#I usually just blurt it out because I don’t know how to lead up to it other than saying “maybe you should sit down for this” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

messylustt · 1 year

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can i pleaseee request a dark!ghostface!ethan landry x reader where the reader doesn’t know ethan is ghostface and she looses him at a party so she stumbles around tipsy trying to find him calling out his name when suddenly someone dressed as ghost face approaches and starts walking beside her making very sketchy and personal questions (its ethan but obviously reader doesn’t know 🙄) ultimately leading to a chase and she gets home thinking shes safe and suddenly he ambushes reader and ‘spice occurs’ (idk) and then shes like “no! i need ethan!” and he gets …turned on… and asks about himself iykwim . pls base it off of that 😭

holy shit i love this … ethan’s gonna feel so fucking smug about reader needing him heh

tell me more — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : being attacked by ghostface leads to strange questions about ethan. ethan being behind the mask grows more and more turned on the more you say.

contents : just filthy, slight dub con, unprotected sex. wc 2.9k

You down another red solo cup. But as no more liquid falls down your throat, your brows begin to furrow. You pull the cup away to see no more alcohol sloshing inside.

“Ethan,” you turn. “Can you get me another—”

You stop, not seeing the curly haired boy behind you. You spin. Or beside you. “Ethan?” You call, your tone tipsy, over the rowdy students, all enjoying the party.

You step, but sway as you grab the wall. A giggle escapes you as you nearly knock shoulders with a passing couple. “Sorry.”

You go back to looking for Ethan, who had been by your side the entire party up till now. “Ethan?” You drag out the syllables as you squint your eyes. “Where are you?” You mutter under your breath.

“Y/n?”

You spin, seeing Chad. “Chad!” You exclaim. “Have you seen Ethan?”

Chad chuckles at your slightly slurring words. You put your hands on your hips, as you wait for his response.

Chad shakes his head. “Last I saw, he was with you.”

You sigh, turning back to stare through the house party.

“You alright?” Chad asks. You nod in response.

“I’m fine, you go…go back to…whatever you were doing.” You walk away, gazing around.

“Ethan—oh.” You bump into someone, and as you glance up to apologise you pause, seeing the white face of Ghostface.

You narrow your eyes, stepping back, swaying a fraction. “Excuse me.” You say, walking past them.

As you try to continue your search, you feel a presence beside you. Glancing to your left, you see Ghostface, black cloak and all, walking alongside you. “What— who are you? You know, its not a great costume.” You continue slowly walking through the crowd.

“Is it not?” The baritone voice of Ghostface asks.

“Hey!” You slightly slur. “Where did you find one of those modulators? I’ve been trying to find one.” You pause. “To try it out, not because…I uh, kill people. I don’t kill people.”

Your blurting out anything on your mind, and Ghostface just tilts he head as he observe you.

“You know, you could have been more original. Everyone dresses up…as Ghostface.” You say, slightly poking his chest.

“And how do you know I’m dressing up?”

You pause. “Well…�� you blink, trying to screw your head on straighter.

“How do you know I’m not the real Ghostface.” He whispers, the low voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Uh…your at a house party?” As if that would prove your point.

“You don’t think Ghostface goes to house parties?”

“I mean not to party,” you say, slightly growing wearier. “…obviously.”

“Is that what you do—party?” Ghostface asks.

“Of course!” You say, stumbling a bit. “I always go to parties. Usually with—oh!” You exclaim, glancing around.

“Have you seen a boy with curly brown hair, and a cute smile?” You ask Ghostface.

“What’s his name?”

“Ethan.” You nod, squinting your gaze on the crowd again. “He disappeared.”

“A cute smile?” Ghostface inquires.

“Yes.” You wave your hand dismissively. “Now get looking.”

You walk farther into the hallway, where it appears quieter and darker, away from the fluorescent lights. “Ethan?”

Then you feel a breath by your ear. “You seem desperate.”

You spin, seeing Ghostface. “Don’t do that, your making me think your actually a creepy killer.” You whisper. Alcohol still buzzed in your system, but you could feel it begin to ebb away as you stared at the silent, eerie figure.

“Mr. Ghostface?” You ask, since they hadn’t answered you. “Or Mrs.”

You then see something glint against the hanging hallway light. Something metal, in Ghostfaces grip.

“What—” you cut yourself off, staring at it. The threat suddenly clicks in your brain, as you whip your gaze back up to Ghostface’s mask. He begins to step closer, and you stumble slightly back.

You look around and realise how alone you are. Ghostface is blocking the way back to the party. You glance behind you and see the front door. Without thinking, you run to it, turning the handle and rushing outside.

This house was thankfully not a far walk from your apartment. And as you glance back to see Ghostface following you, you hurry your steps.

Your growing soberer by the second, as the cold air hits your face, and the looming danger of getting stabbed makes your pulse quicken. You can hear steps pick up behind you, making you hurry yours in turn.

You’re soon nearing your apartment, and wondering why Ghostface hasn’t caught you yet, you weren’t that much of a fast runner. Was it genuinely some joke?

You spare a glance behind you to see no one. You don’t slow though. Carrying up to your door, whipping it open and locking it.

You breathe heavy as you back up into your apartment, switching the lights on. “Fuck, that better have been a joke.” You mutter, feeling almost stupid for freaking out.

“I’m afraid it wasn’t.” The low voice makes you spin. There stands Ghostface in your kitchen, the signature tilt to his head.

You should have grabbed a knife. You rush farther into your apartment as you try to reach for a room, but Ghostface is quick to intercept, grabbing you and yanking you towards him.

You scream, trying to get out of his grip. “Shh.” He whispers against your ear, as your back presses against his front.

“No, get the fuck off me!” You exclaim harshly.

“Did you end up finding your friend?”

“You know that I didn’t.” You hiss back, as you continue to struggle.

Ghostface chuckles, right by your ear. His grip wraps around you, one of his hands on your stomach, as he stands flush against you.

You gulp. Ethan, god, you hope he was okay. “You didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?”

“Hurt my friend.”

Behind the mask Ethan’s grin is growing. He had wanted a little fun, and seeing you scared and running gave him a rush, one that went straight to his dick. You seemed so concerned for you “friend”. Your cute little question on if he hurt…well…himself, made this all the more enjoyable.

“You seem, so concerned.” He probes. The feeling of you against him, has his voice dropping, even deeper than the modulator originally is, as his sentence husks out.

“Of course I’m concerned.” You say, trying to keep your fear from being prominent in your voice. “I wouldn’t want him hurt, or worse killed.”

Ethan’s gloved hand spreads wider across your stomach, keeping you from running away. He rests his chin on your shoulder, making you stiffen. “Ethan, right?”

You gulp. “Yes. Please don’t hurt my friends, don’t hurt him.”

Ethan is growing more turned on, by your tone of worry. You cared so much for him, and Ethan could tell. Fuck, he liked you like this. He wanted to know more.

“You care about him, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You say, very aware of the knife still in his grasp.

“How much?” Ethan hisses.

“A-a lot.”

“Oh? Why do you care about him—a lot?”

“He’s always been a good friend.” You say, your breathing mismatched.

“Is that all?”

“No. He’s also quite cute.” Your spewing answers in hopes that Ghostface won’t kill you. But you know how foolish that notion is.

“Is he? What’s cute about him?” Ethan asks, licking his lips.

“His uh, face.”

“That’s a bit generic.”

“Also his hands, I like his hands.” In response Ethan, drags his hand lower down your stomach making you slightly arch into him. Your wearing a pretty little skirt, that him as Ethan couldn’t look at for too long. But him as Ghostface could do whatever he wants.

“Why?” God, Ethan was getting hard. Being this close to you, and hearing your praising words is sending heat through him.

“Um, their big and…I like how they feel.”

Fuck, Ethan is breathing hard. He pulls you closer to him, making you gasp. “What else?”

“H-he um.” You gulp. “His hair. I like his hair. I always want to run my fingers through it.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because that would be weird.” You two were friends, you felt it would cross that line. Though as you begin think about all these things about him, your starting to feel butterflies slowly swarm your stomach. Did you “like like” Ethan?

“I don’t think so. It’s a friendly thing to do.”

You hold back a scoff. “I’m not taking any sort of advice from you.”

Ghostface—Ethan—chuckles. “But I’m being honest. I’m sure he’d love if you ran your pretty fingers through his hair. Maybe he might slide his hand to rest on your thigh.” Ethan slowly brings his hand further down your body, to stop on your thigh, your skirt slightly scrunching up.

You shudder at the shift. Fear and adrenaline coursing through you. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

“You sound so sure.” Wouldn’t do that?—Ethan thinks to himself. No. He’d do a lot more. He has the urge to track back up your thigh, this time under your skirt. But he wants to drag this out a little longer.

“Let’s say he did do that. How would you react?”

“Why are you asking me this—”

His grip hardens on your thigh making you shut up.

You gulp. “I would probably move closer. To reach his hair better.”

“And how would you feel?”

“I would feel…hot.”

“Where?”

“What?” Your mind is running wild as thoughts of Ethan swarm your brain.

“Where would you feel hot?” Fuck, Ethan was growing agitated. He could feel his cock throb. The pressure of his pants made sure you didn’t feel him through the long cloak.

“Um.” Your voice shakes a fraction. “In my…stomach.”

“Here?” Ethan wanders back to your stomach and taps his fingers against the material if your top.

“Y-yes.”

“Are you sure?” Ethan’s gloved hand goes lower, making your breath hitch. “Not here?” It’s a ghost of a touch. But you feel it, his finger brushing across your clothed pussy. You shudder against him. You were hot. Exactly where he said.

“Do you know how Ethan would feel?” Ghostface—Ethan—asks.

“No.”

“He would feel desperate.” Ethan’s voice comes off breathy through the modulator. “So, desperate.”

You shudder at the thought, even more so as Ghostface brings his hand under your shirt, still staying by your stomach.

“Do you like Ethan?” Ethan could tell you felt something for him, but if you were in denial than you wouldn’t make a move. But now with this information he doesn’t mind stepping up. Cause he really did want to feel your hands running through his hair.

“I—” you breath.

“Yes?” Ethan eagerly asks.

“A…little bit. Yeah. Yeah, I kind of do.”

Ethan grins behind the mask, as his grip tightens around you. You fit against him so nicely.

“Well, what a lucky guy.” He almost chuckles to himself.

“Are you going to stab me?” You finally ask. What was with all this talking? You should be dead.

“Do you think I will?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“But I want to hear more about your crush.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“…yes.”

Ethan holds back a groan of slight annoyance. “I want to know what you’d let him to do you.”

You blanch. “W-what?”

“I want to know where you’d let him touch you.”

Your suffocating on air. “Would you let him touch here?” He brushes away your hair with his knife to reach your neck, making you shiver. “Would you?”

“I’d…like that.”

Ethan holds back a moan at you letting him—wanting him to touch you.

“Where else?” Ethan continues. “Here?” He grazes down your chest, just above your breasts.

“P-probably.”

“Mmm.” Ethan lowly hums as his gloved hand travels down the top covered valley between your breasts, skirting over your bra.

Your immobile, because there’s a tension growing between your legs, that is making you concerned for your mental health. Ghostface was touching you—almost touching you and you were feeling hot.

Ethan glides his hand all the way until he reached the edge of your skirt, pausing. You gulp, holding down a whine as you press your thighs together. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Would you let him touch here?” He harshly breathes out, as grabs your pussy, making you jolt. He’s touching your panties, hand under your skirt, as he begins to rub. “Yeah? You’d want him to touch you here?”

Your breathing is choppy as he continues to rub up and down, going harder over your clit, making you shudder.

Ethan then wraps his other arm across your chest, bringing you impossibly closer, as he listens to you trying to hide your whimpers. Fuck, you sounded so pretty. Slowly falling apart in his arms.

He was rock hard, and growing desperate. Feeling your pussy over your panties was quickly not enough, as he slips past them, his gloved fingers reaching your wetness. Ethan grins. You were soaked. All for him and his game.

“Are you wet for Ethan or me?” Ethan holds back chuckling at the fact that there’s not a wrong answer.

“E-Ethan.”

But he certainly liked that answer a little better. “You just want to feel his big hands fingering you, don’t you?”

“Oh— fuck.” You choke as he pushes a single finger inside you.

Ethan keeps his other arm across you, his knife loosely in his grip. He keeps wanting to pull you closer, so that your ass completely pressed against his throbbing cock. He had to feel more of you.

He adds another finger as a whimper escapes your lips, making Ethan smile. “That’s right.” He whisper-hisses. “I bet you’ve dreamt of him.”

“Uh huh.” You manage as he thrusts his fingers repeatedly into you.

“Your so cute having little dreams about Ethan. I’m sure you touched yourself. Having woken up horny,and needy.”

“S-shit.” You stutter as his fingers pick up pace, thrusting in and out, in and out. The glove material inside you feels foreign but oh so, good.

“You need him, don’t you.” Ghostface says to your ear. “Don’t you?” Ethan has grown incredibly desperate, as the thought of you wanting him—needing him feels like an orgasm in itself.

“I do.” Your head falls slightly back as pleasure rocks through you. “Ethan…” You moan out.

Ethan finally cracks, pushing you against the wall, as he discarded his knife. He presses himself into you as he finally feels his clothed dick press against your sensitive pussy. You jolt as you feel him, his hands wandering your body, cupping your breasts under you shirt.

“Holy shit.” Ethan breathes as his mask grows hot. He wanted to kiss you. Is it worth taking off the mask?

In response to his silent question to himself, he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside as he stays pressed to you.

You watch as Ethan’s signature curls come into view. Your mouth hangs open in shock. Both at him as Ghostface and at what you had revealed. You had said so much about him, about how wet you were for him.

Your eyes are blown wide and Ethan can’t hold back anymore, smashing his lips against yours. You gasp through the kiss as Ethan plays with your tongue, lapping at your mouth as he moans.

“Ethan…” you manage to say as he unclips your bra, yanking it away. “I didn’t know it was you.” He’s kissing your neck, biting at the sensitive skin, as he begins to grind into you.

He licks your neck making a shiver run down your spine. “I didn’t know you thought of me like that.” Ethan kisses you again, as your head hits back against the wall. He licks your top lip. “You should have told me.”

“I didn’t— I wasn’t sure…if—”

“I felt the same?” Ethan guesses as he brings his hand around your thigh, pulling your leg up to wrap around him. He rips your panties clean off as you gasp. Your skirt is bunched up by your hips. “Well, now you know I really fucking do.”

Ethan reaches for his belt with his other hand, under his cloak. Pushing the dark material aside he brings out his cock, extremely hard and ready.

He pushes the tip into you as your fingers reach for his hair.

“I told you.” Ethan breathes against your open mouth. He pushes further into you as you choke a moan. “I’d love it if your fingers were through my hair. And look,” Ethan pauses to grip your thigh tighter, pulling you closer, as he sinks completely into you. “My hand is on your thigh.”

He thrusts into you, his mouth beginning to open over your own, you both panting as your bodies clash.

“Oh—f-fuck. You feel so…” he can’t even finish his sentence as he continues to thrust, his dick filling you up, as you grow more and more dazed.

“You looked so fucking cute wandering around looking for me.” Ethan says between thrusts. “So. Fucking. Cute.” He moans before kissing you. Both your tongues meet each other sloppily, as the thrusting becomes the same.

Pleasure is through your entire body, as ethan grabs at your waist, fingers digging into your skin. You felt and smelt so nice. “Christ, y/n.”

He bites your jaw as your highs draw close. “Your always gonna need me.” He now grabs your jaw between his fingers. “You hear me? You won’t need anyone else.” He kisses you hard, before whispering against your lips. “Nobody else. Only me.”

#. ( archived )#the ethan effect #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #jack champion x reader #jack champion smut #jack champion #jack champion x y/n #scream smut #scream #scream 6

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

moment's silence

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 7 — The night I lost a bet. [“You know what this means, don’t you?”] [6.6k]

— Summary: Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet. Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

— A/n: Canon-divergence; Reader and Tess met Joel at the same time, and all three became a tight-knit unit. | 🏷️ Tags & warnings⚠️: explicit mature content, minors DNI; age gap, mentions of canon-typical violence, confessions, touch starved, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), slow & deep sex, but also rough sex?, dirty talk, little spoon Joel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

All he can think about when he sees the bookshelf is your words, even if they were spoken on a whim years ago.

"There's no fucking way you can find a classic in good conditions anymore—not even Joel 'I can find anything' Miller is immune to decay and years of nature taking over. They're all gone, Joel. I just have to accept it. I bet there's not a single one that hasn't been wrecked by either people's ignorance or fucking mold eating every single page."

He remembered those words as clear as the day's first rays of light.

Not because of them, precisely. Because of what came after. He had blurted, "Bet what?" out of sheer instinct, only for you to reply with:

"Anything."

Maybe you were being metaphorical at the time, but Joel took it seriously. He outreached his hand for you to shake. "I'll take that bet."

If he never found a book, nothing would change.

If he won, on the other hand. Well—there's something Joel's been wanting from you for a long, long time.

That's why when he enters Bill's house for the first time, Joel stops dead in his tracks on the corridor leading to the kitchen.

You'd been to the house before with him and Tess.

Just like him, you had stood outside the whole time while Tess and Frank went about their rambles and deals. You, Joel, and Bill were all cut out from the same cloth—death stares etched onto your faces as if you were marble, grumbled conversation that came up here and there between long sips of wine.

Neither you nor Joel had been inside yet.

It's the third time he visits, first one without you, and he sees it—

Bookshelf.

One of Bill's doors is open on the way to the kitchen revealing what used to be an office but now looks more like a symbiosis of an atelier and library. It's — nice, Joel guesses.

It's not his thing.

Books — those are your thing.

Joel has no idea what connects you to the pages, but he knows it runs deeper than just academic pleasure, or snobbiness (an assumption made by many who met you).

It's as if whatever elements existed within paper, inked with words that strung together beautiful stories — it moved you.

Joel was entranced by the way you were able to quote several passages.

Few things remained that were worthy of admiration, or interest. He easily placed your small and precious book collection high above on his list.

That, and your ability to bring those stories to life somehow.

"Are you a reader?" Bill's voice is expected — Joel heard his steps approaching and stopping behind him when he did.

He scanned all the shelves, so he looks back to answer Bill. "Not really. Tess never mentioned who's the little Librarian between us? Our reader's absent today."

"If my, uh... —

If mine... if they brought strangers into our situation... I wouldn't be happy either."

"Oh. Well. They seem to listen to you as well as mine listens to me."

"I hope she feels better soon." Bill says the words and they sound so real. Spoken freely, not through gritted teeth or accompanied by his usual stiff shoulders.

Joel's hands rested on his hips. "Yeah." He hated this part — with Bill and Frank it was harder to not talk about things. He was pretty sure Bill didn't even like him, just like Joel didn't like him that much, but they saw each other. Understood one another. "Yeah, me too."

"The medicine you gave — it helped." That came out through gritted teeth. Joel held back from smiling at the unspoken admission—you sold me real shit. It's saving my partner. Thanks. "Frank's talking about — lavender. Herb garden and all. God."

Joel snickers and they exchange a look. "Good luck with that."

"I'll definitely need it." Bill's hands pat his sides, and Joel recognizes his motion before bolting out of a conversation. "Feel free to look at them," he waves a hand in direction of the shelf before leaving Joel there alone.

He does look.

One by one, Joel checks the titles because if you were here, that's what you'd do, and "when in doubt, always do what you must".

He hated that your words stuck to his brain so easily.

They were sticky like honey, which also resembled your voice. Or maybe that was only the way he heard it — Joel enjoyed listening to you talk.

"When in doubt, always do what you must" came after he left behind some supplies in order to help during a run, and you'd gotten mad at him for the first time.

It was then that Joel noticed how fucking tough you were.

Complete the mission. Help when you can. Do what you must.

If he was here already, he might as well read all the titles. Who knew how long he'd last? If he'd be here again, or if you would?

When his eyes land on Frankenstein, Joel knows he hit the jackpot.

That's when the memory of your bet sparks behind his eyelids, and he's cursed with the way you smiled that day.

Anything.

There was something Joel wanted, badly.

He cut out his own permission to want anything that strayed from finding Tommy again, getting clues to somehow discover a way to find his brother, get him back, but you planted the seed in his subconscious by simply existing — he was powerless to stop it.

One second, you and Tess walked into his life.

The next, he had on one side a best friend who cursed as much as him and on the other a menace who popped into his subconscious state, giving him dreams for the first time in years.

You two brought back a sense of humanity into his day-to-day life.

In return, Joel tried his best to do good for both of you.

Keep you safe however he could. Slip extra ration cards into your stack so you could more.

Small things like that — things that he later realized were only the seeds for the want that blossomed.

Joel wanted you out of the smuggling business.

He wanted you to be safe.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Your hand never missed the trigger timing — if there was anyone around the neighborhoods he lived more skilled in knives than you, he'd eat his own hand, and you were clever.

Quick, sharp, rational.

Despite all of that, he hated the sight of your back whenever a deal had them going outside.

Every time he saw a pistol or any other weapon in your hands, he wanted to throw it away as hard as he could.

And here he was, facing Frankenstein.

Anything.

Fuck. Joel hated how he hesitated.

If it belonged to anyone else, his hands would've already made the book meet the secret parts of his backpack, but he couldn't do this to contacts so good like Frank and Bill.

He couldn't fuck up this one.

Shit.

(Maybe he did like the two men, after all. Just a little.)

Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him the book.

One minute they're sitting alone drinking scotch while Tess and Frank finish up the trade and the next, they're talking about old hobbies they regretted not paying more attention to. Conversing like two normal people. Like Tess and Frank do, only without all the niceness and excitement.

At one point, Bill asks, "Did you see anything you liked?"

It takes a second for Joel to realize he's talking about the room and the shelf. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't a big fan of readin'." A lie, he thinks. "Even that's a stretch. I — probably should've done it more now that I think about it."

Bill's answer is a hum. "Yeah. Lots of things I wish I should've done. Properly. Piano's one of them."

Joel eyes the item in the room. He recalls you and Tess talking about how Frank was lucky to know an instrument. "Frank's good at it, though?"

"He was rustier when he arrived, but yeah — he's doing good now."

Joel admires that. Some things are probably talent, he figures. "Practice's everything. 's why I feel bad for people whose thing was, like, artsy. Y'know?" He lists you and Frank as examples. "They ain't got means to do what they really love now."

That's when Bill shares that Frank paints. Piano and drawn, painted art — that was nice. Frank probably missed a lot of things.

If what you said was true and artists withered without their art like some plants did without sun or water, then he must be sad nowadays.

The new information sparks up a memory. The abandoned art supply on Canbose with 5th Street — was it possible there were some there?

Joel kept the doubts to himself so as to not spark any hopes of things he'd fail to deliver, but the real surprise is that he and Bill have their first conversation there.

It's a nice one.

Joel loathes that his brain comes up with the knowing looks both you and Tess would give him and Bill if either of you saw the way the two men can converse so easily once the guns are gone.

Bill's — he's okay.

Rough around the edges, sure, but in polished, sturdy ways.

He's also a little box of Pandora.

The last thing Joel could expect was being called aside by Bill before he leaves with Tess, only to find him hiding behind the door waiting for him with a furtive air in his stance, as if there could be any secrets that they'd keep from theirs.

Bill extends the copy of Frankenstein without meeting Joel's eyes. "Here." He all but shoves it into Joel's hands, and then nods. "It's the one you kept touching."

There's no reason to play bargain or pretend this is a gift he's too humble to accept.

He does as he's told, thanks Bill with a long nod, and walks out.

It does beat at his mind on the walk back to the QZ, though—had he rambled about you that much?

It seemed impossible—to be fair, he always managed to keep the conversation away from himself, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet.

Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO DAYS LATER

The smell of your apartment envelops him every time.

Everything's open.

You keep plants hung in several places on your wall, and they're all so tall and green. Big, imponent, and your habit of walking through the place and touching one of them, sometimes going as far as plucking a leaf or petal out of them—the air suddenly turned into myrrh, lavender, eucalyptus.

Joel wished he smelled nothing other than here.

"Heard you were feelin' better," Joel says as soon as he has eyes on you.

There's more color on your cheeks. When you smile, Joel sees it reach your eyes even if it remains small in your lips. "Still feel like shit, though."

Tongue sharp as ever, then.

He chuckles and walks in as you move aside in invitation, gaze checking through the apartment as he takes off his shoes.

Joel always pays attention to everything that surrounds you.

While you ask about the trades you missed, he takes note of the spotless state of everything around him. Stainless windows, shiny floor, a sharp citrus scent lingering even around you.

Stress cleaning — check.

"Did you finish the food I gave ya?"

"Of course," you answer. Joel's happy to hear that — you ate very little on the first day you got sick, and he gave you some of his food to make sure you ate.

The two of you take a sit in the kitchen, and as you talk about work, he analyzes you better.

You had your most comfortable clothes on. They came from a box he found not long ago that was your size exactly; the shirt has wet stains on your chest, and your wet hair tells him you felt good enough today for the first time in a while.

Good enough to gather the patience to wash your hair in the sink.

"Don't mind Inoctus, you know he says that shit about the Fireflies all the time. I ain't gonna argue with him again," Joel waves a hand, and then gets to the part he wanted to talk about. "Never mind him, though — did Tess tell you about what Bill and Frank found for us? What Frank fixed?"

"No, not yet."

Excellent. "We've got some good news. Oh — and before I forget. D'you think that art supply on Canbose still has some supplies left?"

"The one that intersects with the 5th?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't see why it wouldn't have," you shrug your shoulders. "It's close enough to the QZ for it not be completely raided and I don't see who would prioritize stealing art supplies in the middle of everything." It made sense to Joel, and he felt a rare sense of giddiness tingling. "Why?"

He leans back on the chair. "Frank's a painter."

"No way."

Joel grins — you understood him. "Yes, way."

"Fucking hell. Is there anything he doesn't do?"

He laughs. "I know. I felt the same way."

"He plays the piano, he should be obliged by law to stick to that cool thing."

Joel likes it when you're feeling a little petty — the scrunch on your nose is adorable. He wants to pinch it between his fingers, even if he never did. "Anyway..." He shares the other updates about the trip to their house without you, then talks about the people who contacted him — the ones that gave him any trouble are your expertise, and Joel loves the set on your brows when you're listening.

He has no idea how someone who looks so precious can have such a wicked mind.

"She looks so — I don't know. Not this ingenious. Mean. How the fuck does someone who's always hummin' songs under her breath can intimate grown-ass man?"

"You're the only fucker who thinks she looks like an angel, Joel."

"Nah, we both know that's a lie."

"No, you're just delusional. If anyone thinks she looks angelic you better bet they're comparing her to Lucifer."

Was he? Delusional.

Tess always made him feel like he was faced with a Truth Mirror whenever he opened his big mouth around her.

After a couple of hours, you've already cooked some things — with the little help he could offer — for the both of you, taken notes of the people you need to talk to.

Joel realizes that time passes only when you.

Outside of your presence, it's all a snowball. Stale.

"Ah, shit." You get up in a rush.

"What?"

"Almost lost the time for my pills again," you mutter under your breath.

"You really need a watch." From where he sits at your kitchen table he can see your profile — the roll of your eyes. He huffs in disbelief, ignoring the feeling of his mouth tugging in the corners.

After you take your med, you sit on the couch and find his gaze from across the room. "Clean the table for me?"

Joel never says no to you.

Not for lack of want — fucking god must know how many times he's craved saying it, enunciating each letter with gusto. No.

It never came out.

He cleans the table thinking about how much he's delaying it.

The book's inside his duffel bag that remained next to your door all this time, but it weighs on his back somehow.

He did more than just clean the table as he tried pushing down the little mean jabs his mind took at itself.

You can't force her to stay outta business.

She ain't never listened to a soul in her life—who are you to tell her what to do?

Once every while, you would venture into Joel's personal space and place a finger where his brows pinched together. The first time it happened, the effect had been immediate—Joel was so shocked by the act that his whole face relaxed; not his body, though. His body froze, and he had stood there in a perfect portrayal of a statue.

You do that when he sits on the couch.

Your presence is so damn familiar to him that even lost in his own mind, he finds his way through the maze. He sits by your side, leans back, and drops his head on the couch.

When he feels your finger touching his frown, Joel opens his eyes.

"What's bothering you?" Your finger leaves, and he misses it.

Joel turns his head to the side. "Nothin'." He likes the way the color's back to your cheeks. A week on anti-inflammatory meds made you a little gray, and nothing about you was dull.

"You're a shit liar," you say.

He scoffs. "No, I'm not."

"You really are, though," you argue, fighting a smile. "And just so you know, your accent gets thicker the harder you try."

At that, he frowns. "No, it doesn't—" and fuck, he hears it. How the fuck did you notice that? His frown deepens, and you chuckle at him. "You pay attention to the strangest fuckin' things." It's said in the same gruff way he says most things, but there's enough admiration underneath it that you hear it for what it is.

"And thank god for that — it's what's kept me alive. Us alive," you snort, giving yourself the credit you're due for once.

In the end, he blurts it out. "I found it."

"Found what?" you ask, truly confused at the abrupt change.

"Something you told me I couldn't."

"That's... oddly vague," you reply. "I name a lot of things you can't find. You seem to think you have superpowers."

"No powers. Just talent." He shrugs, and gets up to retrieve the book. "What's the one thing you told me there was 'no fucking way' I could find?"

The second it takes for your brain to connect the dots is the time Joel needs to find the copy in his bag.

Joel sees your eyes dropping to it when he turns around. Widening. Freezing that way. Your lips parting only a couple of inches as your jaw slowly drops.

He sits with more satisfaction on your couch than he's sat anywhere in a long time.

The book falls with a soft thud between your bodies.

All the space he puts between you two is replaced by it —

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.

"You know what this means, don't you?" he asks.

When you look up, Joel's caught off guard.

The moisture in your eyes shines under the light coming from your kitchen. Joel's throat becomes restricted by an invisible force, and his eyes sting in response to the sight.

"What the fuck, Joel?" your hands pick up the book with a reverence that makes his skin tingle. "Where... how —" both times you start, then stop. "My god." He just watches. You turn the book around, eyeing every millimeter. "This is real," you mutter. He's aware you're not even talking to him at this point. "Have you—" you look up at him, and he feels special enough, "have you opened it? Are the pages—it's whole?"

The way you breathe out the word.

A reverence. So sacred.

Joel might as well consider the bet paid if he wasn't so far gone on what he wants.

Kind of.

"It's whole," he confirms.

Joel almost opens up his mouth to make a teasing remark. Ask if you'd like to be left alone with it, maybe. Instead, he lets you examine it to your heart's will, which takes a while.

He's always comfortable in the silence with you.

That's when he started realizing the trouble he was in.

When he came over just to sit at the same table as you. Have dinner in silence while you cleaned your guns. Sometimes, he'd imagine a bottle of scotch would make the two of you end up in whispered conversations under the dim, yellowish lights of your place, but it never happened.

Joel's too much of a coward to let his guard down with you.

He wouldn't be able to do what he did with the others — a sweet release in the dark; an impersonal match of bodies, mingled in sweat and joined in more ways than it should seem possible, but never looking each other in the eye.

You looked him straight into his soul when you spoke to him. Every time.

"This means... you won the bet," you say.

Joel blinks out of his thoughts. "Sure does."

"So." You put the book down gently on your lap, then gaze at him, eyes piercing into his. "What d'you want?"

Tough question. Joel felt the tingle that never left his skin covering him from head to toe. His throat constricts around the words — his body starts to heat up. He shakes his head, and is overwhelmed by how the air seems to charge between you both. He licks his lips, and says.

Like a coward, his eyes fall on Frankenstein before he speaks.

"Can't have what I want." The naked truth. What's the point of lying to you, anyway? You're a shit liar. "So I'll ask for a close second," he adds quickly. Something magnetic pulls at him, and he looks up — a mistake. Fucking mistake—you never looked at him this way. Is that red on your cheeks? "I — uh; I want a voucher. A veto power."

You blink, utterly confused. "What?"

"A veto power over you." It's the closest he could think of on his way here. Some kind of power, since Joel has no right to demand anything from you. "On a decision. I—If you said you're comin' on a mission, for example. I could say 'no. Veto.' and that'd be it. No arguments. I want a veto card over you. Just one."

You stare at him for a few seconds, and Joel can almost see the engines in your brain turning.

Joel sometimes feels you're more than just yourself. The eyes on your head see far beyond what's in front of them, and he feels naked quite often when in front of you.

"Just tell me what you want," you say.

Can't have what I want, he told you. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

"How would you know?"

"I just do," he argues.

"Maybe you're wrong."

"I'm not!" The storm swirls and lifts him from the couch. Joel turns his back to you, overcome by the reality of it all. "I know I'm not. There isn't—what I want is impossible. There's no such thing anymore. It ain't like the books, or finding fucking chocolate or—it ain't. I wanted you safe. How fuckin' stupid is that—" he chokes on air, gasping around the words. "There's no safe anymore." Softer, and lower, it comes out again. "There's no safe."

Most of the time, Joel's control is kept on a tight leash. His hands have a vicious grip around it because if he loosens it, it'll run off.

His hands are shaking now. He should turn back to face you, to see if he's just said too much or fucked it up somehow, but—you get up. He hears the squeaking of the couch and your steps approaching.

Then, as slowly as you approached him when you first met, he feels it:

Your hands slide around his middle. Your palms spread across his back and contour his waist, and you're hugging him—you hug him from behind, and Joel's chest expands with the air that your presence brings.

"Joel." You hug tighter. He can feel your upper body pressed against his back, and his hands come up to rest on top of yours, shaking as they are. He wants to speak up, but you beat him to it. "I thought I was going crazy, Joel."

Crazy? He is going crazy. You're wrapped around him and the world is yet to implode; Joel feels a knot in his throat that wasn't there before. "Why?"

It hits him — the answer.

Before you're able to say it hits him in the chest, because your hands grip him by the ribcages but not with force; all your fingers need to do is apply gentle pressure on him and Joel feels that you want him to move, so he lets you.

You spin him inside your hold, and Joel goes willingly.

When he's turned and facing you, the answer is there, all over your face.

Your hands stay on his back, but your eyes are searching on every inch of his face for any sign, for anything to deter you from what you want to do.

Joel sees it. He is delusional.

"I want the impossible too," you say. It comes out in a soft whisper, and Joel mentally curses all the moments of silence between you two where he felt the air as palpable as you inside his arms right now. When you looked at him, almost through him, and he turned a blind eye to it in fear that it was exactly what he wanted and craved for. "Is it — too much?"

He's incapable of answering.

His hands come up to your face, and he fits his palm on the set of your jar, where his thumb can touch your cheeks.

You melt to the touch, eyes closing along the way.

All those times you two shared a laugh and a look, and the silence hung in the air as your eyes were unable to leave each other — this. It could've been this.

"Tell me to stop and I will," is all he can say before he dives.

Joel meets you underwater.

The same way you're drowning in his hands with all of your weight supported on his body, Joel submerges as his mouth meets your kiss.

It's a waiting game — you were waiting for the moment he'd realize, he thinks.

Joel may be out of touch with reality itself, but some things can pierce through different dimensions.

Raw things never fail to elicit the strongest form of feeling and your desire pulls him under—real, demanding.

Although he remembers being a vocal partner in bed, he has no words or taunting remarks for you—he'd rather kiss.

Your mouth parts so eagerly for him that Joel wants to shut up.

He has you shutting up, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slides on yours. His fingers grip tighter on your hair. Your arms cling to him, then both of them let go to wrap around his shoulders instead, and Joel feels the despair as you climb up higher, as you press your body harder against him.

He understands it. Empathizes, even — he's feeling it on him the same way.

Your desperate, wet kisses rekindle connections long lost in his brain.

Joel remembers the desperate and insane horniness of youth when hormones mix with inexperience and everything feels new and like a raw, open nerve.

This tastes like those moments.

It'd been so long since Joel was touched and your hands start a mapping of his body that start to get him drunk.

It hits him that it's you. He's kissing you, and you're kissing back with so much force that he has no air, there's no air in his lungs—

He pulls back, gasping, and feels your nails digging into his scalp. The moan scratches the back of his throat and Joel only notices his eyes are still closed when your forehead touches his and your breath starts mingling with his.

Opening his eyes is a blessing. And a curse, most likely.

Seeing your mouth swollen and puffy makes him greedy.

Then — "Are you stopping?" you ask. Hoarse voice. Breathless. "I didn't tell you to stop," you add, whining.

Joel picks you up in one motion, and the laughter that bubbles out of your chest reminds him that you're light — you're the ghost that pops up in his dreams shining with the pink hue of sundown and you're the hope of his mornings, the scent of coffee and pages and herbs that make him feel like this earth could still have a sense of home even if he denies that fact, gritting his teeth at the fact the world still goes on.

He pins you against the nearest wall. One without a shelf, or furniture.

With you pressed against the wall, he has better support. He can trace your thighs with his palm, can get his hands underneath your cotton shorts, your blouse.

"Are you trying to kill me?" you ask him. Your head hits the wall behind you, and Joel looks up to see you watching him as he maps you. You visibly swallow when your gazes meet, and Joel wants to say so fucking much, but nothing comes out at first.

All he wants is to make the pink on your lips become permanent.

He wants to rip every item of clothing on you with his hands, and wants to —

"Joel," you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss and stealing all the images he had of you pinned on your own wooden floor, cheeks pressed against it as he took you from behind.

When your tongue meets his, Joel feels something snapping.

He growls into the kiss, both of his hands groping your asscheeks as he desperately grinds his hips against your body.

This kiss is even better than the first, even if it kills all of his oxygen faster.

Joel never kissed like this. Not this messy, this wet and sloppy mess of need, and dry humping, and swallowing your moans only to have them be echoed back to you when you grind your hips down in the perfect way—

When he pulls back for air this time, Joel grips your head by the hair, making a fistful at your nape.

"This is not just now, is it?" he asks. His own voice sounds like sandpaper and pure lust, and he's not even beginning.

"No, no," you shake your head. "I need you, Joel."

"Fuckin' hell," he has more to say, but now he needs you naked. "'m gonna take off your clothes. Then I'm gonna eat your pussy 'cause I've thought about it too many fuckin' times." Your jaw falls open at him, and Joel smiles despite himself. "Yeah. You gonna let me, baby? Hm?"

Your only answer is to nod desperately, grinding against him as your eyes close.

Joel's in heaven. "Did I win what I want?" he asks.

"What?"

"My veto," he pulls you away from the wall and starts carrying you to your bedroom. "I still want it. Can't have the impossible but I can have a veto."

You laugh as he kicks your door open. "You want a fucking veto? Joel, all you have to do is hold me by the chin and say 'no' or 'yes' and I'd do it. It's that simple. Always have been. " You grab his face between your hands and pierce him with those All Seeing Eyes. "I'll give you your veto, if that's what you want." You kiss his lips, sighing softly. "'m sorry I can't promise you I'll be safe, but I can promise I'll try."

Joel knows he's about to do something that can't be taken back when he lies you down.

He nods just so you know he understood, but the knot's formed again and if he speaks, Joel will cry — the words wouldn't come out anyway, even if he wants to say them.

Joel's unsure if they haven't been burned out of his tongue.

He takes off your clothes one by one. Ironic for someone who wanted them ripped to pieces not a minute ago, but to have you laid in front of him soothes the desperation somehow.

His plans get interrupted, though, because once you're naked and all of his brain is mushed into nothing but skin skin you you touch touch touch, you stop him from kneeling down at the edge of the bed with a touch and one request, "You too?" your gaze is so open and vulnerable that his hands go to his shirt. "No — lemme. Please."

Joel does, and you do the same to him, taking his clothes off one by one.

When you drop to his knees in front of him, Joel is powerless.

He's too stunned to say or do anything but look.

Even his hands that itch to touch only manage to do so when they're flying for some support so his knees don't buckle and he falls — you grab his cock by the base with one hand, look up until his eyes are locked on yours, and then licks a wet stripe from his balls to the tip.

Then you do it again, and again, until Joel's coated in saliva, and you can suck around the tip, swallowing him down in one go.

He grips your hair for life support, cursing under his breath.

Joel's vocal about how much you're fucking killing him.

You go at it slowly, which is even more torture, but he gets it. He remembers you talking about not being with a person for the longest time. How it made no difference for you to have the physical or not because the attraction wasn't there unless there something underneath it — for someone who's out of practice, you must have the knowledge.

Your tongue runs on the sensitive skin between the dick and his balls, your mouth suctions when it's taking him down and when you start bobbing your head, using your hand to cover the parts your mouth can't reach, Joel has to physically pull you back.

"Stop, stop —" his hand on your hair pulls you back, and Joel curses again when you whine at having to let go. "'m gonna fuck you, baby, it's okay, 's okay," he gets you up by the neck, and is kissing you right after.

That's how he falls in bed with you — with his cock leaking pre-cum, his back already coated in sweat and your mouth tasting like him.

Joel eases the fall with his hand, not wanting to crush you with his weight. He wants to eat you out — Joel wants to bury his face in you, but when he makes a move to go down, your legs clamp around his waist and your head starts shaking.

You pull back from his kiss, "No — later, you can do that later, just — please," you guide your hand between your bodies to hold him and guide his cock to your entrance. "Waited too long, Joel."

I need you, Joel.

"Wait, wait — " it'll be over too fast if he sees you all the time. Joel has an idea. "A position that's better for you first. I wanna see you too, but I want you to feel good. Turn around for me."

"You want me on all fours?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just turn around."

You obey him, and Joel grabs one of your pillows to push under your waist. You rest your cheek on the one under your head, and he positions himself first before crowding your space with his head on the crook of your neck.

He dips his fingers in first, spreading your wetness all over you before lining up.

It's sinful how good the position is.

He fills you up, bottoming all the way out. Joel's thick, but not too long, and he knows this angle is as good for you as it is for him. "Feels good?" he asks in your ear.

Your only response is his name.

"Is that a yes?" he pulls all the way out, and slams it back in, wanting to feel the drag. Wanting to feel your walls clamping around him. How you open up to accommodate all of him. "'Cause you feel like — fuckin' heaven, baby — louder, say it louder —"

"Feels amazing, Joel," you cry.

He knows it does. Joel hasn't felt anything remotely close to pleasure in a long time, so this might be too much, he might be in danger of growing an addiction, but he's past caring.

He drags it out.

Joel wanted to fuck you senseless a while ago, but now all he wants is to stay buried in the tight and warm haven of your cunt until you're both too spent to move a muscle. "'m gonna stay — all fuckin' night — inside you, baby — hm, whaddaya think?"

"Yes, please—"

"God, I love — that's all you can say to me."

"Don't stop," you cry out louder.

"I won't." He couldn't.

He doesn't want to. He doesn't.

Joel thrusts into you slow, measured and deep, until the heat in his groin is climbing like your nails digging at his sides. He loses count of how many times he sucks on your shoulders, how many bite marks you must have on your neck, of how many single-worded compliments he spills in your ears as he fucks the words out of you.

When you beg to cum, Joel flips you over and hoists your leg higher so he can go in deeper, and he fucks you the way you've been begging him to — crying around his fingers for harder, and faster, Joel, please, please, I'm not gonna break —

He gives it to you like both of you have been dying to receive, and when your legs start shaking around him and his name drops from your lips in a scream, Joel pulls out, coating your stomach in the hot strings of his cum.

He doesn't collapse on top of you, which is a miracle.

He does lay strategically next to you in order to avoid his own mess until he's able to feel his legs again.

Your fingers thread his hair during that time.

The spasms of your legs make him smile, and the little hums that leave you without you even realizing make Joel float on his bliss.

When he comes back to himself, he gets up to get a warm towel. He cleans you both, just enough so sleeping is okay. He pulls up the duvet and puts you underneath it before climbing under as well.

When he lays, Joel expects you to turn around;

Instead, you wrap around him in octopus style, and whisper, "Turn around."

He obeys, and is rewarded by you spooning him.

Joel thinks he might be dreaming.

"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" you ask after a while.

Your bodies are as tangled as they can be. Your hands caress the hairs on his chest and your breath is on his neck, and still, you are stared he'll leave.

"D'you want scrambled eggs or you prefer the toast?" he replies.

There's a kiss on his neck. Another on his shoulder. He grabs one of your hand to pull it to his lips, and kisses it.

"Scrambled."

"'kay. Where d'you keep your sugar? I can never find it."

"I'll show you tomorrow," you kiss his shoulder, and squeeze his body. "Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

He can feel your smile because your lips are on his skin. He's gonna use that more, he thinks. "I might wake up rubbing myself all over you," you whisper.

He laughs. "Fine by me."

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖

⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back, you know... or what you thought of this one.. just saying... <3

#usernexusnyx #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #nightskychallenge #joel miller fanfiction

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kurocamille · 4 months

Text

❝maybe frat boys aren’t so bad (aka miscommunication leads to makeup sex?!) ❞

Frat!Bakugou Katsuki x reader (second part of my frat!Bakugou series) mdni

part 1 / master list

5.3k+ words

after your hookup with Bakugou, somehow everyone knows. this means that you’re on mean girl Mika’s watchlist and that you’ll have to distance yourself from him. however, Bakugou gets it in his head that you don’t want to be with him, and when he sees you with Kirishima, he doesn’t think you’ll ever let him back in your life (or your bed). Turns out it was all just miscommunication…

warnings

part 2 of 2, jealous Bakugou, miscommunication trope, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, blow job, making out, hickeys, he bites you once?, penis in vagina sex, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, female/afab reader, creampie, “baby” as a pet name

It had been exactly one week since your night with Bakugou Katsuki. As you had expected, rumours about the two of you had reached far across campus in no time. After all, Bakugou is very popular.

Unfortunately, the result of this rumour was that everyone knew what happened… including Mika and her minions. So, last week, instead of waking up to an expected empty phone, it was instead alive with thousands of nasty messages.

When you opened them, the bulk of the message spam followed the same pattern. ‘You’re such a whore,” or “I can’t believe you’d steal Bakugou from Mika, you bitch,’ or, at worst, from the culprit herself, ‘I heard you got with Bakugou. If you think you can take him from me, you’re wrong. I’ve got loads of people who can fuck you up.’

Obviously feeling threatened, because only the lord knows what Mika can do with her money and power, you had chickened out and never replied to Bakugou’s message. No matter how much you wanted to see him again, it was not worth the damage Mika would inflict.

—-

Now, after seven days have gone by, all spent avoiding Bakugou like the plague, you finally think you can go to class and fly under the radar. You arrive on time as usual, sitting in the middle row of the lecture hall.

It’s a massive class, and although many people are already there, there are others filing in as the prof starts their lesson. You, being too engrossed in your note taking, don’t notice as a body slides into the empty seat beside you.

“Hey, what did I miss?” the voice says in a hushed tone.

You look up and see none other than Bakugou Katsuki, still very much blond and still very much attractive. Instead of replying you turn back to your notebook, tearing off a piece and quickly scribbling a message down.

You slip the note reading, ‘Literally nothing, pay attention during class!’ into Bakugou’s waiting hand. He huffs and attempts to speak to you again, but you face your paper and ignore whatever he’s saying.

“Please be quiet up there!” The professor calls him out, and he slouches down in his seat, begging for class to end.

After everyone finally gets dismissed, Bakugou tries to poke your shoulder to get your attention, but you’re already dashing out the door, praying that nobody saw you together.

“Wait, Y/N,” Bakugou calls for you, jogging to catch up to you. Damn him for having such long legs…

“Sorry, I can’t talk to you,” you reply. It comes out more harshly than expected, but no sense in trying to chummy up to him again if Mika was threatening you. So, you turn on your heel to leave him again.

“Just hear me out,” he blurts out, lightly grabbing your shoulder to make you face him.

You don’t move, instead you stand there with your hands on your hips, waiting for him to continue.

Finally, he gets the hint and speaks again. “I’m sorry if it was bad for you…”

What?! “It wasn’t bad for me, it’s just–”

“No, it’s okay if you don’t want to see me again, but I’d rather you tell it to me now, to my face,” he interrupts you mid sentence.

Ha, you think, Ironic that the frat boy doesn’t want to get ghosted, but as you had realized much longer before this, Bakugou is not your average frat boy. Although he looks like a pretty boy with no space for a committed relationship, he has much more depth than you could even imagine. Despite being a flirt and allegedly a playboy, Bakugou had only ever treated you with respect, so you suppose you at least owe him this one conversation.

“Bakugou,” you start, unsure of how to follow through to your point. “It wasn’t bad. If anything it was too good. I just– I just can’t afford to be seen with you.”

A hurt look flashes through Bakugou’s eyes before he gives a slow nod of understanding. “I get it, you don’t want to be with a guy like me. It’s alright, guess I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Wait, that’s not–” you start, but Bakugou is already walking away with his hands stuff in his pockets.

You stand in the middle of the busy hallway for a good few seconds before you hear a giggle that breaks you out of your daze. It’s Mika, she’s leaning on the wall we chatting to her friends.

“She’s almost as much of a player as Katsuki is,” she says to her friends in what she pretends is a whisper, but you know she wants you to hear.

“Yeah, but at least he’s good in bed. She seems like the desperate type.” All of them burst out into a fit of giggles. Y walk off, not even bothering to hear the rest of the conversation.

—

A month later, you haven’t heard from Bakugou at all, his one lone message still sits in your inbox, unanswered. You can’t help but be a little upset knowing it could’ve happened if not for the circumstances. It doesn’t matter, though, as far as you know Bakugou got back with Mika for a bit, dumped her, and is now moving through girls like a snowplough.

You’re sitting in a cafe when somebody plops down in the booth in front of you. He seems to recognize you, but you can’t fully place his fiery red hair and toothy grin. “Hey, Y/N, right?”

You furrow your brows. “Who’s asking?”

He laughs heartily at your question. “Sorry, I thought you might remember me. I’m Kirishima Eijiro. I was at that party a few weeks ago.”

Looking down, you see him offer a hand, which you shake quickly before placing your hands back in your lap. Even though the issue with Bakugou and Mika had blown over, and you had fallen back into your mundane life, you were still trying to avoid anything “boys and Bakugou” related.

“Well, I’ve been having some concerns about my buddy,” he thinks out loud.

“Are you really certain I could do anything about this?” you reply hastily. Maybe you shouldn't have said that so soon.

“That’s the thing,” Kirishima replies. “I’m not tryna blame you or anything, but I think you might be causing some… altercations… in his sex life.”

You smack your hands down on the table, catching the attention of surrounding customers. “What?!” You sink back down after receiving a glare from a neighbouring table.

“I didn’t mean that it was bad!” Kirishima speaks for you as you drown in embarrassment.

“Sorry, you kind of implied it though.” The flush on your cheeks doesn’t dissipate.

“Right, actually, moreso the opposite. You might’ve heard Bakugou’s been sleeping around a lot. He and Mika are officially over this time. I’m not going to tell you why, but what matters is that he’s been trying to make up for losing you, at least I think,” Kirishima spills.

You make a non-coherent splutter, but Kirishima doesn’t let you reply. “I tried to tell him this was all about Mika and her stupid followers, but he’s not into socials, and he’s stubborn as hell, anyway. He believes you’re avoiding him because of his reputation, but you’ve gotta help me. He’s been insufferable lately, and even as a member of our frat, the number of girls he’s been with is getting slightly concerning.”

Kirishima looks at you with begging eyes, and you know it’s serious if he came to see you. You look down at your lap, your heart racing with confusion and anxiety.

“I’m sorry, but how can you be so certain? I’d like to help, really, but I’m not sure where I come in,” you say slowly.

“Call him or something. Give him some closure, and let him know it isn’t because of his “player” mentality or whatever he’s got stuck in his head.” Kirishima gets up and places a bill down to pay for your food.

Just then, a familiar figure passes by and notices you through the window. You’re too wrapped up in your conversation with Kirishima to notice the way they ball their fists and huff away.

“Thanks. Hope to see you around.” Kirishima leaves you sitting there confused.

You sit there in awe at the conversation. Why are you supposed to care about Bakugou’s overactive libido anyway?

Sighing, you stare at your empty cup and decide to leave the cafe. It turns out it’s just starting to rain when you trudge back to your dorms, and you get drenched.

—

That night, you lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. Thoughts of Bakugou continue to invade your mind, and you hear yourself groaning in annoyance.

Maybe I should call him, you think. But, ugh, that’s kind of weird and pathetic.

However, the more you think about it, and him, the more your thoughts start to go back to your night in his car. You remember how it felt to have his big hands on your body, how they felt inside your–

You stop that thought before it can progress.

Again, you let your mind wander. If you think about it, if you actually wanted him again, would it really be fixing his libido? If it benefited both of you, it couldn’t be that awful to call him again.

Nevermind, you’re just thinking too much. How could you even consider it?!

Just go to bed, you beg yourself.

You stare up at the ceiling until your eyes blur out of focus, but somehow, somehow, everything leads back to him.

Flushing, you try not to think about his adept fingers moving in and out of you. Slowly, your panties get wetter and wetter, and you realize that the only way you’re ever going to get over him is by getting under him.

Finally, you decide to roll over and give in to your desires. The glow of your phone screen is glaringly bright, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. When things come into focus, you unlock your phone and click on Bakugou’s number before you lose confidence

“Hello?” Bakugou’s raspy voice answers after five rings.

“Hey, Bakugou,” you whisper. “I wanted to tell you something. Don’t hang up, please.”

“Okay,” he yawns.

“Kirishima came to me today. Can we talk this over or something?”

“We are talking. And I know. I saw” is his gritted reply.

“You’re right, I’m in no place to be asking for anything. I’m sorry. I just need to talk to you in person. I need to get something off of my chest.”

“Oh, something? Or, somebody… like, Shittyhair?!” he practically seethes through the phone.

“Wait, what?!” you yelp.

“Why are you even calling me over if you’re with him.”

“What?” you repeat yourself. “I’m not with him?”

“You literally just said you saw him today,” he argues.

“That’s what I was calling about. He sai–” you start.

“If you’re coming to me with your boy problems, hang up.” You can tell he’s on the verge of leaving.

“No!” you huff madly. “If you’d let me finish, you’d know that he came to tell me he’s worried about you.”

“Oh, really? Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been fucking, since apparently I wasn’t good enough for you, or whatever,” he replies angrily.

“I swear, Bakugou,” you sigh. “I haven’t been with anyone since our night together.

Bakugou pauses before replying. “I don’t fully believe you. Especially when you just gave me proof you went out together”

You blush as you speak your next words, admitting something to him you thought would happen under different circumstances.

“I haven’t been with him, and I swear it, because…” you hesitate. “I’ve only ever been with you.

A sharp breath is blown out on Bakugou’s end, and you wonder what’s going through his mind.

“Seriously?” His breaths are suddenly slower and calmer.

“Yeah, I swear. Can I just talk to you in person? I really do need to tell you.”

Bakugou makes a slight shuffling noise on his end, and you hear someone’s murmuring in the background, likely one of his frat brothers.

“Fine. You want me to come to you?” he finally replies, giving in (almost too easily, in your eyes).

“Yes, please,” you reply quietly.

“I’ll be there soon.” With that, he hangs up.

After the same short drive from last time, Bakugou shows up in your dorm parking lot. He shoots you a text message that he’s here, and you greet him at the door.

It’s about one am, and despite your disheveled tank top and shorts, Bakugou is dressed as handsomely as ever. “Hi,” you say.

“Hi.” He gives you a sad smile in return.

“I want to apologize.” You bow your head shyly. “It was my fault for all the confusion. I should’ve told you what was up. I just didn’t want to mess up my chances with you or your relationship with Mika. Kirishima told me about everything that’s been happening.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, too,” he replies.

You look up in surprise. Altogether, pathetically, you had expected more grovelling, so this is unexpected.

“It was all Mika’s fault, anyway, and I promise things are over with us,” he says, his face pink with embarrassment. “And… I guess I could say that my judgement of you and Shitty hair was a little preemptive.”

“You think?” you laugh quietly.

“I really am sorry, okay.” He looks up at you and deep into your eyes to solidify his point.

Your face feels hot, and you’re sure he can see the growing blush across your cheeks. Even so, you smile and say, “So, are we good?”

“Yeah,” he replies, returning your smile.

There’s a long pause between the two of you, but it doesn’t feel awkward like you might expect. The gap between you feels like it’s closing, and eventually your lips are just barely touching. His breath fans over your face, and you grip his shirt, taking him in a kiss.

Bakugou holds you to him, his back pressed against the door of your dorm. When you slip your tongue against his, he doesn't decline. He gingerly holds you, squeezes your hip with one hand, and cups your face with the other.

“I don’t deserve you,” you sigh as Bakugou starts to pepper kisses all over your neck.

“You do, it’s me that doesn’t deserve you.” He moves your face so your gazes can meet.

Bakugou gives you one of his signature grins and catches you in another heated kiss. His tongue swiftly swipes across yours, causing you to moan in his hold.

When he changes the angle of kiss, you become entangled, your hips pressed flush against his, earning his groans in your ear. With his newly growing boner and your wettening panties, you feel unbearable lust growing.

“Can we go upstairs?” Bakugou asks.

You nod, keying yourselves in and rushing to your room that’s right around the corner.

As soon as the door opens a mere inch, Bakugou jumps back on you and pushes you down to the bed, a haze of desire over his eyes.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” He nips on your neck.

You can only moan in response when he kisses down your chest. Pulling your tank top over head, Bakugou, or Katsuki, you suppose, focuses his attention on your chest. Your body stiffens as he glides his tongue over your hard nipple..

“That feel good?” he asks when he pinches the other nipple while continuing to lick long stripes on your breast.

“Yeah,” you hum in reply.

You feel so good under Bakugou, writhing in pleasure as he sucks hickeys into your skin. You feel his hand sneak up to the top of your waistband and you yelp in surprise. “Ah! Katsuki”

“Can I continue what I started last time?” he says in a begging tone, lightly tugging at your panties.

“Please,” you moan equally as wanton as him, and you’re almost immediately spread bare for him.

Kissing down your chest, Bakugou gets spurred on by your moans. He gives your clit the sensation it's been craving. Slowly, pressure is added to the bundle of nerves, and you feel yourself seeping down onto your sheets.

When he sees your glistening pussy, he laughs, “So wet again, baby, and I’ve barely even touched you here.”

“I was getting wet thinking about you earlier,” you mumble into the back of your hand.

“Good.” He smiles. “Don’t think about other guys from now on, you’re all for me.”

There’s no time to reply in shock because Katsuki dips into your depths, swiping up and down your wetness. One finger slips inside smoothly, moving in and out with ease.

Testing it out, Katsuki moves down to your sex and adds his mouth to the mix. This new feeling sets your body on fire. What he’s doing to your body is more than anything you’ve ever experienced, and your core tightens uncontrollably.

“Wait, ah!” you cry out, but Bakugou doesn’t relent. Instead, he adds another finger and curls it into your g-spot.

Working in and out of your cunt, you feel yourself squeezing around his fingers. The feeling of his strong fingers moving inside of you and his lips sucking on your throbbing clit brings you to your limit embarrassingly quickly. You can’t find it in yourself to care, though, because it just feels so good.

With one last strangled moan, you cum, the pleasure sending you over the edge. You tingle all over post orgasm and feel your eyes slip into the back of your head for a second. As Bakugou continues to finger you, your body lifts off the bed into his mouth.

Then, suddenly, you feel something else coming. Something that you feel coming upon you just as fast as your orgasm. You try to sit up and stop Bakugou, but his hand keeps you pinned to the bed. The overstimulation on your body creeps up on you, and there’s a new pain that accompanies your pleasure, adding to your second high.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out when Katsuki switches his fingers for his mouth.

Nimble fingers swirl circles on your clit as his tongue darts out to meet your pussy. It licks up and down, teasing your entrance with the occasional poke inside. And, when you’re least expecting it, it finally slides to your hole, working on thrusting as far into your depths as you can.

This feeling is incredible, and the way Bakugou groans into your pussy drives you mad. Feeling the finger leaving your clit, you whine, but it’s replaced with his tongue again. This time, his tongue switches between your folds and you clit, stimulating every inch of your already twitching sex.

“You’re so good, baby. Love this so much,” Katsuki murmurs when he lifts off of you for a moment.

“Kiss me, and let me touch you, too,” you moan, bringing his face to yours.

You aren’t bothered by the fact that he was just eating you out when you start dipping into each other’s mouths. If anything, the look in Bakugou’s eye tells you it turns him on more. The genuinely lewd look of his tousled hair and wide pupils raises your heartrate so high you can feel it beat inside your chest.

Absent-mindedly, you fumble with the buttons on Bakugou’s jeans. He helps you by leaning back and pulling his shirt over his head. You don’t miss the way his muscles flex and the way he flaunts his abs.

Then, with a quick tug, Bakugou’s pants and boxers slide off. His dick stands proudly, pretty and thick as ever. You place your hand on it like you did last time. He responds well to your touch and groans lewdly when you give it a squeeze.

You slick your palm with spit, and Bakugou helps guide your hand back to his leaking cock. Together, with his hand wrapped around yours, you move on his member, fingers trailing along the prominent vein down the front.

Once you’ve built up a rhythm, you meet Katsuki’s tender gaze. The red of his irises disappear as his eyes flutter shut. He leans forward and recaptures your mouth in a slow but sloppy makeout.

You twist your hand on Bakugou eliciting a breathy moan from him. He twitches in your hand signalling his impending orgasm.

“Can I cum in your mouth?” His mouth is by your ear, moaning and releasing hot breaths to spur you on.

You freeze, and your motions stop. Bakugou notices your alarm and moves to look directly in your eyes. “You don’t have to– I would never force you.”

“No.” you shake your head. “It’s just that I’ve never done that.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen in shock temporarily then fall back. “You want me to teach you tonight, baby?”

You bite your lip meekly and nod your head. Bakugou grins in return, helping you down to his crotch. As you come face to face with his cock, it twitches releasing some precum out of the slit.

“Just put your lips on it. Do what feels right,” he says and pulls your hair into his hands.

You kiss his member just like you would his lips. The wet noises coming from your mouth are so loud and such a turn on for Bakugou. His grip on your head tightens, and he has to force himself not to push you down.

Bakugou hisses when you place the tip in your mouth and give it a hard suck. Wanting to please him even more, you take more of him deeply in your throat. At this point you feel impaled by his large dick with your nose just a few inches from his groin.

Despite your struggle to take him in entirety, Bakugou doesn’t notice and instead groans every time you slide down on him. You gag frequently, and you’re more than certain your teeth have grazed his shaft multiple times, but Bakugou acts like this is the best head he’s ever received.

The longer you go, the more moans fall out of his open lips. His head tilts back when you curiously brush a finger down his balls. He’s much more sensitive than you imagined he would be, and his hips thrust up uncontrollably.

“Fuck, sorry,” he groans, he pulls you off of him to check if you’re okay.

“It’s alright.” You lick him one last time. “Do you think we could maybe go all the way?”

Bakugou blinks at you wordlessly. Then, after about a minute of silence, and worry, on your part, he replies. “You mean, can I take your virginity?”

You hum in reply, and Bakugou throws you back to the middle of the bed

“I left the condoms in my car,” he realizes aloud.

“That’s okay,” you whisper in his ear as seductively as you can. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, okay.” Bakugou acts like your response is the sexiest thing ever.

He leans down and kisses your neck one last time. You feel his cock against your stomach leaving a hot trail of precum on your skin. Everything about this moment is hot, but you can’t take his slow kisses any longer. You need him inside of you, thrusting deep into your core.

Just when you’re about to take matters into your own hands, Bakugou leans forward and brings himself to your entrance. It is at this moment that you realize how big he is, and that he’s going to try to fit that entire thing inside of you.

You let out a deep breath when he finally slips inside. The stretch is rough, his cock prodding your most intimate crevices. As he inches into your depths, he grasps onto your hand, pulling you to him in a surprisingly romantic way.

The way Bakugou moves within you is gentle, far softer than he was when he ate you out. You can only assume he wants your first time to be soft and sweet. He grips softly at your waist, slowly moving in and out. When your eyes meet, you give him a sweet smile and a nod, hoping he’ll move a little faster.

He takes the hint well, and suddenly Katsuki leans over you, your hands meeting his hardened chest. You jolt with both pain and pleasure after the first deep thrust. Then, as he pumps his cock more and more, you feel the pain fading away, the stretch to accommodate becoming pleasant.

After Bakugou notices your growing comfort, he goes ahead with pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in. Differently from before, you can feel him even deeper, and your body arches to meet him when your groins come together.

Swiftly, Katsuki moves you from your back to a position where you’re sitting on his lap. The sensation of him thrusting up into you makes your toes curl and loud moans to fall from your lips. In turn, Katsuki groans and continues to rut his hips like it’s his sole mission.

“You tighten up when I’m in you like this, did you know?” Katsuki groans in your ear, his hot breath hits your skin and makes you shiver.

The feeling in your cunt overwhelms you, but it’s so good, and you know now you won’t be able to get enough. Meeting Bakugou’s thrusts, you attempt to ride him, earning deep groans in return. Bakugou screws his eyes shut and allows you to move opposite to his thrusts. With the constant movement, and the occasional brush against your pleasure spot, your cunt tightens further.

Bakugou grips your ass with his large hands, wanting to feel your insides constrict even further. Unbeknownst to you, this is his first time going raw, and it’s making him cum like it’s his first time, too. So, unashamedly chasing your highs, you grind against each other as fervently as you can.

The air in the room is hot, but the heat in between your bodies as you ride him is far hotter. Both of you elicit loud noises from the other, your neighbours probably hearing your moans through the wall. Normally something like this would embarrass you to no end, but Bakugou’s fucking you so well that you feel you inhibitions melt away along with your innocence.

The coil in your stomach twists, and you feel your high coming. However, Bakugou stops short and leaves you bouncing on him by yourself. After only a split second of confusion, Bakugou slaps your ass, leaning back into a pillow.

“Want me to ride you?” you breathlessly say, attempting to make your voice sultry and not actually inquisitive.

It fails, but Bakugou doesn’t make any visible notice. Instead, he grunts out a quiet ‘yeah, please’ and grips your flesh, moving you against him. The pleasure of having him grind you on him does wonders for your pussy, and the new angle he’s hitting you at has you seeing stars.

Unlike before, Bakugou’s cock hits your g-spot every time now that you're fully riding him. The new feeling sends waves of heat to your stomach, quickly pushing you towards the edge.

Katsuki had been holding out strongly for a while, but as soon as he leaned back and let you ride, he was pretty much done for.

He feels himself unable to control his orgasm, which is creeping up way too fast. You don’t mind, though, as you’re equally as close. When you feel his dick twitching deep inside you, balls contracting and signalling his release, your cunt tightens more than it ever has before.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Bakugou grips your ass and pushes himself up so he can thrust again.

You, on the other hand, yelp in surprise at him readjusting your position, moaning uncontrollably as he goes so deep you think he’s hitting your cervix. You fantasize about how Katsuki slips in and out of you with ease, balls coming up to hit your ass, which unknowingly makes you milk his cock harder.

With a surprising bite to your neck, Bakugou thrusts into you one last time, and calls out your name.

The spurts of cum he makes into your pussy have you cumming on the spot, as well. Both of you moan as you reach your highs together, Bakugou trying to quell his own by pressing his hot mouth to your skin.

“Katsuki!” you cry one last time, slumping forward onto his shoulder.

Neither of you have ever felt this good—you especially, never having thought your first time would be this wild. But Bakugou surprises you with his sexual prowess, and has you basking in a hazy afterglow, one that you won’t forget anytime soon.

You blissfully gaze at him as he continues to thrust ever so slowly, milking out your orgasmatic pleasure.

His eyes are half-lidded, yet you know he’s still very alert of your bodies. Then, he, for the first time since he penetrated you, lets go of your body for a split second, and you miss the warmth of his hands, but you’re quickly satisfied by him going to grab your waist.

Bakugou effortlessly pulls you off of his body, his heavy breathing, muscled chest catching your attention. The genuine ‘splurt’ that comes from between you two when he unsheathes himself makes you blush and awkwardly chuckle in embarrassment, but Bakugou stares amazedly at your pulsating cunt.

You try to cover yourself, despite the fact that he’d seen it all before, but his hand pries your legs apart and dives towards your pussy.

“Wait,” you abruptly say, hoping he’s not already wanting more.

“Hmm?” he hums, curiously drawing a finger down your slit.

“I’m not sure I can go again.” You look at him as he dips his fingers into you ever so slightly.

Instead of replying, Bakugou sets your nerves on fire with his feathery touches. Then, when you look down, you see what’s caught his attention. It’s his milky white cum thatleaks out of your hole and onto your dark bedspread.

“Katsuki, I’m so sensitive. Am I supposed to be able to go again?” You stop his hand’s movement with your own.

“Oh, nah, sorry, baby. You were so good, I forgot you were a virgin.” He grins at you, and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks

He finally takes his hand off of your body and mumbles something about going to get something to clean you up.

“Ah, wait!” You stumble after him, your limbs too sore to hold you up properly. “Let me find something for you.”

You meet Bakugou in your ensuite where he’s already holding a towel. From the doorway, you take a step forward, but your knees buckle and you fall right into his arms.

“It was that good, huh?” he jokes, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Nuh uh,” you counter, but your wobbly legs betray your words.

He chuckles in response and sets you down on the counter, the cold surface strikingly frigid against your burning flesh. He gently pats you down with the towel, making sure his cum is wiped clean from your skin.

“All done,” he says once he’s finished wiping all your skin down.

You go to thank him, but stop when you notice yourself in the mirror. Bruises litter your neck and even your chest. When did those get there? you think to yourself.

“Oh my god, Katsuki!” You go to playfully punch him, but he catches your hand in his.

Placing one hand on your waist and the other on your chin, angling your head towards his, he places a chaste kiss on your lips.

Then, when he pulls away, a goofy grin breaks out onto his pretty face. “Oh my god, Katsuki? That’s what you’ll be saying next time.”

Your face bursts into flames, and Bakugou chuckles, holding you for a moment in your dim bathroom light. “So, when’s next time?”

a/n: hi guys!! i’m back with part 2. i’d love it if some of you sent prompts to my inbox or even commissioned me because i tried extra hard to finish this promptly 😃

tags @oldfruitloop @mimi53213 @cheyehc

#bnha smut #anime smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha smut #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia smut #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou smut #anime fanfic

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lueurjun · 1 year

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- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.

⋮ — 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖽𝗒!𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾 : the both of you are extreme sappy simps that just can’t get enough of each other.

one thing is for certain: heeseung didn��t ask you out. a younger boy he hangs out with named riki did

if we’re getting into specifics, heeseung had been crushing on you for well over two years and he managed to keep it tight lipped

well, if you could call everyone knowing but you tight lipped

it was a known fact between all of your peers that heeseung was crushing on you — but for some reason, you didn’t realize

now i’m not calling you dumb but for the sake of the plot, you’re dumb

you had absolutely no idea that heeseung liked you

not even when he blurted it out to you during gym class six months ago

how? well you assumed he meant as a friend

the poor boy was crushed when you ushered out the words ‘i like you too! you’re such a good friend’

like i said dumb but it’s okay heeseung is too, perfect match if you ask me

anyways heeseung wanted the ground to swallow him whole whilst the rest of the class just stared at him in pity

it was really embarrassing, jay had to leave the class for a few minutes to recover

whereas you didn’t see anything wrong with the interaction and went back to what you was doing blissfully unaware of the turmoil you just caused

anyway fast forward to a week later and niki is fed up

all the poor boy wanted to do was play basketball with his hyung but he couldn’t and you wanna know why he couldn’t?

because heeseung wouldn’t stop whining about you

so he took it into his own hands

imagine the absolute horror heeseung faced when niki showed him the text he had sent you off of heeseung’s phone

i’m in love with you. pls date me

“you make me sound desperate!”

“you are desperate.”

heeseung felt like he was going to vomit when your name flashed up on his phone screen indicating that you were calling him

he tried to ignore it

niki answered it and threw it at him

“absolutely not—no. niki—heyyy y/n… what’s up? sun is lovely, very warm!”

“it’s 9pm heeseung.”

much to heeseung’s joy

and niki’s relief

you didn’t brutally reject him like they both had been expecting

in fact, you asked him out on a date

“you—me?—us?”

niki had to yank the phone from him and agree to it for him before he passed out

fast forward to now and the two of you have been together for almost six months

you’re both as sickeningly disgusting as each other

you insist on wearing matching jewellery

jay wanted to gauge his own eyeballs out when he saw the matching necklaces

“you’re both gross. i hate it. break up.”

“don’t hate us because you aren’t in love like us.”

even after six months heeseung can’t believe that you’re his.

like the idea is insane to him.

“are you okay?”

“pardon?”

“like why me? are you like alright? you’re too perfect for me. i don’t deserve you.”

that usually calls for a lot of kisses assuring him that he’s more than deserving of you

and you’ll fight anyone — including him — who says otherwise

being so popular, you tend to get quite a lot of attention which can lead to a little bit of jealousy on his part

but you always know when he is feeling a little threatened

“why are you pouting like that?”

he’s not even looking at you, hands pressed firmly to your waist with his gaze over your head

admittedly, he looks hot and you can’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to his chin which seems to pull him from his angry state and back to your fluffy, shy boyfriend

his ears go bright red

“did you say something?”

“i love you so much”

thee confession strides of off your tongue with ease, and the trail it leaves tastes sweet

and then heeseung grins.

“i love you more.”

#thiswasrushed #plsdontjudgeitried #lee heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen as your boyfriend #heeseung fics #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung

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antisocialties · 11 months

Text

Hawaii.

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: in which the reader is chris’s best friend and goes to Hawaii with the triplets and madi but chris confesses his feelings when they’re alone on the beach.

Warnings: as always profanity is used, reader is for sure female in this one bc it was written for my close friend! happy birthday cayse!! <3

You couldn’t get over the beautiful sun and the pretty clear blue water.

It almost felt like you were in a movie.

“You good?” chris asked you from the water.

You and madi were comfortably sat in beach chairs under an umbrella because you were both literally being cooked by the sun.

“Yes, i’m great.” you laughed, sending him a grin.

He laughed in response walking up to the shore and towards your chair.

“Did you wanna get in with me?”

You were honestly baking in the rays of the sun and were completely ready to get into the water, you were just anxious as per usual.

“Yeah, it’s really hot over here.” You laughed, getting up to stand next to him.

“Did you want to come?” You turned around asking madi.

“No i’m gonna keep tanning for now.”

You nodded, walking towards Chris.

“C’mon, I don’t even know how you lasted this long, i’ve been roasting.” Chris chuckled, grabbing your hand and leading you to the water.

You watched in awe as the crystal clear blue waves washed over your legs and upon the shore.

You silently admired nic and matt splashing around in the water a few feet away, and madi soaking up the sun, still in her chair.

“It’s so pretty out here.” You gushed, turning to your side and looking up at chris with your squinted eyes.

“Honestly I haven’t ever seen a beach this pretty, i’m so glad you agreed to come. I would’ve been so bored without you, y/n.” chris spoke.

“Are you joking? it’s been one of my dreams to come here, I can’t even believe madi asked me to come!” You smiled at him.

“I don’t think any of us would want to be here without you, are you kidding? You’re so fun. Madi loves you, and you’re honestly my emotional support friend so I couldn’t have come without you.” Chris spilled, sending you a genuine smile.

“I’m glad, you’re mine too.” You blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice the color change on your cheeks.

“Have you ever thought about maybe being more than friends?” He blurted quietly, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“You mean like, us?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Definitely have, I just know in the past you’ve said you weren’t really ready to commit to anyone.” You spoke softly, meeting his eyes that were currently squinting due to the sun.

“Well you aren’t just anyone, so…”

You felt a smirk pull on your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” You snickered.

You noticed his cheeks instantly get 2 shades pinker than they already were.

“I mean, Yeah. I just said that.” He chuckled, looking away at the approaching waves.

You moved closer to him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“So was that you trying to ask me out?”

“Uh yeah, that’s kinda all I had as a proposal to that idea.” He laughed, turning to meet your eyes once again.

“Well then yes chris, i’ll be your girlfriend.” You grinned, picking up his and and walking further into the water.

You both comfortably enjoyed the silence, and you could feel his hand sweating before you guys hit water that went above your waist.

“So how much do you wanna bet they’ve been watching the whole time?” He questioned, referring to his brothers and madi that weren’t too far behind you.

You looked back, noticing the lot of them wearing shit eating grins staring directly at chris and yourself.

You waved as a giggle made it’s way out of your mouth.

Chris copied your actions, following it up with flipping them all off.

“So can we go eat now that your little moment is over?” Nic shouted.

“Yeah, i’m hungry!” Madi shouted, standing in water just above her ankles.

You held back a laugh and dragged chris out of the water with you, staring the three of them down with an amused look on your face.

“Didn’t know if he’d actually be able to do it.” Matt snorted, grabbing his towel off of his beach chair.

“Fuck off.” Chris retaliated, smacking him with his own towel.

“Well I guess you got your answer.” You replied.

“I literally did not think this kid would ever spill his fucking guts, I was genuinely starting to get irritated waiting.” Nic ranted.

Madi laughed beside him.

You guys packed up your stuff, lugging it to the car before deciding to go pick up food at a local restaurant and bring it back to the house you were staying in.

You fiddled with chris’s hand the entire car ride home, watching the scenery outside of your window and silently expressing your gratitude for Hawaii being what brought the two of you to finally confess your mutual feelings.

That night after you all returned you laid in bed with a soft smile on your face, thinking about chris as you drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

happy birthday casey!!! sorry that it’s corny and short, i just really wanted to make sure this was finished and proofread before your day <3

also my requests for both matt and chris are still open! feel free to send in any other requests you have, as long as they’re sfw! don’t forget to comment or pm me if you’d like to be added to the tag list! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @caseysturniolozzz @im-a-matt-girl @sturniolomads @stxrniqlo @mettsturniolo @orangetreekid @iluvmatt @lomlolivia @thetriplets3 @fake-coolbeans

#christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagine

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topazy · 2 months

Text

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood

Chapter: 3.06

Merle was trying to intimidate you by dragging his blade across the metallic table in front of you. The screeching noise caused you to flinch. You had spent the last couple of hours listening to Merle interrogate Glenn, beating him senseless for information, but not once did Glenn break. His actions solidified your reasoning for refusing to tell him anything; you’d rather be tortured than tell him anything.

You were being kept in a bricked-up building; the white paint on the walls has begun to peel off with dampness, and aside from the one door leading in, there was no other exit for you to escape out of.

Standing in front of you, Merle cocks his head to the side and says, “That shirt you’re wearing belongs to my brother.”

“How observant.”

“He gave it to you?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Yes.”

“He ain’t usually one for sharing.”

You say nothing back. Your people would have figured out something was wrong by now, and your brother would have come up with some plan to find you and Glenn. Even if Rick has started to lose his mind, this would force him back into reality.

“Listen, sugar tits. I don’t want to hit a girl, but I will if I need to.”

It’s difficult for you to comprehend that Daryl and Merle are brothers because the older Dixon was so vile in comparison to his younger brother. Merle begins to rant about Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog leaving him on the roof in Atlanta to die. While Merle shares his version of events in which he’s the victim, you manage to loosen the tape bounding your wrists behind your back.

You don’t let anything Merle says rile you up, until he mentions Rick one too many times, and it causes a wave of anger to wash over you.

“All I want to know is where my baby brother is and where that goddamn sheriff is so I can make the son of a bitch pay!”

Using your free hand, you punch Merle in the face; the unexpected blow causes him to stagger back. When he’s stable, he pulls his gun out and hits you in the face, causing blood to pool from your mouth. It takes you a few seconds to register that blood is not just coming from your lower lip; you bring your hand to your mouth and feel that a bottom tooth is missing.

Merle jolts forward and clenches your cheeks with his hand. “Do you have any idea who you’re fucking messing with, girl?”

You smack his hand away. Glaring at him, you say, “I’m Lily Grimes, and when my brother comes for us, I’ll make sure he takes more than your fucking hand this time!”

Merle tenses them out of the room.

—

Your tongue becomes numb when you bite it so hard in an attempt to hold back tears. Since you told Merle nothing, the governor has tried to pry information out of you with various threats. When that didn’t work, he forced you to strip off all the top half of your clothing. When you crossed your arms over your chest to try and cover yourself, he just laughed at you.

The governor was now dragging you roughly by the arm to another part of the building, with Merle and another man leading the way, each of them holding guns in their hands.

You gasped in shock at the sight of Glenn's severe beating upon entering the next room. Blood streamed from his ears, nose, and mouth, while bruises marred his face. His left eye was so swollen that he could hardly open it.

“We’re through with games,” the governor says, pulling out his gun and pointing it at your head. “Now, one of you is going to give up your camp.” When you don’t answer, he lets out a dark chuckle. “No? Let’s see if this gets you talking.”

Feeling a sudden, sharp pain in your lower leg, you stumble forward. One of the men had sliced your calf with a knife. You spit blood from your mouth out onto the ground. “I’m not going to tell you sadistic fucks anything!”

When the governor raises her hand to strike you, Glenn blurts out, “The prison.”

The governor lowers his hand, and Merle asks, “The one near Nunez? The place is overrun.”

“How many?”

When you don’t answer again, the governor points his gun at Glenn. “You have until I count to three, Miss Grimes. One…two…”

“Eleven,” you sob.

“Eleven people cleared that whole prison of walkers?”

You nod.

Enraged, the governor places his hand on your back and pushes you to the ground on his way out. As you weep, Merle and the other man step over your body and out of the room.

Glenn rushes to your side; he tries to help you up, but you refuse since you’d be showing him your bare chest. He takes his top off, hands it to you, then turns around for you to put it on. Once it’s on, you sit upright, and you bend your leg to inspect the bleeding wound. The cut wasn’t big but looked deep.

“Fuck, that looks bad, Lily.” He moves closer to inspect your face. “The governor took your tooth?”

“Merle hit me with his gun.”

Glenn starts to look around for something to help stop the bleeding. The room you were locked in reminds you of the wooden shed in your garden that Shane used to leave his unwanted junk in.

The disgusting treatment you and Glenn received pulls at a memory—something you’d tried so hard to keep locked away inside the back of your mind. In between sobs, you say, “Rick will find us; I’m not sure how, but he will.”

—

When more of the governor's men, led by Merle, came back to torture you for more information, you and Glenn attacked them with makeshift weapons. One of the men tried to force you to stand; you stabbed him in the throat with the sharp edge of a broken pipe, while Glenn tried to tackle Merle, but you were outnumbered.

Forced onto your knees, a sob slips from your lips. The men were reloading their guns behind you, getting ready to kill you with their execution style. Glenn, who looks terrified beside you, holds your hand. “We’re going to be okay; just look at me.”

“I’m never going to see Jace again.”

“Maggie will keep him safe.”

His grip on your hand tightens as the men approach to put sacks over your head.

“It’s been fun catching up,” Merle taunts.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud bang followed by smoke, which makes it hard to breathe with your head covered. Perhaps this was their cruel way of killing you—gassing you to death.

The sack is ripped off your head, and you’re met with a familiar face.

“Rick…”

Everything is chaotic as gunfire lights up the room, but with the smoke, it was hard to see who was shooting. Rick hooks his arm around you and helps you stay upright as you run from the room.

—

As soon as Rick lets go of you to barricade the door, you stumble to the ground. He tries to catch you, but he’s not fast enough. Rick had practically carried you across the street and into a small diner, which luckily had no windows, so hopefully it would give you cover for a little while.

Maggie kneels down and tends to Glenn, who’s leaning back against the counter, while Daryl and Oscar clear the back rooms.

Rick disappears and reappears within seconds, coming out of the kitchen with a tea towel in his hand. Frantically, he ties the fabric around your lower leg, and when you yell in pain, he apologizes, “Sorry, sorry. We gotta get you two out of here.”

“How’s Jace?”

Daryl answers before your brother can. “Aside from missing his mom, the little guy is fine.”

“Carl?”

Rick's eyes soften. “Don’t worry about them right now; they are safe. Everybody in the prison is fine. Lily, Carol is alive.”

Finally, some good news.

Maggie looks over at your brother and says, “Help me get him up.”

Glenn was starting to look a lot worse, with his face becoming more swollen with each passing moment. You’re unaware of Daryl moving behind you until he hooks his arm around your waist and helps you to your feet.

Daryl presses a kiss into your hair and says, “Shit, what happened to your face?”

“I had the pleasure of meeting your brother.”

He steps back slightly, maintaining his grip without letting go completely. “My brother is here.”

“Daryl, this was Merle,” Glenn slurs as blood mixed with saliva dribbles from his mouth.

“It was him; he did this.”

“You saw him?” Rick asks in disbelief.

Glenn nods, “Face-to-face. He threw a walker at me. He was going to execute us.”

Daryl’s loose grip on you suddenly tightens again. “So, my brothers, is this governor?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “He’s somebody else. Merle’s his lieutenant or something.”

“Does he know I’m with you?” Although it was a simple question, the way Daryl was looking at you made you feel it was much deeper.

“He does now,” Glenn says. “Rick I’m sorry, but we told him where the prison was. We couldn’t hold out.”

“Don’t; there is no need to apologize.” Rick says, “We have a car half a mile down the road, and we need to go now before they find us.”

—

The fight to get out of Woodbury, the hellhole of a town the governor runs, was brutal. Someone shot and killed Oscar, and Daryl went missing.

A woman named Michonne waited on the side of the road with you and Glenn. Neither of you were able to walk far, so you stayed while Rick and Maggie had gone back to search for Daryl.

“Lily! Glenn!”

Hearing your brother's voice, you get to your feet and limp over to the tree line. “Rick, did you find him?”

Your brother nods, panting, and he raises his hand. “Now we have a problem here; I need you to back up.”

You see Daryl and smile, realizing that he's alive, but the spark of happiness you feel quickly falters when you see Merle behind him.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Glenn yells, pointing his gun at Merle.

Michonne points her sword at him and says, “He tried to kill me!”

While the rest of the group argues, Merle leans back against a tree, smirking. He was enjoying the chaos his presence caused. You make your way over to him slowly, which amuses him. “Now, sweetheart—”

You cut him off by head-butting him. “That’s for my missing tooth, you asshole!”

“Hey, now, you hit me first,” he argues.

“After you beat the shit out of Glenn!” You go to take a step closer to him, but Daryl holds you back.

“You hurt her?” He barks.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Merle sneers at his brother before turning his attention back to you. “Listen, girly, we both got a few bunches in, but I had nothing to do with you being dragged around topless; bosom’s on show for all.”

Before Merle can say anything else, Rick is on top of him, punching him repeatedly. At first, nobody intervenes, but when the blows don’t stop, Daryl lets go of you and moves to pull him off. “Rick, that’s enough!”

“Rick! Stop!”

It takes Daryl, Michonne, and Maggie to finally pull your brother off of Merle. The look in Rick’s eyes was almost feral, like one you hadn’t seen in years.

—

You sit in the passenger seat of the car your brother would be driving back, watching as Maggie, Glenn, Rick, and Daryl have a heated conversation in the middle of the road. Leaning your head back, you squeeze your eyes shut. All you wanted was to get back to prison and hold Jace.

You needed to see Jace, Carl, and your niece for yourself to fully believe they were safe.

When the car door opens, you sigh. You already have a sick feeling about what is about to happen. Without opening your eyes, you say, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“They ain’t allowing Merle to come back to the prison.”

You open your eyes to look at Daryl, who’s crouched down to be eye level with you. He appears to be in a state of despair; it's the first time you’ve ever seen him look so defeated. “You surprised me after what he did to me and Glenn?”

“No.”

You rack your brain, trying to find any other solution that didn’t result in Daryl leaving, but there was none. “None of us want you to go.”

“I know,” he says, looking down at the ground. “Merle is coming in and out of consciousness; if I leave him on his own and a walker finds him... He’s my blood; I can’t do that.”

Your eyes cut across the road to Rick, who was patiently waiting. It stung knowing that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t leave your brother behind; “we’re your family as well.”

Daryl looks up at you again; this time his eyes are filled with unshed tears. “I just… I need you to know if Merle was able to protect himself. I’d be leaving here to go back to the prison.”

“What about when he’s better?”

“I’ll find my way back to you.”

#the walking dead #daryl dixon/you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #Daryl Dixon/reader #tomorrow’s promise #tomorrow’s promise 3.06 #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #rick grimes x sister reader

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

Text

Confessional Feelings

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: You find your feelings for Alec exposed after running into him after his date.

CW: serious pining, angst, eventual fluff tho

Broadchurch tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You shouldn’t be out here, you know. You know this. Alec had requested that everyone take safety measures when there’d been yet another predator marked as on the loose and actively looking for crimes to commit. And yet here you were.

Alec was on a date. You’d thought that maybe if you were great at your job and made yourself available to him for whatever he needed, he might get a clue and ask you out. That would be nice. You’d had feelings for him since he’d arrived in Broadchurch. You’d seen right through his irritable surface to the soft gooey centre. Not that you’d told him that you’d taken to calling him a Mars Bar or anything. You don’t think he’d care for that.

But he was on a date tonight, and you just needed to go for a walk to clear your head about the whole thing. You had to at least try and get him off your mind. For a few hours, anyway, until you saw him at work in the morning. At least he wasn’t the chatty type. You weren’t sure if you would have been able to handle hearing him talk about his date all day.

Turning the corner, you walk right smack back into someone coming the other way. You yelp, and the person shouts. Though it sounds distinctly familiar. Pressing your hand to your chest, you blink a few times to try and wash the shock away. When your vision clears, you see none other than the object of your feelings and the reason for your very late stroll standing before you.

“Jesus, what’re you doin’ out here so late?” Alec asks shortly, still getting over the shock himself. He looks angry, but you think that’s just because you’ve scared each other half to death. “Och, what have I said? There’s a- a killer!”

Your mouth gapes open and shut a couple of times, trying to find the words.

“Going for a walk,” you settle, waving your arms as if that was obvious. Alec blinks, and before he can open his mouth, you blurt, “how was the date? I- uh, your date, I mean. That you were just on. That you’re coming from.”

“Fine,” is his response. “It was fine, yep- good.”

You cock a brow in silent question. Alec sighs and pinches his nose.

“Just, not- Oh, I don’t know. Y’ken what I mean,” he attempted. A flush was creeping up his cheeks. You shook your head, no. “Oh, look, we just didn’t click.”

“Right,” you trailed off slowly, a blush creeping up your own cheeks now. That meant there was still a chance. Possibly. Of course, for there to be a chance, Alec had to be interested.

Alec chewed on his lip awkwardly for a moment.

“Can I walk you home, then?”

You nodded without hesitation. Alec gestured for you to lead the way. You turned around to go back the way you came. Maybe this was your chance to confess how you felt.

“So, why didn’t you click?” You asked. “With your date.”

Alec sighs, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. It’s something he does when he’s nervous, you’ve noticed.

“I dunno,” he replies at first, as though thinking about what to say. “Sounds horrible to say, but, she just didn’t interest me.” Alec seemed to be growing more anxious by the second.

“I get that,” you comfort quietly, kicking at a pebble on the path. The cool night air makes you shiver, and Alec shrugs out of his jacket to place around your shoulders. He averts your gaze when you pull it around yourself tighter. It doesn’t fit the whole way around, what with him being a complete beanpole, but the warmth seeping through the coat into your skin was heavenly nonetheless.

You snuggle tighter into the coat. You swear Alec smiles to himself, but when you look to check it’s gone. Almost like he’s hiding it from you.

You walk in silence for a couple more minutes, hands almost brushing as you do so. He’s straying closer to you than usual. Maybe it’s the cold, maybe he’s subconsciously moving closer for warmth now you’ve unintentionally stolen his coat. But the way his forefinger brushes against the back of your hand tells you otherwise. Oh, this might be your time to shine.

“Can I-”

“Look, I-”

You both speak over each other, and you purse your lips shut, forcing yourself to stay quiet and let him go first.

“Sorry, erm- do you mind if I?”

You gesture to go ahead. The pace slows as you get closer to your house, only a few numbers up. Alec looks like he’s fidgeting on the spot, nervous energy fizzling out of him like a shaken soda.

“So, this date, erm-” the man rubs at his cheeks as if trying to give himself strength. “It didn’t work because, well…”

You’re trying to dissect him with your eyes, whole being hinged on the hope that he’s about to say. He stumbles over his words for a few more moments before you put him out of his misery.

“I- are you trying to say you have… feelings for me?” You’re almost too terrified to hear the answer, your heart feels like it's lodged in your throat, chest swelling like a balloon.

Alec looks at you, looks away and then chews on his bottom lip for a moment.

“S’pose that’s what I’m tryin’ t’say, yes.”

You cannot help the splitting grin that spreads its way across your cheeks. Alec looks embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck. You haven’t been as overjoyed as you are at this moment for a very long time.

“Are you joshing me right now?” That would not be cool.

“I-no, sorry- I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” you say, holding a hand up to stop him right there. “I-I’m glad you did. I, uh,” a nervous giggle bubbles out. “Have feelings for you too.”

“Oh, y’do? Wasn’t expecting that,” a small smile is spreading over his face too now. A pretty thing.

You stop in front of the gateway to your house. Alec hovers as if not sure what to say.

“I do,” you reiterate, blush flushing up your skin. “And I’d really like to, um, kiss you. If you wanted?”

Alec doesn’t waste any time, surging in to press his lips to yours. One hand raises to brush against your cheek, the other to hold you by the back of the neck, keeping you locked together in your embrace. You melt into him, lips moving back against his own.

The coat falls from your shoulders and Alec breaks away with a smile. A real, genuine smile. He reaches down to pick the coat back up.

“Would you, uh- wow- I can’t believe that just happened,” you giggle uncontrollably. “Would you like to come in? Just for a cup of tea? Oh, please say yes.”

“Oh, I’d love to. Come quick now, let's get you in out of the cold, eh?”

You nod agreeably, bounding up the steps and unlocking the door. Alec follows, folding the coat over his arm.

You get about halfway through making that cup of tea before the both of you are making out in the kitchen, Alec having you pressed up against the counter. After months of pining, you really can’t believe this was happening.

It really made you wish you’d cleaned your bedroom this morning. Not that Alec seemed to mind, given that both of your clothes ended up all over the floor anyway by the time midnight rolled around.

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leejeongz · 8 months

Note

breaking up with enhypen pretty please 🎧🎀

🫧 breaking up with enhypen 🫧

pairing: exboyf!enha x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: made up characters that do not reflect on the members personally, dramatised situations for reader’s enjoyment, a little bit toxic (heeseung’s and sunoo’s are very toxic ngl), mentions of food (sunghoon), swearing (sunoo).

a/n: this was the first time i’ve ever cried while writing smth idk why i made jake’s hit so close to home but i hope u enjoy it after i put myself thru that HAHAH

𓆉 heeseung

“i just don’t think you should be wearing a top that shows your whole chest when my friends are around,” heeseung kissed his teeth before turning to his friends at the bar.

your friends' eyes all shifted to you, you could tell just by looking at them what they were going to say. “i’ll talk to him in the morning,” you assured, yet they didn’t look that impressed with you, knowing your track record.

the morning came and you were still upset from the night before, something that doesn’t usually happen.

more & other members under the cut

“you know, y/n, you were a real embarrassment in front of my friends last night,” the words angered you even more.

“hm no, i think i was perfectly fine,” where you’d usually apologise, you fought back, “you can’t expect me to let you speak to me like you do . i’m always trying to find the right time to be upset with you.” you were slightly disappointed by what you said, you know it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say, but you were holding back tears, it was the best you could do.

“there’s nothing to be upset with me for,” heeseung was genuinely stunned, as if he’d always been this perfect boyfriend he convinced himself that he was.

you scoffed, sitting on the bed as heeseung stood on the other side of it. “i’m always strategizing how to bring stuff up, you’re constantly avoiding talking about things that make me feel uncomfortable and bad, sometimes i think so hard about stuff that i end up dropping it, i hate living like this.” you spoke with your head in your hands, the tears you were holding back were seeping out uncontrollably.

“you drop it because it’s nothing,” not at all taken aback by your admission, heeseung presses more.

“just get out. i don’t want this, or us, or you,” you affirm, “i deserve better.”

“course you do,” heeseung laughs before picking up his backpack, “good luck finding it.”

𓆉 jay

you lay in your bed, staring at the wall while jay played on his phone next to you, wondering how you ever ended up in this situation. you liked jay, a lot. there was no disputing that. but did you deserve to be with him?

jay shuffled next to you, he’d turned over and was going to spoon you with an arm draped over your waist when you suddenly turned over yourself and sat a little further up the bed.

“why, what’s wrong?” jay asked, wondering if he’d gone too far.

“jay,” you paused, looking to your boyfriend for reassurance as you spoke, “i don’t think im ready for a relationship, just yet.”

jay’s face dropped to a disappointed frown that he tried to hide from you. “it’s okay.” he finally sat up, he searched for permission to hold your hand, which you granted by placing it on his lap.

you focused on your interlocked hands. if someone had told you that you’d be doing this a few months ago, you’d never have believed it.

“you’re everything i could’ve asked for and more, y/n,” jay looks to your hands too and wraps his other hand around them. “i’ll wait for you no matter what, okay?”

you know jay doesn’t want to break up, but you can’t keep leading him on like this. “i can’t even love myself, how am i supposed to know how to love you?” you blurt out in a flood of tears. “you’re so so perfect, jay, i want you to find better, please, jay.” your eyes are pleading into his, as if this is the only thing that will ever make you happy.

“y/n, you’re my everything.” he tuts and tilts his head, “but i think, if this is what you want, then let’s put on the breaks for a bit.” you gave jay a guilty smile. “don’t be like that, y/n, it was pretty exhausting for me too,” jay laughed, hoping you’d take it as a joke but really hiding some truth.

𓆉 jake

you sat in jake’s car, the silent journey to the airport still replaying in your mind as you put off getting out. you wanted to be with him forever, but you knew the minute you stepped out of the car, you would be all alone, without jake, so you stayed for as long as you could. you looked at yourself in the small mirror of the sunshield, your eyes welling up as you noticed your boyfriend in your peripheral vision.

“y/n, you okay, darling?” jake peered his head around.

“no,” you cried out, “ i already miss you, and i’m not even gone.”

jake laughed a little before wrapping you in his arms, kissing the crown of your head.

“i hate that i’m not going to see you tomorrow, or the day after, or even the day after that,” you pulled away from his hug to wipe your tears, “i hate that we can’t be together all the time, and i hate that we had to end things like this.”

jake took a long inhale. his eyes stumbled around his car, avoiding focusing on anything for too long because he knew he’d cry. he didn’t want you to see him cry, not today.

“me too, angel. me too.” jake’s eyes welled up as he admired you in person for one last time.

you took a deep breath, the tears blurring your vision as you wrapped your fingers around the door handle and opened it slowly. you took one last look at jake, he managed to take your face into his hands and wipe your tears as you smiled at him.

“don’t be a stranger, hey?” jake tilted his head to the side, “call me whenever you need, i’m still your bestest friend, my love.”

you took the opportunity to kiss him on the cheek, you regretted it so much. he looked away as you slipped out of the car and got your suitcase from the trunk. you turned to wave at the boy you’d loved for a very long time, only to see him, absolutely destroyed, leaning over his steering wheel.

𓆉 sunghoon

you always knew sunghoon to be an honest person and vocal when he needed to be. you never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t be. but you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.

“how about this weekend?” you asked, twirling the pasta around your fork. “we could book a hotel by sea and just relax,” and rekindle the flame that died, you thought, but didn’t dare say aloud.

“this weekend?” you nod, “i’m working, sorry.” he didn’t make eye contact as he spoke, instead staring directly at his plate.

you stabbed a chunk of mushroom loudly, catching his attention, “working…” he hummed in response, the tone of which elicited a scoff from you. “you’re always working, everytime i suggest we do something together, you’re conveniently working, do you even love me anymore sunghoon?”

sunghoon stayed completely silent, staring back down at his food.

“sunghoon?”

still, nothing.

you slammed the fork down onto the table and stood, pushing the chair back with a horrible screech. you focused on the boy for a while. how could you break up with him and let him win? when he didn’t even have the decency to speak? but you knew it would hurt you more if you didn’t say “then i guess it’s over.”

“i guess,” sunghoon finally spoke. he seemed unbothered, maybe even a little happy that someone finally said it. “should i go now or?”

you stared him down, he placed the fork down gingerly and left your apartment sharpish, leaving you to overthink everything about the past few months.

𓆉 sunoo

“so let me get this straight,” sunoo laughed as clapped his hands together twice, a little too sassily for your liking. “you’re mad at me because im being nice to my fans?”

“fan, singular, not plural, sunoo,” you clarified.

“so what, we have matching phone cases? you said you didn’t wanna do that, anyway.”

“i didn’t mean go and get them with someone else,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes at his facetiousness, “and it’s not just that. it’s weird enough that you found their social media and trusted them enough with your private accounts when i wasn’t even allowed to follow them for months, but going out with them and buying them gifts, that’s a bit too far.”

“it’s called a parasocial relationship,” he completely dismissed your concerns, “how can you be in a relationship with an idol if you can’t even respect that i have fans?”

you furrowed your brows in confusion, “do the other members do this? how about i call jungwon up, ask what he thinks, hm?”

sunoo soon became very quiet, he knows that this is more than an idol x fan relationship, he knows the others disapprove of it just as much as you do, he knows that this is wrong. he noticed that you’d caught on and once again searched for any kind of defence he could reach.

“you’re overreacting, and if you’re gonna be like this, then we’re done, y/n,” he suddenly blurts out, slipping his phone out of his pocket to text you know who about your argument immediately.

“yeah, no shit we’re breaking up,” you double down on sunoo’s words, wishing you could’ve said them first, “you’re a nasty piece of work, i wish them the best of luck for having to deal with you.”

for weeks after, you couldn’t help but regret your final words to sunoo. you debated on sending him an apology, but decided against it when you saw fans coming to defend you once the news had been released.

𓆉 jungwon

as you entered jungwon’s room, you could tell by the dishevelled look on his face, he knew exactly why you were here. you sat on the edge of his bed, one leg folded under you, the other dangling, your foot barely touching the floor. jungwon sat cross legged, his back against the single pillow propped up by his headboard.

“so,” he started, forcing a smile. “how have you been?”

“good,” you smiled back at him shyly, not because you felt shy as such, but because you knew what you were about to do was going to hurt him. “jungwon, i think we should break up.” you gave him time to digest your words before continuing. “i love you, but that’s not enough, for me, right now.” you purse your lips in hopes that you wouldn’t cry, “because you hurt me. and i can’t trust you, as hard as i try, i just can’t,” you ramble.

“it’s okay, y/n,” jungwon nodded in agreement, “i’m just sorry i couldn’t be the boyfriend you deserve.” you noticed jungwon had reached into the drawer of his bedside cabinet, following his hands which carried a cardboard box. “i was going to give this to you for your birthday, but i want you to have it now.”

you opened it, revealing a childlike friendship bracelet in your favourite colours, the black and white letter cubes spelling out “all my love.”

“i’m not giving it to you to make you feel guilty. i want you to have it because i want you to always remember that you’re loved.” his hands closed it into yours, “i've learnt so much from you.”

you couldn’t help but scoff at his final comment, it was a bit of a joke to you that he had to learn not to cheat on people that he loved, but you were hopeful that he would never do it to anyone else ever again. you left him with a half genuine smile and a tiny thank you.

“i’ll bring your stuff later this week,” he said, drawing your attention back to him, “can i?”

𓆉 niki

“i can give you more space,” niki pleaded, just saying whatever came to his head without giving it too much logical thought.

“i don’t need space,” you stood from the couch, your hands finding your head in frustration, “are you not listening to me? i’m sick of having to look after you, can you not do anything for yourself?” you snapped.

niki wasn’t able to respond. he remembered, just earlier that day, you’d had to remind him of the dentist appointment you’d made for him. “isn’t that too far?” he sulked, his eyes swollen and sunken even though he hadn’t cried.

all rationality was lost, “not when it’s true,” you scoffed at the boy, who seemed like he was finally accepting some fault. “don’t you feel ashamed?” you pushed, until niki looked as if he’d reach boiling point.

“if you’re going to treat me like a child i might as well act like one, y/n,” niki stands too, he towers over you, but you insist in your mind that you can stand your ground. “you constantly embarrass me in front of people, “i had to make him an appointment” “i had to cook his dinner for him,”” he mimics, “i can do those things just fine, y/n, but you love doing them just to have one up on me, don’t you?”

you squint, you didn’t realise that’s what you were doing, but it was probably true. “well, you’ll be fine doing all those things when i’m gone,” niki’s face drops, yours follows as the weight of the words hit you like a truck, but you know it’s not working. “i’m gonna go now, i’ll get my stuff tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

niki nods, a small smile on his face that’s just begging to remain civil with you after all of this is over.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #jungwon #jay #sunghoon #heeseung #jake #sunoo #niki #sim jaeyun #enhypen reactions

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altheasmeadow · 1 year

Text

The Chicken Issue

Warnings: mention of way too much chicken

genre: fluff

Pairing: Yeosang x fem reader

word count: 766

Summary: In which craving what your soulmate is eating sucks especially when all your soulmate wants to eat is chicken.

“Chicken? Again?” Her brother groaned as he took in the food that was spread across the counter.

“I can’t help it! It’s like my soulmate is obsessed with this stuff.” She whined, making her plate hastily, soul bonds were never easy, and honestly it seemed to be even more difficult when the connection was so vague. How was craving the same food supposed to lead them to each other.

“Who is that obsessed with fried chicken?” Her brother groaned as he began making his plate as well.

“Phsycos that’s who.”

–

“Don’t you think your soulmate is tired of chicken?” Hongjoong asked with a grimace as he took in the sight of Yeosang eating chicken for the third time this week.

“How can anyone get tired of chicken?”

“Yeosang how can anyone eat it as much as you without getting sick.”

“Well the soulmate bond makes them crave it when i eat it so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Just because they crave it doesn’t mean they’re not tired of it.”

–

“Finally something normal!” Her brother blurted as they headed to the restaurant near the shopping center they had spent their day at.

“If he can make me crave chicken all of the time, he can suck it up and eat sushi for the day.”

“So when he eats chicken, is it like a specific place, like you know how certain places have distinct tastes in their food, do you know if it's a specific place?” He wondered, making her think for a moment.

“I think it’s the place down the road from KQ.” She shrugged, she had been to many places trying to get the craving to dial down, never quite itching the right spot with each one, until she had tried that place near KQ, the craving finally relinquished.

“God these bonds are weird, why don’t you stake out the place, is there a specific pattern on when he eats there? The specialist said once you meet the cravings should subside.”

“Yea like that will work.” She hummed, as the waiter came over to get their orders.

After ordering it became apparent that he wasn’t backing off of this idea, “I’m just saying, if we time it to when youre usually craving it we may be able to find him at the restaurant, then I can give him a piece of my mind for making me eat chicken so much.”He proposed making his sister roll her eyes, “One chance! Come one, what do you have to lose?”

–

It worked. Way too well actually, the duo sat in the restaurant watching the door takingin each person coming in, when an ethereal man walked in illiciting gasps from the duo. The usually mute thrumming of the bond intensified the longer they stood in his presence, apparently he felt it too glancing around quickly before getting distracted by the chicken. As shocked as she was, she didn’t even notice her brother stealing the opportunity to approach the beautiful man who looked up in confusion, “Dude chicken seriously?”

“Huh?” Yeosang asked, looking offended at the abrupt question.

“Every time you eat it, my sister craves it and we’ve had chicken way too many times within the past few years since her bond surfaced.” Her brother complained, making Yeosang perk up in interest. Looking around the man’s body to try and spot his soulmate.

“What’s wrong with chicken?” The clueless man asked, tilting his head confusedly, making the other man sigh in exasperation.

“Chicken for dinner three times a week is annoying is what he’s saying!” Another voice chimed making Yeosang turn excitedly as the thrumming got stronger, he took in his soulmate with gleeful eyes, mind wandering to every compliment he could express to her one day.

"Okay, I get it now." He grinned, still drinking in his beautiful soulmate, both siblings sharing a look at the declaration.

"You do?" The brother wondered, looking unconvinced.

"Yeah!" Yeosang chirped happily, turning his head, giving his soulmate a great view of the birthmark on his cheek.

"Are you sure?" She raised an eyebrow showing that she didn’t believe a word he said.

"No." Yeosang sulked, his shoulders deflating, before he picked up a piece of chicken and took a bite while pouting. “How can you not want chicken?”

“Honey that’s not the issue, it’s how often you ate it that makes me sick of it.”

He grinned at the endearment, almost preening as she reached to ruffle his hair a bit in comfort. He could definitely get used to that. As long as she agrees to chicken twice a week.

#ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #yeosang imagines #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #kpop imagines #kpop idol x reader #idol x reader #kpop #fanfic #kpop scenarioes #idol imagines

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whxre-bxby · 9 months

Note

For the hate-fucking with Brown or Ja, maybe they would hate each other because they like knew each other in the past (like high school rivalry) and they never outgrew it.

Or they're just really competitive keep trying to outdo the other.

Or when they woke up as recoms they were both really distraught by the situation and when emotions ran high they both said some hurtful stuff and after that they started hating each other

Just some suggestions! :)

Why not combine both into one :D , I chose the last idea. Thank you for your request!

Recom Brown x Recom f. Y/N x Recom Ja

Hatefucking with Brown and Ja

Masterlist (baseball cap buddies)

Summary: After waking up as recoms, many soldiers keep neglecting their emotions which leads to them exploding one day. Y/N gets into an argument with both Ja and Brown and they solve it by finally once giving in to their instincts and listening to their bodies.

Warnings: Smut, angst, cursing, arguing, manhandling, roughness, angry/hate sex, non-con, hurt/comfort, aftercare, threesome, orgasm denial, teasing, penetration, blowjob

Word Count: 6949

As you definitely already know by now, waking up in an Avatar wasn’t easy for the recoms. You all struggled but no one ever talked about it. Suppressing and ignoring is easier than acknowledging and solving.

It’s an unhealthy strategy, you know that, but it does work. To a certain extent at least. Sometimes, bottling up emotions will cause them to suddenly burst one day. When that happens, things usually escalate.

Now to bring up the inevitable, that exact thing already happened.

About a week ago you lost your patience with two soldiers specifically. They broke too.

You’re in the weaponry, holding a wetted rag in one hand and your assault rifle in the other. The weapon which now has scratches and a dent in it because of the way it was carelessly chucked at you by Ja.

That was the first small spark of the huge fire that broke out that day.

He’s clearly in a bad mood which infected you. His behaviour is unprofessional and you yourself aren’t in the best state of mind to be dealing with his moody self.

But you have a little self-control left in you, so you don’t comment on his behaviour. You let it slide. Nonetheless, you’re pissed off. Your ears are flattened back and a frown is covering your usually cheerful face.

Ja notices your mood change but it doesn’t cross his mind that it’s because of him. Sitting around the room on the other benches are Brown and Prager. Everyone is busy. Which is why Ja should focus on his work and not yours.

“You’re doin’ it wrong.” he suddenly blurts out, breaking the heavy silence. The silence was comfortable and pleasant before he threw the weapon right next to you.

Your movements of wiping the grease from the gun still and you ask yourself whether you heard that right. You hope for his sake that you imagined it because if he were to have the nerve to comment on your doings after his little childish fit, you would lose it.

You glance up at him, studying his expression only to realise he did in fact say that and is now awaiting a reaction. Brown and Prager and now listening too.

“You think I don’t know how to clean my own weapon?” You ask with an undertone of sass which has his ears flipping back too.

“I can see you’re clueless.”

That’s it. You can’t stand him anymore. “I’ve done this before. I know what I’m doing, dipshit.” you sneer at him, resting your hands on your lap while he stands in front of you.

“Maybe that’s why our weapons haven’t been working properly lately. ‘Cause you have no idea what you’re doin’.”

You’re speechless and boiling with anger. Who does he think he is?

“Maybe if you wouldn’t throw them on the fucking ground they would work just fine.”

Ja isn't able to fire back an argument at that. Perhaps he forgot he even mishandled your weapon. That could very well be the case. The number of overwhelming emotions have caused many of you to become hotheaded, but you were too angry with Ja to excuse his behaviour.

You get up to stand at eye level with him. His stare is hard and intimidating now but you won't back down. You're not scared of him.

"Don't start bitching to me about shit I know. It's not my problem you're all moody." You snap, provoking him by mimicking his voice in an exaggerated manner.

"Moody?" He scoffs, taking a step forward to intimidate you. "You've been actin' like a bitch all day."

You laugh at his pathetic comment. There's almost no point arguing with him. It’s like talking to a rude brick wall.

"I haven't even seen you today, until now." You reply.

Prager steps up, walking a few steps closer to Ja and me.

"Cut it out, both of you. We have to finish this in an hour." Prager says. He's right, we have a tight schedule and this is wasting time.

Ja glares at him. "This doesn't concern you. She's been like this the whole time so I'm gonna deal with her now."

You scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "You don't have to 'deal' with shit. Brush it off like everyone else."

"Yeah, like that's what you do." He chuckles darkly.

"I let you, throwing my fucking weapon on the ground, slide earlier. I didn't call you out for almost breaking the door handle when you came in and I didn't complain about Brown not putting the fucking weights back." You snarl at Ja but now Brown stands up too.

"Don't pull me into this shit." Brown says and Prager sighs before taking his weapon and leaving the room.

"Just like your mess almost pulled me to the floor?" You continue to provoke, shifting your gaze from Ja to Brown.

Brown had left his weights on the ground of the gym the other day instead of putting them back and you almost tripped over them after your workout.

"Hey, I'm not the one blocking the shower for an entire hour." He snarls and you roll your eyes.

"At least I fucking shower." You fire back. "Both of you smell like shit."

Ja takes offence again and glares at you as you turn around to pick up your weapon. The second you straighten your posture, a hand is on your shoulder and it roughly spins you around to face the two of them.

"You do it on purpose don't you?" Ja snarls.

His words catch you off guard. You don't understand.

"What?" You ask, genuinely confused. Your angry tone fades with the question.

"You wind us up." Brown adds, seeming to understand what Ja is saying.

"I wind you up?!" You almost shout in disbelief. "Do you know how long I've been fighting the urge to punch you two?!"

They grin evilly at you, probably imagining you attempting to punch them. It makes you want to do it that much more.

"I saved your lives you know?" You tease, shifting your weight from one leg to another.

"Oh yeah, how?" Ja scoffs.

"Pure self-control." You snarl, hinting at the fact that you're trying your best to not kill them.

"Something you both lack."

"Yeah, well you don't make it easy." Ja replies, stepping forwards so that he's all up in your space. His chest bumps against yours and your heart is racing. You tell yourself it's from the anger but really, it's because of them. Your hatred for each other has caused tension between the three of you.

You don't know how to reply to that so you take a step back, trying to read his expression before your yes avert to Brown's.

"What do you use? Is it some fuckin' body wash?" He asks and you just stare up at him in confusion.

" ‘S that why it takes you so fuckin' long to shower?" Brown grins scanning your body over.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You ask, upping the tone once more and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

There's a small pause while you await their answer. Both soldiers exchange looks before staring at you a little while longer. As if they aren't sure why you aren't catching on to what they're saying.

"Your smell. It's different." Ja says. You're at a loss for words. Are they seriously insulting your hygiene after mentioning themselves you take the most care of yourself?

"I smell different?" You ask in disbelief, trying to understand what is going through their heads.

"You didn't smell like this before." Brown adds. You feel like you’re going mad. What the actual fuck are they talking about?

"Before what?" you fire back, trying to get to the bottom of this.

"Before we became recombinants. When we were human." Brown replies. Their eyes are fixated on you and their full attention makes you slightly nervous. You’re not used to this.

“What are you even saying?” You ask again, telling yourself you will just leave like Prager if they don’t start making sense soon.

Ja exhales loudly and still looks angry at you.

“You expect us to be able to work properly with you smelling so fuckin’ good?”

The words slowly sink in and you realise they are actually not insulting you. That’s a surprise.

“Whatever you’re usin’, let it be.” Brown growls, backing up Ja. They both seem fed up.

You think about their words and reactions for a minute, putting the puzzle pieces together in your mind while they just watch you.

Suddenly, an idea comes to mind which has it all making sense and you gasp in shock before bursting out in laughter.

Now it’s their turn to be confused. Ja and Brown exchange a quick questioning glance before turning back to you.

“What so fuckin’ funny?” Ja asks. His bad mood is still very much present.

You have to pause your giggles to explain.

“There’s no body wash in the bathrooms you morons.” you wheeze, holding your side to prevent stitches. “We’re not even allowed to use it.”

They don’t quite understand and continue to cluelessly stare at you.

“Poor babies, you’re going through your cycles.” You coo teasingly, trying to piss them off even more.

Both their ears instantly flip back at the pet name and it makes you grin even more.

You turn away, wanting to wash the cloth you were just cleaning your gun with but once again, you’re pulled back to them and turned around. Ja tugs you back with such force you land right in front of them, almost bumping into their chests.

You sigh, finally being able to relax your aching facial muscles from the laughing. “You didn’t read the documents did you?”

They stay silent for a few seconds before shaking their heads. Apparently, you were one of the only soldiers who read all the information about the new bodies.

“Being all frustrated and moody tricks your body into thinking it’s your fucking seasonal cycle. Then you get all angry and horny for one specific person.” you grin evilly, pushing Brown’s chest back to create some sort of space between you and them. He just stumbles back one step, suddenly listening intently.

“You’ve been honoured with me.” You tease. “Too bad you hate me and vice versa.”

Something in the atmosphere changes. Their gazes are no longer curious, but predatory in a way.

“You’re serious?” Ja asks. His voice seems deeper than before.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t make this shit up. The last thing I’m doing is trying to get in your pants, asshole.” you snarl. The insults naturally come to you at this point and you’re not sure whether you’re even speaking the truth.

“Quit it with the attitude.” Brown growls. The way he says the words makes shivers run up your spine but at the same time it pisses you off.

“Me? Look at how you’re fucking behaving. Leave me the fuck alone before you fall in love.” you torment him, taking a few steps back to reach for the cloth again.

“You’re too much of a bitch to even like.” he snarls at you. You would have thrown insults back if you’re wandering eyes wouldn’t have accidentally landed on his crotch. They then flickered over to Ja’s pants and he seemed to have the same problem.

This is pathetic. “Awwh seems you really have it bad for me.” you fake a sweet voice, giving them puppy eyes.

“Yeah?” Brown scoffs. “Not the only one. I can fucking smell you Y/N.”

“Apparently you always can.” you fire back, trying your best to avoid being exposed like them.

“Why do you make everything so hard for us?” he sneers and you chuckle.

“Literally or figuratively?”

“Bitch.” he growls, muttering the curse under his breath.

“That’s your problem.” you say, shrugging your shoulder and turning your back to them once again. If they spin you around once more you will deliver a punch to one of their faces.

“Our problem.” Ja corrects and it makes me scrunch my face in confusion. The fuck does that mean?

“Glad you have something in common.” you mutter, not bothering to give them your full attention anymore.

“And I’m gonna deal with it.” Brown mumbles, probably talking to Ja but you overheard what he said. You want to turn around and question him but suddenly, a hand wraps around the base of your queue while the other catches both your wrists behind your back.

You gasp in surprise at the sudden roughness but before you can comprehend who is doing what, you’re being pushed forward. Your chest and face are pressed down against the hard surface of a metal table.

You can hear Ja chuckle from somewhere behind you but it’s now clear to you that Brown has had enough and is pinning you against the furniture.

“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” Brown teases, growling the words. You hiss at him, trying to break free from his harsh grip but it’s useless.

“Get off of me you son of a-”

He chuckles darkly at your miserable escape attempts. “Then don’t think that I will. By the time we’re done, you won’t be able to fucking talk like that anymore.”

Within moments after he speaks those words, you can hear him unbuckling his belt. You freeze, wondering whether you heard that correctly. Was he being serious?

When his hands start roughly opening yours and tugging down your cammies, you realise he wasn’t playing around anymore.

Your body is in a state of unexpected shock and you don’t quite know how to react, but your stomach still continues to twist in excitement. An excitement they can smell. One that clouds their minds with lust and blinds out all common sense.

Ja comes around the table, squatting down in front of you and grinning at your helpless and surprised expression.

“Thought we’d let you just leave after all that?” he teases, lifting his hand to demeaningly stroke your cheek. You tilt your face away from his touch but he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him while Brown continues to strip your bottom half naked.

“Why the fuck are you doing this?” you hiss at him in between struggles, hating how easily they took control of the situation. “I thought you- hated me.”

Brown has now removed both of your pants and underwear and his large hand suddenly slid over the curve of your ass before roughly groping at it. It makes you whimper when you feel how mean he is being with you, definitely leaving the skin red. Ja glances up at Brown and when his eyes meet yours again, his grin has grown wider.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ hate you. Your attitude most of all.” he chuckles, deeply staring into your eyes. “But at least we can fix that.”

You frown, wishing you could slap that smirk clean off his face. But he isn’t taking you seriously. Not when you’re bent over a table, half naked and being manhandled by his friend.

Suddenly, Brown delivers a stinging slap to the area his hand just assaulted and it makes you flinch. You have to bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from crying out. Something tells you that even tears won’t help you out of this.

“But there’s no denyin’ that you’re the hottest bitch around.” he grins, before getting up and pushing your head to the side.

Above you, Brown chuckles again and you feel his hand slide lower until his two fingers slip down between your shamefully wet folds.

“You’re sure you don’t have the same problem as we do, baby?” he asks, teasing you for being equally as worked-up as they are.

“Never in a hundred years would I feel any sort of attraction to you idiots.” you spit your words, trying your best to still resist.

“Guess we’ll find out.” he replies. His voice sounds strained. “I’ll fuck you dumb, Y/N.”

His words startle you and in the next second, Brown thrusts forward and his tip instantly penetrates your throbbing pussy. Your hands ball into fists at the intrusion and you press your forehead against the cold table, clenching your eyes closed. It felt different than you remember. Maybe it’s because your Avatar isn’t used to this.

Brown hisses in pleasure, not stopping his movements until he is buried balls deep inside of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck-” he groans, letting go of your queue and now just holding your hip and wrists behind your back. “So tight.”

You whimper, clenching your jaw. “It hurts.”

Your voice is quiet and shaky but he hears you. He hesitates to move after what he heard you say. To test the waters, he slowly pulls out, keeping just the tip of his dick between your lips. His eyes peer down to where you two are connected and his whole body freezes when he spots a few specks of blood. He knows very well it’s not from him and now he isn’t only questioning what he is doing, he’s regretting his actions.

His eyes are wide with shock as he just stares at it. His thoughts are racing and his heartbeat picks up. What made him think he could do this to you? Instantly, his hands let go of you and you let them fall to your sides.

Ja notices something is wrong and glances under your tail to be met with the safe horrific site his friend is seeing. It’s horrific to them, but surprisingly less bad for you.

They don’t understand. You’re scent clearly told them you were ready for sex and it fueled their instincts to mate. Now, seeing the potential harm they caused, snaps them back into reality for a few moments.

“Shit- Y/N, I thought you wanted…” he stops mid-sentence, being reminded of your protests. We’re they that ignorant?

To their horror and confusion, you suddenly look calm. Your body is relaxed and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m bleeding aren’t I?” you ask, feeling almost certain you know what is happening.

“Yeah…” Brown replies and Ja takes a step back, not sure how to react. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I-”

“Brown, calm the fuck down.” you say, silencing not only his panicked voice but their worried thoughts.

Your tail lifts higher and you caress his jaw with it, looking over your shoulder with a grin. He doesn’t move away, he lets it happen. The silence makes him uncomfortable and he draws his hips back a little to completely remove himself from you but suddenly, you push back against him. Your hips follow his and you slide yourself back on his dick, taking him slightly deeper than just the tip.

He freezes again, watching you in confusion and shock. Neither of the soldiers understood what was happening but watching you willingly press yourself up against him again made his dick twitch. Almost making him harder than before which is nearly impossible.

“Tha Avatars are virgins. It’s normal.” you say, hoping to help them realise they didn’t hurt you in the way they feared. You didn’t expect to bleed because you didn’t bleed when you lost your virginity as a human. Either way, you know it’s nothing to be worried about.

Both men are silent as they start to rethink everything and process what you just said. Then Brown speaks up, wanting to make sure he understood correctly.

“You’re okay?” he asks. His voice is tainted with worry and you can hear a small tremble.

You chuckle, facing forwards again. “Aw, look at that. You guys give a shit about me.”

Behind you, Brown and Ja exchange looks again. As if to make sure they’re both back on board with their original plan.

“Main thing is you act like ‘big boys’, being all mean and grumpy and then you almost cry about a few drops of blood.” You laugh at them, with the full intention of winding them up again. You don’t know why you do it, but it's amusing to you because it’s so easy to get under their skin.

You wiggle your hips against Brown for a few seconds and that’s all it takes for his original self to be back on you.

“I knew you do it on purpose.” he snarls but you know he is grinning to himself. Now you know that he likes it, even if he complains about your bitchy behaviour. Maybe you need to be like this more often.

“Do what?” you ask, playing dumb which makes him chuckle. Fuck, do you do things to him.

“If anyone’ll be cryin’ it’ll be you on my dick.” he says, groping the soft flesh of your hips. Brown loved how soft you were. It very often made him weak when he would watch you. Now, he gets to touch you

“Make it happen before you have another crisis.” you tease, and with that Brown thrusts forward once more. This time, he goes slightly harder than before.

You inhale sharply, stretching your arms forward to hold on to the edge of the table. He pauses, tapping the insides of your ankles with his boot for you to open your legs wider. You move one and he doesn’t bother to wait for the other so he kicks it to the side.

The pain is very mild and is rapidly fading away each time he thrusts forward.

Ja moves in front of you again, leaning down to look at you.

“Dirty girl,” he tuts. “Been needin’ this, huh?”

You stare at him, trying to look composed but your lips constantly fall open in synch with Brown’s movements.

“Needed us to take care ‘f your pretty pussy.” he coos and oddly, the words make you let out a silent moan. He notices your attempt in hiding it.

“Not you specifically.” you push the words out unevenly because you feel like the air is being fucked from your lungs. “You just got lucky.”

Brown was listening and he hums before spanking the sweet spot under your ass. It makes you yelp and jolt forward. Suddenly, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into you than before and you feel like you forgot how to breathe.

“You wanna cum?” Brown asks, seeming slightly agitated by your attitude again.

“You can’t make m-”

Before you can finish your sentence, he shuts you up by reaching beneath you and softly brushing his fingers against your clit. As if he knew what you were going to say so he decided to prove you wrong instead of answering.

“You wanna clench down around my dick? Finally let go and let me take care ‘f you?” he asks, leaning forwards to reach your ear.

Ja is looking up at him with a doubtful and questioning expression.

The offer sounds good but you choose to not answer.

“I’ll take real good care of ya.” he whispers through his heavy breathing. “Fuck you until you’re full of cum. I’ll have y’er legs shakin’ and shit.”

You whimper, feeling overwhelmed. It’s as if he knows exactly what your desperate body needs.

“You want that?” he asks, urging you to answer by fucking you deeper. You feel so close, loving the way he seems to fill you with the girth of his cock while rubbing your clit through your wet lips. Everything suddenly seems perfect.

“Yes-” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Can’t hear ya.” Brown breathes out, seeming to struggle to control himself.

“Yes!” you cry out, arching your back against him. “Please, please. Fuck-” Your hips push back once again. Any second now your orgasm will hit you.

He chuckles again but it almost goes unheard because you’re about to be flooded with pure bliss. Brown straightens his posture again and suddenly, his hips still.

You open your eyes, wondering whether he was readjusting his position but he just stopped.

In confusion, you turn your head and look up at him over your shoulder. There’s an evil smirk stretched across his face and suddenly you realise he screwed you over.

“Bad girls don’t get to cum.” he says, clearly amused by how confused and desperate you look.

“You’re fucking kidding-” you breathe out. He shakes his head no, looking at Ja who is now grinning too.

In a last attempt to please yourself, you rock your hips back and forth on his dick. Brown’s hands fly to your hips and he curses while digging his fingertips into your soft flesh, holding you still.

“Fuck- you slutty girl.” he swears.

Brown had to force himself to stop even though he wanted nothing more but to have you cum around him. He felt the need to fill you up and he will, but first, he and Ja need to teach you a lesson. One you won’t forget.

Ja stands up and starts to unbuckle his pants in front of you.

“Choke on his dick and I’ll think about it.” Brown says, tugging your hair back and making you look up at Ja.

“You assholes-” you mumble, still trying to calm down your breathing. Brown decides to take it up a notch and he slaps your pussy, making the area of your clit stingy unexpectedly.

You whimper, flinching again and tightening your grip around the edge of the table.

Ja pushes his pants down to his mid-thigh and you stare at him. We’re they both naturally this big or was it because we have Na’vi DNA now? Either way, it’s extremely intimidating and they is no way you think you can fit that in your mouth. You’re surprised you’re managing to take Brown who is still balls-deep inside you as we speak.

“Do it and I’ll let you cum.” Brown says, tilting your head up further to force your mouth open.

“If you listen, I’ll be nice when it’s my turn.” Ja grins, cupping your jaw now to replace Brown’s hand. Your eyes widen at the statement. His turn? You’ve never done anything like this. It’s always only been one person.

“You guys are so cruel.” you mutter, tipping your ears back and drooping your tail in defeat. Both men would almost feel sorry for you if you wouldn’t have had such a rude mouth before.

You huff out a sigh and Ja shifts closer, so you open your mouth. Your tongue slips past your lips and he rests his tip on it before inching forwards again.

You make sure to show your display of annoyance when wrapping your lips around his dickhead and gently suckling on it. But Ja isn’t looking at your eyes, he’s watching your saliva-coated, plump lips close around his girth. His body shudders and he places a hand into your hair, unable to tear his gaze away from your mouth.

You gently worship his tip, swirling your tongue around it before pressing it up against the slit of his dick. A low grumble erupts from deep within Ja’s chest and his muscles flex to prevent him from thrusting forwards into your warm mouth.

Proceeding with pleasuring him, you remove your lips from his tip and start sloppily licking up and down his length. Your tongue starts at his balls, slowly moving up and tracing along a vein until you reach his tip again.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he murmurs, clenching his stomach muscles in pleasure.

Behind you, Brown slowly pulls out of you, making sure not to trigger your or his orgasm just yet. However, you relax at the feeling of him moving again and let your mouth fall open. Ja uses this to his advantage, almost shoving half his length into your mouth. You don’t protest, you take it. Moving your head forwards, he already brushes against the back of your throat. The uncomfortable feeling makes you freeze your movements so that you won’t gag. Instead, you hiccup while he’s stuffed in your mouth and he grins.

“That’s it,” Ja praises, watching you fight back your gags. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

You look up at him with glassy eyes of slowly forming tears and he almost loses himself in them. Ja feels pity for you and looks back to Brown who is intently watching you work your way down Ja’s length.

“She’s bein’ good. C’mon.” he urges his friend and Brown’s eyes flicker up to Ja.

He nods with a smirk, deciding to tease you a little more before giving in to his and your desires. Brown holds his dick and glides his tip between your folds, watching with dilated pupils how your hips naturally chase his movements in an attempt to stuff yourself full with him again.

“Shit, you have it bad, huh?” he coyly teases, once again lifting your tail to clear his view of your dripping and throbbing heat.

Your ears tip back again. Not as bad as they had it earlier. It’s their fault for getting you so worked up now.

Brown notices the return of your attitude but this time it doesn’t annoy him, it fuels his lust for you.

He leans back down to you, placing his lips near your right ear and whispering, “I’m gonna fuck your pretty pussy until it hurts.”

Your eyes widen at his words but he almost instantly draws back, not waiting for your reaction. You stop paying attention to Ja for a few moments, especially when Brown snaps his hips forwards once more and fills you to the brim with his cock. Almost instantly, your back arches and he grabs a hold of your hips, starting to roughly fuck himself into you.

Ja gently nudges his hips forwards too, slowly urging you to take more of him. You resume your previous actions, and after a few minutes, you realise you can’t think straight. Your eyes flutter closed in pleasure every few thrusts and your mouth is hanging open with small droplets of saliva spilling from the sides. You can’t concentrate on Ja anymore and he pulls away. However, he isn’t disappointed in the slightest. Seeing your fucked-out facial expression is a sight he never wants to forget. He would have had to pull away anyway because he didn't want to cum just yet. The first time he gets to have you, he will release his load into you, to mark you as his. Well, Brown’s and his. Brown seems to have the same plan.

Brown’s thighs are slapping against the back of yours with each harsh thrust. He’s plunging his dick as deep as he can into you while digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass. To him, you are the most attractive and sexy thing he has ever seen. He never expected himself to be attracted to an Avatar, not even when he became a recombinant, but at the end of the day, it was you. And you are the best girl out there in both their opinions.

Your new body kept the slim waist you used to have and your soft hips and thighs. They never touched you before but they remembered your body.

“Mmm- fuck, ‘m so close.” you whimper, spreading your legs even further apart and giving yourself to him. Your movement makes Brown hiss. Seeing the girl he was secretly chasing, offer and open herself to him like this is a gift from heaven. Brown and Ja both desired you for a while, which is why their attraction to you spiralled out of control today. It’s another reason why they hated you. You were a bitch to them that they found hot, and it angered them that they had to resist you. At least until now. You had no right being so nerve-killing while looking good.

Brown once again decides to play with you, wanting to overstimulate you in the slightest. His hand once again dips under you and he’s rubbing his middle fingers between your lips and over your clit repeatedly.

You cry out, trying to distance yourself from the rough touch. Your body was still very sensitive from almost cumming before. But Brown held you in place and you had to embrace it, taking everything he’s giving you.

“Just like that baby,” he groans, “Cum for me.”

He continues exactly what he’s doing and the more you tense your body, the faster your orgasm approaches. It hits you like a huge wave, making you hold on to the edge of the table until your knuckles turn white. Your tail stretches upward and is trembling along with your legs. In a desperate attempt to prolong the bliss, your start pushing your hips back against Brown’s to meet his thrusts.

His breath gets caught in his throat and the mixture of your pussy clenching around him, almost sucking him in and refusing to let him pull out and seeing you fuck yourself on him again has Brown cumming.

His hips stutter and he’s sloppily humping your behind, finally shooting his load into your begging pussy and keeping you filled up by plugging your entrance with his cock. Your movements calm down and after a few moments, you’re both still and regaining your breath. He wasn’t lying when he said you’d be crying on his dick. A few tears of pleasure and overstimulation have already run down your cheeks.

He knows he’s been mean with teasing you and he loves how well you took his handling, baring through it all. Brown snakes an arm around your waist, lifting your upper body so that you’re standing in front of him while he stays buried deeps inside you. His arms embrace you from behind, holding you against his chest to make sure you don’t lose your balance. Brown rests his chin on your shoulder before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so good,” he whispers in praise, still not letting your warm body go.

This is a new side of him you’ve never seen and it makes you instantly melt and relax against him. You weren’t expecting to be treated so nicely after the argument you had earlier.

��Best girl out there.” he adds. His heavy breathing calms and gently fans against the skin of your neck. The praise sounds so rewarding.

You lean back and close your eyes for a few seconds, relaxing and regaining strength after almost losing control of your trembling body.

Ja walks around the table, watching your interaction before stopping in front of you. Your hazy eyes slowly open and meet his. His hand reaches for you and he leans forward, closing the gap between your lips. You don’t resist. Sure, there were occasions where both of them really got on your nerves and you were sure that if you had a loaded gun in your hand during those times, you would kill them. Earlier today, your weapons weren’t loaded. But somehow you seemed to solve each other's problems now, so why not let it happen?

His hands were all over you, skimming down your waist before gently starting to bunch up the cloth of your tank top. You let him slip it off you while Brown watched, still not removing himself from inside you. Brown’s fingertips traced along your ribcage, exploring the new skin you showed them while Ja started fumbling with your sports bra, slowly tugging it up and over your head so that it could join your pile of clothes on the floor.

You were completely bare in front of them but since your body was cradled between them so you didn’t feel exposed to the room.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty…” Ja whispers, staring at all of you. Behind you, Brown hums in approval and you can feel the vibrations come from his chest. He continues to hold you while Ja cups your breast and kisses you again.

You’re so lust-drunk even after the orgasm Brown gave you, you moan into the kiss. It drives Ja wild, and he intensifies his actions.

“My fucking turn.” he grumbles, pulling away and staring down at your bare pussy. Brown obliges. He’s had his time with you, now Ja should too.

Slowly, Brown retracts his dick from inside you, leaving you sore and hollow. You let out a soft whimper as he pulls away, being nudged against Ja’s now bare chest. He holds you upright while Brown sorts himself out, probably putting his pants back on.

After a little less than a minute, I feel Brown’s presence behind me again. It confuses me but Ja doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.

His left arm once again wraps around your waist, tighter than before and his right hand stretches down to grab the backside of your knee. Ja reaches for your other leg, placing his palm on the back of your thigh before both men suddenly lift your feet off the ground. You hold on to their arms, gripping their biceps in an attempt to steady yourself. The sudden movement is a surprise to you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Ja grins, placing one of your legs over his shoulder while Brown continues to effortlessly hold you in the air. “We got you.”

You’re staring at him with wide eyes, definitely impressed by their strength. Ja doesn’t waste time with you. He’s already pressing his leaking tip against your entrance. The fact that Brown’s cum is dripping out of you doesn’t bother him at all. As long as it’s either of them fucking you and no one else, they don’t have a problem with it.

“Ready?” he asks, helping Brown hold you up by holding the underside of your thighs.

You gulp nervously, still feeling slightly sore from Brown’s brutality.

He smirks. “I’ll be careful.”

You exhale shakily before nodding. “Okay.”

He pets your thigh as if to show you he liked your answer before he starts to slowly enter you. You squirm in their arms but they keep a firm hold of your body, holding you in place until Ja bottoms out. It’s easier for him to enter you after your pussy has been worked open by Brown.

“Good girl,” Brown whispers into your ear. “Show him how well you can take him.”

You let your head fall back against his shoulder, faintly nodding your head.

Ja’s lips are parted and his mouth is slightly hanging open as he pants. It’s been too long since either of them have felt pleasure like this. Too long since they’ve been with a woman, but hell, you beat them all.

Ja is starting to hastily thrust himself inside you while watching your expression. It seems so soreness has faded or at least it’s been concealed by lust once more. He is also still stimulated from your sloppy blowjob so Ja has to hold back a little to not cum instantly. He’s into messiness and sloppy sex. It’s his favourite thing, which is probably also why the squelching sounds of your slick and Brown’s cum along with the way the fluids are dripping down you and coating his length, turn him on even more.

“Got one more in ya?” he asks between breaths. At this point you’re so mindblown by the way they have and are fucking you, you could cum on command.

“Yes- fuck. It’s so good-” you breathe out, arching your back again and throwing your head back. Brown’s lips attach to the side of your neck and he nibbles and sucks on your skin. The hickey that he is forming is the least of your concerns. To be completely honest, you want to be covered with them. You want to be theirs in every way possible.

“Let go baby, can’t hold it much- longer.” he struggles to say. The feeling of your wet cunt welcoming him in is exactly what he needs.

And just like on command, you cum. Brown holds you tighter while your body trembles and your toes curl. You’re a moaning mess and a few seconds after you, Ja is stuffing your pussy full of his cum, emptying his load into your drenched hole.

He’s cursing your name and holding you so tightly, his hands leave red marks on your thighs.

“Goddamn. Didn’t know you had it in ya.” Brown grins, continuing to steadily hold you while you and his friend calm down.

“Might have to start forgetting to put away gym equipment on purpose now.” he chuckles, and you scoff and Brown’s joke.

“The only reason this happened is because you morons can’t keep your shit under control.” you say. You would have been fine. They were throwing a tantrum.

Brown frowns. “And just like that, the good girl is gone again.”

“Good girl my ass, this is your doing.” you reply. They’re the reason you get so annoyed with them.

“Maybe we just need to keep fuckin’ her. Then she won’t be talkin’ to us like a bitch anymore.” Ja adds to the conversation.

“Permanent sex to keep your filthy mouth closed and bad attitude gone.” Brown chuckles.

“Forget it, I’m so done right now.” You shut their idea down as your voice slowly recedes to a whisper. You’re exhausted.

They don’t argue with you and carefully place you back on the ground. While you all get dressed you continue to throw insults each other's way but at this point, it’s all playful.

You’re all behind schedule now with your tasks so you sit down again and get back to work on cleaning your weapons. For the next hour or so, all three of you continue talking. The teasing doesn’t stop but you’ve discovered that you hate them a little less now.

Tag List: @ken-dala @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @numarusworld @number1gal @ikranwings @jatwow

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writingonleaves · 3 months

Text

things you never said (things you'll never say to me) - nico hischier

pairing: nico hischier x original female character

warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, not my traditional fluff folks, very little dialogue, kinda a ramble disguised into a piece lol, google translated german, projection?? is that a valid warning

inspired by + title: "things i wish you said" by sabrina carpenter

word count: 2.8k

author's note: got into my feels randomly for this (incredible) song and decided to write something with it. also a part of @wyattjohnston 's lowkey loverfest 2k24!! hope you all enjoy this melancholy ride and please let me know what you think <3

*****

Nico Hischier has always been a leader.

You ask anyone in Naters or Bern who knew him growing up and they would say the same thing — he’s a polite, young boy with so much talent and a sensible mind. He may be the youngest of three, but everyone’s always turned to Nico for guidance. With a calming voice paired with a warm smile, it’s rare for Nico to steer anyone wrong.

And he sees it in himself too. Even when he was a rookie, when the C stitched into his jersey was only a blurred dream, he still felt like he had to lead by example. No one was expecting that of him, he knows that now, but he was a first overall pick, the weight of a losing team’s hopes on his shoulders. If he crumbled, those supporters’ hopes fell with him. His own hope would fall with him.

It took a few years, a pandemic, another first overall pick, a shit ton of roster changes, a new coach and other things to walk into a locker room that wasn’t used to losing. And Nico prides himself as being a leader in that transition. C on his jersey or not, he would’ve done it. Because he doesn’t know how not to.

Leanna always said he didn’t know how to turn it off.

When Nico had first met Leanna Spritz, it honestly was one of the worst first impressions he’s ever given. It was the morning after a brutal 6-1 loss against the fucking Flyers. The final score itself was bad, but the fact that it was against the Flyers rubbed more salt into the wound. He knew Lindy was gonna bag skate them all to hell and back the morning after and he just really wanted his cappuccino before to take away some of the bitterness.

All up in his head, he had crashed literally into Leanna. Before they both could comprehend, her cold brew had spilled. Somehow, Nico got away with an unnoticeable splash on his hoodie and no spillage from his own drink. But Leanna wasn’t so lucky. Her brown sweater wasn’t dark enough to hide the fact that half of her cold brew was on it while the other spilled to the ground.

“Fuck,” Nico had exclaimed, eyes widening and darting between her now coffee stained sweater, the empty cup on the ground and her red hair that only glistened with the sun rays. “Shit! I am so sorry. That’s totally my fault.”

Leanna had waved him away with a small chuckle as she dug into her purse for stray napkins. Far too nice for someone who now had coffee all over them because of him. “It’s okay. Mistakes happen.”

Nico looked at his watch and grimaced. Shit. He was going to be late to practice. And that would be even worse than usual with their horrible performance the night before. “Listen. I really want to buy you a coffee to make up for my clumsiness, but I’m gonna be late to work and-”

Leanna had nodded in understanding, lips quirked up. “Don’t worry about it. Promise. Go. Don’t be late for work.”

He had been so frazzled that all he remembered doing was blurting out another apology before practically running away, partially from embarrassment but also because he really did have to go.

A week later, Nico went back to the coffee shop. In the back of his mind was the redhead who he still owed a coffee to. But Nico’s also realistic and he knew he’d probably never see her again.

While he was patiently waiting in the long line, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He braced himself to interact with a fan, but turned around and was pleasantly surprised by who he did see.

“I thought that was you,” she had said, pink beanie over her hair and a twinkle in her eye. “Not going to spill coffee again on me, are you? I’m wearing white today.”

Nico swallowed before his brain turned back on and he grinned. “Good eye. And no. I promise I’ll be less clumsy today. And I’m less in a rush.” They were next in line to order and he ordered first before turning to her. She had tried to deny him but he just raised an eyebrow until she gave the barista her order.

“I’m really sorry again,” Nico said as they had shuffled out of line to wait for their drinks. “I hope the sweater didn’t stain.”

Leanna waved him off with her bright smile. “That sweater has been through too much for some coffee to ruin it. You don’t need to worry, Captain.”

Nico had been shocked that she knew who he was, which, in hindsight, is dumb. He’s not Jack, but he gets recognized a good amount around New Jersey still.

He cleared his throat. “Nico is fine.”

She smiled. “Okay, Nico. Well, I’m Leanna. Thank you for paying for my coffee. You didn’t have to, by the way, especially to clear your conscience.”

“That’s not why-well, it is. But I also, uh, are you in a rush?”

Nico remembers that day so well still, his English failing him despite living in North America for over five years as he basically asked Leanna on their first date right there and then. He remembers being thankful that she took some pity on him with her sweet smile and led them to a table. He probably would’ve stood there stuttering like a fool if she didn’t cut in.

“Nico?”

Nico blinks himself out of his memories as Jack walks into his living room. Sometimes he questions if he should’ve given Jack a key.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“We have skate,” Jack gives him a look. “Dude, take a shower. Quickly. Or we’ll be late.”

“Right,” Nico says, stumbling over to the shower. As the water’s warming up, his eyes stop at a purple bottle tucked in the corner of the sink. Hair oil. Leanna always joked that she couldn’t live without it. His hands twitch to reach for the bottle just so he can smell the grapefruit scent, but he forces himself into the shower instead.

He can hear Nina’s voice so clearly. Throw it away, she’d say in their mother-tongue that realistically Nico will never not be fluent in but sometimes is scared will slip away. Nina liked Leanna a lot, actually, the one time they met when she came to Jersey to visit last year. But Nina is also Nico’s sister, and cursed her name many times when Nico called her crying, waking her up in the middle of the night. She had stayed on the phone with him for three hours, letting him cry.

He forces himself to take a shower. To wake up a bit and shift his focus to the upcoming skate and game tonight. They’re playing the Rangers, which is just always a grind. He needs to be all in.

Nico keeps to himself while getting ready for practice, putting on his gear quietly while his teammates chatter about something or another around him. He speaks quickly to the equipment team about his skates and smiles in thanks. He catches a whiff of the perfume of their head of PR as she walks past in the hallway, and Nico swallows.

Realistically, he knows it’s not the same one. But it’s floral and smells like jasmine, so it might as well be.

As he’s driving home, he has the radio down low. He was never the one to fuss about putting his music on in the car. Because the world just works like that, a song that he doesn’t know the title to comes on. He hums along, because Leanna always played this song.

Instinctively, his fingers twitch to reach out to someone who won’t ever be in his passenger seat ever again. He can hear her voice, her thigh under his palm. It’s not safe to drive with one hand, she’d say with an amused laugh interlaced in her voice. He would always roll his eyes before giving her thigh a squeeze and keeping his hand there for the majority of their journey.

He remembers that sentence bringing him comfort when they were driving to her sister’s house in upstate New York. He was scared shitless to meet her whole family for the first time to celebrate her cousin’s birthday. It was below freezing point outside, but his hands were so clammy that one would’ve thought it was summer.

Leanna had put her hand in his hair at the nape of his neck. He had immediately calmed down.

He swears if he focuses hard enough he can still smell the green tea shampoo Leanna used. It was always interesting to him, because the first thing he would think of when he saw her flaming red hair wasn’t green tea. It deserved something more bold attached to it. Like orange. Or vanilla. Or coconut.

Because Leanna was exactly that. Bold. Bright. Crashing into the lives of everyone in her path with her bright smile, loud laughter and a personality that sucked you in.

Nico stops at a red light and absentmindedly looks to the right. His breath catches at the sight of a woman walking a beagle. Leanna always said that once she was more settled down, a beagle was the kind of dog she wanted to get, just like the dog she had by her side throughout her whole childhood.

At one point, Nico had thought she meant settling down in Jersey. Never did she give the indication while they were together that she had meant London.

He couldn’t force himself to unfollow Leanna on Instagram after the break-up. He catches himself way too often seeing if she still follows him. She does. And she even likes his posts most of the time. He checks.

Nico shouldn’t be surprised. Even though she cried so much when they broke up and he couldn’t handle it, through tears, she wished him nothing but the best. Even as she was actively breaking his heart.

As he pulls into the parking garage for his apartment complex, he kills the engine and just sits there. He should be focusing on the game tonight. Focusing on how they need to stop taking stupid penalties. Focusing on their positioning in the offensive zone.

You think too much, honey. Leanna would say, kissing his forehead twice, something she started doing to calm him down. You just need to play hockey. Least that’s what you always tell me. Everything else will follow.

And he would never admit it out loud — especially to Jonas — but he still repeats those words in his head. He’s not sure if it works, but it’s like a mantra. A routine. And hockey players know more than anyone how important routines are and how difficult they are to change.

It’s been two months and three days. It’s annoying that Nico can still hear her voice in his head, clear as day. He hopes one day he’lll never be able to remember. But he also dreads the day that he’ll forget what she sounds like.

He walks up into his apartment and pours out a glass of water, downing it in one go. The sun’s out for the first time in two weeks, and a small smile spills on his lips as he admires the sunlight through his glass windows. His eyes shift to a spot on one of the tables by the window on the right, where it seems like something is shining. His curiosity takes over and he walks over, a reminder popping into his brain that he needs to dust his apartment. Why does dust accumulate so quickly anyways?

His stomach drops. One of her combs placed nonchalantly behind one of his plants. The shine is coming from the light hitting the red hair caught between the bristles.

What the fuck?

Nico closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before hastily grabbing the comb and tossing it into the trash. She never officially moved in with him, but she was around the apartment enough to leave some things lying around here and there. He thought he had thrown everything out. Or more accurately, he trusted Jesper, Timo and Jack to do it for him during a particularly bad Saturday afternoon two weeks after everything fell to shit.

He checks the time and sighs. He needs to nap or else everything will be thrown off. Checking his phone to make sure no one needs him, he plugs it in to charge by his bedside, ignoring a text from Nina he’ll answer when he wakes up.

It’s a text she sends a few times a week when she senses that her younger brother’s having a harder day. From almost 4,000 miles, she still knows. Nico’s always loved his sister, but he’s never felt more grateful to have her as he has in these last few months.

eins zu zehn?? ❤️

One to ten, it translates to. On a scale of one to ten, how shitty or good are you feeling about it today?

Nico sighs, responds back with a 6, and wills his mind to rest.

Somehow, he wakes up decently well rested to his alarm. He stays in bed a few extra minutes, getting his mindset ready for gametime. He chooses to wear the gray three piece suit tonight. One of his more fancier fits. It is the Rangers, after all.

It was Leanna’s favorite suit of his. She always joked he “ruined the look” when he slapped on his beloved white beanie. I love your hair. I wish you’d show it off more, she’d say.

He digs out the beanie from his clean laundry.

He always leaves an hour or so to himself before he has to go to the rink. He usually spends it tidying up or doing things around his place to clear his head so he can come back after the game and just crash.

Today, he replays the breakup in his mind. Or what he remembers of it, since he blocked a lot of it out.

When you picture your future, do you see me in it at all? He had choked out, holding Leanna’s hands in his for what was the last time.

It hadn’t helped that she had also been crying as she said her next words. Neeks, baby. It’s not you, it’s me. And I hate that I’m pulling that out, but it’s true. Maybe this isn’t the right time for us.

Why can’t it be? Nico had said. Why can’t we make it work?

Maybe in the future, if things are different. She had said, biting her trembling lip. But even then, Nico knew they were empty promises. She’s too stubborn of a person to not bend the world her way. She just doesn’t want Nico to be a part of that world.

It’s not fair, he knows that realistically, but oftentimes he wonders if she ever loved him at all. That thought especially rode his mind after he saw her post a story on Instagram earlier last week. It was clearly a soft launch, with her hand in the hand of some faceless guy over dinner. Nico ended up scoring two goals that night out of sheer adrenaline and anger.

Because all he’s ever wanted was for Leanna Spritz to be happy. Even now. Even after all of this. Even if it’s not with him.

But fuck, she’s clearly moving on. Why can’t he?

He blinks, collapsing on his couch in the living room and staring at the wall. The last time he heard from her was a month ago, when he had gone down after a rough hit during a game against Minnesota. He ended up only being out for the next two games, but the hit hadn’t been pretty. His chest had taken the brunt of the damage. Everyone, including him, had been relieved that it wasn't more serious.

While he was getting checked out by the trainers the next morning, his phone had buzzed and he almost threw up.

Leanna Spritz✨

I saw the hit last night. Hope you’re okay. Listen to the trainers.

Nico was angry. What right did she have to text him that?

But then, he just felt sad. That bottomless pit in his stomach opened up. He felt nothing but emptiness.

His phone buzzes, this time with a text from Timo, and Nico takes a deep breath. It’s game time. No more crying over his ex-girlfriend.

As he’s sliding on his beanie in the bathroom, he catches sight of the hair oil again. He picks it up, smells it, before throwing it in the trash. It lands on the bottom of the can with a final thud. He clicks all the lights off, makes sure he has everything he needs, grabs his key off the hook and shuts the door.

Two hours later, everyone’s getting hyped up. He gives a mini impromptu speech, Jack slaps his back way too hard and Nico smiles, dimples and all.

He takes a deep breath before his blades touch the ice.

#lowkey loverfest 2k24 #k writes #hockey fanfic #hockey writing #hockey blurb #nico hischier #new jersey devils #nico hischier fic #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier writing #nhl #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nico hischier x oc

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mellowsaturns · 2 years

Text

do you hear my heart? (don’t forget it)

BUCKY BARNES X READER

wc: 3.4k

warnings: past trauma, self-doubt, mild violence, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

summary: a fight in the office happens because of a broody super soldier which leads to said soldier coming to your apartment to check up on you

masterlist

___

As if life doesn’t throw enough shit in your way, getting into a fight with your co-worker was the last thing you thought your week would end with.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t completely unexpected. One of the data analysts that works in the Tower was going to get their shit rocked one day or another. If not by you, definitely another fellow colleague who actually had enough decency to keep their thoughts to themselves.

As an intelligence analyst yourself, it was unfortunate that you had to share the floor with her. Usually, you don’t pay attention to what she says because it’s irrelevant to you anyways. But today, you coincidentally heard her talking about a fellow Avenger like she knows them.

She doesn’t.

So what gives her the right to say out-loud, in her annoying voice that Steve Rogers shouldn’t have brought Bucky Barnes into the Avengers Tower because it would be a threat to all of the people here and a bunch of other nasty off-hand comments?

God that infuriated you. It really infuriated you because the next thing you knew, her white blouse was soaked in the leftover coffee you had in your mug. Let’s just say she didn’t take it well and it took some time before the two of you were pulled back, nasty snares on both of your faces.

You got an earful from your chief, something about professionalism but you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus was on the stinging of your right cheek and how nice the ice pack felt against it. Yeah. So that’s how your Friday at the office went.

Driving back home to your little apartment in Queens, the traffic gave you time to ponder about what happened and what the fuck were you thinking? Throwing coffee at a co-worker and having a little wrestling match on the floor? What in the world possessed you to do something like that?

Oh right, it was Bucky fucking Barnes.

A few years ago, Natasha asked you to find information on a trained assassin (because she doesn’t trust anyone but you) and you happily did (because you loved her like a sister). Who would’ve thought the infamous Winter Soldier you told her about was actually Steve Rogers’ long lost friend? And as Steve’s friend you obviously helped him as much as possible, finding every piece of obtainable information about Bucky’s potential whereabouts after the Triskelion mess.

And you just happened to develop a stupid crush on him.

Grunting in annoyance, your steps were heavy as you walked up the stairs. Sorry to the neighbours.

“Any harder and you’ll punch a hole straight through the floor,” a low voice called out.

Whipping your head up at the familiar voice, a surprised expression adorned your face as Bucky leaned against the wall beside your front door.

"Heard what happened today, you okay?”

Oh god. He’s here. Did you get smacked so hard that you’re actually in dreamland?

His calling of your name snapped you back from your little trance.

“How do you know where I live?” you blurted out, almost too rushed and loud that you had to shut your lips in embarrassment.

He shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Got it from Steve.”

“Oh… yeah… right.” You shifted nervously, “you want to come in?”

A single hum from him answered your question. You opened the door to your apartment and turned on the lights.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge to gulp down a bottle of cold water to cool your growing body temperature.

“M’ fine.”

You hate how your heartbeat can’t seem to control itself whenever you're around him. Even at the Tower, you had a hard time controlling your nerves around him, but at least there were usually other people around—Steve, Nat, Sam and even Tony when he wasn’t locking himself up building his suits—who made it easier for you to carry on the conversations and the rare times when Bucky would ask you something. The Tower was also big enough to run away whenever you saw him coming into a room you were solely occupying. Where could you hide in your 600 sq. ft apartment?

“S’okay if I sit down?”

You nodded your head, gesturing for the couch. Joining him a minute later, you cleared your throat. “So… What brings you here?”

Bucky looked at you in confusion before pointing to his right cheek. Furrowing your brows, you brought your hand to your face and flinched slightly from the small jolt of pain, bringing you back to reality.

Oh yeah, that’s why he’s here.

Bucky shifted closer to you—although you could tell it was with hesitation—and tilted his head to get a better look, and sighed.

"No big deal," you said, trying to assure him and yourself at the close proximity.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," you said softly, averting your eyes to the carpet.

He frowned and scooted even closer to you. Leaning so he could take a better look, his face was mere centimeters away from yours. He used his hand to brush off the hair that stuck onto your cheek and gently touched the area. You flinched slightly, not because it gravely hurted but because Bucky's fingers were so, so cold against your burning cheek. He mumbled a quiet apology before examining it more. "Doesn’t look too bad. Should get better in a few days," he murmured to you or to himself, you didn’t quite know.

He pulled away. “Be more careful next time, okay? You don’t have to defend me. I learnt to ignore those comments.”

You looked up at him and met his eyes—eyes you could get lost in if you weren’t careful, much like the endless depth of blue waters of the oceans. “But do you believe them?”

You know he’s aware of such comments. Hiding his metal hand with leather gloves, never wearing short sleeves in the summer despite seeing the sweat drip down the sides of his face, always wearing some kind of jacket, the way he would stand or sit at the back during meetings to make his presence as minimal as possible, averting his eyes whenever someone tries to talk to him, wearing caps in public to hide portions of his face, you knew his past still haunted him.

You weren’t a stranger to such comments either. When Steve first brought Bucky to the Tower after clearing his name, all everyone could talk about was the Winter Soldier being in the same building as them. Even a year later, there was still talk, still how they can’t believe the Winter Soldier is in the same building as them with a grimace, but never about how Bucky Barnes managed to stay strong despite all the hell he’s been through with admiration.

Sometimes, the screams from his nightmares still haunt you. As the Avengers most trusted intelligence analyst, Tony had a spare room for you whenever you worked overtime. You would never forget the first time you jolted up from your sleep, frantic at the dreadful, agonizing, and heart-wrenching screams that filled the empty darkness in the Tower. Nat stalked into your room to assure you everything was okay, that it was just Bucky having nightmares again. Again. God, how many times did he get such horrible dreams? It broke your heart. Yet, when you woke up the next day and walked into the shared kitchen, Bucky was there listening to Sam crack some inappropriate joke at eight-o’clock in the morning with a small smile on his face despite his dark circles and sullen complexion. You thought to yourself at that moment that he was the strongest person you have ever met.

That’s why you get so defensive whenever someone talks about him as if they know him. They would never understand what he had gone through, and from reading the intel you had once gathered for Steve, you don’t think just anyone could have survived being under Hydra. But it was Bucky Barnes. He was strong and tough and resilient, enduring for that day someone comes and finds him and saves him from his endless hell. His recovery was brutal too. Steve would tell you about it, but all you could think about was how admirable he was, never giving up on the journey back to a normal life despite the phantom torments and prejudices against him.

You wish he knew that.

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“Bucky… It's easy to ignore those comments, but believing them is another thing. Do you… do you believe them? What they are saying?”

He didn’t know how to reply. With that much blood on his hands alongside being brainwashed for seventy years in the most inhumane ways, he just can’t help but to believe he became what they forced upon him.

There were times when he would accidentally use too much strength and break his toothbrush. There were times when he knocked Sam over a bit too hard during training. There were times when the fork in his metal hand would bend over like a folded chair without him realizing because his metal arm still had control over him. Then there were the times people side-eyed him and hushed whispers among each other as he walked across the lobby to exit the Tower. And there were the faces of his victims that haunted him in his dreams almost every night.

So, yeah. Bucky guess he does believe what they are saying—a small part of it was the truth anyways.

“I have seventy years of repentance, doll. The soldier doesn’t just go away that easily.”

You didn’t miss the flash of guilt and sadness in his eyes (or the term of endearment from his mouth). “I think you’re being too harsh on yourself. I know you probably get sick of hearing it but that wasn’t you. It was never you. How can you repent for something you didn’t do?”

“I still did it anyway.”

“And you also chose not to. You chose to trust Steve. You chose to trust the Avengers. I know you were still weary and not quite… Bucky yet. But you still took their help. Despite everything the soldier did, you chose to be good, you chose to cut ties with him because deep down, you knew you were still Bucky Barnes. The one who used to beat up Steve’s bullies.”

He smiled slightly at that. Maybe you’re right.

Bucky can admit that he has come a long way since the cold calculated assassin he once was. He would never forget the feeling of accepting Steve’s help, the uncertainty, the unknowns, the vulnerability. But he was so sick of killing, so sick of the blood, so sick of the demands, so sick of the torture, so sick of being on the wrong side. Bucky didn’t want any of it anymore.

Living at the Avengers Tower wasn’t easy. After being alone in a dark cold chamber for almost all his life, the big unfamiliar space was difficult to adjust to. But he had Steve, and everyone else who opened up to him to provide that normalcy he never thought he would have again. And there was also you.

He would never forget the first time he saw you at the Tower, perched up on the kitchen counter, dangling the vine of grapes above your mouth as Natasha tells you about her latest mission.

You were listening attentively until she called out his name out of nowhere, making you turn around and stretch your neck to see him lingering in the hallway corner. He met your eyes and wondered how they possibly could shine so brightly. And the smile you gave him. Bucky wasn’t an artist like Steve was, but at that very moment, all he wanted to do was capture your beauty and frame it in order to preserve the moment forever.

He saw you a few more times afterwards. Twice in the training room, three times in the lobby, six times in the living room, eight times in the meeting room, and ten times in the kitchen.

He should have been more careful around you. Despite being friendly with Steve, you were still a stranger. But after you left during his first encounter with you that day in the kitchen, Nat quietly told him that you were the one who spent hours digging up information to pinpoint his whereabouts, helping them find him and gathering enough intel to help clear his name. He thinks he has trusted you ever since.

He still found it difficult to talk to people like Tony or Bruce or Clint. But with you, it was so easy. It was so easy to talk to you. So easy to be around you. So easy to touch you—like he just did moments ago. Bucky wasn't a man of many words—that was a lifetime ago—but with you, he felt like the old Bucky could come back, the one who effortlessly charmed girls into a dinner and a dance.

But there were times he noticed you exiting rooms whenever he came by. He noticed how your voice sort of shakes whenever you talk to him in the Tower. And he thinks that the Bucky Barnes from the 40s who girls absolutely adored was long gone.

“So… why did you come here? Like really come here?” You asked once again.

Not that you mind, it was always a joy to see him. But there was no way he came because he was worried about you right? You were just some analyst that spent way too much time in the Avengers living quarters who free loaded their kitchen.

But he looked so worried. And he touched your cheek like it was no big deal, and it looked like it was painful for him to see you in such a state that it made your own heart clench.

“Just came to check up on you,” he replied.

During training, Steve came in to tell him that you got in a physical fight with one of your co-workers today. Bucky was confused as to why Steve would tell him this, but he couldn’t stop and began bombarding him with questions: if you were okay, if you needed to go to the hospital bay, if you needed emergency care, if you were at the hospital right now, who was the person who hurted you, what was their name. Sam came in shortly afterwards and told him the whole story—because of course Sam would know the details—and Bucky rushed out of the training room not before Steve gave him your address because somehow he knew Bucky would come here.

He knew he shouldn’t have come here. He knew you would have felt uncomfortable in his presence. Why else would you act the way you do around him? Maybe he should leave before he does anything stupid and scare you off for good.

But you had said all those comforting words to him prior. You understood him, you helped him, you were friendly to him, you reassured him—and he knew it wasn’t out of pity or a paycheck, it was out of the goodness of your own heart. And you sometimes looked at him with such sparkle in your eyes that he wanted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.

“Thank you. But I’m okay, really. You should head back to the Tower, it’s getting late.” Although, what you really wanted to say was: “Thank you for coming here. It means a lot. But really, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

Huh?

He must’ve noticed your confusion. “Why would you… hurt yourself to… defend me?”

You really said the latter out loud. Oh god… Might as well admit the truth right?

“Because… because I think you’re worth fighting for.” And that was the absolute truth.

Bucky knows you’re not a super soldier with enhanced hearing, but he wonders if you can hear his rapid heartbeat right now.

The Winter Soldier had hurt people and Bucky was hurt by people. But here you were, hurting people and getting hurt because of him—for him. He didn’t know whether to yell at you or hug you.

“I’m serious. You’re so… inspiring. I admire you a lot,” you added, just to make sure he knows.

Bucky released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I always thought you were afraid of me. A bit, anyways. You’re so cheerful around others but whenever I come around… I would see you leaving and whenever I ask you for help on my phone, your voice sometimes shakes and I—”

“Bucky!” You called out to stop his rambling. Did you seriously make him feel like that because of your own inability to control your feelings for him? You wanted to smack yourself. “I am not afraid of you. Never. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m… I’m just not very good at hiding my feelings.”

“Hide your feelings?”

You laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? I like you. More than I should. It’s stupid. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable by telling you this. I understand if you don’t feel the same. You’re healing and you shouldn’t be thinking about things like dating and love. And besides, I’m just some nobody analyst who Tony pays way too much for no reason.”

Bucky was speechless. Did you really think you were a nobody?

“You’re not a nobody… you’re you. The one everyone in the team depends on. You’re so important to the team. I’ve only been around for a year or so but I can tell they love you. Everyone in the Tower. You’re important. You’re family.”

You think you could cry. But then he continues. “You’re important to me. You make me feel… normal. As close to normal I can get anyways. When I look at you, when I’m around you, I feel like I can be… Bucky. I know I still have a long way to go, but everytime I see you, I feel like I have a reason to try harder. And if it's anything, I feel like I don’t deserve someone like you in my life because you’re this beautiful human being and I’m this—”

You were seriously crying now, and Bucky stopped. You were always doubtful about your skills and importance, but Bucky’s sincere words… you wanted to enclose them in a locket and wear it forever to make sure your heart always remembered them.

“What’s wrong? Did I say—”

You shook your head and wiped the tears away. “No, you didn’t say anything wrong.” You laughed, “That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.” You knew he meant all those words from the bottom of his heart. And that subtle confession… you think you could die.

God, the two of you were absolute idiots.

“You… believe me right?” said Bucky.

You nodded, “if only you believe me.”

Bucky wanted to tell you that your words meant more to him than any kind of counsel and guidance that his therapist had told him. But the silence between the two of you was so comforting that he just wanted to stay like this. He will tell you another time. After tonight, he thinks he has all the time in the world to tell you—tell you everything—without the barrier of unsure feelings and hesitancy.

After a moment of serene silence, you looked up and met his eyes again and smiled. “You know. You just made me like you a hundred times more than I already do.”

“You like me?”

“Did you not hear what I just said earlier?”

He smirked. “Mm’ just wanted to hear you say it again.” There he was, the Bucky from the 40s who charmed girls out of their socks.

You snorted. “I like you. I like you so much that I think I would have exploded if I held it in any longer. Happy?”

He nodded, and cleared his throat once his eyes averted to your cheek again. “You should probably ice your….”

“I have frozen peas in my freezer.”

“I’ll get it,” he said, getting up and stalking towards your refrigerator. As you watched him from behind, you noticed he didn’t wear his gloves. He never forgets his glove before going out. And when he came back with the miserable looking green bag, he used his left hand to hold the bag against your cheek. The fact that Bucky chose to use his metal hand this time instead of his fleshy right one like you remembered him doing when he brushed your hair out of your face—it made your heart swell.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky x you #originally posted on ao3

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blondeboyfriend · 10 months

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is HEAVILY inspired by the business card scene in American Psycho. (I wrote this back in 2021 for a collab.) [ SYNOPSIS ] Zeke's perceived inadequacy leads him to a situation that only exacerbates his insecurities. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU (duh), not a big fan of the term "crack fic" but that's basically what this is, Zeke's only a few years older than the rest of the Warriors, sharing nudes without consent, smutty stuff is mentioned, alcohol, marijuana, body horror (Zeke describes scaphism in great detail), Zeke's probably ooc because I basically turned him into Patrick Bateman.

Zeke’s standing in the back of the bar, cornered by his friends. His life is in shambles because you dragged him to a birthday party in the nicest part of the city on the very night he decided to make a major life choice. Tonight was the night he said fuck it and shaved off his beard.

“You look like a baby,” Porco laughs.

“Like an angular baby, like a baby with good cheekbones,” Bertholdt, the birthday boy, mutters to himself.

“Can I touch your face?”

Zeke clenches his jaw and goes to speak only to be interrupted by Reiner's tender touch.

“Wow, that is soft. You got really soft skin. What do you use?”

Zeke smacks Reiner's hand away and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away his residual touch. The meathead’s compliment was sufficient; there was no need to make physical contact.

“Sisley’s Black Rose Skin Infusion Cream.” Zeke sighs, accepting Reiner’s interpersonal failure. “How drunk are you?”

Reiner grins.

“I don’t know but your girlfriend’s the one that’s making them,” Reiner says before dissolving into the crowd.

Zeke questions whether or not Reiner was actually there in the first place. He could have merely been an anxiety induced hallucination.

“I have to… go,” Zeke abruptly blurts out to no one in particular as he pushes himself through his group of friends.

Free from their grasp he kicks himself for being so inarticulate in such a genuine way. Usually his nerves were hidden by a veneer of stoicism, but now he wonders if maybe it was just the beard.

The bar is packed and Zeke stands on his tippy toes trying to see your little head bobbing around somewhere. So many people look like you from this distance. He takes off his glasses and squints but it does little to assist him. He nearly drops them as he maneuvers them back onto his face. Eventually he hears you cackling close by. He sighs heavily once he spots you behind the bar. You look angelic, a beacon of light in a sea of complete fucking bullshit. You look him in the eyes and smile, relief washing over him.

“Don’t you have to have a license or something to be back there?” he asks you, hiding his anxiety behind a facade of smugness.

You shrug and lean over the bar to kiss his forehead.

“They ain’t kicked me out yet so… I guess not.”

Zeke sits down on a bar stool and holds his head in his hands. He remembers that this is a private party and the likelihood of anyone actually giving a shit is slim to none.

“Reiner called you my girlfriend.”

“Ew, why?”

Zeke peers up from his hands, the rest of his face still obscured. Anything to hide his lack of facial hair.

“Because we showed up together and he probably heard us fucking in the bathroom earlier. Can you hold these for me? I almost dropped them.”

Zeke hands you his glasses and you tuck them away in your purse.You pat his head and ruffle his wavy blonde hair. He relishes in the gentle touch of your hand.

“Reiner’s an idiot. Want a shot?”

“Two. You know what I like.”

You grab a bottle of whiskey and overpour two shots. You pass one to him and go grab the other for yourself. Zeke grabs your wrist and stares up at you.

“They’re both for me.”

You shake your head and pour yourself one. Zeke downs the whiskey, savoring the smokey taste it leaves behind on his tongue. Just as he goes to ask you about how your day was Marcel fucking Galliard taps him on the shoulder.

“Buddy, it’s been too long. How ya been?”

Marcel is hammered and he lifts Zeke off the stool into a bear hug. Zeke feels the whiskey crawl up his throat, the most painful tickle he’s been subjected to.

“Ni—nice to see you. It has been awhile,” he chokes out.

Marcel loosens his grip and takes a seat next to Zeke. He looks impeccable, his hair perfectly quaffed. His skin was practically glowing. How could such a drunk guy look so put together and handsome?

“It has been a fucking while!” Marcel exclaims once more.

Zeke scratches his ear and then subtly waves you off. You slowly walk away backwards from the men, bumping into the actual bartender.

“Colt! Coltie Boy!... Damn, dude, you alright? You look tired.”

Marcel has mistaken Zeke for Colt Grice, one of the other tall blonde guys in their friend group. It seems logical because Colt works at the same middle school as Zeke doing the same exact thing he does, teaching language arts to seventh graders. Though Zeke thinks he’s smarter and more relatable to his students. It certainly doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen Marcel in years, who likely has forgotten what he looks like.

“Well I haven’t been getting much sleep. You know me, burning the midnight oil and all.”

Marcel laughs way too hard at Zeke’s joke which wasn’t even a joke in the first place.

He grabs Zeke’s shoulder and continues. “Great, that’s great. Such a hard worker. So uh, shit what’s her name… That girl you’ve been seeing.”

“Pieck.”

Marcel snaps his fingers and grabs Zeke’s shoulder again.

“Yeah, yeah, how’s Pieck? She’s a keeper. A great girl.”

“She’s good, couldn’t be happier with her. We’re thinking about getting a dog.”

“Wow, that’s—that’s great. You deserve it, man. You’re a good guy. Not like that dork Zach Yeager.”

“His name is Zeke, Marcel.”

“Who cares? You,” Marcel pokes Zeke in the chest, just barely missing his nipple, “you’re a good guy. You got your life together. Fuck Zach, man.”

Zeke nods in agreement.

“He’s a fucking dick, you know? Sure, yeah, I haven’t seen that weirdo in years, but I don’t even have to see him to know he’s—” Marcel pauses to burp into his hand. “excuse me. To know he’s a piece of shit.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan either.”

“Fucking wears dumb glasses, like dude get a normal pair.”

“I know, right?”

“Grandpas wear those glasses, Coltie. Grand. Pas.”

Just as Zeke feels like he’s going to vomit into his own lap Bertholdt pops up from behind Marcel, eyes full of concern.

“Hey Marcel, Porco’s out back and he’s not looking too good.”

Bertholdt’s a dirty liar and everyone except Marcel knows it. Porco’s tolerance is god-like, an unwavering cognitive marvel. Marcel sighs and stands up, stumbling out the door to the patio, Bertholdt trailing behind. He hits his forehead on the door frame on his way out.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you quietly ask, eating a maraschino cherry you stole from someone’s drink.

Zeke smiles and shakes his head.

“It could’ve been wor—”

“Oh shit! What happened? You kinda look like dad!”

Eren is standing in the doorway with a pair of wayfarers on. He definitely stole them from someone; there was no way he’d drop money on Ray Bans. He comes over and hugs Zeke from behind. Zeke appreciates Eren’s affection but it does nothing to soothe verbal assault he received from Marcel.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know that was fucked up,” Eren coos. “But I am right. I can’t help that.”

It doesn’t matter if Eren is right or not. Zeke’s ego is crushed beyond repair. You shoo his brother away and drag Zeke into one of the booths, sitting across the table from him. He frowns.

“Can you sit next to me?”

The alcohol is taking hold of him. He needs attention and affection, but not too much. Anything beyond you sitting beside him, holding him close, is simply unbearable. You switch sides and scoot close to him.

Zeke notices you staring at him. Your gaze is kind, kinder than a shithead like him deserves. He can’t remember a time in his life where he felt more insecure and unworthy of you. When your soft hand caresses his bare face he is slightly startled. However it’s a welcome gesture.

“I think you look good,” you purr.

He slinks down into his seat, bathing in your praise.

“I’m a little jealous of your jawline too.”

Zeke blushes.

“I look that good, huh?”

“No, you look like shit. I was lying the whole time. You’re the ugliest guy here.”

“Stop you’re going to make me fall in love with y—”

“Colt! The fuck?! What about Pieck, man?!”

You both turn to see a very drunk, very disheveled Marcel being carried out of the bar by Porco and Colt. Colt turns around, looking fresh as daisy, not a single line or wrinkle on his face; his skin smoother than a baby’s ass. He flashes an apologetic grin and lets go of Marcel, walking towards the two of you with utmost confidence. Porco crashes into a table because Marcel might as well be the most cumbersome person on the planet at this moment.

“This is probably the worst time to ask, but do you think I could use your study guides for my class tomorrow? I didn’t have time to throw anything together because Pieck and I were settling into our new apartment.”

Zeke wants to die right then and there. Zeke, who lives in a studio apartment with a chinchilla named Robert. Zeke, who will never own any form of home in his life. Zeke, who’s skincare routine will never make up for years of smoking and sitting in the sun.

“Wow! That’s so cool, Colt!” you pipe up, wrapping an arm around Zeke. He leans into you, desperately trying to disappear. He wants you to make the situation go away, to wrap it up with a little bow and toss it out a window.

“It’s a lot of work getting all that furniture into the penthouse that’s for sure.”

“I can imagine,” you reply eagerly, making up for Zeke’s awkwardness.

Colt just stands there grinning.

The lull in the conversation is too much for Zeke bear. He realizes he needs to open his mouth and speak.

“Uh, you can use my study guides.”

“Oh thank you! You’re a lifesaver.” Colt turns around to see the nuclear disaster that is the Galliard brothers. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to take care of that,” he laughs. “Let’s do dinner sometime!”

Once Colt is out of earshot Zeke falls to pieces.

“Let’s do an execution sometime, Colt. Just boil me alive, send me to the boats.”

Zeke notices the quizzical look you give him and tosses his head back and groans.

“It’s a form of execution where you trap someone between two boats—row boats not ocean liners.” He knows you all too well, your perception prone to the absurd. “And you force feed them milk and honey, and you cover them with it too. And then you leave them to fester and rot in the sun like in a lake or a river.” He coughs. “Death doesn’t come quickly obviously. Flies lay eggs in your wounds, feasting upon your infected flesh. Mosquitos rise from the putrid water and buzz around you. Your body decays right before your eyes.”

“Uh,” is all you can manage to spit out.

He can’t hide his disappointment, and avoids your gaze.

“I know something that’ll cheer you up.”

“What?” he asks.

“Wanna see some dick pics?”

Zeke’s attention is thoroughly piqued. He clears his throat, trying to mask his blatant curiosity.

“Sure. Whose do you have?”

You smirk. “I got everyone.”

“Do you go around showing these to everyone?”

Zeke panics remembering the series of dick pics he sent you one night after smoking two blunts by himself. So many different angles and his face was definitely in a few of them.

“Oh god no, I don’t show them to anyone.”

He bathes in a sea of relief.

“Okay good. Let me see.”

You pull out your phone and go to your hidden photos. A barrage of dicks show up on the screen all in various states of turgidity.

‘Wait, I want to see mine first.”

“Fine. Weirdo.”

You scroll down to find a picture of Zeke’s hard cock. A solid six inches. Circumcised. A few veins running along the length of it, more on the green side. It’s framed by curly, untrimmed, flaxen pubic hair which suddenly Zeke is weirdly self conscious about. He can’t help but wonder if Colt has untamed pubes.

“Should I wax?”

You look at him like he has three heads.

“What? No. I like them even if they get caught in my teeth occasionally.”

You pinch his cheek and Zeke lets out a little “phew”. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you told him otherwise. The idea of ripping out his body hair terrifies him. Shaving’s bad enough, the resulting emotional anguish a burden he struggles to bear. He might die if he added physical pain into the mix.

“I appreciate the angles,” you say. “It’s artistic. The lighting hits the cum dripping off the tip perfectly.”

Zeke basks in the light of your praise.

“Nice and erect, not floppy and flaccid. It’s one of my favorites.”

He shivers at the thought of sending you a photo of his limp dick. He’s a grower, not a shower, a fact that left him feeling inadequate if he thought too hard about it.

It was seemingly unfounded. You never expressed any displeasure when you’d pull his cock out of his pants and see it in its flaccid state. No hint of judgment when you got down on your knees and sucked him off. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

“Gimme a name.”

“Let’s see the birthday boy.”

You pull up a poorly lit photo of an incredibly erect cock. No veins, very smooth with an even coloring. Zeke notices he’s uncircumcised and tries to convince himself that his dick being circumcised makes him a better person than Bertholdt.

“It’s very long,” you say, zooming in on the dick and scrolling down. “Not super thick though.”

“I’m not impressed.”

Zeke takes pride in his cock being thicker than Bertholdt’s.

“Can I ask why you have a pic of his dick?”

“He was drunk and meant to send it to Annie.”

“And you kept it?”

“Hey, whoa. I did ask.”

Zeke gives you a quizzical look. He is having trouble discerning the situation at hand and it makes him feel like he’s dying. You pat his back.

“I was like, ‘Bertl, can I keep this?’ And he was like, ‘If you feel so compelled.’ And let me tell you... I was compelled.”

“Next one,” Zeke says, glaring at the dick on your phone screen.

“Okay,” you flip through your photos, “Porco.”

You hold up your phone, showing Zeke a still image of Porco furiously masturbating on the bathroom floor.

“D—did he set up a timer on his phone?”

“Yeah, grandpa, welcome to the 21st century. We’re happy to have you.”

“You’re two years younger than me, grandma.”

You stick your tongue out at him and zoom in on Porco’s cock. His cock curves upward quite a bit, veiny but not nearly as veiny as Zeke’s. The tip is a pearlescent pink. Porco managed to catch himself in the middle of his orgasm, cum spurting upward like a geyser.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“Cum looks a little thin, watery even.”

Zeke wants to tack on that his cum is more robust, but he realizes how pathetic it is to brag about.

“I like it when it’s thicker. Like if someone is going to come on me I wanna feel it splatter on my skin, you know?”

Zeke doesn’t know.

“Yeah I get that,” he lies.

“I appreciate the action of the shot, but it’s too busy. I see a bottle of Acqua di Gio on his bathroom counter. His plunger is in the background. I don’t like that his bathroom rug is orange.”

Zeke could hear you talk shit about Porco’s nudes all day.

“You lookin’ at Porco’s nudes?”

Reiner slides into the other side of the booth. He’s pretty drunk, skin a little pink, but he seems mostly there.

“Has everyone seen them?” Zeke asks in a panic.

“No. I overheard you guys talking,” he chastises. “You guys are really harsh critics.”

“I have standards, Reiner.”

“If people can be film critics, why not dick critics?” Zeke asks, genuinely wanting an answer.

“Hey!” You smack Reiner’s arm. “Can I show Zeke your dick?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t. I’m not an artist, but I’ve been told I have an eye for color,” he brags.

Zeke rolls his eyes. “Hush. Let’s see the dick.”

You pull up Reiner’s dick on your phone. It’s a lower body shot, just his torso and cock in view, it’s standing straight up. His body is framed by his earth toned bedding that makes his skin look divine. He’s statuesque, like a Greek god.

“Check out my cum gutters.”

“Reiner,” you exclaim. “Gross!”

“So Zeke, what do you think?” Reiner asks eagerly.

“Impressive,” Zeke chokes out. “Very nice.”

Zeke’s ready to move on. Reiner’s color coordinating bodybuilder nudes make him want to wear clothes for the rest of his life. He pictures himself dressed in his pajamas, standing in the middle of his shower, arms crossed, looking absolutely miserable.

“Hm, I think that’s all I have. Wait. Oh my god, I forgot I have your brother’s.”

Zeke is conflicted. On one hand he feels protective of Eren and wants to destroy your phone, preserving Eren’s honor. But on the other he wants to rip Eren’s head off for sending you a picture of his dick.

“I have one!” Reiner pipes up.

“Whose?” Zeke and you ask in unison.

“Colt’s.”

You start to shake your head. “No, no more dick pics. We’re done for the night.”

“No,” Zeke says, clenching his jaw. “Let’s see Colt Grice’s cock.”

You toss your head back and stare at the ceiling, preparing yourself for Zeke’s reaction. Reiner winces, realizing his mistake. But still he pulls out his phone.

“Why do you have a picture of his dick?” you ask.

“He needed a creative consultant,” he replies plainly.

Reiner goes through his phone and breathes heavily. He looks up from his phone, his lips a flat line, and he holds up Colt’s dick pic.

It’s a full body shot of Colt. His cock is thick and long, the same look and size as Zeke’s. He grabs Reiner’s phone and stares at Colt’s throbbing erection. It’s taken in his bathroom and unlike Porco's, his counter is organized, only a small bottle of expensive hand soap lurking in the corner. His dick is the perfect shade of pink, the head of his cock picturesque. It’s smooth, but not in a creepy way. It’s like it was sculpted by Rodin, rock hard and tremendous.

“Oh my god. His pubes are so trim,” Zeke mutters.

His hand shakes and he drops the phone. Reiner grabs it, slips it into his pocket, and looks away from Zeke. The three of you sit in silence, the only sounds coming from the party.

“Is something wrong, Zeke?” you ask. “You’re sweating.”

Zeke doesn’t say anything. There isn’t anything to say. This isn’t something that can be buffed away with pity. The wounds inflicted are too deep. The pain radiating through his being will never cease. There will be no relief from his festering inadequacy. Happiness and hope for the future are rendered foreign concepts.

The man is irreparably damaged.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #zeke aot smut #.fics #.aot #.zeke #.reiner #.colt #x reader #reader insert

122 notes · View notes

fishech · 1 year

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑨𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝑮𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒐𝒏 𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏

𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏-𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒆

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐲𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(this sucks…..)

Gilbert: "……….."

(…really, this totally sucks…)

I woke up in the morning and literally turned into a rabbit.

I don't know why, I'm sure it was just an extension of my dream, that's all there is to it.

The problem is that Prince Gilbert, who somehow came to my room early in the morning, found me.

(If it is a dream, this is a nightmare ……)

I am honestly scared of Prince Gilbert looking down at me from a higher position than usual.

I am about the same size as Prince Gilbert's shoes., I could have been crushed by him by accident.

Gilbert: "Heh. I didn't think you had a rabbit."

Prince Gilbert, who had been frozen for a while, kneeled down as if he had finally come back to reality

He may be taking care not to scare me, a rabbit.

Gilbert: "Hello. I'm just wondering if you could take me to your master."

(……impossible)

Since I cannot speak, I lowered my ears instead.

Gilbert: "Is that a 'yes'? Thank you."

(you don't get it at all!)

Gilbert: "Will you show me the way?"

I flap my ears frantically, but his smile only deepens.

(What should I do?)

Prince Gilbert is kind to me, but his kindness is always malicious.

If he finds out that the "rabbit can't lead to me"…

I don’t know what kind of attitude he would have toward those not worthy of his kindness.

(…………)

Let's pretend to be obedient here and run away when the opportunity arises.

I stood in front of the door, jumping up and down to show that I was useful for the time being.

I turn around and wait for Prince Gilbert to open the door, and his red eyes are unusually wide.

Gilbert: "You really understand human language, don't you? You are an excellent rabbit."

(Yes, I'm good! So don't do anything bad to me.)

When I twitched my ears, Prince Gilbert blurts out, as if he can't stand it any longer.

Gilbert: "It's as if you are begging me for your life."

(…… Oh, you can tell.)

Gilbert: "Don't worry, I'm not going to eat you."

Gilbert: "Only if you lead me to your master properly.…?"

(…………)

When I shake, Prince Gilbert pats my head. Contrary to my fear, it felt good to be stroked. But the cold hand soon leaves and the door is opened in front of me.

Gilbert: "Come on"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The corridor, which seems many times bigger than usual, never seems to end, no matter how fast I run. Still, an opportunity presents itself.

Clavis: "………hmm? Well, well, well, Prince Gilbert, what are you doing?"

Luke: "To me, it looks like he is chasing a rabbit around."

(Luke, Prince Clavis!)

I jump in front of them, seeing an opportunity to get away.

(Please help me, please!)

Clavis: "Ha ha, you're a very friendly rabbit, aren't you? Do you want me to help you?"

(Yes!)

Gilbert: "That's odd. The rabbit and I are friends, right?"

(I can't say we are not because I'm a rabbit.)

Luke: "Where did you get it from?"

Gilbert: "In the rabbit's room, she wasn't there, so I'm asking this one to show me the way."

Luke: "What? A rabbit will show you the way?"

Gilbert: "If it’s love for it’s master is strong enough, I might be able to find her."

Clavis: "Well, you are full of dreams and romance, aren't you? I didn't think that you had such a childish heart."

Gilbert: "Thank you for the compliment? Well, we're busy."

Clavis: "Wait. Just in case you haven't heard Emma doesn’t own a rabbit."

Luke: "Isn't that just a stray rabbit that wandered into the palace?"

(……….)

I shake my head, but Prince Gilbert looks down at me with a thoughtful face.

Gilbert: "Heh, that means……"

Gilbert: "You lied to me when you said you would show me the way."

(How can that be?!)

(…………)

Prince Gilbert hates lies. He hates lies, and he will kill anyone who tells a lie.

(There is no such thing as a lying rabbit. Have I lied?)

I acted as if I could lead him to my "master" when I couldn't.

As my blood boiled and my body trembled, Prince Gilbert gently picked me up.

Clavis: "Miss Rabbit!"

Luke: "Hey, you ………… what are you doing?"

Gilbert: "What do you mean, she is not a domesticated rabbit, is she?"

Gilbert: "Then I'm going to make her mine…"

Gilbert: "Then I can train her not to lie."

Luke: "How can a rabbit lie?"

Gilbert: "this one seems to understand the meaning of the word and is very sorry…?"

(….I’m scared.)

Even at a time like this, the cold palms of his hands feel comfortable, perhaps because I am a rabbit.

Gilbert: "Let's go, shall we?"

Clavis: "Aren't you looking for Emma?"

Gilbert: "Not today."

(It's okay.……..)

Gilbert: "I'll take good care of you, little rabbit?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Unable to get help from Prince Clavis and Luke, I was eventually taken back to the guest room, where I lay on the soft sheets..

Gilbert: "Well, first of all…"

(what is he going to do to me ……)

Prince Gilbert opens a desk drawer and takes out a white ribbon.

The ribbon, which had a rose pattern through it, was familiar to me.

(It was the same ribbon I used when I offered Prince Gilbert sweets before.)

(I didn't think he had taken care of it so carefully.…)

Prince Gilbert comes back and wraps the ribbon around my neck.

(This is ……)

Gilbert: "Pretty collar, isn't it?"

(…… He was serious about keeping me. )

Gilbert: "Hungry? Shall I bring you some vegetables?"

Gilbert: "Oh, and I'll have to make you a bed."

Gilbert: "And if you are a wild rabbit, I’ll have to wash you first."

(!?!)

Gilbert: "I'll have to prepare hot water, wait a moment."

(Please …… Please don't do that!)

I clung to Prince Gilbert's cloak as hard as I could as he tried to move away from me.

It didn't take much strength, but Prince Gilbert stopped.

Gilbert: "Oh, could it be?"

Gilbert: "are you lonely?"

(lonely?)

Gilbert: "I see, you missed me so much that you don't want to be away from me even for a moment."

(No, no, that's not what I meant!)

Gilbert: "I can't help it. Then I'll make this your special seat."

(No, no, no, I didn’t mean that!)

After holding on to him so that I wouldn't fall off, Prince Gilbert walked out in a good mood.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The destination is the bath.

(No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!)

(But I am afraid to jump from this height.)

The distance to the floor seems to be quite long, and my body trembles just looking down.

Gilbert: "You shake a lot, don't you? are you cold?"

Gilbert: "I will wash you with hot water, so be careful."

(Why can't I communicate like this?)

(Aaahhhh!!!!)

Gilbert: " I didn't think rabbits could overheat in hot water."

Gilbert: "are you okay? Are you alive?"

(I can't …… )

Prince Gilbert sits cross-legged on the ground, puts me on top of his lap and wipes my wet body with linen.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The air outside is cool and comfortable, but the heat in my body does not go down at all.

(Every inch of my body was washed.)

(He is absolutely amused.)

I am so weak that I don't even have the strength to stand up.

Gilbert: "are you sulking?"

(yeah, I'm sulking…)

Gilbert: "I'm sorry. I got carried away because of the cute reaction of the little rabbit."

(I'm still convinced)

Gilbert: "I'll feed you lots of vegetables as an apology.

(……..)

Gilbert: "I'll even get you a bed of the finest quality."

(………)

Gilbert: "Speaking of which, I've always had an interest in cooking rabbit."

(!?!)

Gilbert: "If you don't look at me, I'll eat you."

(Outrageous!)

I gathered all my strength and glared

Gilbert: "So you think you're intimidating me?"

I am a rabbit now. Therefore, there is no need to be concerned as usual.

(This is a dream anyway.)

(Take that, special kick--rabbit kick!)

Gilbert: "!?"

I leaps with all my might, aiming at Prince Gilbert’s face.

However, perhaps overconfident in my own strength, I lands on his feet without reaching the ground.

Gilbert: "………"

(…….)

Gilbert: "…. pfft…..ha ha ha ha!"

(I hate this so much, I'm so embarrassed I'm going to cry)

I wiggle back into the linen and roll myself up.

My body feels hotter than before.

Gilbert: "hahaha ------ I really think I'm going to die"

Gilbert: "My stomach hurts… . haha …… Hahaha!

(Laughing that hard?!?)

Prince Gilbert seems to have really hit the funny bone and has tears in the corners of his eyes.

Unlike his usual emotionless smile, he seemed to be sincerely amused.

(It’s complicated, but ------ I like this one better than his usual laugh.)

Gilbert: "Hah your revenge is horrible. Let's not be mean."

???: "You are quite lively."

(!!!)

The voice echoed in the balcony, which until then had been empty except for me and Prince Gilbert

I looked around and saw a man wearing a black hood at the edge of the balcony.

(…… who is it?)

Gilbert: "It's the little rabbit's fault. Look at it, isn’t it adorable?"

Prince Gilbert wraps his hands around me and raises me to a height where the man can see me.

???: "Where did you get that? "

Gilbert: "In the rabbit's room."

???: "you stole it."

Gilbert: "I already put a collar on it, so it's mine."

(This hooded man looks pretty bad too…)

The man stares at me, and I stare back.

After a while of this, Gilbert suddenly lowers his hand and puts me in a position in his pocket.

Gilbert: "I'm jealous that you and the little rabbit are staring at each other."

Roderich: "…I beg your forgiveness."

(unreasonable……)

However, the man who was called Mr. Roderich kept his face down.

Perhaps he is a follower whom Prince Gilbert brought from Obsidian.

Gilbert: "So, what's the problem?"

Roderich: "……I've lost the little rabbit. she is not in the court, nor in the city."

(Rabbit? You mean me?)

Roderich: "I have asked several agents for information, but no one has seen her"

(…Agents?…)

Gilbert: "How could you lose sight of the subject?"

(Wait, now you're saying you're always keeping tabs on me -- how is that possible?)

(Wait, I can't say that, can I?)

Because I’m a rabbit, it's frustrating that I can't ask him directly.

Gilbert: "Any incidents?"

Roderich: "None. The possibility of being involved in some kind of incident is extremely small."

Roderich: "It seems that the Rhodolite side also noticed the disappearance, and their personal butler was making a fuss about it."

(I was so upset about being a rabbit that I didn't think about it. ……)

Roderich: "A search party has already been formed with some of the soldiers."

Roderich: "I think it's only a matter of time before this is treated as a missing person case."

Gilbert: "I see.…….. That's terrible."

Roderich: "Are you sure? I don't know where she is."

Gilbert: "Yes, no problem. I'll take care of it, but could you bring me some fresh vegetables?"

Roderich: "Yes, right away."

Roderich wanted to say something else but he withdrew without saying another word.

Gilbert: "Well little bunny"

(...eh?)

Gilbert smiles menacingly

Gilbert: "I just had an evil idea"

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #translation #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

195 notes · View notes

delta-piscium · 1 year

Text

part 2 | this is part two to this from Steve's perspective leading up to and including part one | cw unresolved angst [unfinished/for now not being worked on]

31 days until moving day.

Steve burst through the door to Family Video, swinging it open with way too much force.

Robin jumps and opens her mouth, probably to tell him off for scaring her but he speaks before she gets the chance.

“Eddie asked me to move to Chicago with him,” he blurts out, “Robin, he asked me to go with him.”

Her eyes widen, “what did you say?”

“That I’d go, of course,” he huffs. Like it’s even a question? like not going was ever an option?

Robin jumps over the counter squealing and hugs him so tight breathing becomes a little bit hard.

“I’m moving away with Eddie,” he whispers into her hair, awed as he hugs her back. She somehow squeezes him even tighter and they stay like that for a minute until they have to actually do their jobs.

An hour passes and Robin keeps shooting him contemplative looks.

“What?” He finally snaps after getting tired of waiting for her to say what she wants to say herself.

She jumps again like she didn’t realize how obvious she was being, which honestly, she probably didn’t.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Robin,” he whines.

“Okay, just,” she scrunches her face up a bit and Steve knows that face, she’s trying to figure out how to say something to him she thinks he’ll react badly to.

He narrows his eyes at her, bracing himself, “yes?”

“I think you and Eddie are great together, and like I love you both and I am excited for you guys. You know that right?”

Steve nods, doesn’t say anything though, wants her to get to the point.

“I’m just also, maybe, a little bit worried.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together, “what do you mean?”

Robin is looking around nervously. Something heavy starts to form in Steve’s stomach.

“You haven’t been together for very long and this is a big step. I just don’t wanna see either of you get hurt you know? I guess I’m just wondering if you’ve talked it all through? Because both of you have a tendency to jump into things without thought.”

They haven’t talked it through, not really. Eddie asked Steve to move, he said yes and that was pretty much it. It didn’t feel like they needed to talk it through though? Did they? Usually, they just dealt with things as they became relevant, that had worked for them so far.

Robin must see something on his face because she quickly talks again, backtracking and interrupting his thoughts.

“Not that I don’t think it will be great, you know I just worry about things a lot. This is my anxiety talking. You know what, ignore everything I just said. You two know what you’re doing.”

He doesn’t want her to know she’s already put doubts in his head so even though he’s starting to freak out a little he smiles and shakes his head.

“It’s fine Rob, I’m sure we will talk more with time.”

22 days until moving day.

Steve meant it when he said he and Eddie would talk. Meant to ask about the logistics, meant to make sure they were on the same page, he really did. But every time the move comes up Eddie just seems so sure about it already. Steve doesn’t want to make him think he’s having second thoughts. Thinks maybe it’s better to not say anything, to wait and let it come up naturally.

He thinks maybe they’ll talk about it tonight. The kids had joked about them all evening, about how fast they were moving.

Mike had made some snarky comment about them moving to a city where they knew no one and how awkward it would be if they crashed and burned and they’d have to share a bedroom.

Eddie had laughed, said it was good they weren’t gonna crash and burn then. But, he’d also added that his band was also going so actually he would know people.

It was just jokes, Steve knew that. That didn’t make it any less true though. Steve wouldn’t have anyone except Eddie, sure he liked the guys in his band but they weren’t his friends. Steve would have Eddie and Eddie would have his band. It suddenly seemed like a big deal.

He expects Eddie to also feel it, to get worried and bring it up but he doesn’t. If he is worried he isn’t saying anything, just like Steve isn’t.

8 days until moving day.

There’s a knock on Steve's door and when he opens Gareth is standing there. Steve is a lot confused about it but lets him in.

“Uh,” he starts a little unsure, “do you want anything to drink or?” He offers, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say or do.

Gareth shakes his head, looking about as uncomfortable as Steve feels. Shuffling around where he’s standing and fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. “No, I’m gonna leave again soon. I just came here to say something.”

Steve gestures for him to speak, “I’m listening.”

Gareth doesn’t immediately say anything, he shuffles some more and looks around the room before his eyes land on Steve again, a determined look in them.

“Look, I like you. I know Eddie loves you.”

Steve can’t help but smile a little at that, even though he’s starting to suspect he’s in for a shovel talk.

“And like, I probably wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t dated for very long at all and are about to move in together in a city four hours away.”Gareth pauses and waits to speak again until Steve nods, showing he’s listening.

“Eddie does things without thinking. He doesn’t think about the consequences, not anything, just does. I love that about him, it’s the reason our band has gotten anywhere at all, but it also means that he gets hurt a lot, disappointed a lot. He can handle it with most things, he won’t be able to handle it with you.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asks even though he’s pretty sure he already knows.

Gareth looks pained but continues, “I’m saying that if you aren’t one hundred percent sure about moving with him, if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”

Steve can’t suppress his flinch. He expected Gareth to say he needed to be sure, that if he wasn’t he needed to tell Eddie. He wasn’t expecting him to say he shouldn’t, no, couldn’t go.

Gareth catches it and narrows his eyes, “I mean it Steve, it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.” He steps closer to Steve, getting into his space. “So, if you’re not absolutely sure,” he pauses, steps even closer, “Do. Not. Go.” He punctuates every word and then he turns on his heel and leaves.

6 days until moving day.

Steve needs to talk with Eddie about it now, can’t ignore it anymore. He isn’t gonna just not go like Gareth told him to do. No, he’ll talk to Eddie and it will be fine.

They’re in his bed together, laying next to each other. Skin touching skin and a comfortable silence between them. Now is as good a time as any.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Mhh?” He hums, shifting slightly next to him.

“What happens if something goes wrong when we move?”

Eddie snorts, “what? Like if we get a flat wheel? I know how to change a wheel, sweetheart.”

Steve smiles despite his nerves, tries to not imagine what Eddie would look like changing a wheel.

“Good to know, but no, not quite what I meant.”

Next to him, Eddie props himself up on his elbow so he can properly look at Steve.

“What did you mean?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear as he speaks. Steve has to focus harder than he’d like to admit to not get lost in it. Even the smallest touches have an effect on him when it’s Eddie.

“What if something happens with us?” His voice is small and he can’t look at Eddie, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Remember that thing Mike said about us not really knowing anyone there? Just, what would happen?”

“Baby,” Eddie gently grabs Steve’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face towards him. Steve easily follows but closes his eyes.

“Baby, please look at me,” Eddie’s voice is even softer than before, and Steve has always been weak when it comes to Eddie asking him to do things so he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“There you are,” he smiles, face open and tendrils of hair falling around it. He looks angelic and Steve almost forgets what they are talking about, too overwhelmed by the man next to him.

Eddie keeps them on track though.

“Like I told Mike, nothing will happen. We will be fine. But,” he continued before Steve can protest, “if something does, we both have jobs already, we’ve done this right. We will be able to save eventually. Quicker because we’re two people, paying rent and all that stuff on two salaries. If something happens we will have that security.”

Steve relaxes then and Eddie must see it because he grins and continues, “now if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner, princess.”

Steve groans and shoves Eddie away. Mostly to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face just from Eddie calling him princess. Judging by the way Eddie cackles he doesn’t have to see Steve blush to know the effect it has on him.

He reaches out and pulls Steve in against his chest. “Worst case scenario we have to move back. Wayne will probably pretend to be unhappy about it but he’ll let me take over his trailer again. And, I know you have complicated feelings about this house, that your parents are the worst, but you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

“Okay,” Steve says, his worries mostly calmed.

1 day until moving day.

Steve and Eddie are spending the night apart. Eddie wanting to spend his last night with Wayne and both of them needing to do some last minute packing.

Just as he finishes closing one of the last boxes the phone rings, he’s a bit confused about who would call him right now. His friends all having seen him earlier in the day to say goodbye. Maybe Eddie needs to double-check what time they decided to leave.

He picks up but it’s not Eddie, or even one of the kids, who speaks.

“Steven,” his mother's shrill voice crackles on the other end of the line.

“Hi mom,” he tries to hide his sigh as he speaks, doesn’t have the energy to get into anything with her right now, doesn’t want her to ruin his excitement.

“I thought you were moving to Chicago alone?”

His freezes, when he told his parents he was gonna move he didn’t say he was going alone but he also didn’t mention Eddie. He knew they wouldn’t like it, knew it would be easier to let them assume he was going by himself.

“But I just got off a call with Mrs. Hagan and she told me that Tommy had said you were moving there with- with that cult boy? The one who’s wanted for murder?”

Steve closes his eyes and this time he doesn’t bother hiding his sigh. Fucking Tommy, he’s always had a big mouth but Steve suspects that this hadn’t been him blabbering without thinking. No, Steve thinks Tommy knew exactly what he was doing telling his mom this piece of information.

“His name is Eddie, and he was cleared of all charges. The ‘cult’ was literally just a school club.”

“So it’s true? You’re moving with him?” Her voice is sharp and even just hearing it over the phone makes him flinch.

“Yeah, we’re friends and it’s cheaper that way. We got a better apartment because we’re two people with a job each.” It’s such a simplification of the truth it’s almost a lie but Steve doesn’t think this is the time to come out to her. He hopes the ‘better apartment’ comment will calm her, it’s the sort of thing she cares about after all. Not for his safety and comfort though but for how it will reflect on her.

He’s not sure she actually hears him though because she hisses a vicious, “If you move with him you will not be welcome back Steven, this will be the last time we speak.” Before she hangs up on him.

Steve carefully places the phone back in its cradle, then he’s left standing alone in the living room, both too shocked to move and not really shocked at all.

He’s not close to his parents. Has slowly been understanding just how much they’ve neglected him. He’s been relieved about moving away, about being in another city where he won’t have to see them when they waltz back into town. But to never speak to them again? That’s a whole different thing. He still hoped that they’d be able to fix their relationship. That him not being dependent on them anymore would allow him to stand up for himself. That everything would get better. Now instead, the thing he thought would allow their relationship to get better is gonna destroy it forever.

He debates calling Eddie, wants to tell him what his mom just said, wants to hear his voice, wants to let him make it better. He decides against it, he doesn’t wanna ruin Eddie’s last night with Wayne and he’ll see him tomorrow anyway. He can tell him in the car.

He doesn’t call Robin either, she’ll insist on coming over and he knows she’s on a date with Nancy right now. He doesn’t wanna ruin that either, even though both of them will tell him he’s not, he knows he will be. He goes to bed instead, sleep seems like the best option right now, at least he won’t have to think if he’s asleep.

Moving day.

He ended up not really sleeping at all. Tossing and turning for hours and after finally falling asleep sometime in the early morning he wakes up just hours later from a nightmare. He doesn’t remember what it was about but can feel the lingering panic. He gives up on getting any more sleep, doesn’t wanna risk more nightmares when he’s alone.

He picks at his breakfast, still thrown off from the conversation with his mom the night before and not feeling like eating, so he gives up on that too. He spends the rest of the morning wandering around, touching the walls and the furniture in the house he grew up in. The house he’s been left alone in since he was nine. The house he both hates and loves. The house he will never be allowed to return to after today.

Then the phone rings again, it’s probably his mom calling to ask if he’s decided to stay he thinks. It’s not, it turns out.

“Hi I’m Patricia, I’m looking for Steve Harrington?” A chipper voice says.

“This is him.”

“Okay well, good. I’m calling about a barista job you’re supposed to start with us next week.”

“Yeah?” Steve chews on his cheek.

“I’m so sorry but due to our rent being raised we’re having to do cutbacks. Since you haven’t signed your contract with us yet, it’s the first one to go.”

“You’re firing me?” Steve asks, it’s not entirely right since he hasn’t started yet but it’s all he can think to say.

“Essentially,” Patricia responds, “I’m sorry for the short notice.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice void of emotion, “thank you for calling.”

He hangs up without waiting for a response, he doesn’t have the energy to be polite.

He barely has time to let the information sink in before his doorbell rings. Eddie on the other side of the door with a wide grin on his face.

“Did you oversleep?” He jokes.

Steve’s confused for a second but then he realizes he’s still in his pajamas, that he’s spent the whole morning wandering around like a ghost in his house not getting any of the things he needed to do done.

He hasn’t packed the bag of all his essentials. He hasn’t gotten dressed. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth. What he has done is get fired from a job he never even started.

He sees Eddie’s teasing smile, the combination of it and his sudden joblessness tugs at something in his brain, brings back the conversation they had last week.

“Now, if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner princess.”

He doesn’t have a job. He’ll have to live off Eddie and what little savings he has left. Become a responsibility Eddie doesn’t want, a burden probably.

“Worst case scenario we move back”, “you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

If he leaves now he won’t be able to come back.

Gareths words play back in his mind too.

“if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”, “it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.”

“I’m not going,” Steve hears himself say as he steps back from the hand Eddie reaches out to him.

“You’re not-“ Eddie looks so confused. “Like today? Do you need extra time? We can postpone by a couple of days but-“

He’s not getting it. Steve interrupts him, needs to make him understand because he can’t listen to him try to come up with solutions.

“No, Eddie. I��m not going it all.”

The words feel wrong in his mouth but he forces them out anyways.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks and it fucking ruins him. He feels his carefully blank expression break, despair showing through.

“I can’t leave Hawkins, the kids,” he has to look away from Eddie as he says this. Knows it’s the only thing Eddie won’t question, knows Eddie thinks he doesn’t mean as much to Steve as the kids do. “They need me.”

“When did you decide you weren’t going?” Eddie asks and Steve didn’t know it was possible but he breaks even more from that, from Eddie not fighting him.

I didn’t, he thinks, I don’t know why I’m saying this now. If you ask me to stop and just go with you I will.

“A couple of days ago,” he lies.

It’s silent then, just their breathing and the distant sound of cars down the street being heard. Eventually, Eddie breaks it.

“Steve?”

His voice cracks in the middle. Steve can hear the plea for him to take it all back and he nearly does, has to swallow the words creeping up his throat before they get out.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. He turns around, closing the door behind him. Destroying their future and breaking the last bit of his heart in the process.

He doesn’t get more than two steps into the house before his legs give out beneath him. He stays there, sitting on the floor for what feels like forever.

After some time he hears a car drive away and he knows Eddie has left. He feels silent tears start streaming down his face that soon turns into sobs. Making him curl in on himself and gasp for air.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, crying until he can’t anymore and then just sitting there. But after a while, he’s interrupted by a loud ringing. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours he picks up the god-forsaken phone.

“Hello?” He rasps, his voice dull and raw from crying.

“Steven. You made the right decision and stayed I take it?” His mother asks.

“Yes.” He says and hangs up on her.

#happy ending never got written but they end up happy and maybe on day i'll return to this and write it #once again i apologize for any typos mistakes in general etc I've read through it I swear #part one is like 800 words and this is over 3k idk what happened okay #actually i do i had to fit in more scenes #so uh yeah #there will still be a happy ending i promise but now you get where steve is coming from which is mainly a panic attack tbh #steve baby do not make big decisions while mid anxiety shut down #also talk to people <3 #eddie you know better than to reassure someone because you both have jobs? what are you doing???#it's 5am i swear if this does not show up in the tags ill cry #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my writing #my post #steddie angst #dels steddie thoughts

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