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#he wasn’t even shown killing them himself

theemporium · 2 days

Note

hi king!! could i get a uuuuhhh…

"I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

🩷 w/luke? xoxo

we tried something different with a wee historical fiction/prince au🤠they are not my forte but i wanted to try challenging myself. thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

Luke had always found the royal festivities to be tedious and long winded.

Maybe it was because they very rarely focused on him, with most guests taking interest in his parents or his older brothers—Quinn especially, being next in line to the throne. Or maybe—just fucking maybe—he found them tedious and long winded and boring because they were.

He wasn’t even sure what the reasoning behind this one was, if he was being completely honest. Though, there was never usually a good reason for many of the high class patrons of the kingdom to deny the chance to be invited into the castle or flaunt their pretty fabrics. But Luke had to assume this one was semi-important if people from neighbouring kingdoms—people of importance—were making the journey.

Still, it did little to make him feel anything but utter boredom as he did his rounds. He flashed the guests a few smiles, usually letting Jack or Quinn take over the conversation. And once he had shown his face for a socially appropriate amount of time, he found himself sneaking off in the shadows to find something to occupy himself before his father’s expected speech.

Usually, he would find himself sneaking into the kitchens to see if the staff would slip him a few desserts before dinner or some snacks to entertain him with.

This time around, Luke didn’t even make it to the secret corridor that led down the kitchen before he was pressed against the wall, his breath knocked out of his lungs and something cold pressed against his neck.

“Shit,” you hissed, only your eyes visible to the boy as you glanced over his face.

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through him that didn’t have him thinking straight. Maybe it was the excitement for something different to happen at this ball.

Or maybe Luke just lacked common sense and self-preservation because the only response he managed after a random woman dressed in all black with a knife pressed against his throat was, “pick the wrong prince?”

You blinked. “You matched the description.”

“So…I was the right prince?” He asked, something akin to amusement in his voice and it threw you off.

“Do you have your life threatened often?” You questioned, partially rhetorical because a part of you was genuinely interested in the answer. “You seem very calm.”

“I just assumed if you wanted me dead, I would have been dead already,” he replied honestly, making no move to try and escape your hold. He had a feeling you would bury that knife in him before he even got the chance to take a step.

“I could still kill you if you don’t listen to what I say,” you told him, and he knew better than to question how truthful you were with that promise.

But still, Luke was young and sheltered and spent far too much of his time trapped in the castle, learning how to be a prim and proper gentleman. There was something thrilling about you and, for reasons his own brain couldn’t comprehend, he didn’t want to lose your attention just yet.

“I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife,” he retorted, his lips twitching upwards when he noticed your eyes widen slightly in response.

“It’s like you have a death wish,” you grumbled, the edge of your blade digging a little further into his skin.

“So if I wasn’t your target, who was?” He asked casually, like you were two acquaintances catching up. Like there wasn’t the possibility of someone turning the corner and finding the two of you. Like there weren't guards already starting to notice his absence.

“None of your business,” you snapped, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. He wondered if you were contemplating whether or not he was worth killing and adding the extra hassle for.

“It seems like my business when you have a blade to my throat,” Luke added cheekily.

“You have no sense of survival,” you told him like it was an insult.

He grinned. “Perks of being a prince, I assume.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you grumbled and, in a blink of his eye, you were already three paces away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

He pushed down the uneasy feeling in his chest the second you were no longer pressed against him, the second your eyes were no longer on him. “Will I see you again?”

You paused, tilting your head to the side. He couldn’t see your mouth but he had the strongest sense that you were smirking beneath your mask.

“Depends what kind of enemies you plan to make, Your Highness.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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sttoru · 3 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. zayne is quite the early bird and loves to appreciate the sight of your sleeping self next to him. he might even tease you a bit.

wc. 1.2k

note. first love and deepspace fic, kinda nervous. lmk what you think of my characterisation of zayne.

tags. zayne x female reader. fluff. just zayne being a secret softie for you. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, dear / pretty, beautiful’.

it’s early. way too early for your body to properly function. the birds haven’t chirped yet and neither has the sun shown itself—it’s early, but zayne is up. he couldn’t fall back asleep once he had awoken and thus decided to stay up.

“hah, sleepyhead,” zayne comments through a deep sigh. he’s laying on his side, facing you. his eyes are completely focused on your appearance; from your messy bed hair to the drop of drool forming at the corner of your mouth. it’s all rather endearing.

your boyfriend reaches a scarred hand towards you, though is quick to retract it after some hesitation. he does not want to interrupt your slumber. you need your rest; especially after your hard shift as a hunter the day before.

and because you finally decided to follow his advice as your primary care physician. sleep is important for your health.

zayne’s protective instincts are begging him to embrace you—to protect you against the cold. you just look so vulnerable next to him.

though, his heart doesn’t agree. there are risks to such an action; you waking up this early and not getting your recommended seven hours of sleep is one of them. he decides not to do anything. . . for now.

zayne checks his phone to kill some time. no missed calls nor texts. it’s unusual for the surgeon to not be bombarded with calls and such, though it’s a pleasant change of pace.

his eyes dart back to your face again. no matter how many times he tries to distract himself from you, his focus always finds its way back to you. it’s like he’s subconsciously checking to see if you’re up or not.

zayne wishes to witness your face as it lights up the moment you lock eyes. to see your adorable smile that makes his heart flutter. to hold you close, cuddle with you and kiss you.

“mph,” a sudden yawn from your mouth interrupts zayne’s train of thoughts. you stretch your arms and move to lay on your back, however your eyes stay closed. you look even more adorable like that—with your hair even messier.

your lover can’t help himself like this. a slender finger reaches out to your lips, gathering the small droplet of drool at the corner. zayne’s neutral expression remains, but his eyes subtly soften once he gets to touch your skin.

“what a messy girl,” zayne mumbles to himself. he nearly makes himself chuckle, however is quick enough to bite back that short laugh. he takes his chance and subtly traces the shape of your bottom lip.

there’s no going back now that he’s touched you. his attention is now fully on you and you only.

zayne is too busy tracing your facial features to notice that you’re starting to wake up. your eyes flutter open and - to your surprise - you find your lover’s face hovering above yours.

you feel the pad of his thumb on one of your cheeks, his index and middle finger holding the other. he gently squeezes your cheeks together so that your lips form a pout. it’s secretly his favorite thing to do—makes you look silly.

“zayne?” you whisper in a groggy voice.

zayne lightly jolts in place and takes his hand away. he clears his throat awkwardly; his gaze darting back and forth between the objects in your bedroom. he purposely avoids all eye contact while maintaining a stoic expression. as if he wasn’t just caught admiring you.

“oh, you’re awake,” your lover mutters. he attempts to change topics by looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, “it’s still too early. you should go back to sleep, dear.”

you still feel flustered whenever he refers to you as ‘dear’ or any other affectionate nickname. your relationship has come so far and it warms your heart. you grin and reach your hand out to place it on zayne’s jawline.

“mm, what were you doing when i was asleep?” you ask in a teasing tone. your fingers trace his jaw gently, trailing down his neck. it makes the dark-haired man gulp lightly. there’s not much left of his self control.

zayne allows you to lead his face back to yours. the tender touch he missed so much—your warm palm meeting his cold skin—it drives him insane. he sighs, though does not admit the truth, “nothing much. just checking my schedule for the day and such.”

that gains him a playful scoff from your side. you know that’s a lie just by the memory you have of his face hovering above yours from earlier. he was admiring you. you poke the tip of his nose, “riiiight, then why were you staring at me so lovingly? touching my lips so delicately?”

you giggle as you recall that faint softness in zayne’s eyes when you caught him admiring the view of you. his fingertips treated your skin with such care. maybe you should’ve pretended to be asleep and see how things would have played out.

“ah, you see,” zayne replies in a low tone, his hand moving once more to tap at the corners of your lips. you could’ve sworn that there’s a faint grin on his face as he continues, “it’s hard to ignore the sight of you when you’re drooling all over yourself in your sleep.”

that shuts you up. you immediately try to wipe away any leftover drool from your lips. your hands work quick, but you don’t find anything to wipe off, “l-liar. i’m not drooling, thank you very much.”

zayne shakes his head with a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair. he leans in and his breath on the skin of your cheek sends shivers down your spine.

“because i got rid of it all before you woke up, sweetheart,” he mutters lowly and lets his lips graze against your cheek, “i was kind enough to help my messy little girlfriend out and save her from the embarrassment.”

you sputter an incomprehensible excuse, but fail at defending yourself from that. you know zayne is a pro at teasing when he’s in a good mood. you’re absolutely no match to him. you huff and eventually give in, “whatever.”

zayne knows he won that one. he only jokes around with you like that in hopes to seeing your adorable ‘angry’ face. that frown and pout on your face makes you look all the more pretty to him.

he sighs and spoons you—arms cradling you to his chest from behind once you turn your back to him. neither of you complain about your current position. there’s a yawn coming out of your mouth again;

“go back to sleep, i’ll be here.” zayne whispers to you and you nod.

before you close your eyes, you turn your head and stare at zayne. he gazes back down at you and that tender look in his eyes makes its appearance once more. that look which is reserved for you.

“promise me you’ll sleep too,” you mumble. your lover stays silent for a couple seconds, not knowing whether he can promise you that or not. though after seeing your little pout again, he can’t help but give in.

zayne leans in and places a reassuring kiss on your forehead, “i promise. i will.”

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love & deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #zayne x you

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jasmines-library · 2 months

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Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin.

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look.

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes.

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you.

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that.

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar.

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece.

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 10 months

Note

HELLOO COULD I request earth 42 miles morales saving reader from someone who tried to kidnap them and what he does after? Hope ur havin a gud day

Here

Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader

Earth 42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Langauge, mentions of death, a tiny bit of nudity, and mentions of violence

Requested: yes

A/N: OKAY ONE REQUEST DOWN MANY MORE TO GO. I wrote most of this sleep deprived on a plane so it might not flow the best but I tried. Still wanna try out headcannons so I might use that format for another request. I'm almost at 200 followers tysm I might do a prompt list and blurb night type thing.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“I’m gonna kill him.” Miles declared a little too calmly for Y/N’s liking. He looked for his shoes so he could get out of there.

Her heart had finally slowed enough to process what had just happened, the adrenaline wearing off.

Y/N worked the graveyard shift at a gas station a couple of blocks from her apartment complex. She had to save up for school and it rarely got busy that late. It wasn’t a bad deal.

She emptied out the register, but before taking out the trash, she texted Miles to see how far he was.

He always walked her home from work, however today she felt especially tired and Miles wasn’t answering his phone and it was barely a 10-minute walk to her apartment.

What she hadn’t expected was for someone to try and grab her on the way home, Miles had shown up at the exact right time to scare him off.

“Miles,” She called softly, using her voice to beg him to look at her. After a moment's hesitation, he finally looked over at her curled up at the edge of her bed.

He was so angry he was shaking. He snapped at Y/N on the way to her apartment he wasn’t mad at her but he needed someone to be mad at.

“Can you please come sit down?” She patted the spot on the bed beside her. He continued to pace around her room as if he were looking for something.

“Miles,” she begged again.

“I have to do something,”

“Just sit down,” The shakiness in her voice seemed to get him to listen. She grabbed the hand closest to her and held it tightly in her own, before leaning into his side.

She inhaled deeply, relaxing into his warmth and earthy scent.

“Don’t go, won’t change anything,”

“What would’ve happened if I wasn’t there?”

“But you were,” She reminded him.

“You could’ve been killed or worse.” He said. “And you want me to just do nothing?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” She countered. “Need you to stay with me,”

“I’m so sorry I was late,” He kissed her hand. Miles rarely apologized even when he absolutely should so she knew he meant it.

“Not your fault baby,” She mumbled into his shoulder to which he huffed incredulously. “I mean it.”

Instead of corroborating his innocence, he shed light on his thoughts.

“I keep thinking about you dying and it’s all because I didn’t get to you fast enough.” He sighed. “I can’t lose you too.”

Ever since his father's passing Miles had some pretty big shoes to fill. Head of the house, the son of a late police captain, but never just a kid.

Sucking in a breath Y/N immediately shifted her body to grab Miles’ face. She pressed his ear over her heart letting him listen to the continuous thump.

“I’m alive,” She whispered for only him to hear. “I’m right here.”

He twisted himself to hide his face in her chest and wrap his arms tightly around her waist, she ran her hands over the hair at the back of his head humming a song. Miles spoke up never moving his face “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,”

With a smile never stilling her hand movements she responded. “You don’t have to be a big macho man all the time you know?”

He finally released her with a small dismissive yeah. She pushed herself off the edge of her bed with a groan, bending backward to stretch her back. Miles leaned back on his elbows to watch her.

She made her way over to her dresser before he sat up and then spoke up. “Where you going?”

“I wanna take a shower,” She answered grabbing a plain cotton shirt and some underwear. “I feel dirty,”

He seemed content with her answer and leaned back on his elbows again. “Will you come with me?”

He raised his eyebrow suggestively before she laughed and threw the shirt at him.

“Not like that,” She clarified “You’ll just sit there. I don’t wanna be alone.”

He nodded grabbing the shirt off his chest before following her to the bathroom.

The stuffy humid air surrounded Miles as he sat patiently on her toilet seat.

“You still here?” You called over the running water.

“Yeah babe, still here.”

“Can you talk to me?”

“What’you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” She shrugged despite the fact he couldn’t see her behind the shower curtain. “Just tell me about your day,”

He told her about how in AP BIO they did fetal pig dissections and he got to cut into the brain. By the end of his spiel, she was listening to the creaky twisting of the knob to turn the water off. After asking for the towel she was making him turn around so she could get dressed shushing him before he could make an offhand comment.

He followed her back to her room pulling her comforter back so she could slip in. The second she hit the cool sheets her eyes fluttered shut, sleep dragging her down. He tucked her in, and before he moved to grab her bonnet she gripped his arm keeping him still.

“Don’t go home”

“I won’t, I’m just gonna grab your bonnet, swear,”

“Mhm,” She agreed, releasing his arm and curling in on herself.

He slipped into the bed next to her wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his chest. She let out a hum of discomfort before turning to face him, her eyes still shut.

Miles stayed still watching her until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed. Shuffling onto his side to reach into his pocket he pulled his phone out pausing when she stirred at the noise.

Opening the messages app he swiped on his uncle's contact texting him

Some white guy in Bushwick green civic and skull neck tattoo. Call me when you find him.

Shutting his phone off with a click he readjusted himself.

Y/N could say whatever she wanted he was going to kill that man.

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #prowler!miles #prowler!miles x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales angst #miles morales smut #hannah responds ღ #hannah speaks ღ #miles morales x reader

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subskz · 1 year

Text

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 01

note: this is part 1 of a series (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, strangers to friends to lovers, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, a bit of pining, kissing, slight suggestiveness but sfw (eventually nsfw)

summary: after the past three years you’ve had, whether or not you make it through the fourth all comes down to a single thread. fortunately, you find that thread, with chan on the other end. now, it’s just a matter of who needs it more—you, or him.

word count: 15.7k

By the time the spring semester of your senior year rolled around, you were coming apart at the seams.

It was subtle, not something anyone else would notice—you wouldn’t let them. Angling and maneuvering yourself so that it could never be visible to others was a skill that came all too naturally.

Still, you knew it wasn’t a question of if those seams would ever come completely loose, it was a question of when.

The past three years had been a near-constant fight to keep yourself afloat, with each one lining up to present a brand new, life-altering event tailored just for you. Two of which seemed like the end of the world, and one that truly was.

A heartbreak of your own volition. The loss of someone irreplaceable. Another heartbreak for good measure, also of your own volition. With the number of lessons the universe had packed in for you, you were certain that you’d be able to pass on to your next life without any problems.

Third time's the charm.

That was how the saying went, but for your own sake, you had to enter your final year of university stubbornly clinging to the hope that surely, fourth time would be the charm instead.

Incidentally, charm did come, in the form of Bang Christopher Chan.

It had begun with the most trivial of interactions. On the first day of your PHYS 408: Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics course, out of breath and—despite the cool February air—nearly working up a sweat from racing around the physics building like some kind of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed freshman, you’d made the very innocuous decision to take the first empty seat you could find. Near the back of the class, close to the door; the perfect spot for someone looking to get their credits in and clock out.

What you’d failed to notice until after you’d sat down, however, was the brooding statue of a boy occupying the chair right next to yours, resting his cheek on his hand and staring at the whiteboard with a look so fierce you would think it had personally wronged him somehow.

Seo Changbin. You’d seen him around more than once, having shared a handful of classes with him over the years, but never daring to approach him. You weren’t exactly someone you’d describe as faint of heart, but something about his muscular build and intense gaze, always made darker by the shadow of a cap, had you wary enough to keep a distance.

Not that it was difficult to steer clear of him, anyway, when he was the last to arrive and the first to leave as soon as each lecture hit its designated time limit—and that was if he’d even shown up to begin with.

You still remembered the first thing you’d noticed after settling down next to him, that being, that he was surprisingly much shorter than you’d initially thought. All those times you’d spotted him from afar, tapping along to the beat of his music or killing time in the activity center between classes, had given you the impression that he was as gifted in height as he was in muscle.

That didn’t change the fact that his intimidating presence more than made up for it, and you had taken great care to not veer into his personal space when you slipped your notebook and pencils out of your bag to prepare for what was sure to be a grueling learning experience.

The second thing you’d noticed about Changbin, was that he himself didn’t have a bag—or any kind of work materials, for that matter. There he sat on the first day of class, with nothing but a caseless Samsung S23 Ultra, a pair of headphones, and a ridiculously large bottle of what you’d assumed to be some kind of energy drink. It was almost impressive, in a way, how he hadn’t even tried to fool himself into thinking he’d be productive this semester.

You’d heard horror stories from your upperclassmen about this Thermodynamics professor. His strict grading criteria and endless list of hyper-specific rules were enough to make anyone with your degree plan dread taking his course; the most notable of said rules being that he prohibited any and all forms of technology in his classroom. It hadn’t taken long for him to single out every student who had dared to present even the tiniest flash of fiberglass around him, and Changbin was no exception.

In retrospect, it should’ve been inevitable to you that twenty minutes into the introductory lecture, he’d lean over and awkwardly ask you if he could borrow a pencil.

Wordlessly, you’d nodded and passed him a complimentary sheet of paper along with your pencil bag, allowing him to choose for himself. To your astonishment, he’d reached for your pink, Sanrio-themed mechanical pencil without a single moment of hesitation, whispering his thanks.

You’d never thought a smirk could be described as shy before you saw his. It was unexpected, coming from someone who looked like he bent iron bars for fun, but a welcome surprise regardless.

What had been even more surprising, was that this strange affinity for cuteness wasn’t a one time thing for him—not even close. With every passing Tuesday and Thursday morning you spent in his company, you soon came to discover that the Seo Changbin you’d created in your mind and the Seo Changbin existing before you were two very, very different people.

“You’re here!” he piped, loud enough to turn a few heads in his direction. “I saved you a seat.”

The flimsy, neglected notebook occupying your chair as some kind of placeholder was such a pitiful sight that you couldn’t help but snort.

“The seat I’ve sat in every day since our first class?” you hummed. “Thanks, Bin.”

“You’d better mean that,” he complained. “This place is lawless, someone might get bold one day and take your spot.”

“They’d beg me to take it back after five minutes of your nagging.” You passed his notebook back to him with a grin. It was hardly used and horribly undersized for a course as rigorous as this one, but you still considered it an improvement over the sorry state he’d been in when you first met.

You slipped into the familiar spot, unzipping your bag and preparing your study materials. “Shouldn’t I be the one surprised that you’re here, anyway?” you pointed out. “To what do we owe the honor of Seo Changbin having perfect attendance in an 8:00 a.m. class?”

“You know exactly what,” Changbin shuddered. Beneath the visor of his cap, you saw his eyes dart towards the podium, landing briefly on your demon of a professor. “Besides, senior year and all. It’d be pretty sad to take an extra semester just ‘cause I slacked off.”

You made a small noise of agreement. “So, fear and pressure,” you dropped your pencil bag dramatically on the table. “Now you sound like a real college student.”

Changbin perked up as he spotted the coveted flash of pink amidst your sea of pens and highlighters. “There she is,” he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thought I’d have to make it through this quiz without my lucky charm for a sec.”

“You keep calling it that,” you mused, fishing the pencil in question out from your pouch. “What makes it so special?”

Solemnly, he took it from your hand, curling his fingers around the pink plastic with all the grace and delicacy in the world. He gestured for you to lean in closer, as if preparing to share some deep, profound secret with you.

“It never runs out of lead.”

You nodded, putting on your best fascinated face. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d been the one refilling it.

“Plus, I’ve aced every quiz I’ve taken with it so far.” Changbin’s eyes gleamed as he continued. “It’ll get me through midterms for sure.”

You reached out mischievously, threatening to swipe it from his hands. “In that case, I might just use it for myself.”

“Don’t even joke about that!”

Though your mood was light, it still soured the slightest bit at the mention of grades. Of the three quizzes you’d taken so far this semester, Changbin had scored better than you on two of them. It was a silly thing to be bothered by. You knew by now that he wasn’t lacking in intelligence by any means, but you also knew that intelligence alone wasn’t enough when it came to this course—or astrophysics in general. Certain levels of discipline and hard work were just as essential to your success, and it was difficult to ignore the question of what you seemed to be missing in those departments, especially when Changbin came across as so carefree about his studies.

With the way everything else had been crumbling around you since you’d begun university, the last hope you could cling to was at least maintaining your GPA until graduation. It had been the one constant in your life, an oddly comforting escape that you could pour your focus into when all else failed. You couldn’t afford to slip up—to be anything less than exceptional—for even a moment, not when your field of study was so fiercely competitive.

“You’ve definitely been doing well for yourself,” you commented. “It can’t all be thanks to Cinnamoroll, can it?”

“Oh?” the corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk. “Is that your way of complimenting me?”

You rolled your eyes, immediately accepting that you wouldn’t get anywhere without buttering him up first.

“I just think it’s unfair to give my pencil all the credit instead of that genius mind of yours, that’s all.”

Your tone was far too sweet to be natural, and you were sure that Changbin could see right through it. Even if he did, he played along anyway, lifting his chin proudly and letting out a satisfied hum.

“It’s true, it’s true,” he boasted. “Keep going.”

“Beauty, brawn, and brains,” you marveled, throwing a hand over your heart to really sell the idea. “You’re living proof that a guy can have it all.”

It was hard to describe the strange, high-pitched sound he made in response. Whatever it was, it helped your efforts feel just a bit more justified. Changbin scrunched up his nose, suddenly at a loss for words, and you were once again reminded of how utterly laughable it was that just two months ago, you’d found him intimidating.

“Ah, seriously,” he cleared his throat, trying to recover from the momentary lapse in bravado. “Alright, I’ll be honest. I get a lot of help from my friend.”

Your interest piqued, and you inched a bit closer. “Your friend?”

He crossed his arms, looking contemplative, and for a second, you thought he might demand more compliments before going into any further detail.

“He’s a couple years older than us, but still studying. He used to be on the astrophysics track before switching to music composition senior year.”

Your eyes widened a bit, half-perplexed, half-impressed. Astrophysics to music. It was a bold change to say the least, not one you could ever imagine yourself making, especially if it’d been close enough to his graduation that he had to take extra semesters.

A lightbulb flickered to life in your head, effectively cutting off whatever you’d planned to say next. “Wait a minute, music composition? Don’t tell me—?”

Changbin clicked his tongue, that same, sheepish expression creeping its way right back onto his face.

“Yes.”

“The same guy you—?”

“Yes,” he repeated. “Chan. The same guy I make music with.”

No matter how hard you tried, you could never suppress your amusement when you remembered the deeply unserious name Changbin and his friends had chosen for themselves.

“So, he’s one third of the famed 3RACHA,” you said it with a bit too much glee, your smile only widening when he shushed you as if the word were some kind of bad omen.

“Why are you embarrassed? The stuff you’ve shown me is really good.”

“I know.” A genuine compliment amidst your teasing only seemed to fluster him further, and he averted his eyes with a grumble. “Ah, forget it. Can’t believe I was gonna be nice and ask if you wanted to study with us.”

You paused. It was easy to forget sometimes that Changbin could be more observant than he let on. Still, you wondered if your earlier shift in demeanor had really been that obvious.

A part of you, the more prideful part, wanted to dismiss his offer right away. It would be like admitting that you were struggling with the course—which, realistically, you knew was ridiculous to care about when every one of your peers was going through the same thing. If the average class scores that your professor so proudly made known were any indication, it’d be a miracle if you weren’t struggling.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, however, the dull, lifeless voice of Dr. Choi rang out through the room, signaling the beginning of the lecture. You put away your study materials begrudgingly, cursing yourself for becoming too immersed in your chat with Changbin to get any last-minute cramming in.

Changbin, on the other hand, looked relaxed as ever, tapping your pencil lazily against the tabletop while the quizzes were passed out. You braced yourself, mind racing with all the knowledge you’d accumulated over the past weeks as a copy of the deceptively short quiz was slid over to you. It was a mere three questions long, but you’d be lucky if you finished them all in the time given to you.

Your eyes landed on the first Gaussian Probability Distribution word problem, and your head went blank. That was all it took for you to lean over to Changbin and whisper.

“I might have to take you up on that.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Noon couldn’t come fast enough.

Your Thermodynamics quiz, not to mention the lecture that followed, had effectively drained your energy before the clock had even struck 9:00, with a full day of classes and assignments still lined up on the horizon.

As anticipated, you’d barely managed to complete the set of problems, even with all your preparation and practice. It could’ve gone much worse, but it was still enough to solidify your decision to join in on the study sessions Changbin had proposed.

He’d eagerly sorted out the details with you after class, planning to meet later this week at his and Chan’s apartment. It hadn't dawned on you until that moment that the latter of the two would probably be expecting some kind of payment for his tutoring services. After all, him helping Changbin out was one thing, but you were a complete stranger.

Changbin, however, had shut the possibility down as quickly as you’d brought it up. According to him, not only would Chan not ask you for any compensation, he’d outright refuse to accept it, even if you tried.

“The only thing Chan loves more than meeting people is helping them,” he’d told you, sounding so sure of himself that you were inclined to believe it.

Even so, it was a bit odd. A former astrophysics major, making a degree switch as drastic as music composition, and still being willing to revisit the same, headache-inducing subjects he’d so narrowly escaped, for free? The more you learned about this Chan character, the more you began to question what kind of person he really was.

Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you were, in fact, ravenous.

You picked up your pace, drawn in by the welcoming aromas wafting from the campus food court. The feeling of your cell phone vibrating against your thigh made your steps falter a bit, and before you even slipped it out of your pocket, you already had a good idea of who the caller might be.

“Hi, Iseul.”

“Where are you?” she sounded expectant and slightly annoyed, sending your brain on an urgent mission to recall if you’d somehow lost track of plans with her.

“In the student union?” you answered cautiously. “Why?”

You were met with a dramatic huff crackling through the phone speaker.

“I’m outside your place,” she said, as if it were obvious. “Please tell me you didn’t have lunch already. I picked some up for us.”

You blinked, thoroughly confused for what was neither the first nor the last time as to what this girl’s thought process could possibly look like. After two years of friendship, you could confidently say that you had no idea.

“Sorry, did you text me or something?” You pulled your phone away from your ear to open your messages.

“No,” came her reply, tinged with the slightest hint of defensiveness. “But is it so crazy for me to expect you to actually be at your apartment? Y’know, the place where you live?”

“At noon on a Tuesday? A little,” you said plainly. You chose not to bring up the fact that she had to be well aware of your schedule to organize this meeting the very instant your lunch break started.

Another huff. “Well, are you coming or not? There’s a million things I need to talk to you about and I don't know how much longer I can wait here before that security lady accuses me of loitering again.”

You checked the time. It was only a short, ten minute walk to your apartment complex, you could definitely make it before your next lecture.

“Alright, alright. I'm on my way.”

“You’re the best,” her tone changed so abruptly that you almost laughed out loud. “See you soon!”

The call ended before you could get your own goodbyes in. With how quickly she’d hung up, you’d think she had something else to do besides stand around waiting for you to arrive.

Regardless, you hardly felt irritated, well-acquainted with Iseul’s behavior by now.

Your friendship with her had blossomed by pure accident, even with some reluctance on your part. One too many times sophomore year, you’d encountered her in the computer lab at the same ungodly hour as you, battling an army of technical issues with no one around to solve them considering that even the lab assistants had long taken their leave for the night. The first two instances you’d spotted her, slamming her mouse against the desk and cursing violently at her monitor, you’d kept to yourself—albeit with a tinge of guilt—and focused on your own approaching deadlines. After the third time, however, you’d figured the universe was trying to tell you something, and decided to help her out before she rendered every piece of equipment in the lab unusable in her academia-induced fits of rage.

From there, she’d latched on to you in a heartbeat. After all, someone who could help with tasks as incomprehensible to her as troubleshooting Microsoft Excel was sure to be reliable in other areas. On top of that, her newfound interest in you had only doubled when she’d found out that you happened to be living in the newest phase of apartments on campus. Suddenly, she had made the executive decision that you were the best of friends, and that every waking moment of your free time should be spent together at your place.

You might have been offended by her comically transparent motives if you hadn’t discovered soon after that your floorplan was just a few square feet bigger than hers. What she probably wanted most, you’d figured, was a friend.

Your initial misgivings aside, you were grateful to have Iseul in your life. She was someone who could be kept at a safe distance. Not physically, (her constant barging into your space would never allow that) but emotionally. A bit too preoccupied with herself to ever delve into personal matters that you’d rather keep to yourself, but still considerate enough to care about you. At least, in the bare minimum of ways, which was really all you needed from her. She was convenient and comfortable, and you’d long found your rhythm with her despite many labeling her a pain to get along with.

As you began making your way out of the dining hall to meet her, the sight of someone entering from the far side of the building made your heart drop to your stomach.

You froze, suddenly rooted in your place, feet heavy as cinderblocks. It shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you. You were bound to see him again, eventually, whether on campus or through some other unfortunate crossing of paths later down the line. You’d known this and braced yourself for it, too.

Still, no amount of time would’ve ever been long enough.

A very specific type of dread crept up on you, one you hadn’t felt so intensely for almost a year now. But the way it filled up your chest and spread through your skin was all too familiar, like it had never left your system to begin with. Like the kind of person you were before was still inside you, lying dormant.

Resentment and remorse fought for their place in your mind. Somehow, they both felt unjustified. He didn’t deserve to be the target of those emotions, and you didn’t deserve to have them. He hadn’t done anything—that was exactly it: he hadn’t done anything.

You told yourself that you had no right to feel this way. But it didn’t change the fact that he embodied everything you wanted to forget about the past three years.

He hadn’t noticed you yet; at least, you hoped desperately that he hadn’t. You weren’t going to stick around until he did, either. You shook your head, as if to forcibly expel the thoughts before they took root in your brain, and spun on your heels, making your way towards the exit located as far away from him as possible.

In that moment, you were more grateful for Iseul’s impulsive tendencies than ever.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to warm them up, praying that the clouds would hold out until you and Changbin made it to his apartment. It was an unusually cold day by April’s standards, and the sharp winds and ominous gray sky promised a rain that was sure to be bone-chilling for whoever got caught in it.

“Right there,” Changbin pointed at the building you were approaching, finger landing in the direction of a balcony on its third floor. There was a soccer jersey for a team you didn’t recognize hanging off the railing, flapping in the wind so wildly that you were concerned it may fly away altogether. “See, the walk isn’t so bad, right?”

It had been nearly half an hour. Granted, the journey home took longer than expected thanks to Changbin, despite having lived in this complex for two years, still managing to lose his way somehow.

“I’m starting to understand why getting to class on time is so hard for you.”

“I told you, I’ve never taken this route before!” he objected. “I’m just not used to coming from the east side of campus.”

You relented, deciding you’d teased him enough along the way. “It’s alright, it was a bonding experience,” you gave him a playful smile. “I just hope Chan won’t mind that we’re late.”

Changbin waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry. He’s probably holed up in his room working right now. Doubt he even knows what time it is.”

It sounded like a dig at the older boy, but there was no hint of scorn in Changbin’s voice, just honest affection.

A strange feeling had been periodically bubbling up inside you all week, and at the mention of Chan, it made its presence known yet again. Whether curiosity or anxiety was at the root of it, you weren’t quite sure, but it grew stronger and stronger with each step you took up to their apartment. By the time you reached the third floor, you found it hard to focus on anything else.

Changbin fumbled with his keys for a moment before unlocking the door and swinging it open. You made note of the plated number on the wall next to you as he did. 8-325.

“Well, we made it in one piece,” he stepped to the side, inviting you in. You accepted with an appreciative nod, and as you slipped off your shoes, your eyes scanned over the living room and kitchen areas in front of you. They were surprisingly neat, with just a few stray socks and water bottles scattered here and there. Even the state of the kitchen sink wasn’t all that bad. No rotting food, no mountain of dishes, no overflowing trashcan.

“Wow,” you murmured, impressed. “It’s clean.”

Changbin snickered at that, as if he’d anticipated your exact reaction. “Minho raises hell if we let it get any worse than this.”

Minho. You’d almost forgotten about their other roommate. Like in the case of Chan, you hadn’t met him, but you’d heard a few things here and there from Changbin. He was a year older than you—a Computer Science major, if you remembered right—but still an undergraduate due to him taking a gap year after high school to work. You wondered if Changbin was some kind of magnet for these people, with his unique balance of childish antics and emotional maturity giving any upperclassmen he came into contact with no choice but to take him under their wing, even sticking around until he graduated like true, responsible older brothers.

“Chan!” Changbin’s voice rang out through the apartment, louder than you thought was probably necessary. “Chan! We’re here!”

There was no response for a minute or so, and just as you shrank back in preparation for another ear-splitting shout from Changbin, you registered the faint sound of a door opening down the hall.

“Coming!”

For some reason, you held your breath.

Shrouded in a mass of black, from his hoodie, to his pants, to the beanie on his head, out shuffled Chan.

He was just an inch or two taller than Changbin, but similarly to him, he had a strong presence. Maybe it was the way his clothes made him look like a walking void, or maybe it was the way he appeared so friendly in contrast to them. His eyes were gentle and his face was weary, but kind. He looked like someone who smiled a lot.

“Sorry,” he pulled his headphones down, letting them rest around his neck. “I lost track of time.”

Changbin gave you a knowing look, as if to remind you that he’d told you so. “It’s okay, I figured.” He conveniently left out the fact that you and him had arrived beyond schedule.

Chan turned to you, tired eyes finding you for the first time. You introduced yourself with a quick dip of your head, and he did the same. You thought it would end at that, but to your surprise, he reached out his hand, wiggling it around slightly to push back the oversized sleeve that had been covering his palm.

“Nice to meet you!” he chirped.

You took his hand, unable to stop yourself from flinching the instant your skin brushed against his.

He was warm. Unnaturally so.

It set off every last one of your nerve-endings, seared through your veins. You might’ve attributed it to his clothing, but all three of you were dressed in thicker attire given the weather. Surely, he had to be cooking up a ridiculous level of heat in that hoodie for his skin to be burning the way it was. On top of that, he didn’t look sweaty or flushed in the slightest. There was just a natural, rosy complexion to his cheeks (which, upon second look, you noted were quite soft in comparison to the rest of his masculine features).

You blinked, realizing with a start how long you’d gone without returning Chan’s greeting.

Changbin bumped his shoulder against yours, and you cringed inwardly. That had to be some kind of record for how fast a first impression could crumble.

“Nice to meet you, too.” you tried to quell the awkwardness, but the way you pulled back all too quickly only seemed to make things worse.

Chan eyed you for a split second longer, his stare flickering down to your hand so briefly that you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it. He flexed his fingers once, then the look of concern on his face morphed into a polite smile.

It was an unfortunate moment for you to notice that he had dimples.

“Is it too toasty in here?” He angled his head towards the thermostat. “I can change it if you’re uncomfortable!”

Just a minute ago, you would’ve told him that you were fine. You’d been perfectly content with your body temperature up until you’d come into contact with the human furnace that was Bang Chan.

You had half a mind to question if he was the uncomfortable one, with all the heat that was practically radiating off of him, but Changbin spoke up first.

“Have you been outside today?” He shivered. “Trust me, this is perfect.”

At that, he strolled over to the kitchen table and plopped down his belongings, looking more prepared to learn than you had ever seen him in class. Chan's smile didn’t waver despite the fact that he obviously hadn’t been asking for Changbin’s opinion, and he exchanged a glance with you, as if you were old pals rolling your eyes over a mutual friend.

You smiled back at him, determined to let this guy believe that you were, in fact, capable of understanding social cues.

“I'm gonna grab my old notes,” he informed you. “Make yourself at home!”

You thanked him quietly, making your way over to the table and joining Changbin in the seat closest to him. As soon as Chan was out of earshot, he nudged you curiously.

“What was that?”

You put on your best neutral front. “What?”

Changbin squinted, eyeing you up and down. “You were acting weird.”

You considered playing dumb, but quickly decided against it. Knowing him, he wouldn’t stop pestering you until you gave him the answer he wanted.

“He was hot,” you shrugged.

“He was what!?”

You tensed up. “No, no, not like that. I mean he was hot, like, physically.”

His mouth hung open, and you weren’t sure what to be more annoyed with: your abysmal choice in words, or his seemingly deliberate misunderstanding of you.

“He felt hot,” you clarified. “Like, his skin. That's all.”

The explanation only seemed to tickle Changbin further, and you elbowed his side irritably, trying to shush his delighted cackles.

“Okay, so, you weren’t acting weird. You just are weird.”

“I'm serious!” you protested.

“He's not better looking than me, is he?” he continued dramatically. “You didn’t do anything like that when we first met.”

You exhaled, composing yourself before you grew defensive over something so ridiculous. “Because your hand didn’t feel like the surface of the sun.”

Changbin nodded solemnly as if he understood, but the look on his face was still completely unconvinced. “Yeah, yeah,” he clicked his tongue. “Just don’t go falling in love with him, alright?”

You snorted, not bothering to dignify him with a response.

That was the last thing you needed—the last thing you wanted, even. To spend another few years building something that you could already predict the demise of. Another few years constructing a tower that you would never even get to see completed, let alone make a home in. Because it was sure to crumble; that was the only thing it could do when its foundation was never fit to support anything to begin with.

The sound of Chan’s approaching footsteps snapped you out of your unpleasant thoughts. He'd taken longer to return than you’d expected, and you could only pray that he hadn’t overheard your conversation with Changbin. He did seem like the type, after all. To pretend like he was still in the other room so that you could be spared the embarrassment of getting caught in the middle of a conversation about him.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

Two notebooks, a laptop, and the colossal textbook required for PHYS 408: Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics—co-written by Dr. Choi himself, of course—were all dropped on the table before you. You felt a glimmer of hope. Chan seemed to be serious about helping out, so much that you wondered if this arrangement truly could be the extra boost you needed to finish the semester with an A.

He settled into the chair opposite you and Changbin. “So, next up is the midterm, yeah? I guess we should start from the beginning.”

“Inexact differentials, please,” Changbin requested. “I still don’t get them.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in amusement. “Since when are you so ready to study?”

“Since we got our new recruit,” he leaned back in his chair. “There’s less pressure on me now that your wrath is split between us.”

You let a soft chuckle slip at that, trying to imagine what it might take to anger someone who appeared as good-natured as Chan. Said boy cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I swear, I’m not that harsh.”

You nodded, fully aware of Changbin’s talent for exaggeration. “I don’t think anything can scare me after Dr. Choi, anyway.”

“That’s true,” he giggled. For how charming it was, it didn’t last nearly long enough.

You pulled your eyes away before landing yourself in another incriminating situation.

“Alright, inexact differentials it is.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Forty-five minutes into your first study session, you’d come to make two very important realizations about Bang Chan.

The first, being, that he wasn’t exactly the best at explaining things.

He’d typically start on the right track, but it wasn’t long before he’d veer off on tangent upon tangent, tacking on more and more information until it became a full-blown ramble, all loosely connected with a series of “um”s and “y’know”s before being clumsily wrapped up with a final “so…uh, yeah!”

You didn’t hold it against him. He was clearly a smart guy, and you knew firsthand what a nightmare these topics could be to teach to other people, especially taking into account that it had been two years since he’d learned them. Even with his less than articulate methods, you still found yourself grasping concepts exponentially better than you ever did in your thermodynamics lecture, and that was because Chan seemed to be gifted with what you could only assume was an endless supply of patience. He’d repeat himself as many times as deemed necessary, perfectly content with rereading his notes, checking the textbook, and even searching things up online until he was certain that both you and Changbin had understood.

The second realization you’d come to, was that your concerns about whether or not you might get to hear more of his laughter had quickly been put to rest.

He giggled at everything. At you, at Changbin, at himself. Sometimes, he giggled at nothing at all, just to fill the silence. It was admittedly fascinating to see the way his face would change, from the stern expression he wore when offering guidance, to the sheepish smile that’d appear when he stumbled over his words.

After hearing his laughter for the better part of an hour, infectious and melodic and, occasionally, ending with the faintest squeak, you still hadn’t gotten sick of it. Though, you did find yourself thinking that he had to be either an extremely self-conscious person, or an extremely giddy one for giggling to come as naturally to him as breathing.

“Does that make sense?” Chan tilted his head. “Let me know if you wanna go over it again!”

“I think I got it,” you smiled.

In truth, you didn’t, but it was a matter of dignity at this point. Enthalpy was one of the most basic properties you needed to know in order to build on concepts infinitely more complicated than it, and if you held up the review any longer to focus on something so mundane, you may not be able to show your face around this guy ever again.

It didn’t help that somewhere along the line, the looming clouds outside had broken at last, bringing about the downpour that you’d anticipated all day. Each explosive clap of thunder chipped away at your focus more and more, making you prone to stupid, easily avoidable mistakes that frustrated you to no end.

You thought your answer had been convincing, even making sure to look him in the eye when you’d said it, but Chan still didn’t let up.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“Oh my God,” Changbin’s voice turned up in a whine, his earlier enthusiasm nowhere to be found. “If you explain this one more time I’m seriously gonna go crazy.”

Before Chan could respond, the sound of keys jingling amidst the steady patter of rain caught everyone’s attention. You turned your head just in time to see the door creak open, letting in a violent gust of wind, and, with it, the lean figure of a stranger.

He was soaked. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, clothes hanging off of him like heavy drapes, and sneakers forming small puddles on the wooden floor.

“It’s raining,” he announced.

Changbin broke out into a fit of laughter, and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from doing the same. Chan, though clearly on the verge of losing it as well, still rose from his chair like a reflex and grabbed a hand towel from the kitchen. He tossed it to the other boy, who you could only guess was Minho.

“I was starting to wonder where you were,” Chan remarked, voice shaking with barely contained glee.

“I got sick of waiting for the rain to stop, so I made a run for it.” Minho dumped the water out of his shoes and shut the door in disgust. “Then I remembered why I don’t run.”

The small towel didn’t do much for his drenched state, and after a few moments of shaking it haphazardly in his hair, he gave up and let it rest around his neck instead.

“You should shower and dry off,” Chan told him. “You’ll catch another cold.”

Minho grunted in acknowledgement, but rather than following through, he strolled over to the kitchen. As he did, his gaze landed on you for the first time, giving you a clear view of his face.

Every striking feature of his was balanced out with a soft counterpart. Sharp, intense eyes with puffy bags underneath, a sharp, prominent nose between full cheeks, and sharp, catlike lips above a round chin. It was a delicate combination that not only made him attractive, but interesting to look at, as well.

He studied you for a moment too long, just enough to spark a sense of unease inside you.

“That’s no good, Changbin,” he clicked his tongue at last. “Don’t tell me you’re such a hopeless case that Chan had to find you a second tutor.”

“It’s a study group!” Changbin cried indignantly. “And what the hell kind of introduction is that? Say hi!”

The corner of Minho’s mouth curved into a smirk, like it was made to do exactly that. Similar to Changbin’s, it wasn’t sultry, but unlike Changbin’s, it wasn't shy. It was mischievous and playful, like that of a child’s cheeky grin.

His attention shifted back to you, and he gave you a proper greeting. It was surprisingly polite, all things considered, even ending with a short bow.

He popped open the refrigerator door, leaning forward in a way that had to be uncomfortably cold given that he was still dripping wet.

“I had a few pudding cups left in here. At least two,” he called out.

“Wasn’t me,” Chan piped with the speed of someone who was accustomed to being the first suspect.

Minho pulled his head out from behind the door, accusatory glare locking right on Changbin.

The boy shifted guiltily next to you, unable to hold eye contact with Minho for longer than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Minho shut the fridge with a hum. “That’s alright.” His voice was breezy and sweet, a complete contrast to what came out of his mouth next. “Just sleep with your door locked until you buy me new ones.”

“Hey,” Changbin whined. “That’s scary.”

He tugged at your arm as if expecting you to rush to his defense, and you settled for giving him a comforting pat on the back, not nearly familiar enough with Minho to joke around with him like that. Given how Chan was watching in amusement, you figured this was a regular occurrence for them, anyway.

Following Minho’s arrival, your review session more or less fell apart. The idle chit chat eventually led into a full on conversation, and when Changbin shut his textbook with a luxurious stretch, you knew there was no chance of getting him to open it again.

You didn’t mind, really. The three of you had covered a lot of ground in the time you’d spent studying, and you were already worlds more confident about the upcoming exam. Your main concern, now, was how you were going to get home. It was well past sunset, and the thick sheet of clouds had darkened the night more so than usual, not allowing even a single drop of moonlight to break through. That, coupled with the fact that it was still very much pouring outside, complicated your plans a bit.

Sitting there as the odd one out among the group of friends, you couldn’t help but feel like you were overstaying your welcome, but any attempts you made at suggesting that you brave the storm and head home were emphatically shut down.

“It’s okay,” you tried to convince them. “I really should get back and have dinner.”

“Have dinner with us!” Changbin didn’t miss a beat.

You hesitated, uncertain as to whether it would be more rude to accept or decline.

“It doesn’t look like the rain’s gonna stop anytime soon,” Chan reasoned. “Why don’t we eat first?”

Minho, in vengeance of his fallen pudding cups, loudly declared that he wouldn’t be cooking dinner for anyone. It became clear to you in that moment that he was probably the only thing standing between his roommates and malnutrition, because their go-to second option (if not their only other option) was instant ramyeon.

So, there the four of you sat, crammed together on their living room couch, watching some obscure superhero movie that Changbin seemed to know every line of, and slurping away at your noodles.

They had turned out tasty enough, with the extra spices and sauces you’d added to make the flavor a bit more appealing, but with the way Chan scarfed down his share, you might’ve thought it was the best meal he’d ever had. He was all satisfied noises and delighted fist shakes, looking happier eating instant cup noodles than you’d seen some people look their entire lives.

He was cute, you decided.

Though the movie lessened some of the pressure you felt to socialize, a faint air of awkwardness still lingered around you, only ever really ebbing when you and Changbin would interact in between his passionate lore discussions with Chan and his bickering with Minho.

Chan seemed to sense early on that you weren’t fully relaxed with the atmosphere; at least, you assumed as much judging by his periodic efforts to pull you back into the conversation.

“Everything good?” he’d asked at one point, leaning over so you could hear his whisper above the movie.

Even with Changbin serving as a buffer between you two, his persistent warmth still found you.

“Oh, yeah.”

Not your most eloquent response. To be fair, you hadn’t anticipated his question. It didn’t seem to have convinced him, but he’d given you a smile, anyway.

“Alright. Just know that you’re more than welcome here, yeah?”

You were grateful for his kindness, but at the same time, it had caught you off guard. It wasn’t a regular thing for you, being read with such ease by someone you hardly knew, and you couldn’t decide if you were just being uncharacteristically transparent that day, or if Chan was too perceptive for his own good.

Changbin was Changbin. That in itself helped you loosen up a bit, as well. He behaved in virtually the exact same way around the older boys as he did with you—albeit, leaning more into his childish side—and it filled your chest with a pleasant sort of relief. He considered you a friend; close enough to treat you with the same intimacy that he treated people he’d known for years.

Minho, on the other hand, was more of an enigma. Not rude by any means, but not overly accommodating, either. The one thing you were certain of was that he was incredibly funny. Witty, too. He didn’t speak as much as Chan or Changbin, but when he did, it was always something memorable. His voice had a playful lilt to it that never seemed to go away, like nothing he said was meant to be taken too seriously.

As the night continued and the four of you had all eaten your fill—or, several fills in Chan’s case—your reservations slowly but surely melted away. You spoke more naturally, joked with Changbin the way you always did when you were together, and even found yourself comfortable enough to make a few snarky comments about the film’s ridiculous plot and cringeworthy special effects, to which Changbin took great offense and Minho had let out a few laughs.

As for Chan’s laughter, another few hours of it still hadn't made it any less endearing. In fact, the more you heard it, the more hooked on it you became.

By the time the storm had passed and you could finally head home safely, you found yourself a bit wistful that your impromptu gathering had come to an end.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

“So,” Iseul’s eyes twinkled. “What’s the verdict? Is he cute?”

Straight to the point. It was something you liked about her, usually, but in this scenario, you almost wished she’d never asked.

Ever since that day, you’d felt an inexplicable sense of…well, you didn’t quite know what it was. Discomfort, unease, foreboding; they were all too extreme to describe the feeling. All you knew was that something peculiar stirred inside you whenever you thought back to Chan. Maybe it was because of your clumsy first interaction, or maybe it was because of that nagging, uncanny belief that he could see right through you from the very first moment you met.

It was unfair, in a way, because you knew for a fact that he’d been nothing but friendly every time you’d hung out with him—a delight to be around, really. You could easily see why he was the social butterfly that Changbin made him out to be.

“Hello?” Iseul complained. “I'm not gonna stop asking, even if you ignore me.”

In retrospect, telling her about your new study routine with Changbin and his mystery friend—however offhanded it had seemed at the time—probably wasn’t your smartest move.

“Yeah. Really cute, actually.”

You may as well have told her that he’d asked for her hand in marriage with the squeal she let out. “I knew it, I knew it! Tell me everything.” She nearly knocked her drink over in her rush to scoot closer to you.

It was hard to keep a straight face. Even when you knew it was short-lived, her enthusiasm over the simplest of things was contagious.

“What’s there to tell?” you feigned nonchalance in a way that was sure to annoy her. “I go to him and Bin’s place, we study, I leave.”

“Come on,” Iseul pouted. “There has to be more to it than that. What’s he like? Do you have a picture?”

“A picture?” you echoed incredulously. “You take a commemorative selfie every time you study thermo?”

“Like, his Instagram or something!”

“He has three posts, and none are of his face.”

Iseul deflated at that, and you broke out into proud chuckles. You were being difficult, sure, but the part about his profile was at least true. A picture of his hand holding up a peace sign at the beach, a picture of what you assumed to be his dog back home, and a surprisingly clear shot of the moon; those were the three precious images Bang Chan had felt compelled to share with the world, with the most recent one being from almost two years ago.

“He’s got a nice smile,” you offered.

Iseul took the bait instantly, perking back up. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Dimples, too.”

“Cute.” She clasped her hands together, looking lost in a dream. “That’s it, I have to see him.”

“What’s got you so interested, anyway?” you mused. “Aren’t you talking to someone?”

With the way her face dropped right back into a grimace, you knew you’d touched on a sore subject. “No,” she said curtly. “I mean, am I? Does it count as talking when you’re lucky to get a reply every six hours?”

“You’re just clingy,” you teased, already bracing yourself for when her hand flew out to swipe at you.

“I’m totally low maintenance!” she cried. “Anyway, I don't even want Chan for me. This is about you.”

You shifted in your spot, that same, strange feeling twisting in your stomach, stronger this time.

“Me? What do you mean?”

Iseul put her chopsticks to the side, giving you a look that was far too serious given the topic.

“I’m finding you a boytoy.”

You nearly laughed out loud, only stopping yourself in the nick of time when you caught that she wasn’t joking in the slightest.

“No, you’re not.”

“I am!” she insisted, bravely holding her ground in the face of your disbelief. “What are you gonna do when I settle down and don’t have time for you anymore? I gotta make sure you have someone to entertain yourself with!”

Your amusement wavered just a bit. You knew she meant well, but when it came to Iseul—or anyone, for that matter—trying to do things for your sake, you’d long accepted that you’d prefer if they didn’t even bother.

“There’s no rush,” you pointed out. “You have to actually get a text back before you can settle down, right?”

“Oh my God! I'm trying to help you and this is the thanks I get?”

“Thanks, Iseul.” You reached out to give her an apologetic pat. “But I don’t need any help with that.”

Suddenly, her lips curved into a devious smirk, and you had a sneaking suspicion that she’d misunderstood what you meant.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” she drawled. “Never forgetting that dreamboat you had following you around like a lost puppy all sophomore year. What was his name again—?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you cut her off a bit too harshly, regretting it as soon as you did.

Iseul frowned. “It was just a question.”

“You’re right, sorry.”

“What ever happened to him, anyways?” she continued, apparently not taking the hint. “Things ended so suddenly with you two.”

You tried not to bristle. After your near-encounter in the dining hall the other week, he’d been occupying your thoughts far too often for your liking. That, coupled with those peculiar feelings that had sparked within you upon meeting Chan, had you unreasonably on edge ever since.

“I told you,” you tried to sound casual. “It just wasn’t a good match. I don’t think he really liked me all that much.”

Iseul scoffed, not buying it for a second. “Please, he was obsessed with you.”

The urge to tell her everything right then and there was more tempting than ever. To unload all the bitterness, the guilt that had been building up and weighing you down for the better part of two years now. You knew you couldn’t, though, not when it meant having to break the very same news to her that had led to the end of your relationship. The chances of her reacting the same way that he had were slim, but even the smallest possibility was more than enough reason for you to stay quiet. You’d kept it tucked away for far too long now, anyway. She’d only get upset if she found out now.

“Obsession isn’t the same as love.”

Iseul grew quiet for a moment.

“I guess,” she mumbled.

She turned her attention back to her soda, as if the conversation had suddenly become too heavy for her tastes.

You didn’t blame her, but it further solidified your decision to leave what you’d wanted to say buried in your heart.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Several doses of caffeine were in order.

Anyone who happened to witness the unfortunate sight of you and Changbin stumbling out of Room 118 of the physics building, spiritually battered and bruised and barely able to process your surroundings, might’ve thought you’d just gone to war.

It wasn’t much of a stretch, considering the exam you’d just taken. You felt ridiculous for ever thinking the two hour time slot was overkill; in actuality, it had been a rare display of mercy from Dr. Choi.

“I’m dropping out,” Changbin declared.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll do it,” he insisted. “Before I lose my mind for real.”

He slumped heavily against you, and it took all your strength to support his muscular body so that the both of you wouldn’t be sent toppling to the floor.

“After everything Chan’s done for you? You might just break his heart.”

Changbin seemed to take your joke a bit too seriously, a horrified look crossing his face. “Can you imagine how that would’ve gone without his help?”

“Don’t even wanna think about it,” you shuddered.

For how excruciating the thermodynamics midterm had been, it was more because of the psychological torture aspect than the difficulty of the content itself—though, its difficulty was nothing to sneeze at, either. The one positive that had come from this hellish experience was confirmation that choosing to study with Chan had undoubtedly been the right choice for you. Every topic you’d managed to review over the few meetings you’d had so far stayed fresh in your mind during the exam, so vividly that you could even recall the inflections in Chan’s voice whenever he’d sing his sentences at random. You weren’t sure if it was intentional, or if it was even something he was aware that he did, but you’d caught on to it right away.

Because his melodies helped you remember better, of course, not because you found it endearing.

“We really need to thank him,” Changbin bumped his head against yours. “Let’s bake him a cake.”

“You can’t even crack an egg.”

“Who told you that!?” he bolted upright, miraculously regaining his energy.

You kept your lips sealed, but it didn’t take long for him to narrow down the suspects.

“Minho…” he muttered. “Who the hell shares that story with someone they just met?”

“I agree that we should do something for Chan, though,” you tried to stay on topic before Changbin could get riled up about Minho. He was already sour on him after he’d bought replacement pudding cups as threatened, only to smugly be told that they were the wrong brand.

“I’ll think of something when my brain isn't fried.” Changbin shoved his hands in his pockets, looking contemplative for a second. “You never answered my question, y’know.”

“Hm?”

“About him being better looking than me.”

His words caught you so off guard that you actually stopped in your tracks, turning to give him a look of pure disbelief.

“Seo Changbin,” you said plainly. “You can’t be serious.”

“What?” his tone grew defensive. “This is important stuff! You’re supposed to be around the same level of attractiveness as your friends. It’s scientifically proven.”

You so badly wanted to hold your unimpressed stare, but it was impossible when the man in front of you was speaking without an ounce of shame.

“First of all,” you began. “I've told you a million times that it had nothing to do with his appearance.”

It was Changbin's turn to look unimpressed, but he waited for you to finish.

“Second of all, you’re a very handsome guy, Binnie,” you tacked on the nickname for maximum effectiveness. “So if I were to fall in love with anyone, it’d obviously be you.”

You truly meant the compliment, but a little extra flattery never hurt when it came to him. A wide, embarrassed smile spread across his face like clockwork, and he reached out to smack your shoulder, giggling at an unnaturally high pitch.

“Geez, don’t say it like that,” he complained. “I wasn't ready.”

You shook your head. “You’re so simple.”

For both Changbin’s peace of mind and your own, you hoped now that the issue would be dropped. You had enough confusing feelings about Chan already without Iseul and Changbin blowing things completely out of proportion.

“Wanna get some coffee?” you suggested. “There’s a really good kiosk on the first floor of the library.”

“I think I’m gonna head home and nap, actually. I’ve got another exam tonight.”

You let out a sympathetic hum. “That’s rough. Good luck, Bin.”

“Thanks,” he sighed dramatically. “Treat me for all my hard work once midterms are over.”

“Sure, I’ll even save up so I can afford your rich kid tastes.”

Changbin grinned at that. “On second thought,” he pulled his hand out of his coat pocket to reveal your pencil; his lucky charm. “You’ve given me more than enough.”

He attempted to pass it back to you, but you nudged his hand away gently.

“Keep it. Maybe it’ll help with your next exam.”

From there, you and Changbin said your goodbyes for the day. You decided to head to the coffee shop on your own, in desperate need of some kind of energy boost so you wouldn’t crash the instant you returned to your apartment.

As you made your way over to the campus library, your mind drifted back to Chan. It seemed to do that a lot, recently.

You wanted to do something to express your gratitude to him, but it was difficult to decide on what when you knew so little about the guy. Changbin could always help in that department, of course, but then there was the issue of actually getting Chan to accept it.

Despite not having walked nearly long enough to work up a sweat, you felt strangely heated when you approached the library entrance. Not only that, your hands were clammy, and you had to wipe your palm on your clothes before reaching out for the door handle. The warm, addictive scent of coffee flooded your senses as you entered the building. You almost connected your sudden rise in temperature to its cozy atmosphere—that was, until your eyes zeroed in on a figure seated at the table directly across from where you stood.

He was hunched over his laptop, consumed by his dark clothes so that he was hardly visible to anyone passing by, but you’d already reached a point where you could’ve recognized that side profile anywhere. A distinctive nose peeked out from behind the hood pulled over his head, thumb brushing over his lips as he concentrated on the screen before him.

Driven by an urge you couldn’t quite place, your feet drew you in his direction, and you had to force yourself to come to a sudden halt. He looked busy—exhausted, too—it was probably best to leave him alone.

Just as you turned to continue over to the coffee stand, dark eyes flickered up to find you, as if on cue. Recognition flooded his face, lighting up with a smile.

You gave him a small wave, and to your surprise, he gestured enthusiastically for you to come over to him. You adjusted the strap of your bag, feeling unusually self-conscious, like you’d given too much away with just your stare. Still, you steeled yourself and padded over to his table.

“Hey!” Chan removed his headphones, hood slipping off along with them. “I was just thinking of you.”

You blinked. “You were?”

“Yeah, you and Bin had your exam today, didn’t you?”

“Oh, right. He just headed home, actually.”

He pulled out the chair next to his, inviting you to take it. You hesitated for a moment before accepting, giving him a grateful nod.

As you settled in next to him, it dawned on you that this was the first time you’d ever seen him without some kind of hat or beanie on his head. You hadn't even known that his hair was curly. It felt akin to a crime to have been robbed of the sight; soft, brown ringlets falling just above his eyes and swooping out at his nape, almost like the tail of a duck.

“How’d it go?” He tilted his head curiously. “Alright, I hope?”

“Well, let’s just say I understand why you switched majors.”

Chan’s laughter filled your ears, a blissful compensation for the past two hours you’d just had. He reached out to tap your shoulder lightly as he giggled, and you weren’t sure why it made your heartbeat pick up.

“That bad, huh?”

“It would’ve gone a lot worse without your help,” you confessed. “Thanks again for studying with us, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, of course!” Chan chirped. “I’m glad to help.”

“Are you sure there’s really nothing I can do in return? I hope you’re not holding back just ‘cause I’m Changbin’s friend.”

You were careful to ask a second time after your failed attempt at convincing him to accept some kind of payment—favor, anything—during your first study session. Just as Changbin had predicted, he’d brushed you off with a polite smile, insisting that it was the least he could do. Despite your best efforts, you’d ultimately stopped pressing the issue to avoid coming off as too pushy.

Chan waved his hand, dismissive, yet again. “Nah, you don’t have to worry about that. It’s no trouble at all!”

“How about I buy you a coffee?” You motioned in the direction of the kiosk. “Just one cup, and I’ll stop nagging.”

“Ah.” He scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Sorry, I don’t really drink it.”

You stared, waiting for some kind of indication that he was just messing with you, but it never came. Suddenly, his perpetually worn-out state made perfect sense.

“A college student who doesn’t drink coffee? They should study you.”

He grinned, looking a bit embarrassed. “If you need me as the subject for your research next semester, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “But then I’d owe you double.”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and you tried not to focus on the way his thumb came to run over his full lips again. You’d never seen lips shaped like his before; when you looked closely enough, they resembled a soft-edged heart.

“How about this? Give me your number and we’ll call it even.”

Your mouth nearly fell open. You hadn’t pegged him as the type.

“That way, we can say we’re officially friends,” he continued, completely oblivious to your shock. “And helping out a friend is normal, yeah?”

Friends. It was odd to hear him say that. You weren’t really sure if you could consider someone you’d spent just a handful of hours with your friend, but for what it was worth, he seemed to be speaking sincerely.

Your brief moment of panic melted away. Another case of unintentional flirtatiousness on his part, after all. It was relieving, in a way, because you could only imagine the effect someone like him might have on people if only he knew how to utilize his charm.

“Alright, you win. Just a warning, though, I’m not the best texter.”

“Me neither,” he admitted. “But if you ever need anything or wanna chat, I’ll be there!”

As you exchanged phone numbers, every one of your instincts called for you to be suspicious of Chan, to believe that, surely, he must have some kind of ulterior motive behind his eagerness to befriend you. But you knew what ill-intent looked like by now,—you’d be a fool if you didn’t—and there was none behind his eyes, just an honest desire to help in any way that he could.

It was almost foreign to you, something you’d never really seen in any other person but one.

“There! You’re debt-free.” Chan handed your phone back to you. He’d taken it upon himself to add a wolf emoji next to his contact name, and you shot him an amused look.

“My friends say it reminds them of me,” his voice turned a bit sheepish, as if realizing how silly it felt to say out loud.

You softened. “That’s cute.”

“You think so?” He reached up to fiddle with his piercing, and you noticed for the first time how red the tip of his ear had become. Probably a side effect of his concerning levels of body heat. “What should I put next to yours?”

“A flame?” you joked. “So you can remember me as the girl who sucks at thermo.”

Chan flexed his fingers. “I like it,” he giggled.

You stole a glance at his laptop as he edited your contact, met with a sea of sound waves, audio files, and incomprehensible icons taking up his screen.

“So, were you working on something?”

He perked up. “Oh, yeah! Just messing around with some sounds, really.”

You leaned in a bit closer despite not understanding much of what you were looking at. Even with your lack of expertise, you could see that whatever he was doing was more than just messing around.

“Is it for a class?” your interest piqued. “Or for 3RACHA?”

Chan’s breath hitched, loud enough for you to hear, and you wondered for a moment if you’d said something wrong.

“You know about that?”

“Bin’s shown me a few songs! You guys are really good.”

He ducked his head, the flush on his ears creeping up to paint his cheeks the same shade. Oh. He really had been flustered the entire time. It excited you more than it probably should have.

“Ah, thank you,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Sorry, I’m just a little caught off guard, I think.”

You considered changing the subject for the sake of his comfort. What he said next, however, quickly quelled any concerns you had. “Which one did you like the most?”

He lifted his gaze shyly, looking so hungry for approval that you made a mental note to ask him more about his music in the future.

“Zone!” you didn’t miss a beat. “I especially love the lines in Māori.”

His face broke out into a grin so wide that his eyes almost squeezed shut from sheer happiness. “I sing that part,” he beamed.

Of course he did. You tried to imagine it—the bubbly, unassuming boy in front of you delivering lines with such power and confidence. It intrigued you, just like everything else about him. From the first day Changbin had described him to you, he was like a puzzle that you were determined to collect all the pieces of, to bring your understanding of him to completion.

Your original goal in coming to the library now long forgotten, the two of you stayed at his table for at least another hour, chatting about all sorts of things. You learned that while all three members of 3RACHA had a hand in composing and songwriting (a fact that you made note of for future, Changbin-teasing purposes) Chan played the biggest role when it came to arrangement. With a bit of prompting on your part, he gave in and showed you a snippet of what he’d been working on before you arrived.

Placebo was the working title. It had a hopeful, upbeat melody that made you feel light and strangely nostalgic. There were no lyrics yet—Chan was still waiting on Jisung, the final third of the boys, to finish up his parts. As it turned out, he was the wide-eyed, messy-haired junior you’d spotted hanging around Changbin all those instances over the years, and one of the first people that Chan had befriended upon moving from Australia. How they’d come to meet when Chan was three years older than him, you had no idea, but you figured this guy could become best friends with his prison guard if he really wanted to, so it didn’t seem worth questioning.

Even with its half-finished instrumental and lack of lyrics, you could already sense a potential new favorite in Placebo. Though, if you were being honest, given the expression on Chan’s face as he played it for you—earnest and giddy and biting his fist in anticipation—you might've said the same regardless of which song it was.

“Do you really like it?” He kept his eyes on the screen, but you could see the glee plastered on his face.

“I do! It makes me happy.” You slipped his headphones off and passed them back to him. “You have to show me when it’s finished, okay?”

It didn’t seem possible, but his smile grew, cheeks rising and dimples flashing. “Okay, promise.”

He held out his pinky to seal the deal. You hesitated, wincing inwardly when you remembered what had happened the last time your skin touched his. Even so, you were determined not to fumble another interaction with him, and you braced yourself before hooking your fingers together.

The heat was still very much there, though not quite as drastic as before. It didn’t jolt through your nerve-endings like it had when you’d first met; instead, it kindled at your point of contact and spread steadily along your skin, from your pinky to your palm until it warmed your entire body. Gentle and intense, all at once.

Chan looked like he had something to say, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, your phone buzzed to life on the table. Reluctantly, you unlaced your pinky from his and reached for the device, unsurprised when you saw Iseul’s name in glowing white letters.

“Sorry, one sec,” you excused yourself, knowing that if you didn’t take her call now, many more were to come.

“Hello?” your voice came out winded, and you swallowed hard to steady it.

“Are you busy?”

Your eyes darted to Chan. He’d turned his attention back to his laptop, humming quietly to himself.

“Kinda, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” she paused. “What’s up?”

“Just in the library,” you left out the fact that you were with Chan, not keen on fueling her newfound desire for matchmaking.

“I need help planning my schedule for next semester,” she sounded stressed, but you knew by now that even the most easily-solved of problems could be the end of the world in her eyes. “Literally none of these marketing sections work for me and I need this credit to graduate. I’m going fucking crazy trying to move my other classes around.”

There was no excuse for you to say no, other than the fact that academics were the last thing you wanted to think about after the midterm you’d just had. That, and, you were enjoying your time with Chan more than you’d like to admit.

“Alright, I can help you figure it out. I’ll just need some time to get to your place.”

"You’re the best,” she breathed a sigh of relief. “Hurry, please.”

At that, she hung up, probably to get right back to abusing her laptop’s trackpad with furious clicks. You slipped your phone into your pocket, and when you began gathering up your belongings, Chan’s gaze shifted back to you.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah,” you wished you didn’t feel so wistful about it. “My friend needs help with her fall schedule, she’s kinda freaking out.”

A knowing look crossed his face, lip twitching with the faintest hint of amusement. It wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he hummed. “Just think I understand now why you wanted to repay me so bad.”

You had half a mind to be taken aback, but it felt strangely expected of him, like you’d known that such a minor detail would be enough for him to catch on. That tendency you’d noticed from the first day you’d met him, making itself known more and more each time you crossed paths.

“Think you’re the only one who can do people favors?”

“Course not,” his smile mirrored yours. “I hope things work out with your friend.”

“Thanks.” You rose from your spot, wondering briefly if you should say what was on your mind before parting ways with him. “It was nice talking with you.”

“You, too.” He held up his phone, wiggling it around as a reminder. “We’ll talk more soon!”

In the end, you left the library without a single drop of caffeine in your system, yet somehow, you felt more energized than ever.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Six weeks and several study sessions later, you had come to make two more very important realizations about Bang Christopher Chan.

The first being, that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d warned you about his texting habits. You’d always thought you were bad at responding in a timely manner, hell, you’d thought Changbin was bad; but when Chan said he wasn’t the best texter, he didn’t just mean that he could be dry or slow or forgetful, he meant that most of the time, he simply didn’t text at all.

Instead, he liked to call.

You didn’t really mind—you tended to prefer talking to people over texting, anyway, but you’d admittedly been stunned when, after a week of radio silence following your encounter in the library, he’d contacted you out of the blue for no reason other than to “catch up”. No warning, no opening text, just an unexpected call that ended up stretching into a thirty minute conversation before you had to hang up and head to your next class. Another short period of no contact, and then, it had happened again. This time, just a few days following your first chat.

His calls, you’d also noticed as time went on, sometimes came at the most ungodly hours of the night. Once or twice, you’d woken up in the morning to find a missed call notification followed by an apologetic text a few hours later.

chan 🐺 (5:23 a.m.) sorry haha, didn’t realize how late it was

It left you perplexed as to when this man ever got a wink of sleep.

Even with your conversations being so sporadic, you found yourself looking forward to them regardless. He always had something interesting to share with you, from stories about people he’d met and the places he’d been, to music discussions and recommendations, to a vast array of space knowledge that he seemed to have neatly filed away in his brain. He talked about space a lot, like it was his friend. The moon, especially. It was undoubtedly your favorite topic of conversation, not only because it was a shared interest, but because the pure wonder and adoration with which he spoke of it stirred a warmth inside you like no other.

On top of all that, he always made an effort to check in with things on your end as well—in fact, it was always the first thing he asked about the moment you’d pick up, which might have been the most confusing detail of all. He was simultaneously the most absent and the most attentive communicator you’d ever met.

Once it had been made apparent to you that this routine may very well become commonplace with Chan, your curiosity had piqued enough for you to finally question him about it. His explanation, however, almost had you wishing you’d never asked, because nothing could’ve prepared you for his simple, sincere, “It’s just nice to hear your voice, y’know?”

That led into your second, more troubling realization. Somewhere along the line, you seemed to have developed a bit of a soft spot for Chan.

It had dawned on you some weeks ago, when the two of you had visited a new ice cream shop near campus that you’d mentioned was your favorite. When you’d recommended the place to him, you’d never once considered that he would take it as a suggestion for you to accompany him in trying it out. In the end, he’d ordered not one, not two, but all three of the signature flavors you told him you liked the most, detailing his thoughts about each one, with plenty of delighted hums and vocalizations in the process. Much to your horror, you’d listened to him chat passionately away with the most hopelessly endeared, involuntary smile on your face, knowing right then and there that your fate was sealed.

For that reason, your limited interaction with him was more like a blessing in disguise to you. The moment you’d discovered just how often your thoughts seemed to be preoccupied with him, your first instinct had been to distance yourself, to cut off all unnecessary contact until the pesky, ever-present daydream of his melodic laughter was forcibly expelled from your brain. Your regular meetings with him and Changbin, however, had made your efforts increasingly difficult, and you couldn’t shake the fear that, with how naturally Chan seemed to tune in to your emotions, it was only a matter of time before he noticed you behaving differently around him.

Today brought with it another moment of reckoning, another test of your resolve in the form of a two hour study session. You’d managed to get by the last few without any major slip-ups, making you especially grateful that Changbin was around to ensure you behaved more like your usual self.

bin 😑 (5:36 p.m.) oh, i forgot to tell you i can’t make it today

You stared down at your phone in disbelief, nearly coming to a halt in the middle of the road.

You’d texted Changbin this morning to double check that you were still on for studying this evening, even making sure to reach out hours in advance so he could reply before it was too late. Clearly, you’d have to give him at least a day’s notice from now on, because you were just a minute away from his complex when he’d decided to graciously inform you that he wouldn’t be coming.

you (5:36 p.m.) are u serious??? i’m almost at your place

bin 😑 (5:38 p.m.) sorry sorry it’s game night w/ minho and jisung lol. but chan’s home dw

you (5:38 p.m.) game night...you do realize this is for the final right? why isn’t chan with you guys?

bin 😑 (5:39 p.m.) relax mom i’ll come to the next one ;;; and he said he’s fine studying w/ you instead

A sense of dread twisted in your stomach. Regardless of how kind-hearted Chan was, you knew there was absolutely no chance in hell he would’ve preferred to stay home on a Friday night, tutoring you on the most demonic subjects known to man, while his friends hung out without him.

bin 😑 (5:40 p.m.) are you mad ㅜ

you (5:41 p.m.) ur a bad kid

bin 😑 (5:41 p.m.) huuuu ㅜㅜ

you (5:42 p.m.) i’m just gonna head home and tell chan we should reschedule

bin 😑 (5:42 p.m.) noooo don’t do that chan doesn’t care i promise lol

bin 😑 (5:43 p.m.) he probably prefers it this way tbh

You paused, hand resting uncertainly on the stairway railing.

you (5:44 p.m.) what do you mean?

A minute passed, then another, and still no response. You huffed, assuming you’d reached your Changbin text quota for the day, and you locked your phone irritably. If Chan was expecting you, you supposed you had no choice.

It’s not a big deal, probably. You told yourself as you trudged up the stairs. Still, it felt like one. The prospect of being alone with him stressed you out as much as it excited you. No long-distance advantage of a phone call, no Changbin serving as a bridge between the two of you; just you versus Chan and his accidental charm for the next two hours.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door of unit 8-325. You wondered briefly if he’d even heard, considering his headphones were virtually glued to his ears most of the time, but you didn’t get the chance to worry much about it before the door swung open, much sooner than you’d expected.

“Hi!” he greeted cheerfully. “How’ve you been?”

No hoodie on today. It made sense, given how much the weather had warmed up, but you personally felt that the muscle tank he had on instead wasn’t really necessary. His curls were out, too.

So, it was safe to say you weren’t doing well.

“Powering through the end of the semester,” you flashed a quick smile, shuffling inside and slipping off your shoes. “You?”

Chan shut the door with a noise of sympathy. “Same here.”

Your eyes scanned over the apartment. It felt undeniably empty without Changbin’s steady, familiar presence next to you or without Minho slinking back and forth between his room and the kitchen, making sure to cause as many distractions as possible each time he did.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out. “Changbin just told me that he wasn’t coming. If you wanna do this another night and go hang out with the others, that’s totally fine.”

He looked surprised for a moment, turning to look at you properly. “It's all good! They’ve been obsessed with that game for weeks, I got kinda sick of it, anyway.”

“Oh,” you frowned.

Chan sensed that you were still unconvinced—of course he did—and he gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here because I wanna be.”

You knew it wasn’t his intention, but your heart still skipped a beat.

“That’s what I’m so confused about, I guess.”

He simply chuckled in response, as if that were enough to explain himself. Despite your lingering concerns, you decided not to press the issue any further, and you made your way over to the kitchen table as usual to set down your bag. You realized a moment too late that you had chosen the chair right next to where his laptop was placed. Just as you were debating whether or not you could get away with switching before he noticed, he slipped into the spot next to you, blissfully unaware of the impact it’d have on your psyche for the rest of the hour.

“I’m glad you came,” he commented, setting up his own study materials. “Feels like it’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

You wondered if that was his way of letting you know that he felt you’d been avoiding him. Well, avoiding was a bit of a stretch. More like limiting your exposure, taking him in moderation so you wouldn’t get addicted.

“It does,” you agreed. “And not just ‘cause you disappear off the face of the earth when I don’t see you in person.”

“Hey, hey!” It was defensive, but good-natured as ever. “I’m just not much of a phone guy.”

“Right, you’re more of a laptop guy.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

“Speaking of,” you gestured to the device in question. “Have you made any progress on Placebo?”

He perked up, visibly brightening at your mention of the song. “A bit,” he chirped. “Actually, I rearranged some parts of it.”

“Oh?”

Chan’s eyes twinkled, and you got the feeling that something mischievous was brewing in his mind. “Not gonna show you yet, though.”

“And break our promise?” you feigned hurt.

“Our promise was for me to show you when it’s finished, yeah?” his grin was far too proud, like he’d been waiting for his chance to pull something like this. It was a newer side of him you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet—playful, cheeky.

“The fine print, huh?” you clicked your tongue in defeat. “Alright, you win.”

“That’s two for me, so far.”

With the way he giggled, it felt more like a win for you.

A good half hour had passed before the two of you began any actual studying, and it wouldn’t have bothered you—not in the slightest—if you weren’t already concerned about taking up too much of Chan’s evening. It didn’t help that he seemed to be a bit unfocused today as well, prone to veering off topic even more so than usual and leaving his attempts at explaining the material harder to follow than ever.

He pressed his lips together into an uncertain line, squinting at his laptop screen as he tried to make sense of the application of Sommerfeld expansion. Absent-mindedly, he crossed an arm over his chest to cup his neck, biceps bulging in the process. You’d learned from your talks with him that he was a swimmer, but you hadn’t quite expected him to look like that beneath the oversized jackets and hoodies that he wore so religiously. It was hard not to stare, to admire every toned curve and vein that protruded ever so slightly when he flexed his muscles.

You wondered what it’d be like to touch them; if they were as firm and powerful as they looked, or if they were surprisingly much softer, just like his demeanor. You also wondered how they might look beneath you, held down by your grasp.

“Sorry,” he sighed at last, bringing you back to your senses. “I’m not really sure about this one.”

You tore your eyes away from his arms, face heating up despite not being caught. “No worries.” You put your pen down. “Do you wanna take a break? I feel like we’re both kinda out of it tonight.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He looked relieved, and a bit self-conscious. “To be honest, I barely even understood this stuff when I was an astrophysics major.”

It was an offhand comment, but it caught your attention. You’d admittedly begun to assume as much after your second or third study group under his guidance, given the way consulted outside sources so often, but to have it confirmed brought about a whole new level of respect for Chan. And, maybe something else.

“Have you been learning thermo all over again just for me and Bin?”

His gaze fell, as if realizing in alarm that he’d inadvertently exposed himself to you. “You could say that,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I actually think I’m studying more now than I ever did when I took this class.”

A part of you wasn’t sure whether or not to be bothered that you’d been tutored by someone who wasn’t exactly qualified for the past month and a half. But no matter how badly his act of selflessness could have ended up for all three of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but affection for the boy. Well, that, and a bit of guilt for even putting him in this position in the first place. He’d gone out of his way to re-teach himself concepts that were by no means easy to grasp, solely for the sake of helping you and Changbin out. And he had. You knew for a fact that you’d not only seen improvement in your scores since meeting him, but in your confidence in the subject as a whole.

“You’re seriously too nice for your own good,” you murmured.

He reached up for his ear, tugging at his piercing. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not,” you said firmly. “Not many people would do that, especially for a stranger. So, thank you.”

“Of course,” his voice was light. “We’re friends, after all.”

“Right.”

Friends. The first time he’d said it, you’d been doubtful—both in regards to whether or not you could actually call yourselves friends, and in his intentions in doing so. Hearing it now, you felt just as strange about it, but not for the same reasons. You could safely say you were friends, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was, you wanted to be more.

“Did you like astrophysics?” you asked the question before you had the chance to say something else, something far more stupid.

“I did,” he sounded genuine, but tense. “Well, for the most part. It just felt like the most…practical thing I could do, y’know?”

“Can I ask why you changed majors?”

It was a detail that had been nagging away at the back of your mind since Changbin had first mentioned it to you. You weren’t sure why it felt so important to know, like an essential piece of the puzzle.

Chan paused, an uncomfortable look crossing his face. It barely lasted a second, but it instantly had you wishing you’d curbed your curiosity and said nothing at all.

“It’s kinda a long story,” he said slowly. You could tell he was trying to sound casual about it. His body language, however, was more than enough for you to see that he wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I guess it was just something I needed to do at the time.”

“I understand,” you decided to drop it, for his sake. “No need to get into it, if you don’t want to.”

He gave you a grateful smile. “Some other time, yeah? Can’t be telling you my life story when I’m supposed to be helping you prepare for finals.”

You hummed softly in agreement, and just like that, the atmosphere was relaxed again.

Still, the question lingered in your mind.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

It was inevitable to you, at this point, that any and all sense of time would be lost whenever you and Chan got to talking. What you’d intended to be just a short break from studying to recharge, eventually morphed into another hour and a half of you two chatting away—with a few failed attempts to get back to work here and there. That was why, when the clock struck 9:00 p.m. to mark your third hour with him, you were hardly surprised.

“Why don’t I walk you home? It’s late.”

You tried to ignore the way his offer made your stomach flip.

“Oh, no you don’t have to.” The words were out of your mouth like an instinct. It was tempting, so, so tempting, but you knew that any more exposure to Chan was sure to make your soft spot for him develop into something much more troublesome. “It's a pretty far walk.”

He tilted his head, confused as to why the distance was even worth mentioning.

“Ohh, I see,” his voice took on that same, unfamiliar quality from before. “You don’t wanna spend any more time with me, is that it?”

You blinked, scanning his face for some sign of hurt or offense. Instead, all you found was a playful smile, eyes crinkling and dimples flashing.

He was teasing you.

“You got me,” you played along, throwing your bag dramatically over your shoulder. “I only spend my Friday nights studying thermo with people I can’t stand.”

Chan giggled. It was shy and cute; the giggle of someone completely unaware of how enamored with him you really were.

“In that case, making me walk there and back shouldn’t be a problem, right? Since you hate me so much.”

You relented. It was a losing battle from the start, anyway.

The air had grown a bit chillier after sunset, which, much to your relief, meant Chan had thrown on a jacket and covered up his criminally distracting arms. You felt a strange sense of peace as the two of you strolled along the sidewalk out of his apartment phase, stealing glances at him as often as the streetlights would allow. He had his hands in his pockets, swinging them with each step he took and swaying his head along with the breeze that brushed through his curls.

It was hopeless. You were so hopelessly taken by him.

“There she is,” you remarked, slowing your pace to gaze upwards. “That moon you love so much.”

It reflected a pure, white light among the sea of stars, owning the sky in all its Waning Gibbous glory.

“Beautiful,” you heard Chan murmur.

You looked over at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes illuminated by the moon as he stared up in awe. Instead, you found him staring right at you.

He seemed taken aback for a moment. Even so, for once, he didn’t look away. He simply smiled.

Warmth spread through your chest, and you knew this time you couldn’t blame it on his body heat.

“I think you have us both beat,” you said softly.

At that, he broke eye contact. He ducked his head with a shy puff of laughter, pressing his cheek into his shoulder to hide his face. You rode the high of it for the rest of your walk home together.

The two of you were mostly quiet as you neared your apartment complex, letting the silence hang comfortably around you. Despite the long walk, neither of you were in any particular hurry, and when you approached the front gate of your building, you couldn’t help but feel that the time had slipped away from you all too quickly.

“Thanks again for walking me home,” you murmured. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he grinned.

Your hand rested tentatively on the handle, not yet wanting this moment to end.

“Not gonna try to return the favor, are you?” His eyes sparkled in the low light. Even when he was messing with you, he still sounded seconds away from becoming flustered himself.

You smiled. “I’ve got something in mind.”

Before he could say anything else, and before you could second guess yourself, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was quick and innocent, but it made his breath catch in his throat all the same.

When you pulled back, Chan’s fingers came to hover over the spot your lips had been moments ago. You wished the lighting in the hallway was stronger, so that you could fully see the furious blush that you knew was spreading across his face.

His eyes flickered down to your lips. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t have to for you to hear him willing you to do it, begging you to do it.

So, you leaned in again and kissed him.

The heat that surged through you was different this time. It didn’t make you flinch or jolt back in alarm; it drew you in. However soft you’d imagined Chan’s lips to be—plush and heart-shaped and irresistible—the reality was infinitely softer.

Your hands reached up to cup his face. His warmth fed into yours, and vice versa, and somewhere in the back of your mind, it became clear that the fire had been coming from both of you this entire time. He sighed sweetly into the kiss, tilting his head forward, trying somehow to deepen it even further, like he wouldn’t satisfied until you were completely melded together.

The two of you might have stayed that way if your lungs hadn’t begun to cry for air. Reluctantly, you pulled away, leaving you both breathless and longing for each other’s warmth again. All the efforts you’d made to hold yourself back around him seemed so laughable now. You didn’t want him in moderation, you wanted all of him.

Chan’s eyes fluttered open, dark and dazed. The sight made you want to pull him inside with you, to take him apart bit by bit and put him back together again, over and over until you knew him inside and out.

Instead, you brushed your thumb over his burning cheek, touch harboring a gentleness that masked the ache inside you.

“Get home safe, Channie,” you whispered.

#bang chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids imagines #skz fanfic #bang chan x you #bang chan fluff #skz x you

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

For the writing requests, can I request a hurt/comfort scenario where Bi-han has accidentally hurts or almost hurts the reader with his powers? Like maybe he loses control during an argument or an intimate moment, or maybe they're training or on a mission he accidentally hits them with ice in the heat of battle. He feels really guilty about what he did, but reader knows it was an accident and tries to help him through it. Feel free to edit the scenario as you please. Thank you!

Bi-Han was furious.

No, that word doesn’t even begin to come close to describing how he felt in that moment. Bi-Han was livid and it was all in due to the sheer recklessness that you had shown during your most recent mission. You almost died on serval occasions throughout the mission but had managed to escape with minimal injuries by the skin of your teeth. However Bi-Han didn’t care about that part of the story because despite being happy and relieved as he was that you had came back to him with treatable wounds; his main focus was on the fact that you were so careless with your life, so irresponsible and so seemingly uncaring of the consequences that your actions would’ve caused had it weren’t been for your quick thinking.

So as Bi-Han was practicing patience whilst waiting for you to finish up your medical examination, you finally exited the room and just before a single word could escape your mouth to question his reason for being here, fulling believing that he would’ve been deeply involved with some Grandmaster business. Bi-Han then grabbed you by the bicep, his ice cold hand drawing a sharp gasp from you as he wordlessly dragged you to your shared room, where upon arriving, he swiftly shut the door behind him before addressing you directly. ‘What were you thinking out there!’ The cryomancer hissed, taking a step towards you. ‘Your reckless could’ve jeopardised the mission.’ Bi-Han adds and everything leading up to now had finally started to make sense.

You knew that it would only be a matter of time before word reached Bi-Han and you knew it would only be a matter of when before he would hunt you down and demand answers. ‘The only thing that you should concern yourself with is the fact that we achieved what we were sent out to do. The mission was a proven success, the method as to how we obtain that success shouldn’t matter.’ You replied straightforwardly, wanting to be done with this argument as fast as you possibly could, having already finding it redundant; and while the fact that you had gotten ahead of yourself during the mission was something worth criticising.

You weren’t new to this. You knew exactly what you were doing and you knew that Bi-Han’s frustrations often came from a place of worry and deep concern, but since he doesn’t give himself the leeway to express his innermost emotions that when he does, it comes across as him being angry or frustrated. ‘You almost got yourself killed!’ Bi-Han practically exclaimed, his hand that was clutching onto your bicep tightened it’s grip, causing you to wince as you felt a numbing or a painful tingling sensation -which one it actually was you weren’t really sure- spread across your bicep. You tried to breath through the pain and act as though Bi-Han wasn’t currently giving you frost burn, but you knew that the longer you let this went on, the more severe the damage you would sustain.

And not even a second later, your willpower to push through the pain was quickly reduced to nothing, as you found yourself wanting nothing more then the numbing, tingling pain stop. ‘Bi-Han.’ You tired saying with a steady voice but the inflictions of hidden pain within the way you said his name had him on guard. ‘Please let me go, it’s hurts, you’re hurting me.’ Was all you said in a whisper, just as a tear escaped from your eye and streaked down your cheek, before gesturing with your eyes towards the hand he had kept glued to your bicep since the beginning of your argument; which at this point had felt as though there was a small impact of ice growing from within. Upon your desperate plea to be released, Bi-Han immediately removed his hand as though you had somehow burnt him.

He watched as you whimpered and it all hit him hard that despite the fact that he had already let go, you were still very much in pain and he was the reason that you were in pain. He had let himself become overwhelmed with emotions and as a result his powers, something that he has sworn to only use as a means of protecting you, had potentially caused you irreparable damage. Bi-Han was sickened by the thought and by extension he was sickened with himself for allowing you to get hurt in the one place he promised that you’d never be hurt. Ever. ‘I hurt you.’ He said after a moment of torturous silence. ‘I was hurting you, the one person I’d swore to protect with my last breath.’ His soul was screaming, completely torn between wanting to come to your aid and comfort you but also fearing the idea of harming you more than he already had.

‘How long was I hurting you before you spoke up?’ Bi-Han asked as he gauged your expressions closely in the instance you were still withholding the rest of your pain from him.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ You say, trying to reach for his hand to hold but Bi-Han withdraw from your attempts, hiding his hands behind his back in shame as he averted your forgiving gaze that he didn’t feel he deserved.

‘It matters to me, my love.’ Bi-Han stated, clenching his fists. ‘I hurt you. Whether it was intentional or unintentional doesn’t make much of a difference when the end result is all the same. I hurt you. I caused you pain. I made you shed a tear. I made promises that I see now that I can not keep.’ The cryomancer finished as he chose to stare at the floor before closing his eyes, where he would be greeted with flashes of your pained face and the tear that streamed down your cheek; Even from behind his eyelids he was being haunted. If Bi-Han could take your pain he would without hesitation, but he couldn’t and with that brought the dreaded sense of helplessness.

‘Bi-Han.’ You uttered softly, moving to stand in front of him, watching closely as his breath hitched in his throat and took notice of how his body tensed uncomfortably into itself, as you reached your hands out to cradle his perpetually conflicted face between them before Bi-Han melted into your touch, practically nuzzling his face further into your touch. You smile at this as you proceeded to stroke the apples of his cheeks with your thumbs. ‘You didn’t mean it and I know you’d never intentionally hurt me. Ever. You’ve proven that more then enough times for me to know that you’re a man of your word.’ You told him as you pressed a kiss to his forehead, then down to his nose, then finally pecking his plush lips. ‘Your hands are the only hands I could ever feel safest within.’ You admitted, kissing his lips once again.

#mk1 #mk1 x reader #mk x y/n #mk x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x you #bi han imagine #bi han imagines #bi han x reader #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #sub zero x reader

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inthelquvre · 4 months

Note

finnick odair who wants nothing more than for you to let him play with your hair the night before the quarter quell to calm his nerves.

warnings: fem!reader, small mentions of panic attacks, trauma : (, mentions of snow being a dick, fluff and sadness : (

a/n: thanks for the request! i tried to make this as in character as possible lol. big thanks to everyone for the reblogs and likes!!!! i love you all loads!!!!

finnick odair was the strongest person you knew, you were sure of it.

he held his head high and scolded people that had offensive comments. he was strong physically too, he knew how to handle a weapon, how to defend himself against an enemy. all of those things that made a victor a victor.

unfortunately, finnick hadn’t shown you the other side of him. he had never shown anyone. but now, after the announcement of the quarter quell being played with previous victors? he fell apart like a house of cards victim to a harsh wind.

you were barley holding yourself together too. the victory of your games had only come by the fact that the other tribute from your district, your friend, killed the last opponent before himself. it was a long and painful and treacherous game that you had barley made out of alive, forever cursed with the nightmares of the fallen tributes. forever cursed with the thought of death plaguing your mind. forever cursed with the loss of a friend. and forever cursed with the fact that you, a teenager, were seen as desirable to the citizens of the capitol.

little to your knowledge, finnick was cursed with the same tragedy. countless nights the two of you shared the same experience of curling deep into your bed and letting salt stream flow out your eyes and into your ears.

the first time you were aware of your shared experience was the night after president snow had announced that the quarter quell would be played by previous victors. your name was called, then his— finnicks. the two of you were pulled back behind the stage where you broke down on the cold cement floor. it seemed to come naturally, finnick to you. he fell to his knees beside you, muttering soft words of comfort while rubbing your back gently. you noticed the way his hands were wet with his own tears when he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

finnick had been your mentor, he would go as far to say he had been your friend, but when you arrived back from your games with bloodshot eyes and bruised knuckles you disappeared. no one, not even your parents, heard from you for weeks. finnick tried his best to make you come out of the shell of your bedroom but everything seemed to remind you of the games— the bloodbath. and yet he still tried, for what? he didn’t know.

12 hours.

that's how long you, and the other tributes had until you were thrown back into the ring.

you couldn’t sleep. the glass windows looking down onto the capitol somehow made you feel claustrophobic. the bedsheets and clothes provided by that capitol that were supposed to make you feel warm burned and blistered your skin, leaving you to strip into shorts and a tank top, goosebumps speckled your skin but you couldn’t feel them. you were sure you were about to pass out, maybe then you wouldn’t have to fight.

until a soft knock sounded on the metal door.

your breath hitched, you tiptoed over and slowly pulled it open.

there, in all his glory, stood a restless finnick odair. he swallowed, and you could see the redness in his eyes, similar to how yours had once been. “hey… i’m sorry, did i wake you?” his voice was soft, much softer than anything you had ever heard from him.

“no, no, not at all…” you replied with the same tone as his. in an unspoken way, you opened the door to invite finnick in.

his bare feet squeaked against the cold floor but you didn’t say anything.

your throat made a weird noise but he didn’t say anything.

you sat on the bed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. it was weird, finnick standing in your room, looking weak. finnick wasn’t weak, was he?

“i’m really sorry—“ he started. his voice trembled and you frowned. he wasn’t weak, he was scared.

the clothes on your skin suddenly didn’t feel like lava, the bedsheets didn’t feel like fire. and you could tell finnick felt the same way. you patted the spot next to you and he sat down wordlessly.

when he was closer you could see the tears sitting on the edge of his waterline. the way his chin moved as if he was about to cry. your heart broke alongside his. “oh, finnick…” you sighed. the urge was to strong, you reached out and gently tugged his wrist towards you. his big body fell against yours with a sigh. “shh…” a hand went to rub his arm, the other finding its way to his golden hair.

the night went on long and finnick soon found himself positioned between your legs with his head on your chest. your hands in his hair. his hands wrapped around your middle.

it didn’t seem as weird as it should have. it felt natural. just like how it was when he comforted you for the first time. his eyes were shut, focused on the soft drum of your heart. it relaxed you too, his soft hair in between your fingers. “i’m sorry.” the boy finally murmured, his eyes still closed.

“oh finnick, don’t be sorry.” you were so soft with him, he didn’t have to be tough. “i needed this too.” a soft smile spread across your face and you couldn’t deny the way blood rushed to your cheeks when he tightened his grip around your middle.

“tomorrow…” he started, very soft. so soft you almost didn’t hear. “tomorrow i’m gonna promise to protect you, got it?” your heart fluttered.

“yeah, i got it. i’ll protect you too.”

finnick smiled. “thanks.”

and the next day he lived up to his promise, even if it meant a lecture from haymitch afterwards.

#finnick odair #hunger games catching fire #thg finnick #mags flanagan #finnick odair imagine #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair fluff

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multific · 1 year

Text

A Wedding

Elder Yautja x Reader

Warning: suggested smut

Summary: Wedding ceremony with an elder Yautja.

You knew your wedding will be different.

You have seen many weddings throughout your time with the tribe, but all who got married were younglings.

You were betrothed to an elder.

It was rather unusual for elders to get married so late. Usually by this time they would have taken a mate or multiple wives.

Not J'rik'au though.

It was as if he was waiting for you.

His status was shown by the respect he got from the others.

You have loved him from the moment you saw him. He was amongst the many who encouraged humans to join the Yautja world. Where they no longer hunted humans but joined forces.

Weddings were a good occasion for union.

But not many humans were willing to marry.

There were a few but not a lot.

However, as soon as you saw J'rik'au, you were done for.

He started courting you the traditional way not long after you and a couple other humans arrived to his tribe. While the other humans left, you never did.

You accepted his affection and soon, he asked you to become his wife.

And so, you were preparing for your wedding.

A very traditional Yautja wedding. Which you barely knew anything about, but you didn't care.

You knew he will have to prove himself to you as a worthy male through hunting.

So, for the last couple of days, he has been gone, looking for a worthy kill.

It was a very different wedding, but you liked it. You were waiting for him under a beautifully decorated gate.

You were fully dressed in a flowy material and your neck and shoulders were decorated with bones.

A female explained to you it was from your groom's previous kills. Assembled by him, as per tradition.

You asked her, how can you prove your worth to J'rik'au, after all, marriage had to be a two way street but she laughed.

In Yautja society, the only thing a female, who is not a warrior, has to prove is gifting children, strong children to their mate.

What if you couldn't? Yautja didn't believe in such a thing.

And so, now, you were standing there, waiting for him and soon his ship landed. He was unhurt of course, and in his hand was a huge monster's head. You have never seen a head like that. It was huge so you could only imagine the size of the actual beast. He placed it in front of you as he knelt down.

The fact that he was an elder didn't mean he was old. Not at all. His senses were still sharp and the fact that he came back from the hunt, unhurt was proof of that.

He did have a couple of cuts and bruises but mostly he was unhurt.

As you looked at him kneeling, you caught one of the females motioning for you to go to him.

J'rik'au was asking for your approval. Without it, he failed to prove his worth as a male. With it, he will be able to marry you. That is what the gate was for. For both of you to walk through it and start your lives together.

Of course, you accepted the kill.

Everyone around you cheered as you both walked your way to celebrate.

Weddings were very different but in a good way.

Celebration was also held, after all, their elder did find their mate. So, a great feast was planned. Everyone in the tribe paid tribute via gifts.

But you couldn't be happier.

A smile never left your face as he always held you close.

Traditionally, after the celebration, you two went back to your home.

Now, with a brand new bed, covered in new furs, he laid you down.

It was Yautja custom, much like after human weddings for the couple to go on their honeymoon. The difference was that while people on Earth usually travelled, Yautja shut themselves into their homes with their mates.

This was not for the female to get pregnant, this was for the newly married couple to spend some time together. The tribe would provide food for them, so the male doesn't have to leave.

For them, this was to ensure that the couple is happy together and would have a fulfilling life together.

J'rik'au took really great care of you.

Even if this wasn't the first time the two of you had sex, this felt different. He was always caring and attentive, but now, he was even more so.

He didn't let you leave the bed, he carried you if you had somewhere to go in the house.

J'rik'au proved that he would be an amazing husband even before you agreed to marry him.

And he was doing just that. Being an amazing husband.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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batfambyval · 7 months

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okay. So.

Serious Red Robin theory coming.

Tim wasn’t put in the Lazarus Pit. But. That doesn’t mean they didn’t use it on him. The pit’s healing properties have been shown to work in small portions. Like, the healing is proportional to the amount of lw used.

The cave with the pit isn’t exactly a sterile environment. So either the pit was needed or it was an attempt to put Tim off balance, a psychological weapon. Though the White Ghost’s reaction to the assumption seems to dispute that. If the pit’s healing is proportional to the amount used it makes sense that the psychological effects are to, along with the duration of those side effects.

Ra’s had serious reasons to use the pit on Tim, between the additional room for emotional manipulation and Tim’s life threatening injury which wasn’t immediately treated and was in fact exacerbated like, a lot… yeah. Tim lost a lot of blood. He lost was stabbed in the organ that filters blood: meaning all your blood passes through your spleen. He was bleeding out, he should have died, he dragged himself and another person to a car, drove said car back to the city, and got them both up to the penthouse. Recovering from that would take a long time, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But he healed quickly and well, it isn’t an issue, it happened and it was over. I know we as a fandom like to have fun with Tim’s missing spleen and what that means but… canon didn’t and looking back I feel like there was a lot pointing at the pit being used in a much more insidious was, not just in the logistics of Tim’s recovery.

Ra’s was insanely trusting of Tim. Not just in his ability to do what he wanted but in his belief that Tim would ultimately come around to his way of thinking. Now, I can obviously see that Tim was in a very vulnerable position and if Bruce hadn’t actually been alive Ra’s could definitely have succeeded. But it feels like more than that, especially with Tim’s ensuing behavior. A lot of his time with the league is glossed over or seen from Tam’s perspective, but Tim was acting different. It’s easy to attribute this to the objectively terrible situation and the year he’s had, but his behavior isn’t the same as it was at the beginning of the run either. And the difference in behavior fades. As Red Robin Tim is more ruthless and pragmatic, mostly due to necessity. Even stealing from a museum and fighting for it makes him incredibly uncomfortable. He still did it. But he was still acting like Tim, making jokes and doing his best to diffuse the situation and keep everyone alive. After the surgery his focus gets even more single minded. He barely puts up a fight about leading the league. Of course partly for Tam, and he tried to keep killing to a minimum but cmon. He was leading the league of ASSASSINS. There were assassinations happening. People died when he blew all the league bases and he barely registered that beyond thinking that the council of spiders probably made it out, implying part of him knew death was a possibility and he didn’t care. But he didn’t think about the moral implications of that in a way that was very reminiscent of Jason’s selective morality. If he had stopped to think about it he wouldn’t have done it, but he was focused to much on beating Ra’s, on not compromising, that the complexity of the situation didn’t sink in. The obvious effects of his actions, the possible deaths and injuries of anyone inside a league stronghold wasn’t acknowledged while the underlying message sent to his opponent was the only thing he could think about. Just like when Jason attacked Tim at Titans Tower to send a message to Bruce despite his hardline stance against hurting kids.

So. The League did use the pit on Tim, just a little. Maybe two tablespoons in the wound to accelerate recovery and weaken his morals a bit. It would certainly make a lot of sense. And the writer did change when Tim came back to Gotham so it’s entirely possible that it was meant to be touched on later but was discarded.

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thisrobinisred · 21 days

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Spoilers ahead The kisaragi station AU’s ending really just felt like a reminder about Mitsuba and Kou’s inevitable ending. The fact that, no matter what they do, no matter what universe it is, they can never truly be together.

And we have seen this time and time again.

Starting from Mitsuba’s death.

Then they reunite, but Tsukasa intervenes.

And this affects Kou greatly, to the point where he feels like he can no longer fail when protecting people or making promises. Eventually they meet again,

But he’s no longer the Mitsuba Sousuke. Sure he looks and acts like him (and is made from a part of him), but he doesn’t have his memories or experiences. Kou is clearly shown to be practically heartbroken by this. Perhaps it’s because of this, that Mitsuba wants to know who he is properly, and to know his original past. Which eventually leads to the picture perfect arc. Where Mitsuba knows a bit about himself now, aswell as Kou. Through Mitsubas actions you can tell that he really does want to be friends with Kou. Yet they’re both aware that this is all fake. Mitsuba knows that who Kou really wants is the original one. However..

Kou was perfectly willing, happy even, to kill himself to be with Mitsuba - so that Mitsuba wasn’t alone anymore. But, Mitsuba doesn’t want this for Kou so in the end he intervenes. When they return to the real world, he still keeps an eye on Kou. To the point where during the summer sleepover he even goes to Kou to try and help him with his problems after overhearing the conversation between Yokoo and Satou.

But merely hours later, the severance occurs. Separating them once more. During this, Yashiro and Kou meet Mitsubas mother. It’s during this that Kou seems to finally process the fact that he is dead, and has been for a while now.

Seemingly out of nowhere, once supernaturals are able to return to their world, Mitsuba goes to Kou. Which is nice, but Mitsuba ends up asking Kou to exorcise him. Obviously, Kou refuses to, why would he even ask him that in the first place? Then everything with the clock keepers happen, causing them to make a new present.

But it’s different. Basically everyone who is dead, is alive. And for one of the first times, both mitsuba and Kou are alive, happy and close, without it being fake. In a timeline where everything is practically messed up for everyone else (especially their relationships and friendships) it isn’t for these two. Which is another reminder of why they will never be able to stay together. Everything that makes the original timeline the original, is what keeps them apart. So, just like mitsuba said in the kisaragi station AU,

‘I can’t follow you anymore.’ He is incapable of being able to join Kou.

They can never walk the same path forever, as one way or another, they’ll never get their happy ending together. Perhaps that’s why in this event Mitsuba wasn’t wearing either of his scarfs, as it doesn’t really matter which one he is for it will always end like this for the originals.

Sorry I’m not really good at wording things and I’ve never doing anything like this before-

#mitsukou #mitsuba x kou #mitsuba sousuke #kou minamoto #tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #i love my doomed yaoi #I love all the angst for these two #But at the same time part of me wants them to have a happy ending 😭#robin rambles

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prying-pandora666 · 3 months

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The Real Reason Azula Smirked When Zuko Was Burned is…

A lot of ink has been spilled over why Azula smirked when Ozai burned and scarred Zuko.

Some argue whether Iroh’s flashback was reliable. Let’s assume for the sake of argument—as uncertain as it is in canon—that it happened exactly as Iroh remembers and describes it.

How could an 11 year old child smirk while her brother is burned and brutalized in front of everyone?

There are many conflicting arguments.

Argument 1 - She’s a monster.

Some say she is a sadist or a psychopath and it’s as simple as that. She just enjoys watching her brother suffer.

But this doesn’t track with what we come to learn about her later, and is outright contradicted by materials that actually give us insight into her POV such as the comics and novelizations, as well as writer interviews.

The novelizations which were written contemporaneously (and thus aren’t a retcon) show us an Azula who cares about Zuko, even though she’s competitive with him and jealous that mom favored him. She thinks Zuko is weak and brings misery upon himself and she is willing to turn on him to protect herself. Yet she still wants to help him get stronger and take his place as Prince. She still wants his love. She takes the risk to lie on his behalf at Ba Sing Se for him. She didn’t suspect Aang had survived until later.

The comics take this further, showing that in Azula’s ideal world, Zuko was never banished or burned at all. He is happy and loves her and isn’t abused or scarred.

Even the head writer who designed both Zuko and Azula’s arcs claimed she loved Zuko more than anyone except their father.

So then what is it?

Argument 2 - It’s A Coping Mechanism

Some point to “Identification with the Aggressor”, a well documented psychological coping mechanism in which victims of trauma—especially children who are especially malleable and vulnerable—will mirror their abuser and conform to their ideals in an attempt to stay in their good graces and be spared. This isn’t always a conscious decision either, it’s often done subconsciously, which only confounds this further.

I’ve written more about this and how it pertains to Azula here.

However, outside the the knowledge that this is common in abused children and Azula’s behaviors meet the criteria, we don’t have any direct confirmation that this is the case.

Argument 3 - She Is Brainwashed

Others point out that every adult in the room is complicit in this act if not outright enjoying it in the cases of Ozai and Zhao.

Azula is a small child that’s been brainwashed from birth to believe this is right. After all, Ozai is their unquestionable despotic leader as well as her only remaining parental figure. Why would she question? How would she even know this is wrong if she’s been taught this is right by everyone surrounding her?

Does she even understand the full impact of what is happening here or does she think this is Zuko getting his comeuppance for being “weak and lazy”, with no concept that he’s actually being scarred for life and is soon to be banished? After all, not even jolly Uncle Iroh is objecting or moving a finger to stop this. He only looks away.

This is supported by the fact that Iroh laughed about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground even as he was killing them. Zuko and Azula both laugh at this joke and Ursa doesn’t chastise them. She only smiles. Clearly this kind of violence is normalized in the Fire Nation.

We also know Azula attended the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, which in the Kyoshi novels we are told is quite violent and that it wasn’t uncommon for adults to encourage students to duel on Agni Kais. Students sometimes died. So there is reason to suspect this is a product of her culture.

Argument 4 - She is Faking It

“Azula always lies” they say. She is shown to be an excellent liar, but more importantly that she represses her vulnerabilities and feelings.

This is shown when Toph tries to sense Azula’s lies only for Azula to completely repress any reactions and prove Toph can’t determine when Azula is being truthful.

youtube

The Beach gives us a more sympathetic example, showing us an Azula who empathizes with her brother and tries to cheer him up when he’s sitting by their old family beach house in depression. She calls him to join them at the shore, and then proceeds to walk all her friends and Zuko through their traumas with surprising gentility.

When it’s her turn however? She dismisses her own trauma with a flippant joke. Masking the moment she starts to feel emotional about it.

It’s even shown when Zuko makes Ty Lee cry by calling her a circus freak. Initially Azula laughs, but when she realizes it’s upset Ty Lee, Azula’s face changes to one of remorse and sadness. However, the moment Ty Lee turns to look at Azula, Azula quickly hides this expression and masks it with a look of indignant petulance.

youtube

Azula does indeed seem to fake negative reactions to hide her vulnerabilities.

Argument 5 - It’s a combination of 2-4

Perhaps there is some truth to all of what we have seen in arguments 2-4. Azula is clearly brainwashed and does identify with her abuser to the point of being inappropriately enmeshed with him and suffering total ego fragmentation when he discards her. She does repress her emotions until she finally unravels. She was also quite young when this show happened and it’s possible she didn’t know just how serious it was all going to be.

But consider this…

Still that isn’t enough for detractors, who claim that even given her environment and the circumstances, it’s still too sadistic and cruel for her to grin here. That she should’ve shown some outward sign of disruption.

If you are or ever were one of these detractors, let me ask you this.

Did you feel any sympathy when Azula fell apart, uncomforted by her newly granted power, arguing against her own conscience in the form of her estranged mother, telling her that her methods are wrong? When Azula replied “what choice do I have?” did you feel any remorse for this child who had been exploited for her skill and groomed into living weapon by her power-hungry father, with no regard for her psychosocial development or emotional wellbeing to the point she cannot even relate to kids her own age normally? Did her desperation to use fear and control to keep others close because she knows no other reliable way, because such skills are taught and she’s only ever learned manipulation and coercing and fear, showing us exactly what Ozai uses to control her just as used violence and estrangement against Zuko, move you?

When she laid broken and sobbing and screaming at the end after Zuko and Katara “put her in her place” as Zuko put it, did you feel any pain in your gut?

Or did you cheer?

Were you glad to for her to get her comeuppance?

Did you feel justice was served and Zuko triumphed that day?

That he was right, he could “take her” by exploiting how “off” she was aka her mental illness and spiral into psychosis?

Because if you did, then you know exactly why a person would smirk while watching someone who needs help get brutalized.

If narrative framing can persuade you to believe that an unloved, mentally ill, abused and exploited child soldier being brought to sobbing, screaming, chained up, broken tears… is the RIGHTEOUS result! Imagine what a lifetime of propaganda from birth and programming from your own father with no one to show you another way would do to you.

Why did Azula smirk while Ozai burned Zuko?

You already know the answer.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #azula #zuko #Youtube

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bliss-in-the-void · 8 months

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Why is Satoru so fixated on this idea of “never letting anyone be alone again”?

The answer at face value is obvious, Suguru was alone after they started taking solo missions, but let’s really talk about the gravity of that statement, and also the relevance that Shoko’s “I was there too, you weren’t alone” has with this concept.

I’ll be discussing the manga so spoilers if you aren’t caught up:

This analysis cooks I tell you

In Jujukai 0, Satoru sees that Yuuta tried killing himself with a knife to prevent hurting other people. He wants to confine himself completely and be alone, exactly like what Suguru had to go through a decade earlier. Satoru recognizes this and forces Yuuta to join the first years so that he won’t be alone and face the same descent into madness that Suguru did. He feels that he failed Suguru, and this is shown time and time again throughout the story, such as here:

Here, Satoru had a discussion with Shoko, who is remembering that conversation. He said that he’ll raise the next crop of sorcerers to be allies so no one will be alone (his prime motivation for everything), and then Shoko responds effectively, “I’d never fall in love with either of you, but even still, I was still there, you weren’t alone”

But she isn’t recognizing the full meaning behind Satoru’s words. Because what happened after Satoru became the strongest? This became his belief:

He advanced at such a quick rate that he left Suguru in the dust. And that caused both of them to be alone. He was alone in being the strongest, and Suguru was alone in being unable to reach that same level, alone to deal with curses on solo missions, and alone in his descent of madness. It drove them apart, and got in between their bond.

I think Shoko recognizes that much. But I thought it was weird when she suddenly said “I’d never fall in love with either of you” because it was like…well, yeah, but why say that? Bringing up love seemed kind of random and out of place.

And then I realized it’s because she recognizes that Satoru and Suguru were in love with each other. Being in love with someone means that you feel a certain level of depth unmatched with anyone else. You feel like the two of you are at the top of the world, or in your very own world, apart from the rest, completely untouchable. Time and time again we see this shown throughout Satoru and Suguru’s interactions.

That is what Shoko means when she says “I’d never fall in love with either of you”. She’s saying “I recognize that I never felt the kind of love you two had for each other, but you were still never alone.”

And I get that. But because she doesn’t comprehend the bond they had (and really, she couldn’t, because the only ones who can truly feel it are the two of them), Satoru and Suguru really were alone once they split up. Maybe not physically, but emotionally, they were all alone.

And Satoru left Suguru first. Not physically, but emotionally. Because of the stark difference in their abilities. And that is what lead Suguru down his dark path, because he felt alone, and Satoru wasn’t there to chase away his contempt for non-sorcerers like he used to.

When Satoru says he wants to raise strong allies so no one is alone, he’s saying that he wants no one to be the strongest, he wants everyone to be at the same level, so that there’s no barriers, there’s no blind reliance on power causing someone to take what they have in front of them for granted like he did to Suguru.

That’s why this hits harder given that context:

“Trust, huh? To think you still had some of that for me.”

Suguru spent these last 10 years thinking that Satoru didn’t trust him, didn’t need to, because of the difference in their abilities. Why trust someone else when you need only rely on your own powers? Or, in the animated version, Suguru says,

“You want to talk about trust? I didn’t think I still had any of that left, with the shit I went through.”

Satoru left him alone when he “alone became the honored one,” breaking Suguru’s trust. From that point, he didn’t pay real attention to Suguru. When he asked Suguru “have you lost weight? Are you okay?” And accepted Suguru’s half-baked answer, that showed Suguru that Satoru didn’t really care. Or at least, wasn’t paying enough attention to know something was seriously wrong. Broken trust. Satoru had abandoned him and their bond.

Too late, Satoru recognizes this. And he makes his vow to raise the next generation to be strong allies so that no one gets left behind like Suguru or isolated and “special” like himself. You can even see it when he decides to put Itadori in the room right next to Megumi. He never wants it to happen again.

#jjk #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #stsg #suguru geto #satoru gojo #jujukai #jjk spoilers #satosugu meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen analysis #satoru x suguru

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animeyanderelover · 2 months

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Hello can I request a yandere indra + madara, obito, sasuke, itachi and shisui x goddess reader. The reader is a goddess of serenity, beauty, strength and healing. Thank you very much.

I just love how the Uchiha blood line has just the whole Naruto fandom in a chokehold. I have never not met a person who wasn’t at least down bad for one of them.

@shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, clinginess, delusional thoughts, threats, manipulation, paranoia, death

Goddess s/o

Indra Otsutsuki

💜Indra is one of the last people you will see bowing down to anyone after he has abandoned his father and brother. Instead he is the one who expects people to bow down to him as he is essentially a god with the powers he has obtained after having killed his two close friends in exchange for more power. It is that very arrogance that keeps him from even bowing his head to you. It is almost ironic how he has cursed his father for claiming that love would be the greatest power yet finds himself going through a similar experience when he is face to face with you for the first time. There is an ethereal glow around your body that sets you apart from the mortal humans, that sets you apart from him as he stares at you. Even after you fade away from his vision, his gaze remains fixated on the spot where you just were a few seconds ago. His mind is spinning, drowning in the images of the short glimpses he was able to catch of you. He wants to see you again. In your otherworldly presence he has finally felt something he hasn’t felt ever since he left his village and has been plagued by restlessness. He feels peace.

💜He doesn’t plan to join your group of worshippers but he sticks around them and the shrine they have created in hopes of catching a glimpse of you again. As enchanted as Indra may be, there is a volcano of twisted emotions that is just brooding inside of him. Your status as a goddess disturbs him and that disturbance has been inside of him ever since he has been humbled and humiliated by Ashura in the fight that tore all bonds he had previously held. Deep down he fears a repeat of this experience, of another loss of his, if he were to ever try to force you to join his side. He feels an overwhelming need to dominate you, to stand above you and force you via that into submission. He needs the reassurance of holding control as he would otherwise be too paranoid about you eventually beating him just like Ashura. Yet you two live in different worlds as you only rarely visit the realm of humans and it fills him with a poison called helplessness that he despises. His mind spirals into violent insanity as he will gladly burn down all of your followers and even your own shrine if you will answer the call of his obsession.

Madara Uchiha

🌑Madara has never prayed to anyone before. He has trained to stand as the head of his clan and he has achieved it all with his own strength and willpower. Yet his interest is immediately captured when he actually finds a real goddess that personifies strength and beauty. In a way he is almost instantly enraptured but don’t expect him to go down on both knees for you as Madara has never shown submission to anyone. Even your status as a goddess won’t force him to throw away his pride. Your ancient position as a goddess is still enough to earn you his respect, especially if he sees your powers in action. You carry yourself with a wisdom and elegance he would expect from someone who has existed for millennia as you have and you possess such beauty and serene composure that any mortal woman pales in comparison to you in every category. Ever since the day he has seen you, he hasn’t been able to give his attention nor interest to any women the clan has offered him as a potential bride. None of them could come even close to you so he ruthlessly rejects them all. He has only one woman in his heart he wants as a bride. You.

🌑Even if he may be blasphemous for yearning to claim a goddess as his possession, Madara doesn’t care. He has set his sights on you and nothing can stop him now. He’s persistent and stubborn, determined to marry you. Unfortunately you aren’t that easy to detect as you reside in a realm where humans can’t follow so he instead tracks down your followers and your shrine. Perhaps your subjects can be of use to help him to see you again. Now, Madara will be man enough to ask you for your hand in marriage when he sees you again and he isn’t opposed if you would play a bit hard to get so he can prove himself to you. If your opinion would stand firm that you don’t want to marry him though, things will look not pretty. In the traditional Uchiha fashion Madara’s feelings burn brighter than the sun and nothing can extinguish the fire in his heart. Once he has decided that only you will do for him, he will do everything in his strength to have you. He knows that he is potentially picking a fight with a goddess but he doesn’t fear the risk of such a battle. If he must fight against you to force you to stay by his side, so be it.

Obito Uchiha

🔥Ever since Rin’s death, ever since his innocence has been shattered, Obito has been living in hell. Life on earth has become synonymous with suffering and evil for him as his heart hasn’t known peace and joy since years. That’s when you two cross paths as he finds your abandoned shrine within the woods. As soon as he lays his eye on you, it’s like his crippled heart is healing as he feels serenity and calmness wrapping itself around him like a warm blanket. All caution and hostility melts away as the Uchiha can only stare at you in dreamy awe as you look at him with such dazzling eyes. The moment you disappear, it feels like a hole has opened in his heart that is aching. His gaze lands on the dirty and old shrine and suddenly there is a rage filling Obito as he realizes that the followers who used to care for your house on earth have abandoned it and have abandoned you by doing so. You poor thing. How must it feel for a goddess to be slowly forgotten? He starts tending to the shrine from that day on as he cleans it from the moss and visits it daily. He knows that you’re watching him whenever he feels his heartbeat calming down.

🔥He feels like the shrine is the place where only the two of you exist as your aura lulls him into a peacefulness he didn’t know that he could feel. Obito actually starts praying to you and he feels empowered whenever he does so as he likes to imagine that you bless him with the strength he needs to change this world. Soon he finds himself becoming addicted to your presence that fills him with such bliss and starts feeling stressed out when he can’t sense you. He likes to delude himself into thinking that both of you have suffered from the ignorance of the humans around you and that soon leads him to the conclusion that only you could ever understand him and he could only ever understand you. Whenever you show yourself to him, he’s talking like you are a frightened baby deer as he promises you revenge for the people who abandoned and forgot you and that he will never do as your former followers did. He will never allow anyone else to intrude in his little paradise where only him and you exist and longs for the day when you will finally allow him to show you the loyalty and love he feels for you.

Shisui Uchiha

🍂Religion can truly become a terrifying thing when it is used to oppress people. It is your cult that falls victim to Shisui on a mission as he is sent to the village they have temporarily settled down to enforce the laws of their own beliefs there. It is in the very temple they have been building by using the villagers as workers that Shisui has his first encounter with you. You have a heavy aura around you as you stare at him, as dignified and proud as a goddess standing for strength is meant to be even if your facial expression is a mellow one. Then there is Shisui, standing in the half-finished shrine of yours with the corpses of your followers lying around his feet. There is a thick silence where Shisui is silently preparing himself to be attacked by you yet he only receives a nod from you that almost looks like a sign of gratitude before you vanish. No one else has seen you yet he’s convinced that it wasn’t an illusion. Too troubled to leave the village without getting his confirmation that you were real, he steals necklace from one of your followers which is meant to help your followers to stay in contact with you.

🍂Visions and glimpses as fleeting as a shooting star haunt him from that day on and if anyone else but Shisui would have stolen the artifact, they would have probably lost their mind already. He knows exactly that he can’t tell anyone about your existence as they wouldn’t believe him and label him as a lunatic in the worst case. It’s like you are constantly observing him. Your presence is like a warm gentle rain that engulfs him constantly and the occasional brush of your hands against his skin a delicate sensation that has his whole body tingling. Until eventually Shisui finds his eyes constantly searching for you, an almost queasy feeling in his stomach when he can neither see nor sense you. You have given him your blessing and your protection after he has cleared your name of the traitors who have been abusing your image for such crude actions. Shisui wonders if you already know that his own strong feelings you have admired upon first meeting him have already been twisted because of you. He secretly builds you a small shrine where he also hides the necklace, well aware that they will tie you one way or another to his village.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡Itachi, despite his normally cold facade, is deep down also a deeply troubled person who is drowning in the sorrow of what he had to do to his own clan and family. Around you the silent ache gets soothed, even if it’ll never fully disappear. From the Uchiha clan Itachi is most likely one of the calmer ones and the one who will actually put the respect on you that you deserve without overwhelming you. He has enough on his mind already after all but he at times feels a tad bit honored that you decided to show yourself to him out of curiosity when you saw him passing through the forest with your shrine. Your presence is quite enjoyable and that isn’t only because you are a goddess of serenity and beauty but also because you could almost be mistaken as a normal human if it wouldn’t be for the halo around you. You don’t act like what he would have expected from a goddess of your caliber but instead you are curious, humble and get childishly excited when he brings you food because you normally don’t get such stuff in the realm where you live. Your curiosity about the most mundane stuff is sometimes downright amusing.

🍡As an Akatsuki member, Itachi is already put under a lot of isolation. He only has Kisame as a work partner and now there is also you with whom he can spend time with. Itachi really appreciates this. The fact that you have an entire cult at your disposal yet you only really show yourself to him flatters him more and more as time passes on. Even if he can’t see you, he can certainly sense you and even that is enough for him. It is quite ambiguous coming from him but despite the crimes that he has committed, Itachi has still morals. He got too comfortable with you, has allowed himself to delve too deep into those emotions and now he has no way out anymore. You two are so different. You are a celestial being that is essentially immortal and he is only human. He’s probably only going to be a fleeting moment in your life but his emotions has long left his control and act unreasonable. Despite applying all logic to his case, his own emotions don’t want to listen to him as they long to be with you. His determination to die at the hands of his brother waver greatly the longer he spends time with you, a gravity pulling him towards you.

Sasuke Uchiha

💙If Sasuke becomes fixated on a person, he is ready to go to great lengths and throw everything and everyone around him away to reach his goal. It applies to his desire for revenge as well as the intense obsession he develops that is centered around you. He has never believed in any celestial existence as the extermination of his entire clan has taught him that there is no such thing as a god protecting the people in his land. But your existence proves him otherwise. Even amidst his obsession, there is this burning bitterness and rage he holds against you though. Where has been your protection when his entire clan was eradicated? Why didn’t you do anything? There is pain even amongst his anger as he lashes out on you and blames you. He doesn’t care about the fact that you are a literal goddess. Your powers can’t be good for anything after all if you just allow the people in the Leaf Village to commit such a genocide. He wants answers, demands them, just to understand why it had to be his clan that had to suffer so much yet you can’t give him those answers. Instead there is a pitiful look on your face that almost drives him mad.

💙He hates how your mere presence always manages to drain all negative energy from him as he feels like his own emotions are controlled when he is around you yet it has never stopped him from approaching you. The grudge he holds against you and others of your kind for doing absolutely nothing to prevent the death of so many people. You probably think that you’re better just because you are a goddess, don’t you? Despite this, his anger almost seems to fuel his obsession with you. Sasuke yearns to have you, to be in possession of you and he is also steered by a desire to be in control of you. You are used to everyone being beneath you and as if to punish you for your ignorance about his own clan’s tragic fate, Sasuke wants to show you what it feels like to struggle and to experience helplessness. He doesn’t know just yet if he can beat you in a fight and he is wise enough to not underestimate you but he swears to you that one day he will gain enough power to keep you permanently by his side and to teach you not to pity him. And he’s getting stronger and stronger with each passing day…

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere indra #yandere indra otsutsuki #yandere madara #yandere madara uchiha #yandere obito #yandere obito uchiha #yandere shisui #yandere shisui uchiha #yandere itachi #yandere itachi uchiha #yandere sasuke #yandere sasuke uchiha

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sssardonian-ssserpent · 3 months

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((Am i the only one that feels like they missed a huge narrative opportunity with Sir Pentious’s death?

Like yes, it is fine and good that he became the first redeemed soul, I’ve since made my peace with that and can concede that it has a ton of interesting narrative potential and ways to forward the plot that they still hope they use him with in season 2, but the way they could’ve made his sacrifice into something that would’ve been a PERFECT way to hammer in the narrative of the show, and yet they turned it into a useless anti-climatic gag that ultimately wasted what they could’ve done with it.

Like, for example, it has been noted and discussed many times in the fandom that the final fight is all about love and compassion triumphing over senseless cruelty. This is seen with how Lucifer comes in to save Charlie when all hope is lost, with how Angel saves the Eggbois from an exorcist because he knows Sir Pentious cares for them, how Cherri is there to help Angel fight because they’re friends and how Husk fights to protect everyone because he’s grown too fond of everyone else to walk away. The only one who ultimately doesn’t fight for love and compassion is Alastor, who tries to fight Adam one to one out of little more than pure ego and spite. And what happens? He gets his fucking shit rocked, is nearly mortally wounded, and flees from the battle entirely to avoid death.

And, ultimately, this is seen in Pentious’s sacrifice, as he takes off in his ship to try and face down Adam because he recognizes that he’s the biggest threat to their defenses and that if he’s allowed to continue his rampage, everyone will die. Of course, we all know how that sacrifice goes; Pentious being instantly obliterated in a single blast by Adam before Pentious can do anything, in a comedically abrupt and anti-climatic gag to offset the seriousness of the moment. And while it was initially funny in the moment, I think it severely weakened the tone of the moment and, ultimately, as I will explain, ruined what could’ve been a grand and drastic moment, not only for Pentious, but for the hope and love Charlie inspired in him.

You see, the line Adam says directly afterward after killing Pentious is “that could’ve been ugly.” Which, to me, heavily implies that if Pentious had actually gotten off a shot, it probably would’ve done damage and actually hurt Adam, which might’ve helped turn the tide of the battle even before Lucifer had shown up.

So then I got to thinking, imagine if he HAD gotten the shot off? Imagine if he HAD actually wounded Adam?

Sir Pentious. A demon constantly craving recognition and attention, who was never able to get it. Someone who was always considered a useless weakling, a laughing stock, a desperate pathetic idiot who was better off dying than ever being able to be anything of worth in the eyes of most demons and Overlords in Hell, despite how hard he tried to become just as fearsome as them. A demon regarded as a nobody, unrecognizable and totally worthless and forgettable, in Alastor’s eyes, and in the V’s.

A demon everyone has looked down and regarded as weak, hurting the First Man, the leader of the Exorcists, wounding him, in a sacrificial effort to protect his friends. Hurting the most powerful Exorcist in Heaven, out of love for his friends, to protect them and save them from death, when Alastor, a selfish and sadistic egotist who didn’t care about anyone else, wasn’t able to put a scratch on him.

Imagine Pentious being able to hurt Adam more in a noble sacrifice to save his friends than Alastor of all demons, who was unable to when he was only fighting for himself. The poeticism in that. The rawness of that, in a story all about how love and compassion and kindness for others can triumph over the most senseless cruelty and hatred.

Imagine if the blast had gone off.

Imagine if it had caught Adam at the last second. Grazing a shoulder perhaps. Burning his wing. Sending him tumbling out of the sky.

He sends a holy blast up toward the ship, enraged by the fact that he got struck by such a lowly sinner, and the ship can’t get out of the way in time, and Pentious knows that.

One of the Eggbois is screaming and shouting about an incoming attack and how the ship is unable to evade.

And Pentious just slowly takes off his hat, and as the light of the holy beam begins to consume the room, he just goes “….I know.”

He dies, accepting his death, not fearing it, knowing that what he did may have been enough to save his friends.

Cut to the ship being instantly obliterated in a massive cacophonous explosion while everyone looks on in horror from the ground.

Wouldn’t that have made his sacrifice, and his consequent redemption in Heaven, so much more worth it? So much more heavy hitting?

Wouldn’t that have made it actually mean something? Instead of it being made into a joke?

#hazbin hotel spoilers #sir pentious

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shadesslut · 9 months

Text

loving her was red, pt 3

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Content Includes: Smut, drinking

Summary: As Ethan gets her back, he realizes how harder it's going to be to keep her safe.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

✮

Ethan had a plan. He was going to one, get Y/N back, and two, kill that motherfucker Chad. That night after Y/N ended things with Ethan, he started planning out strategies. He had multiple ways to try to get her back, but he was full of anxiety, afraid it wouldn’t work. He texted Anika and asked if everyone was still going to the party the next day, and to her knowledge she said yes. Now, at this point, he wanted to try and patch things up with Chad, regain his trust and friendship.

Chad was sat on the edge of his bed, slipping his old cowboy boots on. He sighed as he glanced at himself in his mirror. He was clad in a tan cowboy hat, an old faded red bandana that sat around his neck, and blue jeans. Normally, he would be confident in himself being shirtless, but after the event that happened the previous night, he wasn’t feeling so confident.

He sent a text to Mindy telling her he was on his way to pick her and Anika up. He huffed as he heard a knock on his door, standing up and swiftly opening the door. He was met with Ethan who had a nervous expression shown on his face.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Chad looked at him with a blank state. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Chad walked around him and headed into the kitchen, Ethan following behind. “Look, I get that you hate me and rightfully so,” Ethan started as Chad reached into the fridge for a beer. “I’m really sorry, and if it makes it any better I stopped seeing her.” Chad slammed the fridge door shut and twisted the lid off the bottle. He looked at Ethan as he took a swig.

“I care more about our friendship, Chad. I was an idiot.”

Chad nodded as he took another sip, which led to Ethan trying to hold back a smile.

“You’re my best friend. No girl is more important.” It was all lies, she was more important than Chad. She was more important than everything.

Chad leaned his back against the counter as he thought about what Ethan said. “You’re my best friend too,” Chad said. Ethan looked at him and smiled cheerfully.

“But, what you did was fucked up. You said you wouldn’t do anything, and literally right after, I walk in on your tongue shoved down her throat.”

Ethan looked down as he nodded. “You’re right, but when you told me about your crush, we were already seeing each other. I should’ve told you, I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Chad sighed at Ethan’s words. He blinked rapidly trying to make the tears go away. “You’re done with her? Even as friends?” He asked hopefully.

“I’m done with her. I won’t talk to her again.”

Chad solemnly smiled as he held his hand out to Ethan. Ethan took his hand and pulled him into a hug. “I missed you.” He said, patting Chad’s back.

Chad chuckled at him as he pulled away. “It’s been one day dude.”

Ethan laughed along with him, putting his hands in his pockets. “I know, but I had to play Valorant last night without you.”

The two laughed at Ethan’s words, like nothing even happened. Chad told him to go put his costume on so they could leave for the party, and as Ethan changed he thought of how dumb Chad was for forgiving him.

—

On the way to the party, Ethan noticed Mindy glancing at him the entire time. He brushed it off as Chad wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N said she and Tara just got there.” Anika said looking up from her phone. At the sound of her name, the two boys looked at each other awkwardly. Chad nodded at Anika.

As the group approached the frat house, Ethan felt giddy at the thought of seeing Y/N again. He could barely hear anything as the music grew louder further into the party. He stepped around intoxicated people as he followed Anika into the kitchen, hoping to lose Chad in the process. Anika poured two shots for the both of them, handing one to Ethan. “You know I don’t drink, Anika.” he said looking into the shot.

“Just loosen up, maybe it’ll get rid of your nerves. Then you can find a girlfriend.” she squealed, drawing out the ‘d’ in ‘girlfriend’.

He smiled embarrassedly and scrunched his nose. “I don’t need a girlfriend.” he stated as he forced himself to down the shot. Anika cheered at him and followed with downing her shot. “Where’s Y/N?”

Anika shrugged and looked around. “Somewhere,”

Ethan heard someone shout his name, and he whipped his head towards the sound. His face fell once he saw it was Tara. “Hey, Ethan,” she yelled once again. He nodded at her, stepping closer to her. She was wearing a cheap pirate costume, with a silky bandana on her head.

“Hi Tara, what’s up?” He answered.

She waved at someone briefly. who passed by before turning back to Ethan. “Y/N was talking about you earlier.”

Ethan’s eyes lit up at Tara. Of course she was talking about him; he knew that she cared about him more than just a casual hookup. This proved his theories, about her, she loved him, in the way he loved her. “I wouldn’t be smiling like that if I were you.”

Oh.

“W-Why?” Ethan stammered, now worried.

Tara rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “She said she wished you didn’t come, something about a fight with Chad.” Chad. He was the bane of Ethan’s existence. Oh, how he would love to plunge a knife deep in his chest.

“Oh, well, Chad and I are good now.”

“What happened?” she asked, smiling mischievously, leaning forward on her elbows that were resting on the counter. Ethan knew this look, Y/N did it all the time. Tara was trying to get him to fess up using her looks to her advantage; it almost worked on Ethan if he wasn’t so in love with Y/N.

He couldn’t even answer before Y/N came rushing in after Tara. She stumbled next to her tugging on her arm. “Tara! Jesus Christ, did you tell him?” she yelled drunkenly at her. Ethan’s eyes traced over her body as the two girls argued. She was wearing her Tiffany Valentine costume like she had said, but she didn’t go into detail about how much her dress hugged her curves. Her breasts looked like they were spilling out at the top, and her ass was basically out for everyone to see. His eyes trailed down her legs, where she wore black lace stockings. God, if he could, he would absolutely ravish her on the kitchen counter.

“You literally said you didn’t care if he knew.” Tara argued with her. Y/N rolled her eyes as she groaned at her friend. She hadn’t looked at Ethan once.

“Whatever,” Y/N said, reaching over for a bottle of liquor. Tara smiled playfully before walking away from the two, swinging her hips as she walked out. He looked back at Y/N, who was pouring the liquor in a shot glass, to the brim.

Ethan rushed to put his hands on hers. “Woah, woah, you should pace yourself.” He warned her. She jerked her hand away from him, and glared as she downed the whole shot. She winced slightly. “Can we talk?”

She shook her head as she began to pour another shot. He sighed as he watched her fill up the glass again. “Stop.” He said, grabbing at her hands again. She cursed at him as she tried to yank her hands away. His grip stayed strong on the glass, before she pulled really harshly on the glass. His fingers slipped on the glass causing her to pull it back towards her, spilling it on her dress. Her eyes watered as she looked up at him, then looked at her dress.

“Y/N…I’m, I’m so sorry,”

“You’re such a dick.” she yelled. She stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Ethan. He immediately chased after her, following her to a bathroom. She was wringing out her dress in her fists over the sink, softly crying. His eyes threatened to water as he stepped in and closed the door, locking it.

“Get out,” she whispered.

“No,” he argued. “I’m going to stay with you.”

She held her head down as she cried more. “Don’t cry, it’s just a dress. I can get you a thousand dresses.” Ethan comforted her.

“I don’t care about the stupid fucking dress.” she whined softly as he rubbed her back. “I care about you, and I don’t want to.”

Ethan looked in the mirror at her reflection with confusion. “W-What?”

She groaned as she stepped to the side and sat on the edge of the tub. She laid her head on her knees. Ethan stood still for a moment, thinking about what to do. He hesitantly sat down next to her as his head dropped looking at his shoes. “I never meant for myself to get to this point.”

“What point?” he asked softly. He turned his head towards her and leaned his knee over to touch hers.

“I want you. More than friends. More than…fuck-buddies or whatever we were.” she said, raising her head up from her knees. A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at him sadly. He slowly reached to take his cardboard helmet off. He held his hand up to her face to wipe away her tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I feel the same way.” Ethan said, gently stroking strands of her hair out of her face.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I can’t be with you…Chad.” She admitted.

Ethan had heard enough about Chad. Chad was the reason Ethan couldn’t be happy, and now he was the reason Y/N couldn’t be happy.

“What about Chad?” He asked.

“You know.”

He rolled his eyes away from her. He was tired of her worrying about Chad more than him, he was the one she should have been worried about. “I don’t care about Chad.” She looked away momentarily, like she was disappointed in him. Maybe he should have said something else

“I-I mean… He told me he was over you today.” Ethan spoke in a softer tone. “Maybe we can keep it a secret? Just in case?”

She inhaled deeply at the thought. “Maybe,” she thought out loud.

He looked at her with hope in his eyes. “Yeah?” He asked, hoping she would say yes. She looked at him, a small smile beginning to form. He scooched closer to her, hips and arms touching. He leaned his head down a bit and allowed his lips to hover slightly above hers. She looked down at his lips, and she leaned forward pressing her lips to his.

Ethan sighed with pleasure, his hands immediately finding their way to her body. He missed this, this felt good, it felt right. She was the one for him, and he was the one for her. Their lips moved against each other in a perfect synchronized motion. He pulled away from her to catch his breath, and he looked at her disheveled state. Her lips were plump and a redder color from moments ago.

He slid off the tub onto his knees, never breaking eye contact with her. She gasped as he put his hands on her knees, slowly widening her legs.

“Let me taste you, sweetheart,”

She nodded and allowed him to take off her stockings and panties. Ethan’s mouth opened when he saw her panties. They were a red lacy thong; he pocketed it for later.

He slid the bottom of her dress up to her hips. She hummed softly as he stuck his face in between her thighs. He looked up at her before looking back to her pussy. He licked a stripe along her, causing her to moan.

For a few minutes he licked and sucked, as if he was a starving man and she was a never-ending buffet. Her moans and the way she smelled started to make his pants feel tighter. He started focusing on her clit, harshly licking circles around it. She whined and grinded into his face, approaching her climax.

He stuck two fingers inside of her, instantly curling deep in her walls as he sucked her clit. He felt herself tighten around him, and he hastily reached down to undo his pants to jerk off.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” she moaned loudly, throwing her head back. Ethan groaned into her pussy as he rubbed his tip. His fingers and mouth kept doing their work as he came in his hand; he never lasted long while he was thinking about her. She whined and gasped as she came around him. A yell of his name caused him to moan with her.

–

As the two got dressed, Ethan watched her bending over to tie her shoes. He walked up behind her as she stood back up. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and kissed her neck.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing her neck up to her jawline.

She smiled at him and turned around to kiss him softly. “So are you,”

They smiled at each other as they held each other in their arms. Ethan was finally happy. His plan worked. As long as he was careful around Chad, things would be okay. Maybe he didn’t have to kill Chad, maybe Chad would actually move on and find a sweet girl. Maybe everything would work out in the end. He got a text message, and he stepped away from her to look at his phone.

Fuck, he forgot about his sister.

He had been so preoccupied with her that he forgot his sister and father.

Quinn

Dad just finished, you have an alibi ?

9:30 pm

Ethan didn’t want to involve Y/N in his family’s fucked up plan. He wanted to take her away from everything and everyone, keep her safe. He knew tonight was the first step of his father’s plan, and he knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He looked over at her, who was fixing her hair in the mirror. He softly smiled at her and came up with a response. He couldn’t stop the chaos that was about to happen, but he knew he could keep her safe.

Ethan

You could say that.

9:32 pm

#ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry #ghostface x reader #jack champion

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