moaned leaving your mouth open as it gave him a chance to slide his tongue into your mouth “mhm.” He groaned pushing you against the sink as you sat up on the counter.

He pulled away giving him the chance to see your swollen lips as you looked up at him “some what?” Luca smirked as you sent him a glare “you gonna let me have you pretty girl?” He asked dropping his head to your neck as he began to nip at your skin taking in the taste of the beer.

A whimper left your lips as you pressed your thighs together “you have me Lu.” You nodded as the pool within your panties became far too much for you to handle “fuck who knew I needed to kiss you to get you like this?” The hockey player teased dropping his hand between your legs letting his fingers dance against your thighs.

He watched in awe as you bit your lower lip “fucking do it before I find someone else.” The warning made his eyes go sharp “like who?” Luca didn’t want for your response as he began fiddling with your panties “Nick.” A penny dropped in his mind as Luca ripped the fabric that covered your cunt like it was nothing “Luca!”

Your groan echoed off of the walls as the boy laughed “c’mon you know I’ll get you another pair if that’s what you were worried about sweets.” Luca clicked his tongue as he finally pressed his fingers against your cunt.

You shuddered at his touch feeling himself drive his fingers up and down your slit “you’re fucking soaked.” He gasped into your ear before he went to suck at your ear lobe “please.” You whimpered pushing your hips closer to him.

Luca rolled his eyes as he began letting his lips nip at your skin. Your eyes screwed shut as you were lulled by his actions. His lips moved down your chest as he kissed between the valley of your breasts “just fucking do something god.” You grumbled as you were ready to unclip your bra for him to speed it up.

The boy shook his head as be smiled “you gonna let me taste you before you start acting like a brat?” Luca quipped back making you nod your head repeatedly as though he couldn’t see you.

He didn’t take long as he dropped to his knees hooking his hands under your legs pulling you closer to the edge of the sink “such a pretty pussy.” The hockey players mumbled kissing up your thighs as he made sure to not miss a spot “god please.” You begged feeling his breath against your cunt.

Time seemed to stop as your body almost double downed in pleasure when his tongue lay flat on your slit “that’s how I got to shut you up?” Luca clicked his tongue as he let out a chuckle. The boy squeezed your legs as he moaned at the mere tug of your hand through his hair.

His tongue focused on your clit like you were his last meal “right there.” You mumbled rolling your hips against him. As his cock now hurt in his boxers Luca didn’t even care about it as he watched you have that fucked out look on your face.

In fact he was so focused on you that he didn’t notice the door opening “oh.” Nick looked at the sight with wide eyes and as he spoke it made you use the little energy you had left to look at him “fucking shut the door!” Luca groaned replacing his tongue with his thumb on your clit.

Nick was quickly brought back to wart as he was reminded of the fact that there was a party literally on the other side of the wall “c’mere Nick.” You cooed curling your finger in your direction as you looked at him “we won’t bite.” You added letting your lips form a loose smile.

He nodded finally shutting the door making the effort to lock the door “this what you wanted baby?” Luca teased pulling his head back to your cunt where he went back to his meal “wanted to both.” You confessed making Nick smile as he finally walked over to you.

You watched Nick as he cupped your jaw “want to kiss you.” You mewled as Nick finally listened to you. His lips were rough against yours as you melted at his touch.

Luca couldn’t help it as he pinched your hip reminding you that he was still there “fuck!” You groaned pushing your head against the mirror “enjoying this baby?” Luca teased bringing you back to the image of him between your thighs.

Nick continued to kiss down your neck as he sucked at your sensitive skin “so much.” You whimpered as the boy reached behind your back with one hand to unclasp your bra. Both boys looked in awe as your breasts were freed from their constraints as your bra was thrown to the floor “you been hiding these from us?” Nick let out a grunt as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

The room grew hot as you had one nipping at your breast and the other between your legs “you see how fucking needy she is for us?” Luca’s rough voice had you shivering as your thighs squeezed his head “can’t wait to see what she’s like around a cock.” Nicks vulgar words made Luca laugh as he kissed your cunt.

His tongue lashed against you and with each swipe your strength wavered “more?” You whimpered now infatuated with the idea of both boys sending you over the edge as their cocks stuffed your cunt and your mouth. Nick seemed to be on the same wavelength as you as he nodded “go make a mess on his tongue pretty girl and then I’ll let you get a taste okay?” The freshman watched in awe as your hair began to stick to the back of your neck from swear as your body shook almost overwhelmed from the pleasure you felt “Lu I’m gonna come.” You announced and you swore it only made him increase the pace of his tongue.

Feelings overwhelmed you as your mouth fell open yet it seemed that not a single sound left your lips as your eyes rolled back “fuck she’s a needy little thing huh?” Nick laughed as he kept his hands on your shoulders forcing your body to stay still as you came “fuck off!” You groaned making him scoff “gonna make you wish you didn’t say that.” Luca was too focused still lapping up the taste of your release to even notice that Nick had his hand pressed against the shell of your ear as he whispered.

As you tugged on Luca’s hair once more he finally pulled away as he was reminded of the fact that he wanted at least one more orgasm out of you. A smirk laced his facial expressions as his chin glistened from your juices that had made a mess on his face “you’ve got such a sweet fucking cunt.” Luca announced as he ran his fingers through your folds separating them in the process “look at how soaked she is.” Nick swore he had gone to heaven when he got the chance to look at you.

A look of almost shame found itself on your face “all for us isn’t it baby?” The freshman spoke in a hushed tone that had you just about ready to roll over and turn into a puddle “I need your cocks.” You groaned as the sudden feeling of Lucas fingers teasing your hole and Nick’s thumb on your cunt growing too overstimulating for you.

That was all it seemed to take from you to have Nick helping you off of the sink as you stood up straight “who do you want first?” Luca palmed his boner through his pants “want him in my mouth.” Your eyes locked with Nick as the image of Luca between your legs became just as strong.

The movements were quick, like in the blink of an eye and you were between both boys with Nicks hands around your neck and Luca’s one pinching into your hip “god you don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.” Luca felt like he forgot to breathe as he guided his cock to your clit spreading his precum over the sensitive nub as he teased your slit.

Your mouth far too occupied to complain though as Nick had his lips against yours. If this was any other moment Luca could have possibly found it in his heart to see the boys joy in the fact that Nick was finally getting with the girl of his dreams. But as you paid little attention to Luca it made him grow jealous, so with that he didn’t hesitate to slam his hips against yours as he gave you little time to adjust to how your walls swallowed his cock “fuck!” You moaned almost watching your legs give out as surprise mixed with amusement and you began to feel your mind go numb.

You let your hand brush down Nicks torso as it slid beneath the drawstring of his shorts “you want me that bad princess?” It took everything from Nick to not pass out in that very moment as he watched your eyes go full as your breasts bounced each time Luca bottomed you out.

It seemed that Nick was no longer going to try to have you in his tough guy act as he instead gave you what he wanted pulling his boner from his boxers as he let it hit his pubic bone “bro you should have gotten this pussy.” Luca groaned as he slapped your ass.

As your mouth fell open Nick took the opportunity to slide his cock into it “there you go pretty girl.” The freshman cooed as he clutched his fingers into your hair as it made you moan out in pleasure “think this is what she wanted all along?” Luca asked as the squelching sounds of your cunt that mixed with the sounds of your gags were like music to his ears.

You couldn’t help but let your cunt clench around him as your walls squeezed his length as you attempted to look up at Nick “looks like you fucking love being our little slut don’t ya?” When you didn’t answer him his hand tugged at your roots unintentionally making you open your mouth wider “hmm.” Your voice came with an inaudible moan that sent vibrations through Nicks body.

Luca let out a grunt as you hadn’t let up on the squeeze around his cock “fuck sweets if you don’t loosen yourself I’m not gonna last.” The warning made you whimper as you swirled your tongue around Nicks cock forcing your back to arch as you tried to take most of his cock forcing yourself to breathe through your nose.

This new angle also meant that Luca was hitting a further spot within you and with that came even more pleasure for all three of you as your throat loosened as the strain on your neck softened “think she deserves her second?” Nick had pushed his fingers to the base of your scalp forming a makeshift ponytail to get better control of his thrusts as he fucked your face.

The Fantilli boy shook his head as he heard you moan at the offer “no I think little sweets here should make you come first.” His words came with his hand on your clit like a bit of encouragement to get you to make him last longer than his younger teammate.

Your eyes were close to rolling back into your head as you gasped swirling your tongue around Nick’s cock like your life depended on it “don’t stop pretty girl.” The coo had your legs shaking as you were left certain that without Luca hand gripping at your hip you would have had your face in the floor “I’m gonna come fuck!” Nick let out a groan as he let his cock slide out from your mouth before his hand replaced where your tongue was “open those pretty little lips f’me.” As his hand began to jerk himself of Nick finally hit his release.

He watched in awe as the warm sticky ropes of his release shot from his aching cock and began to paint your lower face and even found as far as to land on your collar bones only making you moan louder as you felt it. Luca kept his hand locked in your hair as he kept your face from dropping “you close sweets?” The boys wanton expression made you mewl as his other hand stayed pressed against your stomach forcing you to feel how deep his cock went in your cunt.

A flurry of incoherent words flew from your lips as you nodded “so big.” Was the only thing that either of them could understand “is that a yes princess?” Nick let out a grunt as he found his lips hovering over yours as he took the moment to see the mess he had made on your skin “please.” The relentless pounding of Luca’s cock had your legs shaking as your ears rang.

The boys laughter taunted you “know you can beg better than that you.” Nick clicked his tongue as he pecked your lips watching your eyes flutter “want to make a mess for you please.” You whimpered feeling your cunt throb around his teammates cock “let yourself go then pretty girl.” As Luca huffed the words out wondering how much longer he could last within the bounds of your heavenly cunt.

You didn’t need to be told twice as Nick let your lips go as your moans echoed off of the walls as Luca’s orgasm was brought on by yours “right there sweets.” The sophomore grunted as his cock coated your walls fucking you through your orgasm.

Your chest heaved as you came down from it still feeling your core full as his thumb drew faint circles on your clit “enough.” You squirmed feeling a level of sensitivity build up between your legs once more “since you asked so nicely sweets.” Luca teased sliding his cock out of you letting you fall into Nicks arms.

The younger boy placed a kiss to your head as he smiled “Luca you in there!” Rutger groaned as he knocked on the door reminding the three of you that the party was still coming on downstairs.

Luca couldn’t help but groan as he watched Nick smirk “yeah.” Luca raked his fingers through his hair “we’re downstairs playing beer pong so hurry up!” the blondes words made a smile form on your face as you laughed “maybe leave the girl in there though.” He trailed off making your eyes go wide as you were reminded of the fact that they could hear you.

The Fantilli boy sighed as he pecked your lips reaching down for his shorts that were on the floor “stay with me?” You croaked out throat still raw as you looked at Nick.

He nodded as he lifted you back onto the sink as you both watched the older boy leave before Nick locked the door again “how are you feeling pretty girl?” The words made you smile as a giddy feeling built in your chest “this your version of after talk?” You let out a laugh as you watched him walk over to you.

The way his eyes stared at you made you feel so exposed, even as you were naked “liked making a mess on you.” He confessed as he brushed his fingers over your collarbone when he smiled.

Your hand was as placed over his as you nodded “it doesn’t have to end there Nick.” Your proposal made his ears perk up in surprise “what do you mean?” He mumbled as you cupped his face letting your hands squeeze his cheeks.

His eyes intently stared at yours as he waited for your answer “just that I wanna spend just a little more time with ya Nicky.” You cooed letting your lips hover over his “don’t know if I can do it.” His confession made you frown as he feared he had done the wrong thing “you trust me to walk you through it?” Your strong demeanour was replaced by this soft one.

A smile sat strong on his face as he nodded “have me just how you want me tonight.” Nick mumbled as you were fully in control of him. He was surprised as he watched you tug at his shirt “then it’s not fair that I’m the only one who is naked.” There was a hint of amusement in your words as you helped him get rid of his shirt and his shorts.

Just like before Nick was attractive to you as you couldn’t help but smile “you’re such a pretty boy.” You cooed letting your saliva drop to his cock as you began to run your hand up his length as you pumped his cock in an attempt to get him hard again “just for you.” Nick groaned as you kissed his lips reminding him of the fact that he was now the centre of your attention.

It took a few more pumps of your hand for him to grow hard again and you did a few more just to tease him “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” He gasped letting his teeth sink into your shoulder as his cock began to throb in your hand as the precum oozed from his tip “watch this f’me pretty boy.” You ordered feeling a sense of power over the boy as he nodded practically lapping up your demands like they were nothing.

You drove the swollen head over your clit making you both shudder in the process “please.” Nick whined desperate to have more of you “since you asked so nicely.” You teased sliding his cock down your slit before you let it slowly slide into your cunt.

The air around you both grew warm as you both watched how your soaked pussy swallowed his cock like it was nothing “fuck!” You gaped biting down on your lip as you saw his pubic bone hit your clit as your legs went up on either side of him to accommodate him.

A smile formed on his face as he let out a little laugh “you good princess?” He asked as he let his hands setting on your hips “think I should be asking you that.” You quipped back finally losing your strong expression as he pinched the flesh of your ass.

It made him roll his eyes as he began slowly pulling his hips away from you before he brought them back “you can go harder pretty boy.” You mumbled wrapping your arms around his neck.

The thought was hot in your brain as you realised that Nick was fucking you with Luca’s come as his lube since it still coated your cunt “you still so needy after all that?” Nick let out a dry laugh as he began to taunt you “f’you.” You swore your brain was being rewired as it only made his confidence grow.

Nick began to pick up his pace as he nipped at your throat “was waiting to get you like this.” The freshman revealed as his voice was a low rasp “had to watch you be his girl.” He grumbled making his efforts stronger as it caused your breasts to bounce with each thrust.

A low moan left your lips “wanted to have you be all mine but you just had to be a little slut and want us both huh?” Part of you was surprised at how vocal he was “wanted to be your girl too.” You mewled bringing your hand between you two as you began to rub at your clit still feeling sensitive from your first two orgasms.

The sound of your squelching cunt echoed off of the walls “you get to show me that now.” Nick had been jealous the entire night having to fight Luca for every bit of your attention and he had now grown tired of it.

His cock pulsed in your core as his hands kept you planted on the counter “you’re so big.” You whined locking your legs on Nicks hips “should have let you fuck me in Chicago.” He tensed at the mention of your home city but as it made you moan he thought he was unnoticed.

Nick grew tired of kissing your neck as he swatted your hand away from your clit as he replaced it with his own “you don’t know how long I have been thinking about this pretty little cunt of yours.” You clenched around him as you heard his words “but I think you already knew how good you are.” He scoffed pinching your skin as he knew how the other guys were around you.

You were keeping your eyes screwed shut as you felt your stomach tighten “I’m gonna-“ the words couldn’t leave your lips before Nick cut you off “fucking hold it.” The hockey player growled having other things in mind for you.

A whimper was stuck in your throat “you wanted to come then you have to fucking beg.” Nick spat as his free hand was pressed up against the mirror behind you.

If this was any other moment you would have put up a fight but as your cunt was clenched and your body was close to losing it “I just want to be your little slut Nick.” You announced pressing your head against the glass behind you “make a mess on your cock and make you feel so fucking good.” Your promise made him smirk as he kissed your lips letting his teeth nip at your lower lip “make that mess.”

It was as though the heavens opened as you swore you heard the sounds of prayer bells playing in your ears “don’t fucking stop please.” You begged using the little strength that you had left to writhe your hips against him “come in me.” The words left your lips washing away any nerves that the boy might have had.

The room felt warm as your eyes fluttered “shit shit shit!” You chanted as you came clenching his cock as you spurred in his orgasm “right there!” Nick gritted as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

As he finally slowed down Nick watched your chest heave “you okay pretty girl?” His voice was soft as he kissed your cheek letting his cock slide out of your cunt “I’m good.” You mumbled as you nodded.

It was sweet as Nick smiled “you want a moment up here or you ready to go down?” He asked as he reached down for your panties “let’s go.” You felt your heart grow full at the gesture and you were going to be excited to learn that his levels of aftercare would only grow to improve from that night onwards.

You had felt weird the last few weeks. Sure the memory of that night was on replay in your mind as you started seeing the boys more frequently, both together and alone. So like any normal and responsible young adult you googled your symptoms and found three different things you could have been going through. One was something that you were about thirty years too young to be experiencing, the second was one you hoped it wasn’t. And the third was one you could have proven wrong with the simple action of peeing on a stick.

Truly you thought it was going to be nothing. Which is why you didn’t mind waiting for those three minutes to run right by. Of course though luck was never meant to truly be on your side as this was college and what better way to add stress to your life than a baby. But it didn’t end there, you didn’t even know who the father was because you had been sleeping with two guys who were also best friends.

So as the two thick lines stared back at you as though it was trying to mock you, you couldn’t help but groan “fuck!” As you slammed the test on the ground hoping that it would erase your current reality.

That wasn’t going to work though as this baby wasn’t going anywhere and you had somethings you needed to figure out, starting with whose goddamn baby, were you carrying?

#luca fantilli smut #Nick Moldenhauer smut #umich smut #hockey smut #umich imagines #umich x reader #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #oneshots #hockey imagine #imagines #nick moldenhauer #luca fantilli #amber writes fics

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silverskye13 · 1 month

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Helsknight showing up bloody at Welsknight’s base please I need suffering 🙏

There was something to be said about the stupid things he was willing to do in the name of self preservation. Damn his fears, and the unfairness of the universe, and the uncertainty of living [and dying] and everything else. The unknown had always been his greatest weakness, his greatest betrayer. Pity it was also one of the few inescapable things about living in general.

To say Helsknight stepped into Hermitcraft would be a terrible injustice of what stepping normally, let alone gracefully, looked like. What he actually did was stagger and drag himself into Hermitcraft on unsteady and shaking limbs. There were holes in him. He hadn't really taken inventory of them yet. Admitting he had a wound [or several] was enough. The minute he admitted the wounds were bad, in certain terms his mind could comprehend, was the minute shock would steal his senses. He was on Hermitcraft for the specific reason of dodging death, and it seemed to him shock, on any level, meant dying. If he wanted to die and roll the dice of respawn, he would have died in hels, in the alley he'd been jumped in, where he could at least take comfort in familiar cobblestones and the knowledge he'd dragged all his attackers down with him. But he didn't want to die, so he was here.

It was dark. He was inside a building. He was bleeding. Wels was nearby. Those were the only things he needed to know for certain. Helsknight looked around, trying to ignore the sluggish tilt his vision offered when he moved too quickly. The double vision of trying to parse memories of a place that weren't his battled with his wounded animal double vision and together they made him feel nauseous, more so than his wounding already did. Helsknight balled a fist against his sternum, like he could hold himself together that way, and concentrated very hard on walking and nothing else.

Helsknight didn't like being this close to Wels. Not while he was this injured. He could feel the awareness of his other half like a spider on his skin. There was a reflex-like urge to shout and try to shake it off, the instinct-like certainty that if it rested on him long enough it would find a reason to bite him. And he knew, in the way only experience could teach, that if he could feel Wels, Wels could feel him. Helsknight had the sensation of walking a tightrope: his body insisted speed was the only thing that could save him, while his mind insisted he must stay unnoticed. He must balance necessity with making his thoughts and emotions small, and it was hard work to do when he was losing blood.

Helsknight blinked slowly, tiredly. He picked a direction and walked, a hand pressed to the wall, keeping himself upright. Wels's potion room was nearby, a borrowed half-memory informed him, he just had to get there. He searched his drifting thoughts for a poem to repeat in his head, to keep fear and uncertainty from rising. His heartbeat was quickening, a symptom of something; panic, or fear, or blood loss, or all three combined. He was fixing one of those things. He needed to carefully manage the other two, before Wels felt them. The only poem he could think of was in Middle English, and mostly gibberish to him, which told him it came from Wels's memories somewhere.

Why have ye no routhe on my child?

Have routhe on me ful of mourning;

Tak doun o rode my derworth child,

Or prik me o rode with my derling!

[Rhyming child with child was a lazy, but this was written back when one could convincingly spell "down" as "doun" so he supposed he shouldn't be overly critical. The real trick was figuring out if "derling" was supposed to mean "darling", or some other archaic word lost to time. He could only figure out so much from context clues. "Mourning" apparently transcended centuries, and that seemed fitting. Everyone knew mourning, in some form or another.]

An ache opened up beneath his clenched fist, or it had always been there, and his body was only just now reinforcing the fact that it was important. It felt like the mother of all cramps in his muscles, and he stubbornly pretended that's what it was. He needed more potassium in his diet or something, and the gods would forgive him the smear he left on the wall when he leaned on it, waiting on the intensity of his pain to ebb. The doorway he was walking towards seemed close, but also very, very far. Closing distance with it was going a lot slower than he thought it would, and it was only one short hallway. He was glad he'd decided to do this, instead of his other half-considered option of attempting to walk across hels to the Colosseum. He wouldn't have made it.

Dread pooled in his stomach. Dread, and other more physical things, like blood, probably, but he pretended the dread bit was more important. He could feel Wels pricking on his skin again, an insistent spider twitching at a breath on his web. Helsknight breathed out the steadiest breath he could manage.

More pine ne may me ben y-don

Than lete me live in sorwe and shame;

As love me bindëth to my sone,

So let us deyen bothe y-same.

[Sorwe. What medieval idiot thought "sorrow" was spelled like "sorwe"? Maybe it had something to do with inflection. Poetry was half words, half rhythm. Maybe "sorwe" was supposed to indicate they wanted the reader to pronounce "sorrow" as a single syllable, so it sounded more like "sore". That's also probably why "bothe y-same" was sitting there like word vomit. They meant "both the same", but wanted it read without a pause between the first two words. It was really the method for the madness that mattered with poetry.]

Helsknight blinked. He was in the potion room. He couldn't fully remember the walk down the hallway, but that didn't matter. What mattered was there should be health potions in here somewhere, his salvation. Relief edged his vision in stars, and he once again felt Wels's attention cant in his direction, confused and curious. Wels didn't associate feelings of relief with Helsknight. It wasn't an emotion they felt in each other's presence, and it was far too strong to be muffled by the distance to hels.

[He knows I'm here.]

Helsknight opened a chest and rifled through it. His vision was protesting. Stars and tilting that would turn to spinning soon made a clutter of his eyes. It got hard to distinguish the colors of the stoppered bottles. He picked up one that felt overly warm to his cold and shaking fingers. He was pretty sure it was a health potion. It felt too hot, but he reminded himself he was cold from losing blood, so it should feel hot. Hesitantly removed his fist from where it was balled in front of his sternum, and let his eyes unfocus when he grasped the bottle's stopper. His hands were so unsteady, it took a couple tries just to grab it, and when he pulled on the cork, his fingers slipped off weakly. He tried again, eyes closed with concentration, pouring every ounce of his strength into the act of pulling a stopper out of a bottle, only for his hand to slip right off again.

Frustrated, nearing desperate, he looked down at himself for a clean place to wipe his hand on his tunic. It was a mistake. He knew it as soon as he did it. His eyes were inexorably drawn from the fabric to the poke-holes in it, to the wine-dark stain that flowed down his front and still dripped tak-tak-tak slow and inexorable onto the floor. It was a woeful amount of blood. He was honestly surprised he wasn't dead yet. Chalk it up to fortitude, and ignorance, and size. He had more blood to lose than some people did.

Helsknight's world suddenly gave an awful twist, vertigo and the crescendoing, cramping agony of his wounds, only staved off by how his now shattered ignorance, kicking him off his feet just as surely as a horse could. He slumped against the wall, and then to the floor, and the awful jarring of it hurt him worse. Half a dozen other wounds on him aired their grievances, and the big one near his sternum pushed blood onto his fist when he clutched it. Helsknight sat pinned, unable to breathe for many long seconds, feeling a bit like he'd been struck by lightning. The pain was blinding and numbing and overwhelming all at once.

Why-- have no-- have ye no-- something something...

[Words. Breathe. Think of words.]

[Gods... But it hurts......]

Why have ye no routhe on my child?

Have routhe on me ful of mourning;

[And what the hels did "routhe" mean, anyway? He knew the word "route". He knew the name "Ruth". Neither of them fit, unless his bloodless brain was missing something. There was a chance "routhe" was supposed to be read like "bothe", as a double word slurred together, but that still left "routhe the" which made less sense in context than "routhe" did.]

Right. He was supposed to be doing something other than bleeding to death on the floor. Helsknight blinked, looked down at his hand and realized the health potion he'd grabbed was gone. He must have dropped it when he slumped over. Looking around, he spotted it just to the side of his left boot, unbroken, thankfully, but it might as well be a lifetime away for all the good it did him. Helsknight knew without a shadow of a doubt he couldn't reach it. The idea of tensing his muscles and dragging himself forward to reach was exhausting, and he hurt so much he knew the movement would feel like tearing himself in half, and there were just some things a mind couldn't power through. Helsknight laughed dismally and let his head fall onto his chest. Both motions were white hot agonies, but all his pains were starting to blur together into a smear of overwhelming sensation that took thought away. It occurred to him he was breathing too fast, like he'd run too far too fast, and his fluttering heartbeat agreed.

[... It hurts...]

[Gods and saints it hurts.]

[I'm dying.]

A feeling he could only describe as doom fell on his shoulders, a cold grasp of fear that wrapped stony hands around his heart and squeezed. He'd heard of this. Never felt it himself. The utter sureness that if he didn't do something now, he would die. All the unconscious bits in his body in charge of keeping him working all unanimously agreeing they needed divine intervention, preferably right now, before they started shutting down. It wasn't something he often had occasion to feel, though he had heard people tell of it after particularly grizzly matches and bloody tournaments. Death was normally too quick in the Colosseum, or else he'd won his match, and even if he was falling to pieces there was a health potion too close to hand to let him dwell on his harms. This was so terribly different. Death stalked toward him unhurried and unbothered, waiting on him to finish drowning in blood. He might panic, if he wasn't already so cold and scared.

"Ah. This makes some sense, anyway."

Helsknight, who had stopped seeing the world in front of himself without really closing his eyes, refocused his vision on the open doorway. Wels stood there, an angel of death in azure and silver, his sword in his hand. His eyes were the ruthless blue of hels freezing over and lifeless corpses, and Helsknight thought there was no one else in the world he would rather not watch him die. But the universe hated him, so here Wels was, just as surely as if he was fated.

"I didn't think all that fear could possibly be for me."

Helsknight tried to reply, but all he managed was a dying-animal noise that strangled itself out when he tried to breathe a little steadier. He tried again, and this time managed a very weak, but vaguely defiant, "Fuck off."

"Rude," Wels said chastisingly. A glow of something like smug satisfaction prickled Helsknight's skin. The feeling came from Wels. "Especially given I'm the only person who can save you."

Helsknight chuckled, and then stopped when his body seized painfully around the motion. "We both know you don't want to save me."

"No," Wels admitted. "But I don't want to do a lot of unpleasant things I agree to do anyway."

"How... charitable."

"It is a virtue."

"Sure."

Wels didn't move. Well, he did move, but only to sheath his sword. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, the image of patience, as though they had all the time in the world.

[Hungry spider. Waiting on a web for something to struggle.]

"If you're waiting on me to beg," Helsknight informed him through staggering breaths, "I won't."

"Too prideful?"

Helsknight searched himself momentarily for pride, and came up short. Pride would've dictated he die in the alley, instead of here where Wels could lord it over him. This was something different than pride.

"No."

"Then why not?" Wels asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's easy. Just say, 'Welsknight, please give me a health potion'. Or if you're feeling monosyllabic, just 'please' will work."

Helsknight managed a smirk. "Why not help me out of the kindness of your heart?"

"I don't have any kindness for people like you."

[People like you. What a loaded phrase.]

Have ye no routhe on my child?

There was an entire philosophical debate that could happen in the phrase 'people like you' that Helsknight had neither the time or the energy to bother with. Besides, it was all words Wels knew. Wels pretended to be a chivalric knight. Chivalric knights helped the weak. Chivalric knights saved the defenseless. Helsknight, for all the grievances of his existence, was both right now. Then again, the chivalric knights were also supposed to make war against their enemies mercilessly, so he supposed Wels would be in his rights, as a chivalric knight, to walk away and let him die slowly and painfully on the ground.

As if sensing his thoughts, and likely because he could actually sense his thoughts a bit, Wels said, "You are always going on about how I need to be a better knight. There's something ironic here. No matter what I decide, I think you'll owe me an apology regardless."

The feeling of doom, of bone-deep, agonizing dying mantled over Helsknight again and Wels stopped existing to him. His sense of urgency, of desperation to live clawed its way up his throat. He tried to move his arm, his leg. He got his fingers to twitch. He tried to lean forward, to drag himself with willpower alone towards that stupid potion just out of reach. The potion he wasn't even strong enough to open. His vision collapsed in quickly, and he only knew he'd cried out because he was breathless. But he hadn't moved, besides managing to lull his head forward onto his chest again. Cold fear crawled around in his empty guts, a relentless, caged animal that refused to stop squirming.

[I'm dying.]

[Breathe.]

[I'm dying.]

A shadow fell over him, a presence freighted with hate, and deserving, and dissonant guilt. Wels had come forward, only to stop short when Helsknight's terror swept over him like a wave, and he stood baffled by it, and guilty for it. The fool knight probably thought Helsknight was scared of him. If only. Helsknight thought he would prefer that. At least then he could manage to die gracefully. Wels's fortitude bricked itself up against him then, a bitter soul trying to will itself to be cold and cruel, and Helsknight was thankful for it. It staved off his fear, if only a little.

"What did you do to bring this on, anyway?" Wels asked breathlessly, trying to recover his resolve. Looking for a reason to hate him.

"I was... walking home."

"That's it?" He sounded so skeptical, it was almost funny.

"I committed the terrible sin..." Helsknight laughed out a breath, "... of being fearless when I should have been cautious."

"Hubris."

"Habit."

"Yeah right."

"If I got stabbed like this every day, I wouldn't have come crawling here."

Wels glowered, parsing this statement for truth. Helsknight might have mustered some hate in him for it, if he wasn't so scared. His vision had taken on a permanent blur, and he was getting cold. He hadn't gone numb yet, which was something he found profoundly cruel. He wanted to be numb. To stop hurting. To stop fearing.

[Breathe.]

Why have ye no routhe on my child?

Have routhe on me ful of mourning;

Tak doun o rode my derworth child,

Or prik me o rode with my derling!

[Derworth... "Dearworth", probably. Beloved. So "derling" was probably "dearling", which turned into "darling". Middle English was strange. Just slightly to the left of normal. He didn't think "tak" was a word anymore, except where it existed as pieces of words. "Tak" to "take", to take hold, maintain, maybe. "Tak" to "tack" like a nail. "Prik" also, like "pricking" flesh, like a point digging.]

"Hold down the road, my dearworth child," Helsknight muttered. "Or pick me a road with my darling."

"What?"

"Stupid poem."

"How much blood have you lost?"

Helsknight laughed, and his whole body flinched, and for a moment he couldn't breathe because his pain was so alive and electric it almost stopped being pain. The concern from Wels was laughable. He wished Wels would make up his mind about whether or not he cared. Then he could get on with dying, and the terror would stop, and the universe would take him or it wouldn't, and if it didn't, he would respawn and sleep for a week. He felt Wels's hand on his wrist, which was its own kind of hilarious.

"Trying to figure out how many heartbeats I have left?" Helsknight asked.

It would be nice to know. If Wels figured it out, he hoped he would share the information. Then Helsknight could keep count.

"Your heart's too fast."

"That happens."

Wels stood up and paced, all nervous energy, back and forth across the room.

"You don't deserve my help," Wels told him scathingly, angry for how conflicted he felt. "You don't. You've been nothing but cruel ever since we met."

More pine ne may me ben y-don

Than lete me live in sorwe and shame;

["Pine", like pining. Or pain. More pain? Punishment maybe. "Don" to done. Something like: More pain to me could not be done than to let me live in sorrow and shame.]

Helsknight decided whoever wrote this poem had never been stabbed. He'd felt both sorrow and shame, and neither of them packed quite this amount of punch, in his opinion.

"It probably goes against my tenets anyway," Wels continued, still pacing. "And yours too. Aren't you the one who follows some crazy death god?"

"... Saint... of Blood and Steel."

"He probably thinks dying in a puddle on my floor is glorious."

"... they."

As love me bindëth to my sone,

So let us deyen bothe y-same.

[Maybe he was just getting better at this, or maybe this part was just easy. "As love I'm bound to my son, so let us die, both the same." It didn't flow very neatly when it was simpler. Maybe Middle English wasn't that stupid.]

"I can't help but think you did this on purpose to... I don't know. Test me somehow. Prove you're better. Weak again, Welsknight! For helping your enemy when you should have let him die, or speed him along. Don't you know knights are supposed to be cruel?"

Helsknight tried to call up his own tenets, or Wels's tenets, or anything to do with knights and their duties. He got a little lost on his way, his thoughts meandering and dying, and gasping back to life again when they remembered they were supposed to be searching for something. Something he was scared of. Dying. A wave of fear crashing over him that made Wels flinch, and bid Helsknight keep breathing, because any agony was worth not confronting that one, great, crippling unknown.

"What would you do in my place?" Wels asked him suddenly. "Answer me that, perfect knight. What would you do if the person you hated most showed up one day bleeding on your floor?"

That... was an excellent question. Helsknight searched briefly for the answer, and found it wasn't very hard to find.

"I would help."

"You're lying," Wels said guardedly.

"I... can't lie."

"Then you're dodging the truth. What would you do?"

"I would heal you if I could. Or I would kill you if I couldn't." With strength he didn't know he even still had, Helsknight leaned his head back against the wall. It was easier to breathe that way. To talk.

"Why?"

"No creature is deserving of dishonor or pain."

"That's not a tenet."

"It's not a chivalric tenet." Helsknight shrugged one shoulder weakly. "Chivalry states you can hang my guts from the ceiling if I'm your enemy."

"It does not."

"It might as well."

Wels didn't seem to have a ready reply for that.

"What is routhe?"

Wels blinked down at him, guarded and confused. "Routhe?"

"Routhe." Helsknight repeated, as though it were helpful. "Middle English."

"As in?"

"Poetry."

"Use it in a sentence."

"Why have ye no routhe on my child?"

"Ruth." Wels said, a bit too quickly, like he'd known what Helsknight was asking and was trying to avoid the answer. "We don't use it as ruth anymore. It shows up in rue, like regret, or sorrow. And... ruthless."

"Merciless."

"Yes."

Why have you no mercy on my child?

"Why are you asking about Middle English while you're bleeding to death on my floor?"

Helsknight let out a breath. It hurt, but everything did. "Stupid poem."

"Can I hear it?"

"I'm busy bleeding to death on your floor."

"Tell me and I'll heal you."

There it was again, asking for an excuse. That was Wels's real cowardice, his failing as a knight. He was scared of making decisions. Scared of dealing with the consequences of his actions. Paralyzed by indecision. He wanted to hate Helsknight because it was justified. He wanted to watch him suffer, because hatred allows suffering. He didn't want to label himself cruel, nor be accused of weakness, or softheartedness, if he showed mercy. And he didn't want to pick up his sword and kill, if it meant killing someone defenseless. He wanted Helsknight to give him a reason to act, so he could blame it on him later if it turned out wrong. Given it would likely be Helsknight rubbing his nose in it later if it was wrong, he couldn't really blame him for that.

Helsknight closed his eyes and counted his heartbeats, and pretended he wasn't scared.

"Do what you will."

An hour long minute ticked by. Helsknight felt the time moving like it was physical, like he was falling through it and he couldn't catch himself, and he was nearing his limits. He thought the only thing stopping him from begging for it all to stop was the crushing weight of his fatigue, the exponential strength it took to take his next breath, and that stupid poem, skipping in a circle in his head. It kept his thoughts away from his fear, from bearing the weight of the unknown that came next. It was still there, a nameless, formless anxiety that formed the undercurrent of his thoughts. But he didn't have to think about it when he was busy being annoyed about a poem stuck in his head.

Wels moved. He stooped to pick up the potion Helsknight had dropped and unstoppered it deftly. He was surprisingly gentle as he helped him drink, aware that every movement could cause pain. Helsknight could feel Wels's caution in the air like wings, like a bird hovering before it lands. The first potion wasn't enough to heal him completely, so he got a second from his chests and helped him with that as well, one hand hovering over Helsknight's wounds, waiting on the skin to knit back together. Helsknight got to his feet, shaky, and feeling like he'd been wrung dry of all vitality. There was no pain to speak of, but he was thirsty, and hungry, and exhausted.

"You should rest before you go anywhere," Wels said, words of pragmatic care that sounded stilted coming from him. "I can get you some water."

"I'll be fine," Helsknight told him, allowing himself some hesitant pride now that the smothering pain was gone. Even exhausted, he could think so much more clearly now -- think at all, really. And he thought the longer he stayed here, the higher the chance Wels would come to regret his decision to heal him. They were not made to like each other. They didn't even respect each other as enemies. And Helsknight knew if they fought now, he would lose, and he might lose very badly, if Wels decided to leave him to bleed out again. It was something Wels had never done before, but if he could convince himself Helsknight deserved it, he would.

"Do what you will, then," Wels said, bitterness creeping into his tone. He probably thought he was being coy and ironic. Helsknight mostly thought it was annoying.

"The poem isn't mine," Helsknight said. "It's one you've read before. Middle English. Why have ye no routhe on my child. I don't know the title. It might just be the first line. I think it's a lament."

"... I see."

"Next time you find yourself bleeding out on someone's floor," Helsknight snorted, "Pick something stupid like that. It makes things... manageable."

"Right... manageable."

Helsknight gave a helpless sort of shrug, as though what he'd just said were perfectly normal.

Wels mustered an enviable facsimile of concern when he said, "I've never felt terror like that before."

Helsknight felt his already parched mouth somehow go drier. The sympathy he felt rolling off of Welsknight was sickening. Literally. He could feel himself becoming nauseous.

"What are you so scared of?"

Shame, red hot and searing, clawed at the inside of Helsknight's ribs. He wished so badly he could hide it. Distract himself from it. At least turn it into anger. But he was tired, and he didn't know how to bring his emotions back to heel, and Welsknight was already giving him an open, piteous look like maybe they'd stumbled onto something significant. He could feel hope there, like maybe there was a reason they hated each other like they did, and if Wels could figure out where that fear came from, they could find common ground -- or at least the leverage Wels needed to make Helsknight relent.

"I don't need your pity, white knight," Helsknight snarled. "Go sate your savior complex somewhere else."

Wels scowled. A cold wall of loathing, resigned and inevitable, closed itself around anything else he could possibly feel.

[As it should be.]

Hours later, home and safe, Helsknight cracked open his journal and wrote:

Why have you no mercy on my child?

Have mercy on me, so full of mourning;

Take down the road my dearworth child,

O give me a road with my darling!

More pain to me could not be done

Than to let me live in sorrow and shame

As with love I am bound to my son,

So let us die then, both the same.

307 notes · View notes

immoralkombat · 8 months

Text

feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

#johnshi #johnny cage x kenshi #johnny x kenshi #kenshi x johnny #kenshi x johnny cage #johnny cage #kenshi #kenshi takahashi #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 spoilers #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 spoilers #mortal kombat #this was also posted to my ao3 but i'm keeping works limited to registered users only bc. protecting my works and whatnot!#cross posted on ao3 #immoralkombat.exe

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bunny-xoxo · 7 months

Text

Take It Slow

MINORS DNI

Yuuta Okkotsu x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): established relationship, friends to lovers implied, heavy petting, fingering, masturbation, oral (reader receiving), choking (reader receiving), instance of breath play as a result, slight corruption kink from Yuuta, inexperienced reader, a single instance of slightly mean Yuuta, reader’s chest anatomy is not referenced/described

a/n: first NSFW piece in a VERY long time, was picked from the poll so here you go! hope you all enjoy :)! Also jus wanna say there is NOTHING weird or wrong about being a virgin at any age just so you guys know <33 🫶 also in case it needs to be said, this is an unrealistic portrayal of participating in kink for the first time! Boundaries and safety should be discussed at length before these things, but this is fiction so just wanted to make that clear 😭🤍 anyways enjoy <3

“Yuuta, stop! I don’t wanna talk about it!�� You whined and buried your face further into his chest hoping to spare yourself of the embarrassment from the conversation you’re sure the two of you are about to have.

“Sweetheart, I’m your boyfriend, you knew it was gonna come up sooner or later. Besides, you’re literally the one who started the conversation! There’s no way you’re getting out of it now.” He let out a few boyish chuckles as he tried to pry your face away from him and out of the covers, just to see you pressing your lips together and closing your eyes in protest.

Sure, did you figure at some point the fact you haven’t gone farther than holding hands and sharing a few quick pecks was gonna be brought up? Probably. Especially after 4 whole months of being in a relationship? Maybe. Did you think it’d be right now? No! But is it your fault? Unfortunately, yes.

You’d known Yuuta long before the two of you started dating, having been apart of his friend group since freshman year of high school, and you’ve always had a secret crush on your friend. He was kind, never failed to make you smile, charmingly awkward (so charming you almost thought he faked it), & all things endearing. It wasn’t until a few months ago, now in your fourth and final year at University, that the two of you had confessed your feelings for the other. You had a bottle of tequila and Maki to thank for that.

And honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect since. He was still sweeter than ever, a complete gentleman always, and even though it’d only been a couple months he’s never failed to make you constantly feel cared for and appreciated. There was only one problem: how were you supposed to tell him you’ve lied about every instance of you hooking up ever? And you haven’t even done so much as grind on someone, let alone fuck?

Maybe you could blame it on Yuuji, he’s the one who brought it up the first time anyways, innocently teasing you about how “you probably don’t even know how to give head”. He was 16, and all 16 year old boys are stupid as shit - besides Yuuta you suppose - so you’ll forgive him for it.

“Fuck you Yuuji, you’re just saying that cause you’re embarrassed you can’t last longer than 10 seconds inside a girl.”

“That literally happened once, and it was my first time! What, you’re telling me your first time was any better?”

It was just humiliating to think of looking at your friends, who definitely weren’t virgins anymore (besides Toge, maybe Toge, you never really trusted his whole story - but that’s beside the point), and tell them yeah no, I haven’t even seen a dick in person!

“No, he was ass, too.” You did your best to not draw attention to the way your palms were sweating profusely, fighting every instinct in you to wipe them off on the denim of your jeans.

“Yep, fits the bill.” Mai rolled her eyes at the thought of her own experience with a man, must’ve been pretty bad.

It’d make more sense to blame it on your age than Yuuji really, looking back it wouldn’t have been embarrassing for more than a couple weeks at most to have admitted you were a virgin when the matter was pressed. But that’s not what past you thought, and now it’s current you’s problem.

“I know, I know, but now I change my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Your lips are pushed out and puckered slightly from the way Yuuta has your cheeks squished together - his best effort at making you smile right now.

He lets go of your cheeks to squeeze your shoulder gently, looking at your face for a moment before speaking softly.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’d never judge you for anything, make comments, nothing. Swear on it.” His voice dipped low with sincerity as he dramatically “crossed his heart and hoped to die”, it was a little goofy but that’s okay.

It was hard to speak while he was staring down at you like that, you knew he’d be nothing but gentle and kind, but the thought of actually talking about it made your stomach twist ‘n turn.

“Uh”, your voice trembled more than you’d like to admit and it did nothing to help your nerves, “I guess I asked what you’d do if I lied about not being a virgin cause, I’m, like, a virgin. Yeah.” You might’ve stumbled through your sentence, but you got there eventually.

His hand continued to rub circles on your skin as he spoke, “Well, I kind of figured that much when you first asked that, cause why else would you. Is that all you wanted to tell me though?”

Glancing up to meet his eyes, you were confused, visibly confused. Was that it? Was he really not gonna pester about why you lied, when you lied, or why you’re grown and still a virgin?

You squinted your eyes and hummed quietly, unreasonably suspicious of him - which he could clearly see.

Rolling his eyes playfully, he groaned out your name and pulled your face close to his so you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to.

“Ya know, I was kind of talking about the first question you asked me. The one before you cut me off and changed the subject with the whole ‘I’m a virgin thing.’ I want to talk to you about that.”

You’re sure you were listening, it’s just that his face was so close to you that his breath was intermingling with yours, and you could practically taste the gum he was chewing while studying earlier. Not only that but his eyelashes were so pretty and doll like from this angle, looking up at him with his hands still on your cheeks. And his hands were so warm and soft - or was your face warm?

“Are you really ignoring me right now?” He wondered where your mind wandered to, cause clearly with the way you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes and invisible stars circling around your head - you couldn’t have been listening to him.

“Huh?”

Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening to him.

“Baby, are you okay with talking about what you asked me earlier? It’s okay if the answer is no.” His eyes were glued to your face as your own darted around the room.

You wanted to speak up but your throat was dry and your face was hot, and honestly it felt like your jaw was wired shut; a simple nod will have to do.

It felt like the room was getting smaller at the lack of a response from Yuuta until you felt him lean just a tad closer and gently press his lips to your cheek, “would you rather me show you how I take care of myself, or tell you?”

Oh.

Goosebumps rose along the back of your neck and down your arms at the soft volume of his voice in your ear and the way his breath fanned across your cheek.

“Both, please.” The tenor of your voice matched his as your hands fiddled nervously with the hem of your shirt, unsure what to with them while he moved to give you a kiss and sit up in front you.

The embarrassment of how you asked Yuuta how to give a hand job from earlier began to fade and be replaced with curiosity and eagerness at the sight of Yuuta reaching down to palm at himself.

It was still embarrassing, staring so shamelessly at his growing bulge in obvious intrigue and desire, but it was Yuuta, and Yuuta would never make you feel bad for having human urges and wanting him in this way.

Hesitantly, once he was ready, he tugged at the fabric of his pajama pants until he was fully exposed. He was happy you were so needy and awe struck at the sight of him, because your undivided attention to the way his cock sits in his hand is making him blush.

He spreads his legs just as much as the stretch of his bottoms let him while he dips forward to drip spit in the direction of his lap, his wrist catching the fabric of his shirt and exposing a tease of his lower stomach as he spreads the spit along the length of his cock. Leaning back into a more comfortable position, you take in the way he’s exposed himself to you, his stomach visibly clenching as he rubs his thumb along the slit at the tip of his cock.

It was firm in his hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together from where you sat watching at the vulgarity of it all. His loud and unashamed whimpering, his leaking and twitchy cock, and the way his eyes were never closed, always watching your face, when you would flick your own up to get a peek at his reactions.

You thought maybe he’d be a little more bashful, slow and careful with what he wanted to show you, but if anything, it seems like he’s been waiting for you to ask.

“You like watching me stroke my cock, hm baby?”

Your clit began to throb at the sudden recognition and reminder that you’re involved just as much as he is, as well as the sound of him speaking, and speaking directly at you.

“Answer me angel, even a nod’s okay. Wanna make sure my baby’s feeling good.” His voice was hoarse, but soft, and the sentiment did nothing more than increase your arousal and send butterflies rampant in your stomach.

Settling further into the situation, and gaining some confidence in return, you make your way over to him slowly as you nod your head.

“Want you to tell me, Yuuta.” Your voice is small, quiet.

“Tell you what, pretty?”

He’s got an air of fake innocence around him as he speaks but you couldn’t care less when you’re so close that you can hear his soft and barely audible panting, and smell the light scent of musk and sweat begin to gather along his clothed skin from his excitement and exertion. You’d give him anything he wants at this point, and you’re certain he knows it.

“Yuuta,”, you whine and move in his direction, hovering over his lap with his cock not quite close enough to press against your covered cunt as he strokes himself, “want you to tell me how it feels.”

The pair of you groan together at the lewdness of it all, both of you reveling in the freedom to finally explore your deep attraction for another, no longer embarrassed or fearful to admit or indulge in it.

“Fuck, feels so good baby. ‘M so hard with you watching me like this. You like knowing you’ve got me and my cock this needy without even touching me?” Whining at his response, you lean into him and sloppily place your lips on his, ignoring the urge to smack him on his chest as he chuckles a, “yeah?”, into your mouth at your eagerness.

You both kiss, messy and loud, as you reach and drag your hand down his torso, lightly drawing circles onto Yuuta’s exposed lower stomach with your fingertips.

A strained groan comes from him at the sensation, sighing into your mouth as he sits up to be impossibly closer to you. It was all too much.

He could feel the heat from your body as your thighs squeeze him from each side, hear the crude noises your pussy makes each time you adjust, and he could just imagine how needy your poor cunt would smell. Feeling his stomach tighten and his head get cloudy, he knew he was close, and he wanted you to watch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come baby.” Yuuta’s lips were soft and slick with spit as he spoke against yours, while you felt a hand slide from the back of your neck up to the top of your head, turning you to face down and stare at the way his fist was feverishly tugging at his cock.

“Want my sweetheart to watch how hard they’re gonna make me come, how good they’re taking care of me and my cock.” His voice was strained and low, out of breath, and if you weren’t desperate to watch his cock get some release, you would have protested at the sudden lack of kissing.

“Please, need you to show me baby.” You whined and wrapped your hand around Yuuta’s wrist gently, moving in time with the way he was stroking himself.

Hearing your voice was all he needed to let himself go, throwing his head back and getting his sternum sticky with cum as it stained his t-shirt. His balls and cock twitched as he slowed down his movements, whining when he rubs the tip once more, not wanting it to be over. If it wasn’t for the way you were still hovering over his lap, he would’ve let himself stay like this for a while longer, catching his breath and resting his eyes.

But he could see how bad you needed him, your chest heaving and your body hot against his.

Pulling you into his chest, he speaks against your shoulder softly between gentle kisses, “Want me to take care of you too, baby?”

Your body jolts at the prospect, nerves riddling your muscles and your stomach, making you feel almost weak. The thought made you self-conscious just as much as it made you feel exhilarated, but you couldn’t deny the way your cunt was throbbing and hot. You needed him bad, and you could trust Yuuta. You always could.

Words were too hard, like they often were with him in intimate moments like this (the thought of your first date briefly crosses your mind), so you substitute a pleading “yes” for another messy, longing kiss.

“I got you angel,”, was all he said before you were leaned back on the pillows, Yuuta hovering above you with soft wisps of his hair tickling the sides of your face.

You knew you could trust Yuuta, he always knows what his baby needs.

Delicate fingers graze across your side until they reach the waist band of your bottoms, running back and forth along the top as Yuuta chuckles softly at the way your stomach twitches, waiting for a sign of permission.

A warm hand tugging Yuuta’s in the direction of your heat is all he needs before sliding his hand between your thighs to rub heavy and slow circles onto your clit beneath your shorts.

“Oh, god.” You breathe out and close your eyes, letting him take his time in making you feel good.

Your hole ached every time he dipped a finger down to tease your entrance, gathering more of your arousal to rub into your puffy clit. He was such a tease even when he didn’t mean to be, couldn’t he tell you needed him inside? Can’t he imagine how empty your poor hole feels? Doesn’t he know how often you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers or favorite toy, imagining it’s really him inside instead?

“Yuuta.”

The desperate call of his name makes his stomach flip, eyes quickly searching across your face for a sign of discomfort, “‘M here baby, what do you need?”

Sitting up slowly, your face stops inches from his as you shimmy your way out of your bottoms. Laying back down, you open your legs wide and spread your pussy for Yuuta to see, another hand rubbing at your clit slowly.

“‘S too empty, baby.” You fight back the hot wave of embarrassment that floods your body at your crudeness and use all your will power to stay still, cunt on full display, as you watch Yuuta’s breath quicken and his hand snake down to tug at his cock again despite the slight sensitivity he’s still feeling.

He doesn’t give you much time to linger on your sheepishness before you’re tugged further down the bed by the grip he takes on both of your thighs, his tongue impatiently shoved into your mouth with a loud whimper. You both stay like this a little while longer than you would have liked, his tongue running along the inside of your mouth before he has yours between his lips, switching between sucking on it loudly and licking at the saliva that drips down onto your chin.

God, he was so dirty.

Unable to beg for more, you attempt to wrap your legs up and around his midsection, hoping he’ll catch the hint, but instead you’re stopped by a firm placement of his hand on your inner thigh.

“‘Scuse me, beautiful.” His voice is hoarser than before as he speaks softly against your neck, leaving hasty kisses on any exposed skin while scooting down the bed, landing with his face between your legs.

You could have cried when you felt his tongue poke and prod at your hole, pushing in and moaning loudly before licking long and slow up to your clit. His tongue flicks back and forth as he keeps your lips spread with one hand, deciding to then take his time licking and dragging his tongue between every fold before coming back to suck on your clit.

A strangled groan vibrates deep within your chest as you tug on his hair to bring him impossibly closer to your cunt, as if he needed to devour you whole, while you no longer fought the way your hips were grinding down and writhing beneath Yuuta’s grip. It’s not until you finally feel a finger push inside, slender and slow, that you begin to incoherently beg and whine for more.

It doesn’t take many half-spoken pleas for him to get the idea you need more.

“Ah, Yuuta!” You whimper and internally battle between trying to squirm away and press yourself even further into his mouth, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his two fingers inside pumping in and out of you with his mouth nipping and sucking at your clit.

He sits up, kneeling between you to watch the way you take what he’s giving you.

“Yeah?”, his voice is uncharacteristically cocky and out of breath, “Feels good, baby?”

He was going to be the death of you.

If it wasn’t for the way Yuuta was placed between your thighs, your efforts to clamp them shut would be working. It was all too much, but so fucking good.

“Ah- fuck, oh, oh my god - Yuuta please make me come. Wanna come so bad!” You arch your back and attempt to sit up to reach him, needing him closer, but a hand on your chest pushes you back down and slides up until it rests wrapped around your throat.

“Mmm, I’ll give it to you baby, just want you stay right there. Wanna see what you look like when I make you finish for the first time.” His hand wasn’t holding tight, it was merely keeping you in your spot beneath him, but you wanted him to grab you tighter.

With a shaky hand, you reached to hold onto his wrist like your life depended on it,

“Please choke me.”

His fingers stopped curling into you for maybe a second before he continued, his mouth parting slightly as a gentle moan fell from his lips.

Did you really just ask him that?

You closed your eyes in bliss when he squeezed gently, instinctually doing your best to grind down onto his hand, but it wasn’t enough.

“T-tighter, please.”

It took everything in you to open your eyes and see his reaction, a slight amount of shame building up in your stomach for requesting something that felt so dirty - but all embarrassment fizzled out where it sat when you saw the way he was staring down at you.

Nothing was said as he squeezed you tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Tap me twice if it’s too much.” You’re not sure when he leaned down to speak lowly to you, but his breath fanning across the side of your neck and face sends chills down your body.

You’re so lost in the pleasure of it all you can only nod when he takes your hand to show you exactly how he wants you to tap against his wrist if you can’t take it anymore.

He sits back up and smiles to himself as he takes you in. You look so.. so.. so pathetic like this. And what, all because he’s got two of his fingers fucking your pussy? Cause he’s the first person to ever make you feel this way?

The latter thought makes his dick twitch and pick up the pace of his fingers until even you can register the crude squelching coming from between your thighs. Thankfully for you, you’re too full of bliss to care - fuck you were so close, and he knows it, too.

Your eyes shoot open when his grip is tightened even more, making it so you can only take in shallow and shaky breaths.

“Gonna have to come around my fingers if you want me to loosen up.” It wasn’t a question of how much you could take, it was a matter of how far you wanted him to go to make you see stars. And apparently this was it with the way he could feel you clench around him at his words, your thighs starting to thrash and shake.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty. My dirty little cunt, huh?” His voice was so misleadingly soft. His register was still high, slightly whiny, but you knew it was all to mock you and your fucked out state. If anything, Yuuta was the one being so dirty, and you were thankful for it.

It was hot, so hot, and you could hear your heart pounding in your head, and you could feel how tight you were clenching around his fingers.

Unable to fight off the feeling and attempt to last a second longer, your body shook as you came hard around Yuuta’s fingers, your nails digging into the forearm of the hand still wrapped around your throat. He kept it there for a brief few moments into your orgasm before letting go to immediately bring his fingers down to your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm for as long as you could handle.

The first full breath you took was loud and followed by an even louder mantra of thank you’s and please’s. It took a soft and slow kiss from Yuuta to quiet your whimpers, and warm, and undeniably semi-sticky hands, rubbing tenderly into your thighs and arms.

You both stayed like that for a while, Yuuta above you with his hands rubbing your muscles carefully, kissing slow and catching your breath while sharing gentle sentiments of love and reassurance. Much to your surprise, you were the first to speak a full sentence as you both relaxed into a more comfortable position.

“Ya know”, your voice had a slight hoarseness to it now, most likely from your earlier activities, “I don’t think I like knowing someone else has gotten to see you like this.”

He brings his head up to rest on his palm with a crooked smile, leaning forward until his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke,

“Yeah? You the jealous type baby?”

This time, you did smack him. And hard.

“Ow?” Yuuta pouts, pretending to be appalled, and rubs circles into his chest as if you had actually smacked him hard enough to feel like anything more than a friendly pat.

His request for an apology is brushed off and amended with a kiss, from which you receive no protest, as you sink further into the comfort of his embrace and, now dirty but once very clean, sheets.

“How about we clean up n get some rest, okay baby?” He sounds distant and quiet when he speaks, his heartbeat louder in your ears than his voice with your head pressed into his chest.

Sighing and shaking his head, he leans down to kiss the top of your head with a small smile. Laundry and a shower can wait a few more minutes if it means he gets to have you like this for even a little bit longer.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @alert-arlert (I think you asked to be tagged in this??? If not I’m sorry !! This was like a literal year ago I started this so 😭🫶) @touyaz (only cause you liked the snippet 🤭) if you’d like to be added just lemme know!!

#tw choking #tw breath play #jjk smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu smut

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mins-fins · 1 month

Text

OH FUCK YOU CUPID! [PREVIEW].

❝may the best man win!❞

SYNOPSIS: where resident "cupid" zhong chenle wants to cause mayhem, and maybe start a fight too, so he sets up three of the most competitive guys he knows with none other than you. now— they are at each other's throat trying to get your attention, and also score a date with you.

PAIRING: lee jeno, lee donghyuck, & na jaemin x male!reader

GENRE: university au, romantic comedy, sort of matchmaker au??, actually theres angst too, three stubborn boys fight over a very confused one, 00z (besides renjun) going insane over a MAN

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, unrealistic romantic situations, childish behavior, somewhat possessive behavior, mentions of sex but no smut, mentions of drinking, an abuse of italics, lots of date crashing

WORD COUNT: 1.5k (preview) | est. 12k–15k (full fic)

NOTES: if you can forgive me for not updating for like two days, take this as my little apology 🙁 yeah so this spawned out of ANOTHER draft i began that hasn't been touched since december, but i reread it and i just sort of changed up the synopsis and love interests!! yeah anyway this is isa's multi-pairing debut, but this is also only a preview, the real thing is much more messy! i can't promise WHEN it's going to come out because i genuinely do have a lot going on.. but it is halfway done! um yeah tysm for waiting for me!! alright bye😖

YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN CONFUSED LIKE YOU ARE NOW. when you heard a knock on your door, accompanied by the sound of two muffled voices bickering behind it, you expected it to be one of your classmates, chenle and jisung coming to ask for another stupid favor, or your lab partner coming to get extra notes for your project. you usually don't let people into your dorm after six pm, mostly because after six pm is time you spend strictly studying, and you do not need distractions when you're gonna be up all night losing sleep.

but no, none of that, you guess you aren't that good at predicting your fate.

when you open the door, rubbing your eyes, which hurt from the hours you spent staring down several biology papers, you pause at the sight before you.

there are three boys there, two of them going back and forth whilst one stands silent between them. their arguing must distract them enough that they don't notice you standing in the doorway, staring at the two of them like they're crazy.

"um".

why do you say um? maybe the general confusion of the situation is what makes your brain short circuit in that very moment, but you don't exactly have any actual words you can say. there is no reason these three very attractive guys should be at your doorstep at this time.

as quickly as you utter that word, you regret it, because the two formerly bickering guys turn their heads right towards you, gazes focused on you and only you.

suddenly, it feels like all of your senses heighten, your hands become sweaty, your breathing seems to become louder, and your face heats up to the point that your sure steam is going to start pouring out of your ears.

of course, you recognize the three at your doorstep, but the situation still doesn't click for you.

on the left is na jaemin, resident pretty boy na jaemin, the two of you had a political science together in your sophomore year, and while he did always seem to want to be more than friends, you chalked that up to his habit of looking like he's in love with all of his friends. his flirtatious words and romantic references never meant anything to you, because he's like that with every other pretty guy that goes to your school.

in the middle is lee jeno, class crush lee jeno, you know him because of a get together renjun forced the two of you to be apart of way back in your freshmen year, and while jeno is nothing short of beautiful, he's nothing like jaemin. jeno is less obvious in the romantic department, of course he has so many people falling at his feet, and you can't blame them. he's gorgeous, a true work of art, and the two of you have been told on certain occasions that you'd be a great couple, but nothing ever seemed to come out of that.

and on the right, lee donghyuck, star student lee donghyuck, always the top student, always wins the awards, you unfortunately know him the best out of the three, considering the two of you spent all summer together. it didn't go as well as you wanted it to, some things happened between the two of you that you don't feel like explaining right now. you haven't had a genuine talk since school began, both of you trying hard to erase that little summer fling away from your minds. you think he might be a little insane, much too smart for everyone's own good, but you can't look past his ethereal beauty either.

so what are these three doing on your doorstep on a school night?

before you can ask that exact question, donghyuck answers it for you.

"i'm here to take you out on a date".

you almost collapse onto the floor.

jaemin's eyebrows furrow, and he's quick to turn and glare at the older. "no you're not!"

"yes i am! i got here first!"

"you did not! and even if you did y/n doesn't want to go out with you—"

"i suggest you watch your tone, na".

you blink, dumbfounded at the news bestowed upon you. the two continue their back and forth argument, and your face only heats up more as it dawns on you that they're arguing about you, about taking you out on a date.

you don't know how you stand your ground.

"you too?" you barely manage the words, feeling as if you were about to pass out at any second, and you point your index finger at jeno, the most silent of the bunch.

he only nods. "i was hoping saturday..?"

"that makes no se— wait, you were hoping WHAT!?"

jaemin's screech is enough to make the once stone cold jeno flinch. a look of offense crosses the older lee's face, and any tranquility he had disappeared in an instant. "y/n and i are going out saturday".

"says who!?"

"says me?"

"he didn't even agree to your offer" donghyuck glares daggers at jeno, who imitates his gaze. he's pissed, and so is jeno, and so is jaemin, all three of them are pissed. "don't get so confident".

"it doesn't matter" jeno answers like it's a matter of a fact. "he likes me more than he does you".

"oh yeah?"

"yeah he does" jeno whispers as he leans closer to donghyuck, the words a taunting mantra to the younger, who looks seconds away from punching him. "he wouldn't go on a date with you even if you offered him a hundred dollars".

"you should really watch what you say".

"really? i'd love to see you even try and land a punc—"

"who sent you three here?"

your question is enough to get the two to stop arguing, and they slowly move away from each other. jeno pokes his tongue against the inside of cheek, and donghyuck just crosses his arms, an eye roll accompanying his action. jaemin gives the two a judgmental glance before focusing all of his attention on you again. "chenle".

"chenle?"

"well chenle told me—"

"chenle didn't tell you anything".

"how are you so sure? if i remember correctly, you said you weren't into y/n" jaemin grits his teeth, eyes pointed at donghyuck, who scoffs, humored by the words.

"since when? i'm the only one here whose ever done anything with y/n, you're too busy around with other guys and jeno's too much of a coward to confess".

"please, coward? if you're so in love with y/n maybe you should've told him that instead of ghosting him, that's pretty cowardly behavior".

you watch the three begin going back and forth, absolutely speechless. why are they fighting over you? why did chenle tell them to come here? why does this have to happen right now?

"i— um, shit uh" you awkwardly chuckle, hoping you don't sound as pathetic as you feel. "maybe we can chat about this tomorrow yeah? yeah! right, um, goodnight!"

you don't think twice before slamming the door on their faces, locking it behind you. you slide down the door and collide with the floor, face red, thoughts all over the place, and only one sentiment echoing in your mind.

you are going to murder zhong chenle.

"great job, hyuck, you scared him off".

donghyuck finds jaemin's audacity hilarious, so hilarious he even laughs. "i scared him off? if anything jeno did!"

"i didn't do anything" jeno argues, he really doesn't how the younger is speaking to him at the moment. "your just mad y/n's gonna end up going out with me instead".

"woah woah, who said that?"

"i mean.. we all know".

"whose we?" donghyuck challenges. "because, and don't take this personally, you couldn't even confess to the guy before this, what makes you think he'll want to go on a date with you?"

"you know your really getting on my nerves right now".

"okay okay you two" jaemin curses in his mind, how did he end up being the most sensible of the three? "don't start anything physical, it's y/n's choice at the end of the day.."

"which is why it's stupid of donghyuck here to think y/n wants to go anywhere with him".

donghyuck rolls his eyes again, but instead of looking at jeno this time, he looks at jaemin. "no, he's right, it's y/n's choice, and i'm gonna do everything to make sure i'm the one he's with on saturday".

"get over yourself" jeno remarks, glancing over at your door. "your not going to end up with him".

donghyuck hums, a snicker added onto it. "alright then, watch me prove you wrong".

"i'd love to see you try".

jaemin looks between the two, oh this is bad, this is very bad, but he isn't about to let them be able to take you out before him.

"may the best man win, then" jaemin gives the two overly aggressive pats on the back before turning around and walking the other way.

he doesn't care, he's getting that date.

#nct #nct dream #lee jeno #lee donghyuck #na jaemin #nct dream au #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno x male reader #haechan x reader #haechan x male reader #jaemin x reader #jaemin x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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prettymita · 9 months

Text

"jealousy"

KIM GUN-WOO - 6/10 on the jealousy scale

♡ gun-woo trusts you sooo much

♡ he knows you'd never cheat on him, so whenever you're talking to another guy, he wouldn't think much of it. he would keep an eye on you, though.

♡ it only really affects him if you start flirting with another guy. he thinks you're wayyy too good for him, even if that's not true. (no, bcuz this man only has eyes for you. he thinks you're the most beautiful girl in the universe) so when you start spending more time with another man and prioritizing them over him, he would get so sad :(

♡ poor baby wouldn't even tell you. he would try to act fine and tell himself that he was just being stupid and overthinking, he'd probably blame himself for it 😭

♡ when you start to notice how he seemed down, he would finally open up and admit that he was jealous. he's so cute i can't

♡ even if gunwoo isn't very extroverted or talkative, he's actually good at communicating his feelings with you. when he's jealous of a guy you're talking to, he would shyly pull you aside and have a conversation with you about how he felt about you hanging out with another man. "hey, can we talk?"

♡ and when you reassure him that he has nothing to worry about and shower him in kisses, he's a timid, smiling mess.

♡ he's so babygirl omlll

♡ when it comes to possessiveness, it's leaning towards less possessive. sure, if a guy is making you laugh and all, gun-woo will join the conversation, linger his hand on your back or waist innocently and pretend nothing is wrong. but he isn't too over the top, there is a healthy amount of possessiveness.

♡ he doesn't care what you wear, you are your own person, and he knows and respects that. so if you catch the gazes of men, it doesn't make him jealous. i mean, you were so beautiful, how could they not stare, right? besides, he could fight if he needed to. (he will subtly glare at a guy if their gaze gets too explorative, though. not even glare, to be honest. its more of a disappointed look LMAO)

♡ if a guy is making you uncomfortable, that's a different case.

♡ he would notice and act immediately. gunwoo doesn't like to resort to violence, even if he is mad. he would gently pull you away from the person and step in front of you, politely (but sternly) telling the guy that you weren't interested. he wouldn't pick a fight, unless the opponent swings first. even so, he'd stick to defending only, not throwing any life-threatening punches. cause damn, he is strong asf. you're kind of glad he is so non-violent and gentle bcuz if he wasn't, he might've killed someone already.

HONG WOO-JIN - 8/10 on the jealousy scale

♡ woojin does trust you, but the twisted knot in his stomach can overtake his sense of rationality sometimes

♡ he is very clingy. so if he sees you talking with another guy, he will try to join the conversation because he doesn't want to feel left out.

♡ if he's jealous, he'll often wrap an arm around your waist or sling it over your shoulder, or making it very obvious that the two of you are dating. "Oh, how's my precious girlfriend doing?" and then pecks you on the lips. its a little embarrassing sometimes but its woo-jin so its okay

♡ its funny because sometimes he completely ignores the guy's existence and continues to talk to you until you glare at him for being rude

♡ if you ignore woo-jin and continue to focus on the other guy, he will do anything to get your attention. and i mean anything. he will start telling the most unfunny jokes, physically get on the table and do something goofy to make you laugh. this man cannot be stopped.

♡ also, he will not admit that he is jealous. even if you know he is, he wouldn't say it unless you really pry at him. "Okay, fine! I'm jealous, is that what you wanted to hear?"

♡ and then he'll sulk around like a sullen puppy lmaoo

♡ so when it comes to you wearing revealing clothing, i'm sure he loves it the most, to be honest. but he's a little cautious of you wearing it outside, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. he might've tried to get you to wear something else or bring a jacket a couple times. he isn't really fond of others seeing what's his. (!!!)

♡ he's possessive, but he doesn't like to admit it. he'd rather show it through actions, being superrr clingy

♡ if a guy's staring at you and his gaze begins to wander, woo-jin will wrap a hand around you possessively. he might even snarl at the guy.

♡ if anyone makes you uncomfortable, he makes sure to get you out of there, probably threatening the guy a little. he might shove him lightly and get a little aggressive if he's really mad. then afterward, he would make sure you're okay and shit-talk about how the guy was an absolute ass.

#kim gun woo #lee sang yi #woo do hwan #hong woo jin #hong woo jin fanfiction #hong woojin x reader #kim gun woo x reader #bloodhounds fluff #bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds #bloodhounds headcannons #gun woo headcannons #woojin headcannons

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thedgeoftheuniverse · 1 year

Text

These Burdens We Carry.

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 4.9k

WARNINGS: swearing, typical tlou violence, way too much angst, plot that actually isn't plot i just like using words, poorly written light smut (MINORS DNI) oral, fem receiving, sprinkle of a praise kink, multiple orgasms. (please let me know if i forgot any!)

a/n: this is my first time writing any semblance of smut so i went very very light, pls be kind <3

gif is not mine!!!!!!

near death experiences have a way of bringing people together.

you're in need of a release and joel is happy to provide it for you.

Twenty-one years.

Twenty-one years and still, try as you might, you never got used to the smell—the stench—of death. The putrid odor of decay, one that could only come from the extinguishing of a life, no matter how rotten the soul was. Though you tried to convince yourself otherwise, tried to tell yourself that you had done this more times than you could count—how did it ever get to this?—and that at this point, there should've been nothing left in the world to rattle you, the stench always managed to find a way to offend your nasal passages and twist your gut in the cruelest of ways. The smell was the worst part about killing.

You would never be like him.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Then again, he seemed to carry so little weight on his shoulders, or maybe he had carried it for so long that the muscles in his shoulders had strengthened to accommodate the pressure—the weight of the world became a small child riding on his back, holding itself up with its legs locked around his waist, never growing in height or weight. It was a cruel metaphor, however, it made sense when looking at him and the way the muscles in his back rippled underneath his denim shirt and his arms seemed almost too big for the sleeves. A lifetime of carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man.

There was something—everything��about Joel Miller that you admired. The way his graying hair gently curled at the ends, signaling it was time for a haircut; the way his eyes told you everything his mouth couldn't say aloud; the way his rough, calloused hands held you when the night was so dark and the universe caved in on your chest, leaving you completely breathless. His emotions were long shut off—carrying the weight of the galaxy does that to a man—but there were small glimpses into the man he used to be that he saved just for you. It was enough.

Most of the time.

But, that day, you needed the Joel Miller that existed twenty-one years ago, and while he was slowly beginning to find a semblance of that man again, the real Joel Miller died a long time ago. What he had found was an echo of a distant memory that had been long snuffed out, table scraps that would be fed to the dogs. You feared it wouldn't be enough for that day. You needed more, and you didn’t know if he managed to find it. If he had, he did not make a habit of showing it to you. Maybe that was a piece he saved only for himself.

That day, the horrid scent of death meant so much more. It was supposed to be a walk in the woods. You weren't supposed to run into anyone. There shouldn't have been anyone out there, and he shouldn't have been following you, and you should've paid more attention. So many variables. So many things you wish you had done differently. It was too late when you realized your mistake, when you realized that the leaves crunching and twigs snapping behind you were something to be afraid of. You had almost forgotten what fear felt like—a long-forgotten emotion buried so deeply in the recesses of your brain. You discovered the hard way that fear was the most dangerous emotion a human could feel, far more dangerous than love could ever hope to be. Fear makes you stupid, reckless, and impulsive. Love elicited the same reaction, but at least you were fighting for something rather than against something. It's so much harder to fight for yourself.

When his fist met your temple, you saw black. The world spun around your head, and a sea of stars danced in the early morning sky. You were grabbed by hands. You weren't sure where, but you were definitely thrown to the ground. You felt a small stream of blood tickle the side of your face—how did it ever get to this?—as it ran down from a cut left behind on your brow bone. You still couldn't see. Your ears rang, your senses were failing you, and he was sitting on top of your torso.

"Well, are you a pretty thing?"

Nothing about what you did to that man was pretty.

You couldn't remember how it happened. You remembered grabbing the rock; you remembered how heavy it sat in your hand as your wrist struggled to hold the weight. Everything went red after that. Maybe it was his blood obscuring your vision, or maybe it was a twisted sense of love, of duty, of "I have to get back to him" that blinded you.

Joel would never forgive you if you didn't come back home.

When you came to, the man was unrecognizable. You gained the advantage, managed to climb on top of him. His brain and fragments of his were scattered across the rock, and his head was caved in. The Infected would have been kinder to him. He didn't deserve that kindness. Your hands were shaking and stained crimson, as was your face. It felt like you were dying. Your chest was caving in—how did it ever get to this?—the trees surrounding you were uprooting, and the sky was falling down in a thousand pieces all around you. Killing up close was never a strong point for you. The smell, the blood, the emptiness of their eyes—he had no eyes left. You weren't sure how long you stayed on top of the man, but rigor mortis took hold of his lifeless body before you found the will to move.

When did you become so ruthless?

You had no control as your feet carried you. Left, right, left, right, until you found yourself by a stream. You didn't notice Joel on the other side, but he noticed you. He always saw you. You always found your way back to him.

He often went to that stream. It was a short walk from Jackson, one well worth the peace of mind that he found in the way the water flowed. He enjoyed stacking the rocks that lived beneath the water, which were eroded by years of ripples, leaving them smooth and slick to the touch, and the cool water running over his rough hands. It was a rare thing for Joel to find serenity when you weren't around. The stream reminded him of you. He searched for you in everything around him. He often found you in water, in the way the wind blew through tree branches, in the way deer ran from the snap of a twig, in the way the sun rose in hues of pink and orange. He found you in every beautiful thing the world had left to offer.

But not that day.

That day, Joel found you in cruelty. He found you in blood-splattered clothing, with hands that would be stained with a tint of red, matted hair, a cut on your eyebrow, and skin embedded under your fingernails. He had never seen you in such a state. Your eyes were empty, stuck on the stream that separated the two of you. There was a dead salamander, held in place underneath the current by weathered rocks. You found death everywhere you went. There was no escape, no hiding spot. Sometimes, you thought it sought you out, damning you to an eternity of that fucking smell as a means of atonement for your sins.

Joel called your name across the small distance of the water. He didn't know his voice could be so gentle. "What happened to you?"

You didn't hear him. He stepped through the water, giving no care to the wetness seeping into his shoes, and spoke your name once more.

"Let me look at you." He was nearly an arm’s length away from you before you finally picked up on his presence.

"Stay away." You whispered, your throat ached. You couldn't remember screaming. "Don't come near me."

"What happened?" He stopped just a few inches in front of you, close enough for you to see the wrinkles in his forehead and the crows feet that decorated the corner of his eyes, close enough to reach out and touch him. Your hands stayed by your sides, not trusting that he was there, that your fingers wouldn’t pass through the muscles of his chest. You couldn’t let him vanish into thin air.

"I don't know." It was Joel’s turn to be scared. He took in the obvious context clues of your appearance, but it still told him so little. Was it your blood or someone else's? Was it Infected or a human? Why were you so shaken? Why did you want him to stay away? You looked as though the combination of the gentle spring breeze and his breath fanning out in front of you would knock you to the ground.

It did. He was right there to catch you.

He was always there.

"I need you to talk to me." He didn't know how to do this anymore. He had been trying to relearn the gentleness he once possessed so many years ago, the kind he used to rock his daughter to sleep when she was a baby. He was slowly getting there but he feared what he had to offer wouldn't be enough. Not when seeing you like this scared him more than any horror the world could conjure up. He thinks seeing you like this scared him more than you dying. He knew how to handle death, how to exact his revenge in the cruelest, most damnable of ways. He knew how to rip men into pieces, to make them regret ever drawing breath; he knew how to put fear into the heart of anyone who dared to cross his path or take what was his.

Joel knew violence. Bloodshed.

He didn't know how to make you stop shaking.

"I- I–" Your voice failed you.

"Let's just clean you up, okay?" All you could do was nod. He gently lowered you to the ground, not trusting your legs enough to allow you to attempt to stand again. He couldn't do anything about the soiled state of your clothes at that moment, but he could wash your hands and face for you. The water was just slightly too cold, but you were sweating and it would be good for you to cool down. He didn't care that it made the tips of his fingers numb. He could only care about you, the hollowness echoing in your chest, and the crazed look in your eyes.

Blood mixed with water, flowing over the dead salamander, still trapped under the rock and it felt like some kind of sick metaphor that you didn't have the capacity to decipher.

He used a rag stashed away in his pack to clean the evidence off of you. Most of the time, when you saw him use his hands, it wasn't pure or loving. Not like this. He was getting better, but he wasn't fully there. But, Joel found it in himself to love you with his hands that day. He showed you in the way the rag barely made contact with your skin, not wanting to leave behind any more redness than the blood already would; in the way that he eroded the edges of the stone in his eyes and placed his lips on your forehead. It wasn’t a kiss, just a moment of contact, a silent ‘I love you,’ in the only way he knew to show you in the moment.

One day, he would tell you. One day, he would tell you how you made it easier to stay alive. He would tell you how, in the past, he had found people he was willing to die for, but never someone that made him want to live; someone that gave him purpose for fighting every day; someone that made him feel as though the world wasn’t out to get him, like he was more than a weapon of destruction. You looked at him like he was still a human being; like he never knew bloodshed; like he held galaxies in his eyes; like he was the galaxy, and you were a newly formed star, looking for a place to call home.

Like he was still Joel Miller.

You made him feel like he still existed.

But he tucked his feelings inside of his pocket, along with the rag that he used to clean you. He still didn’t know whose blood stained the once-white cloth, but he could confidently say that none of it was yours, save for the cruor on your forehead. You had finally calmed down. Your heart still hammered in your chest, and your hands slightly trembled, but the gentle caress of Joel’s fingers against your skin instilled in you a degree of tranquility that you once thought only death could possess.

His name softly fell from your lips, and for the first time during your encounter, your eyes met his. "I need you to tell me what happened to you."

Joel wasn’t satisfied with your retelling of the events, but details changed nothing, and you loved the gray-haired man too much to distress him more than you already had. He knew you were not giving him the full picture—I was out walking, and someone came up from behind me. I took care of it. I just don’t like doing it up close… smells like shit— but he chose not to pry. He knew you would tell him when—if—you were ready. All that truly mattered was getting you home safely.

He walked closely beside you, so close that his body would slightly brush against yours as the uneven terrain caused both of you to slightly stumble and sway. Every time it happened, your skin caught fire. Joel did his best to ignore the sparks it sent through his chest in favor of paying enough attention to the path ahead for the both of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to look out for yourself—he trusted you with your life, which was considerably more important to him than his own—and he didn’t want you to have to stress yourself more than you already had. All he cared about was keeping you safe and as unperturbed as possible.

He took you to his and Ellie’s home.

You had practically lived there in the recent months, preferring to spend your free time with the grumpy older man—he was never grumpy towards you—and the young girl that had found a way to imbed herself within the walls he had spent the last twenty years fortifying. Articles of your clothing had found their way into his dresser without him ever noticing until he had to dedicate an entire drawer to you, not dissimilar to how the smallest pieces of you had slipped past his walls and attached to his heart. You carved statues out of the stone, creating an entire museum in his soul in your likeness; by the time he noticed, he had already spent every day marveling at the sculptures.

Sometimes, it scared him.

In fact, he vehemently tried to shut you out; he had a track record of failing to protect the ones he loved, and he already had Ellie to look after. If he lost both of you, it would be the end of him. There would be no coming back, and maybe if he acted like he didn’t care, he would one day believe it. The grief of Sarah and Tess haunted him, the burden being too much to bear some days. There is only so much loss, so much suffering that a heart can carry and he met his limit years ago—carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man—and the more people he cared about, the more likely loss became. He never intended to let you in. Then again, he never intended to let Ellie in, but it was different with you. Ellie reminded him of what it was like to be a father, showed him that love is synonymous with more than pain and regret, but he still felt a degree of emptiness in his chest, a hollowness that he had long accepted would live inside of him until the day he died. She reminded him of hope, but there was something still missing. A missing puzzle piece that never actually came in the box, doomed to a lifetime of incompletion.

But you came along—your smile, your laughter, your witty remarks, the way you made him remember what life was and should have been, the way you took the galaxy off of his shoulders and put the sun in his ribcage. You meticulously handmade the missing piece of that puzzle over painstaking months. He had taken matters into his own hands many times and snapped it in half, but you never relented. You carved it out of a thin piece of wood, mixed the paint, and applied it with a brush that you crafted from a stick and horsetail, over and over again until he had no choice but to snap in the once-lost piece and frame it on his wall. You had given him everything he knew he was missing but didn’t know how to find, and damn sure did not know how to say.

The least he could do was take care of you, give you one of his t-shirts because you always said you loved the smell—he would never be able to understand why but the least he could do was oblige, and take care of you in the way you needed him to.

At least, that’s what he told himself when you climbed in his lap and peppered barely-there kisses down his jawline and neck. It’s what he told himself when your lips so gently met his, when your teeth bit his bottom lip and your tongue soothed the sting that was left behind. He wasn’t sure why it happened; maybe it was because you could’ve died and life had become too short to waste time pretending that you didn’t love Joel Miller with every fiber of your being, that he wasn’t the air you breathed or the blood pumping through your veins or the sun shining through your bedroom window in the morning. Maybe he reciprocated because you almost died, you almost broke your promise to him and the thought of you leaving his world without you ever knowing the way you breathed life back into his wretched body pained him far worse than any wound he had ever suffered.

"I worry when you go out there by yourself. You never know."

"You know I’ll always come back to you, Joel."

"You can’t be sure of that."

"I prom–"

"You can’t promise that."

"Yes, I can. I just did. You know I don’t break my promises."

It all came to a head on that couch. All of the stolen glances; the evenings spent lying in bed together, reminiscing on a life that no longer existed and picturing one that had yet to come to fruition; the accidental touches that were never truly accidents; the way that the two of you, together, were one of the last pure things left in the world, and you had somehow managed to come together in the midst of unspeakable horror to alleviate the neverending loneliness that crushed your souls for the last twenty years.

You brought Joel Miller back to life, lifted the child-sized grief riding on his shoulders, and bore the weight with him.

So, the least Joel could do was take care of you. He was a man of action, and you needed to forget that the world existed outside of the four walls and roof of his home; you needed a release, and he was happy to provide it for you. So, maybe that was why he reciprocated, why he softly grabbed your chin with his calloused hands and tilted it up so that he had free access to your neck. Delicate whimpers escaped from your kiss-swollen lips as he nipped at the juncture of your jawline and neck, leaving behind the faintest traces of purple that you would surely chastise him for in the morning. He played you like one of his guitars, and it was the sweetest melody to ever grace his ears.

You whined—a desperate sound he didn’t know your vocal chords possessed the ability to create—when he pulled your body off of his lap and sat you beside him on the couch. "What’re you doing?" You questioned him as he rose from the couch. For a moment, you feared that you had overstepped, that you had misread his affections and he thought of you in the same way he did Ellie. It crushed you, but only for a moment, because that was all the time it took for him to get on his knees in front of you, his large hands spreading your legs apart so that he could nestle in between them. The position sent discomfort through his persistently aching knees, but he didn’t have the willpower to care. Not when your eyes were practically begging him to continue, and your hands cupped his jaw and your thumb rubbed in a circular motion on his chin, grazing over his bottom lip when the pattern widened slightly.

"Let me take care of you, darlin’. Just relax for me." You thought that you were on fire when his arm brushed against yours in the woods, but that paled in comparison to the inferno raging inside of your stomach when Joel began unbuttoning your jeans. He was so gentle that if you closed your eyes, it was almost as though he wasn't there to begin with, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. Why would you, when he stared at you with such adoration, his hair already a mess, his pupils dilated despite the light shining in through the windows, on his knees for you?

Joel Miller didn’t have a submissive bone in his body, but he still bent the knee to you as though you were royalty, touched you like you were the only woman to exist, and you wanted to watch every second of it.

"This isn’t real." You whispered. He gripped your thigh, almost to the point of pain. You didn’t wake up.

"Do you want it to be?"

"God, yes."

You quickly learned that Joel liked to take his time. He was never a patient man, but with you? With you, he would wait until the end of infinity, until time ceased to pass and the seasons no longer existed. It felt as though it was exactly what he was waiting for as he left open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs, never quite reaching where you so desperately needed him. The longer he drew it out, the closer you came to believing that you had died in the woods and were mistakenly sent to heaven. His kisses were hot coals peppering your legs.

"Joel, stop tea—" He had already read your mind. He had a tendency to do so; some days, you thought he could truly see inside of you, could hear the thoughts bouncing around your brain. That couldn’t have been true. If he did, he would have known how badly you wanted him, just like he was in that moment months ago.

His deft fingers moved aside the cotton of your panties—had it been twenty years ago, you would have picked the silkiest of fabrics, tempted him into ripping them off of you, but undergarments were hard to come by and they were one of the few pairs you owned, so he took special care not to stretch or rip the fabric. His tongue licked a thick stripe up your center, grazing over a bundle of nerves that sent your body jolting, eliciting a chuckle from the man below you. It infuriated you that, despite being below you, he was still in complete and utter control of you. He clouded every inch of your senses, left you a complete mess above him and he had the audacity to laugh.

Your hands flew to his messy, salt-and-pepper hair as he began focusing on that bundle. You had never felt so alive. His tongue was hot, reaching all of the right places, and it left you an absolute mess. Joel had never seen you so desperate; he had never seen you beg, and he never thought he would, but now he was addicted. He thought he could spend the rest of his life between your legs and still never be satisfied.

It did not take long for that familiar knot to begin tightening in your stomach. "I— fuck— Joel." Words were completely lost on you, your brain was too overwhelmed with his tongue working your clit. Maybe it was because it had been the better part of five years since you had truly been with someone, or maybe it was because Joel knew exactly what he was doing and all of the right places to touch, or maybe it was both, but your orgasm hit you hard. Your back arched as your body was engulfed in white-hot pleasure, and your eyes screwed shut as you cried out into the empty room. Your fingers pulled tighter on Joel’s hair, and he moaned. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

You thought he would be done after that, that he would realize what he had done and what it meant and would run away with his tail between his legs. It seemed that only you had the power to truly scare Joel Miller. You tried to pull his head back up to you, but he wanted no part of it, finding shelter between your legs. His rough hands rubbed your thighs up and down and up and down while he went back to peppering kisses on the supple skin, whispering soft praises to you.

You did so good.

Such a good girl.

Sound so beautiful.

You were so caught up in the praise, in the way it warmed your body almost as much as your orgasm had that you missed his fingers trailing higher and higher until two of them were circling your clit and your body felt like a live wire. "Give me one more," he pleaded, and how could you say no to him?

Your second orgasm hit you harder and faster than the first. Joel applied ruthless stimulation to such a devastating spot that no one had hit so perfectly before, and it had you seeing stars behind closed eyes. When he added his tongue back, you were a goner, reduced to incoherent babbling, the only discernible words being, "Joel," and, "Please don’t stop." He was happy to oblige.

He strained painfully in the denim of his jeans, desperately wanting you underneath him; he wanted to look in your eyes as you came apart for him, and he wanted to feel you tighten around him and beg him for more, but he knew this wasn’t about him. It was about you, the way you desperately needed someone to hold onto; you needed a release, and he was happy to be nothing more than that for the time being.

When you came down, Joel whispered more praises to you, this time into the crook of your neck as he trailed more kisses across the skin. You could not remember the last time you were on the receiving end of something so tender, but you wanted it to last a lifetime. It made you feel human in a world that was going extinct; you felt alive again, and you weren't convinced it was only the orgasm that had done it. You knew it was Joel. You knew it was the way he kissed you, ran his hands over your body, and whispered those sweet nothings into your ear that had you remembering you were still human after everything you had done.

"Joel," you said, your eyes closed and your head tilted back as he rested in your neck.You had a million things you wanted to ask him. The words were stuck in your throat, and you choked on them. You knew he could see it.

"Just relax for me," He said it once again, but this time it made you melt. He lifted his head off of you, and pushed yours into his shoulder. "Don’t worry about me."

"You know I’m going to."

"Yeah," he almost laughed, "I know." You fell asleep with him petting your hair and his arm wrapped around your shoulders. The position was uncomfortable, and you would surely wake with stiffness in your neck, but you would have rather died than be without him and the scent of dirt and musk that flooded your senses. He was everything that you needed in that moment, and you knew some things were better left unsaid; the silence was an easier burden to bear than going a lifetime knowing with absolute certainty that he didn’t feel the same. Would he feel the same?

You thought your question was answered when you heard him humming to you as your mind became clouded with sleep.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou show #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic

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saekkas · 11 months

Text

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary: in a different universe, michael kaiser comes home to you, and every single hardship he's endured has meaning when you wrap your arms around him. in this one, he has only himself to blame for when his house becomes a shadow of the home he used to live in.

tags: f!reader, kissing, angst (minimal comfort), lovers to strangers, neglectance, second chances, fools gold.

wc: 1.8k

notes: inspired by an angsty ask @mirahua sent that's been plaguing my mind for the past week. also, my debut as an angst writer so pls go easy on me ಥ_ಥ and the tags kind of sort of don't make sense, forgive me for that </3

"i'm home," kaiser whispers, opening the door to his apartment only to click it shut a few seconds later, his eyes fighting to keep themselves open.

he leans against the door, taking in the wide space. everything's dark and still, there are no signs of life, as to be expected when one comes home at 4AM.

he sighs, passing by the books and empty mug you must've used earlier in the day. some of his stuff is cluttered around yours, like the small sanrio plushies he bought with you only months ago. they occupy the sofa along with your pillows, and he smiles sadly at the sight. where did the time go?

even with so many trinkets and things littered around, his house feels empty. lonely as if no one's lived in it for weeks and months. his steps falter as he enters the kitchen to find a portion of a home-cooked meal, sitting on his favorite plate. it's cold but it still glows with the warmth and love you prepared it with.

he sighs once more, rubbing his hand across his face. putting the meal into the fridge with shaky hands, kaiser's quick to drop onto one of the chairs.

he stops for a second, looking around his house, the place he's lived in for the past 3 years. something's changed within the space, like there's an object that doesn't belong between the four walls. deep in his heart, kaiser wonders if it's him.

fishing his phone from his pocket, he takes in the messages that start to trickle onto the screen. it's been on airplane mode the whole day, a habit he needs to break, you've once told him.

his thumb lingers above your contact.

scrolling through, his eyes take in every single text you've sent him dating from months back. he sees the way they started; love filled descriptions of your days mixed in with questions about his own. reading the text you've sent today, he feels a pang go through him at the lone message. good night. get home safe. nothing else.

his hand clenches around the table, sadness turning into guilt that spreads like a plague when he realizes he's barely replied back to any.

this has been his life for the last 9 months. he wakes up, leaves for practice, comes back sometime around dawn, only to repeat the next day. his muscles scream at him every second, his shoulders groaning under the weight of exhaustion. it's the price one has to pay for the fame and fortune, kaiser tells himself.

self-assured as he makes himself out to be, kaiser isn't stupid enough to leave things all to fate. he may be a star striker now, one that has everyone vying for his time and attention, but who knows what will come in the next few years.

there will always be new talent, people with incredible skills and the greed to propel them into stardom. into taking his place. he knows because he's seen it before. been it before.

as the clock sounds to signal a new hour, his vision starts to blur. everything is starting to feel foggy, his head pounding and body screaming at him for sleep. he can't quite grasp anything. not when there's a distance separating him and the world around him.

"mihya?" comes your voice, soft and slightly raspy. kaiser snaps back into focus, the ringing in his ears dulling into background noise. "you're home."

"hi, baby." you're swaying on your feet, one of his shirts around your body. he recognizes it to be one of his favorites and he almost chuckles at the sight if not for the lump that's appeared in his throat. "shouldn't you be asleep? did i wake you up? i'm sorry if i did.'"

the first thing that comes to mind is how delicate you look. as if one wrong move, one wrong word is going to push you into a shell. he takes in everything about you, starting from the messiness of your hair to the slump of your shoulders.

he hasn't seen you. hasn't had the opportunity to breathe you in like he used to. those night when he traced every single one of your features, giggling loudly with you in the dead of the night seem so far away now.

he misses it, those moments you shared from who-knows how many nights ago.

when you rub the sleep out of your eyes, looking at him with a small smile, his trance breaks. he takes in the distance between you both, like a chasm that's gaping and mocking him because he was the one who let it widen this far.

"you didn't. i just needed to pee," you say, tone just barely above a whisper. there's something floating between you two, the things unsaid. you're afraid they'll come pouring out if you break the silence. "how was practice?"

kaiser realizes, even when you're right in front of him, your presence feels like a ghost. hesitant, locked up into a small ball of a person that's only being held together by hope and love, no matter how small.

"i'm sorry i didn't reply to your text." the words pour out of him like a waterfall, blunt and bruising. i'm sorry i haven't been with you. his eyes trace your form, and he sighs, moving to engulf you into his arms. "practice was.. busy."

please don't leave. please tell me that this is enough. that i'm enough.

"it's okay. i'm used to it." your tongue slips and you sigh as he wraps around you. it feels foreign, his touch. like he's not exactly the same person he used to be, but neither are you. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

kaiser can only clench his eyes. he leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead. "i know, it's okay. and i'm sorry."

i'm sorry i haven't been there for you. i'm sorry i haven't taken you out on another date. i'm sorry that i'm selfish and all i know is to take and take. i'm sorry that it's leaving you hollow and bruised. i'm sorry my love isn't enough.

the thoughts swirl, pinging around like warning signals going off in his head. he opens his mouth, only to close it right after. "let's go to bed."

even when the softness of his duvet embraces him, kaiser can't relax. his body stays stiff, timid as he waits for you to settle beside him. when you do, he's slow to reach out, placing a hand on your hip to test the waters.

he relaxes when you mold into his form, curling around his body as if he's never done any wrong. he presses you hard against his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

he doesn't get to hold you like this anymore. between practice and exhaustion, whenever his head hits the pillow, he's out like a light. he misses the intimacy, the feeling of having someone beside him.

"do you think about me?" he hums, asking you the question. his hands nestle around your waist and back. he breaths in your scent, his body finally letting the coils of his muscles loose. "because it feels like i think about you every minute."

you respond in kind, caressing the hand that's nestled on your waist. you don't say anything. you don't need to, not when you let him kiss you for the first time in months.

"you know i love you right?" he whispers. there's nothing but him, him, him. you're surrounded by his presence, his touch is everywhere, and there's barely an inch between where you lay. his hair tickles your cheek, the faded blue molding into blonde. "and you know that i would never want to hurt you?"

you should know better. you wish your heart wouldn't give in so easily. you're nothing but an ordinary girl from humble backgrounds while the man wrapped around you is a shooting star that landed on your palm on a rainy summer day.

you should know better because shooting stars fade away.

"do you really?" you whisper, drained and tired out of your mind. "because you've done nothing but hurt me, mihya."

he isn't surprised by your words, but the truth stings all the same. he sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. the weight is back on his shoulders, his head starting to spin as he takes your words in.

"i promise i'll be better," he whispers back, pleading as he looks down into your eyes with tears lined in his. "why don't i take you on a date tomorrow? to that place you've been wanting to go."

"mihya," you trail off, shaking your head. "i-"

"i'll buy you flowers. i'll come home from practice early. we'll drive to the restaurant together." michael kaiser is nothing but greedy. the words that are flowing out are rushed, and his voice cracks under his own emotions. he'll say anything. he'll take and take, if it means he'll get you to stay. "you mean everything to me. i can't lose you."

you don't reply, not for a long time after. looking into his eyes, you process every bit of guilt and hope he has strewn inside. you wonder if they're enough to fix whatever's left.

"okay," you say with a hesitant nod of your head. "one last chance."

kaiser's eyes light up, brightening his whole visage.

"thank you." he kisses you, deep and passionate. there's nothing but you and him in the moment and as you fall asleep, kaiser whispers against your ear, placing gentle kisses on your cheek, wishing they'll be enough to take back every ounce of hurt he's given you. "i love you."

the next morning, kaiser leaves with a light heart and a kiss on his cheek. his steps are confident, his eyes bright. there's nothing in his head except for you and your date. he hums to himself, letting his thoughts roam about your reaction for when he surprises you with flowers when he gets home.

and yet, the universe is a cruel thing and so is his greed. kaiser loses himself in his practice, scoring goal after goal even as his phone rings. he doesn't see your texts of "mihya, don't forget our date tonight! can't wait!" "mihya, what should i wear? should we match?" "mihya it's getting late, where are you?" nor does he see the multiple missed calls you leave.

and when he gets home, soaked in rain with wilted flowers in his hand, kaiser is greeted by the sight of a truly empty house. your warm presence is gone, taking every moment of happiness with you.

he has only himself to blame for every single self-destructive habit that's led to him losing the one he calls home.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser x reader #blue lock angst #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser angst #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x female reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock headcanons #kaiser angst

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nolovelingers · 9 months

Text

NOT TOO CLOSE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ethan landry !!

⋆ ★ you remember the first night you met. the shared lingered feeling of a message you couldn’t quite decipher, something telling you all signs were red and pointing in the opposite direction; away from him. it’s too bad, you always had a thing for pretty boys. — short blurb !!

cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, ghostface!ethan ,, mentions of alcohol ,, first meeting ,, fem!reader ,, swearing

PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone , sorry if the formats funky !

——————————————————————————

maybe it was the way the lights were strobing, the haze of the chattering college students lost in their own conversations; the smell of cheep booze and the familiar tinge of marijuana finding its way to your nose and leaving you with a twisted knot in your stomach, the effects of the own alcohol you previously consumed somehow contrasting itself by both numbing half your senses and heightening your other ones.

in the eyes of blackmore university, there was never a holiday too small nor an event too hyped to not celebrate in everyone’s own little way; a halloween party suited for what felt like a small village as you navigated the house packed of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, students laughing and socializing their way through their own buzzes.

not ethan.

clinging onto his roommates side, chad almost wanted to be annoyed by the way ethan couldn’t bare to branch himself off and meet new people but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so as a feeling often described as pity clouded his intoxicated senses.

“dude, we gotta get you a girlfriend.” chad joked (but not really), feet firmly planting on the ground next to the curly haired boy who leaned himself on the doorframe in front of the stairs; the two observing the party in their own little world.

chad wanted to meet new faces. ethan did not.

ethan rolled his eyes, clutching his red solo cup closer to him as a look contorted on his face that of annoyance and disgust before quickly letting his features fall flat and conjure a forced one, embarrassment.

“if it’s that much of a bother to you, you can go talk to some girls. ill just stay here.” he mumbled, looking like a child who just got rejected from buying a toy from their parent. deep down in the pits of his twisted heart he hoped chad would opt out of leaving, not wanting to appear like a loser as he stood alone and drank his embarrassment away.

“really? thanks bro, i was hoping to score some digits tonight.” chad smiled gratefully, already trying to turn away and leave the second ethan gave him his own sort of permission.

“what?! come on, dont leave me here by myself. i look stupid.” immediately ethan felt his heart drop of the idea being seen standing alone at a party, and no matter how much he had disdain to his so called ‘friends’, no matter how badly he wished nothing more than to see chads face as he plunged a knife sharp enough to cut through metal like cheese through his body; to see the life leaving his eyes and the wound oozing that beautiful crimson red color ethan couldn’t seem to get enough of, the last thing he wanted was to look awkwarder than he already was perceived to be.

“you just said i could go!” the dark-skinned boy argued, turning back around to face the taller brunette who gave him the most panicked look in return.

“yeah, cause i was hoping youd say no!”

“how does that make any sense?! if you didn’t want me to leave, just say that!”

ethans face turned into a bit of a pouting look as he silently pleaded for the martin boy to stay by his side.

“look, why don’t you just come with me? i don’t understand what you’re so freaked out about.” chad bargained with ethan who in turn immediately shook his head, planting his feet in the position they were in.

“nope, no way. girls are scary!” ethan spoke in a whiny tone, pausing for a moment before bringing his cup up to his lips and taking a swing of the hard hitting beverage, a stinging in his throat lasting for about a minute as he continued conversing with chad.

“and that’s exactly why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” the shorter boy witted back, causing ethans face to quickly form into what looked to be shock and hurt masking the actual feeling of anger he felt. joke or not, ethan was actually a very hot tempered boy who could get offended quite easily; not that anyone knew that.

the martin boy sighed and decided to rest a reassuring hand on the brown eyed boys shoulder, observing his face which was slightly shaded from the cardboard robot helmet he was wearing, probably another reason ethan was hardly getting any female attention. his costume.

“listen man, stand here and mope all you want, the whole part of a party is to meet people and have fun. i get your shy and you got that whole loner gimmick going on but i don’t want that to stop me from getting my chad on! ill be back here to meet up with you in an hour, maybe try meeting someone new, doesnt even have to be a girl at this point. just.. try, okay?”

chad offered ethan a sympathetic look which only made ethan cringe more before he removed his hand from his shoulder and took off to a group of dancing girls, smoothly sliding in and sparking up conversation almost immediately. how ethan envied that.

letting out an internal (and slightly external) groan, ethan brought his cup up to his lips once again and finished the rest of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on chad who was already talking and laughing with a group of students; entirely girls, that ethan shared a class with.

for almost a minute he didn’t move, suffering in silence and shooting a death glare at chad hidden under the dim lighting of the house. honestly? ethan couldn’t wait to kill him.

he felt isolated. watching everyone mingle and dance with their friends, lovers, and even strangers. he had no other solution than to to drink away his embarrassment, he thought, as he turned around to make his way to the kitchen where the alcohol was, taking one step forward and immediately running into someone shorter than him; their own drink splashing all over the both of them, wetting his cardboard chest piece and their outfit too.

“ah shit- fuck, im sorry about that, seriously.” he’s met with a small voice, not quiet but not extremely loud, gentle enough so that if you want to be able to hear it properly you’d have to tune the blasting music out and focus entirely on them.

jesus fucking christ, give me a break already! ethan thought to himself, annoyance brimming through his entire body as he glanced to the now darker and wet spots of his cardboard chestpiece before finally looking down and at the person who bumped into him, a girl.

“accidents happen, don’t worry about it.” he forced out, trying for the death of him not to want to reach out and strangle you right there; his face was met with an awkward half smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. despite his anger, he was able to take the time to notice that your face wasn’t half-bad to look at.

he continued to stare at you for a moment, waiting for you to say something, maybe to apologize again? to stumble out some stupid excuse? pathetically flirt? well, not that he’d really mind that last part if he was being honest. he liked the idea of having a girl liking him, but he was terrible at initiating anything.

“you all good? you’re not gonna malfunction on me or anything?” you joked, the both of you internally cringing just a bit at the awkwardness but it seemed to calm ethan from his current state of mind as he met you with furrowed eyebrows and a unsure smile.

“oh, the costume.” he spoke, mostly to himself, while scratching the back of his head. “think ill be good.”

you nod, the fainted tinge of pink lighting up your cheeks and ethan studies you for a moment longer.

“are you new? i haven’t seen you on campus before.” curiously, the brunette boy watches your face for a reaction, taking note of your every move while under his watch.

“sorta. i mean, if you consider three months to be new. i transferred here a while ago, it’s always been my dream to move to new york so once i saved up some money i chased my dreams.” you explain, and ethan nods, finally allowing a boyish smile to consume his features. for the most part it was forced, continuing to hold up his friendly image.

he doesn’t have to reply before you hop to the next subject, this time you’re asking the question.

“aren’t you chads roommate?”

“yeah, im ethan. ethan landry. nice to meet you..?” he holds his hand out for a handshake, trailing off the edge of his sentence as he waits for you to finish.

“(y/n). nice to meet you, ethan ethan.” you accept the short handshake, gently shaking hands and noticing the unreasonable strength and grip to his hold that didn’t seem the match the innocent, and dare you say weak look written all over his face while making a bad joke about his name from his introduction that still seems to score a smile from him; and ethan couldn’t help but notice the fact he didn’t have to force this one on his face. it came naturally.

“(y/n),” he repeated, as if trying your name out for himself. he smiled a little, that same shy nerdy facade written all over his face. “you got a last name?”

“does it matter?”

“i- guess not?” he looked a bit caught off guard but there was no actual hostility or mystery in your voice, just some sass. you were honestly entertaining.

“so why’re you standing here all alone?” you switch topics again, which ethan took note of. your mind seemed to wonder fast, moving from one thing to the next with no hesitation.

“ah, it’s kinda embarrassing.” the boy admitted, a small warm blush coating his pale complexion as he found himself not wanting to tell you the real reason why. wait- a blush? no, that couldn’t be right. he must just be feeling hot. all the alcohol was effecting him, or something. “i don’t really know a lot of people here, so i was just hanging out with chad till he left me to go talk to some girls.”

“ah, a typical chad move. literally and figuratively.” you nod, feeling yourself start to relax your body language more around the curly haired brunette the longer you were near him.

he chuckled, looking at you with those sweet chocolate brown eyes of his that gave you the most heartwarming feeling. “you’re kinda funny.” he tries to compliment, smiling now, a more natural grin than the ones he offered you originally. though it could be taken as a compliment or an insult, his tone genuinely sounded sincere, like he had no bad intentions. he was just an awkward guy who had no idea how to socialize or talk to the pretty girl in front of him pretty girls.

“i kinda thank you?” you respond, definitely confused on how to take in his comment.

he smiled awkwardly at you and seemed to look as if he was hiding his face as he glanced to the floor. “sorry,” he mumbled, and you felt your heart twinge as he resembled that of a hurt puppy.

“you’re good. i appreciate the sentiment.” reassuring him, he glanced back up at you with a crooked toothless smile, feeling his guard come down all around him. he had no idea why he was feeling this way, or why it felt so easy to talk to you.

there was a moment where silence fell between the two of you, staring deeply into your eyes he looked like he wanted to say something, an internal struggle of conflict in his mind while you simply watched in utter bliss and oblivion to the situation.

“i guess i should get going, i have to find my friend before they run off with some stranger they just met to hook up with. ill see you around though?” you offer him politely, and ethan felt a strange hollowness in his heart at the idea of you leaving him, but he pushed those feelings back and nodded anyway.

you’re about to turn around, start the search for your your friend in the mass of drunken college students, and you make it about five whole feet away before a voice calls your name. ethans voice.

“hey, (y/n)?” you turn around, meeting his eyes again. there’s something in them this time. it’s noticeable now as he locks eyes without you. something a bit sinister about the way he holds your gaze and his stance now looks like he’s taking over the whole room, confident but dark all the same.

“yeah?” you ask. you definitely notice the way his eyes have lost all emotion except one: danger. but this is ethan, ethans a nice boy. it must be the dim lighting and the short yet further distance between the two of you than it previously was.

“don’t get too close to me.” he warns you, and you feel a strange feeling crawl up your spine. the way he looks at you while he says it. the way his tone has completely voided from the sweet voice you were speaking to before and the aura all around him that now screams danger.

you don’t know what to do, unsure of what to say. maybe he was joking, maybe he was drunk, or maybe he really just didn’t want your companionship.

all you can do is awkwardly smile. “ill see you around, ethan.” and with that, you walk away from him, searching the packed house for your friend and forgetting about the short yet easy-going (up until the end) conversation you held with the landry boy.

and though you’ve pushed your interaction to the back of your head, ethans eyes never once leaves the back of yours.

𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𖦹 a/n :: the most unrealistic part of scream vi is that ethans a virgin

started 08.04.23. finished 08.04.23.

(о´∀`о)

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