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m1ckeyb3rry · 23 days

Note

hii!! could i request for a kiyora jin fic?

── WICKED GAME

Synopsis: The first time you see him, Jin Kiyora spits blood at your feet. That is when you are sure you will love him.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kiyora x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: alcohol/hangovers, reader is drunk and at a party in the first part, mentions of drug use and smoking but NOT by reader or kiyora, blood and violence, sooo much swearing at one point, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…, kiyora is down to punch an mf at all times, he’s probably ooc (if it’s even possible for him to be ooc??), he is NOT bestie approved but like he’s actually a cutie i promise, open ending, implied to be a college au but there’s nothing scholarly or collegiate about it except for the party and the sports mentions, many liberties are taken with kiyora’s backstory and character alike

A/N: hiiii omg i’ve never written kiyora before!! i hope i kinda did him justice?? EEK LMAOAO okay also i wasn’t sure if you wanted me to go in a specific direction so i picked one at random and left it kinda (very) open ended so that way if you/anyone else likes it i can write a pt2 but if not it’s nbd!! it’s just that as you can see it’s already kinda long and i didn’t want to write a ton if people weren’t fucking w it yk 😭 ANYWAYS rambling aside i hope you enjoy!!

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

There is a man screaming at you. You know that he is screaming because his voice pierces the drunken haze settled over your mind, shame shooting through that spinning, floating sensation, and you know it is at you specifically because he is glaring and it’s not at your best friend or the other girl you came with, it’s at you and only you. He’s glaring and saying something over and over again, but all you can do is tilt your head at him.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he says. “Get the fuck out. Why the fuck are you still here?”

More of his sentences than not are just that word. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s unnecessarily angry. You try to think — what did you do? Your best friend places one hand on your arm, and you’re pretty sure she’s telling you it’s not worth it, that you all should just go, but your drink is still half-full and you want to finish it before you leave.

“Why are you mad?” you mumble, fascinated by the pinkness of the alcohol, the way it contrasts against the white plastic of your cup.

His eyes are open and wild, and before you know it he is reaching out for you. Your best friend pulls you back just in time, and she shrieks for help as his fingers close around nothing, but the music is loud and the crowd is thick and there’s no way anyone will hear her.

You’re still confused. The man is still angry. You try to recall the conversation you’ve had with him up until this point — well, it wasn’t really much of a conversation to begin with. What had even happened?

“He’s on something,” your best friend hisses in your ear as she ushers you through the crowd. “No way this is just a couple of beers talking. All you did was ask him if his watch was real, and he totally flipped out.”

Right, that does sound familiar. You giggle as she shoves you outside, because it’s altogether hilarious. The other girl is hanging onto your best friend’s other arm and whining about how you had to leave the party early, and your best friend’s face is pale, her hair sticking to her forehead, but you’re not thinking about any of that. At least, it’s not at the forefront of your mind; instead, you’re wondering why that man has followed the three of you.

“I’m going to call the cops if you don’t leave!” he says, and it’s all you can do to lurch backwards as he stops on the porch. He’s intimidating, you can see that better in the light, and even though you’re more lost than anything, you’re pretty sure you should be afraid, too.

“Is this even your house?” you say sleepily. “Won’t the cops shut down your party first?”

It’s not his party or his house. You know that because the person who threw it is the one who invited you and your friends, but for some reason, this man is dead-set on the fact that you are some kind of intruder.

“The only ones that’ll be getting in trouble if the cops come are you guys, for fucking trespassing,” he snaps. “You’re not invited here!”

“We are,” you say. “Wanna see?”

You’re about to pull out your phone, but your best friend slaps your hand and shakes her head. The man is flushed now, and slowly, you put the phone back in your pocket, pursing your lips and avoiding his gaze.

“I’m serious. Don’t make me say it again, you fucking—”

“Woah, dude. Didn’t know that was your new thing,” a new voice says. You don’t recognize the speaker, but you can tell that he’s pretty, with dark hair and dark eyes that shimmer in the flickering porch light. He’s sitting on the porch swing, his feet kicked up on the railing, and there’s an unlit cigarette in his hands. When he notices you staring at it, he shrugs and flicks it to the ground. “It’s not mine. Some girl asked if I wanted it and left before I could say no.”

“Kiyora,” the man sneers. His attention has been diverted entirely, and the newcomer — Kiyora — stands casually, lazily. He’s slouching, but you can tell despite his posture that he’s a slip of a person, with needle-like features and a scowl that somehow resembles a grin.

“Sup,” he says. “You into bothering girls now?”

“Stay out of this,” the man says. “You weren’t invited, either.”

“Eh,” Kiyora says. “I don’t need an invitation.”

“I’m being serious,” he said. “You don’t get what a fucking bitch she is.”

Kiyora glances over at you, and it’s like he’s weighing his options. And although it would be just as easy for you to run — it’s what your best friend is urging you to do, it’s what you should do — you can’t help but wait. You can’t help but want to know what he’ll decide.

“Y/N,” your best friend pleads. “Come on, let’s just go while we can.”

“I want another drink,” the other girl says. “Just one more shot? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“No more shots tonight,” your best friend says. “Y/N, I’m being serious.”

That’s when Kiyora smiles slightly, and then he’s drawing his fist back and punching the man. Your best friend gasps, and even the other girl yelps, but you are enthralled by it. The man howls, and then he’s charging at Kiyora and they’re falling down the porch stairs and it’s a whirlwind of blows and shouts and cursing as they rip up the grass of the front yard with the fury of their spat.

It’s over almost as soon as it begins. The man’s collar is clenched in one of Kiyora’s fists, and his eyes are glimmering with tears at the way Kiyora looms over him, the other fist prepared to hit him again. The hollows of the man’s face are all blue and bruised, and he slaps lightly against Kiyora’s forearm in surrender. Kiyora gives him a measured look that’s somehow mocking, and then he lets him go. He stays on the ground, lying prone and motionless, and your best friend — she’s always been so empathetic, even though hardly anyone ever deserves it — tells the other girl to sit and wait before she rushes inside to alert the owner of the house.

“There we go,” Kiyora says, dusting himself off and springing to his feet, rolling his shoulders like he’s waking up from a long nap. “What a wimp. Can’t be talking that kind of shit if you don’t even have the skills to back it up.”

“You stood up for me,” you say. “Thank you.”

He raises his eyebrows, and then he makes a face. You realize he’s not escaped unscathed at the exact moment that he spits a mouthful of blood into the grass before you, his lower lip shiny and split, the same angry color as the crimson in the grass. You gaze at the way it dissolves into the dirt, and then you step over it, meaning to embrace him but mostly just collapsing into his arms. He catches you by reflex, not out of desire, and then he snorts.

“It’s not like I really did it for you, so don’t thank me,” he says. His nose is bleeding, too. You’re sure of it, because something warm dribbles onto your shirt, the stain blooming like rust against the lacy left strap. It’s a white top, thin and deep in the front, and it’s one of your favorites, but shockingly, you’re not angry that it’s been ruined.

“Why’d you do it, then?” you say.

“Couldn’t tell you,” he says. “I guess I just thought that your side was the right one to pick this time.”

To you, it sounds like the same thing, but it must’ve meant something different, because he sounds incredibly sure of himself. You hum in agreement, and then Kiyora nudges you off of him, motioning over to where the other girl — she’s your best friend’s new roommate, and you think her name might start with a C, but you can’t really recall — is sitting on the curb alone.

“Go sit with your friend,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, though you pause before you can join her. “Wait. Is your name Kiyora?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Y/N,” you say. “I’m Y/N.”

“’Kay,” he says. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Nice to meet you, Kiyora.”

He finds this funny, chuckling as you stumble over to the curb, sitting next to the girl, who’s texting someone with a big red x in their contact name. That probably means she shouldn’t be talking to them, but all you do is lean your head against her shoulder. You’re not the type to reprimand anyone, not when you’re like this. Maybe a few drinks or a few hours earlier, you would’ve said something, but at the moment, your mind is preoccupied with your newest fixation.

Your best friend comes out with the owner of the house, and then she makes a beeline for where you are sitting. Helping you to your feet, she drags you back in the direction of her apartment, plucking her roommate’s phone out of her hands and ignoring her arguments, instead turning to you.

“What the hell happened to your shirt?” she says. “Did that — did they hurt you too? Are you okay?”

“What?” you say. “No, I’m fine. Hey, listen. I want him.”

“Want who?” she says.

“Kiyora,” you say.

“The dude who beat that other guy up?” she says. You nod. Her brows knit together, and she shakes her head. “You need to sober up.”

“I’ll still want him when I’m sober,” you say.

“Then you’re sick in the head,” she says. “But I guess that’s nothing new.”

The next morning, you wake up on your best friend’s couch. Your makeup is blurred and messy on your face, the remnants of your mascara forming dark shadows under your eyes, and your clothes are rumpled. You are close to throwing up, and your head is pounding, so you trudge over to the bathroom, which is thankfully empty.

In the mirror, things look even worse. Your once-white shirt has remnants of your drink splashed on the front, and the left strap is a flaky sanguine, the color bleeding into the place where your heart beats behind your breast. It’s frightening at first, but dimly, you remember that the blood is not your own. It nearly could’ve been, but it isn’t, because you were saved. Someone took your side, and he saved you, and it’s his blood that you’re covered in.

“Damn.” It’s your best friend’s other roommate, the one who didn’t go out with you three last night. You don’t remember her name, either, or maybe she just never introduced herself. “What kind of night did you have?”

“Not my best,” you admit with a yawn.

“Yeah, no shit,” she says, going to the other sink and running her toothbrush under the water. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you say, because anything more makes the knife in your head twist more and more. “Just need a shower. Some dude freaked out on us last night.”

“Is that what happened?” she says. “D’you need a doctor or something?”

“It’s not mine,” you say. “Some other guy fought him off for me. His nose bled all over my shoulder when I tried hugging him afterwards.”

“What a hero,” she says, running a washcloth along her face. “Was he cute?”

“Does that matter?” you say. She winks at you in the mirror.

“Obviously. If he’s good-looking, you should try to find him and thank him while you’re sober. If he’s not, then you can just let it go,” she says.

“Yeah, he was cute,” you say after thinking about it for a moment. “I’m pretty sure I liked him. Last night, I mean.”

“Yeah?” she says. “Did you get a name or some other way to contact him?”

“Uh, his name is Kiyora, I think,” you say.

“Kiyora?” she says. “What does he look like?”

“He’s not that tall,” you say. “Dark hair. Pretty eyes, though I can’t quite remember what color they were.”

“I can’t say I know him,” she says. “Maybe you can try social media, though.”

“I think that might be my best bet,” you agree, taking off your shirt and tossing it to the ground, stepping out of your pants and reaching into the cabinet for a spare towel. “Do you mind if I just shower in here?”

“No worries, I’m almost done,” she says, squeezing sunscreen out of a small tube and massaging it into her cheeks. “You know how to work the shower?”

“Yup. Spent more nights here than I’d like to admit,” you said. The girl laughs at this, patting you on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. Better you’re here than with some random guy, though, right?” she says.

“Right,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Hope you can find him!” she says, and then she’s shutting the bathroom door behind her. You reach out and lock it before stripping fully, turning the faucet so that the water is as hot as you can bear and then sighing as it streams onto your face and body, rinsing off all of the proof of the previous night.

You kick your dirty clothes into a pile in the corner, wrapping a towel around your body and leaving the bathroom in a rush of steam. Your best friend is waiting in the kitchen, sipping coffee from a chipped mug, her hair in a messy bun and an untouched bowl of cereal in front of her. When she notices you, she smiles.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” you say, ducking into her bedroom and pulling on the clothes you’d left in her closet weeks ago for times like these.

“How are you today?” she says.

“I’ve been better,” you say. “But I’m alive.”

“Want breakfast?” she says.

“I might throw up if I eat,” you say.

“You’ll definitely throw up if you don’t. Just eat something light,” she says, gesturing in the direction of her pantry, as if to say take what you want.

You sit across from her, a random snack with bears on the packaging in one hand and your phone in the other. There’s a litany of unread text messages that you need to go through, so you squint your eyes against the glare of the screen and begin to read them.

Most of them are just people from the party asking you if you’re doing alright, since to their knowledge you left abruptly and without explanation. There’s one from your own roommate, asking you if you’ve watered the plants on the balcony in the past few days or not. You give one-or-two word answers to the majority, but there’s one message that catches your eye.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m really sorry about last night — apparently that guy brought a whole cocktail of drugs with him, and that’s why he went all crazy. I hope you’re okay, and that you don’t think badly of me now.’

There’s a crying emoji followed by a praying one. It’s the guy who invited you and your best friend to the party; ordinarily, you would’ve blocked him, but now you need his help, so, with a frown, you type out your response.

‘Honestly, it was pretty scary, but luckily that other guy was there, so nothing too awful happened. Speaking of which, do you know anything about him?’

There’s a pause that you can only imagine is him typing out his response, and then your darkening phone screen lights up with a notification.

‘Kiyora? He’s on the soccer team with a couple of my other friends. He’s not really close with any of them, but he’ll show up to our parties every now and again if they let him know where the address is. He’s kind of weird, but I guess it’s a good thing he happened to be there last night.’

‘Hm.’

‘His first name’s Jin, and apparently he’s addicted to grape candy — everyone makes fun of him for it. That’s about all I know.’

‘Thanks anyways.’

‘Anytime! Hope to see you at another party :)’

You consider blocking him now that you’ve gotten everything you can out of him, but there’s no point, so you just turn your phone off without responding, laying it face-down so you can ignore whoever else tries to reach out to you. Your best friend finally takes a bite of her cereal; you don’t know if she’s inspired by you or if she’s finally finished with her coffee. When you look over at her mug, you find it’s the latter.

“How much do you remember?” she asks you.

“Enough,” you say. “I’m going to find him.”

“Kiyora?” she says. When you nod, she can only pinch the bridge of her nose. “I should’ve known.”

“What do you have against him? He helped us out,” you say.

“Besides the fact that he beat that guy’s face into a pulp?” she says.

“That guy would’ve done the same to me,” you say.

“Not if you had just left when I told you to,” she reminds you. You can’t rebut this, and she knows it, because she tries her level best to avoid sounding condescending in the ensuing statement. “That’s the kind of person that you’re supposed to avoid, you know.”

“We don’t know anything about him,” you say. “We can’t judge him based on one night, especially given the circumstances.”

“That’s true,” she says. She’s like that, always quicker to give allowances than you are. You’re sure she’ll forgive him before he even realizes he’s done anything to forgive. “So, what, you just want to see what kind of person he is and go from there?”

“Basically,” you say, even though the more you mull it over, the more you’re convinced that there’s not really much that’ll change your mind. She wipes at a droplet of milk that lingers on the corner of her mouth, and then she exhales heavily.

“Yeah, alright,” she says. “I don’t think anything I say is going to stop you, so why bother?”

“You know me so well,” you say. “Want anything from the convenience store? I need to get some aspirin. My head is killing me.”

“Mine, too,” she says with a groan. “Can you get a pack for me? I think we’re out.”

“Sure,” you say, slinging your purse over your shoulder and shoving your feet in a pair of slippers. You’re pretty sure you look horrible, all lumpy and formless in an outfit that’s about two sizes too large for you, but you can’t be bothered to change, and at least you’re clean, which is more than you could say an hour ago. Waving at your best friend, you leave her apartment, careful to shut the door slowly, so as not to wake up her final roommate, who is still sleeping soundly. You envy her a bit, but then again, if you had woken up any later, you’d have had to add grogginess to your list of complaints, so maybe it’s for the best.

The convenience store is fairly empty. There’s a cashier dozing off by the checkout station, and a television showing the security footage — you stop and wave at your reflection, as you always do — but other than that, you’re the only one in the building.

As you’re browsing through the medicine section, weighing the merits of buying the generic version or if you should just get the name-brand, there is the swooshing sound of the automatic doors sliding open. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, so you pick up two boxes of the generic kind and make your way to the cashier, but then you freeze, because the figure which has slipped into the candy section is one you wouldn’t normally pay attention to but has suddenly become one you are particularly concerned with.

“Kiyora!” you hiss, ducking into the candy aisle. To your delight, he spins around at once, and he looks much the same as you remembered him from the previous night, which means it really is him. A violet mark stands out angrily against the paleness of his cheek, and his lower lip is still a bit swollen, but he wears it well, like some kind of badge of honor.

At first, he narrows his eyes at you, but then they light up with recognition, and he smiles imperceptibly. It’s barely there, barely enough to be qualified as a smile in the first place, yet you know that that’s what it is.

“Hey,” he says. “Hangover hitting you bad?”

He’s talking about the medicine in your hands. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Pretty much,” you say. “What about you?”

“I didn’t drink last night,” he says. “It’s bad for your body, and I’m supposed to maintain mine. Top athlete and all, you know how it is.”

This is accompanied by a subtle roll of his eyes, and you snicker at his impudence.

“Naturally,” you say. “But I was referring more to, ah…that.”

You don’t really know a more graceful way to refer to it, but he seems to pick up on what you’re talking about.

“I’ve had worse,” he says. “He really was all bark and no bite. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Still, thank you again,” you say.

“Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t for you? Don’t say thanks. It’s embarrassing,” he says.

“On my part or yours?” you say.

“Both,” he says.

“Alright, sorry,” you say. “But wait. What do you mean, you’ve had worse?”

“I dabbled in boxing for a while,” he says.

“You played two affiliated sports at once?” you say. “That’s impressive.”

“Well, one of them wasn’t affiliated,” he says, stooping over and picking up a box of grape candy — of course, he was reputedly obsessed with it, so you shouldn’t have been surprised by his presence in the convenience store at all. “I guess a better name would be street fighting. My older brother got into it after he didn’t cut it as a soccer player, and he convinced me to try it out for a bit. It was good money.”

“That’s cool,” you say, somewhat at a loss for words, finding it all too easy to imagine him in that kind of situation.

“Lame as hell, actually,” he says. “I’m better at soccer, anyways.”

He says it so nonchalantly that you have to laugh. He’s taken aback, and he doesn’t laugh along with you, but he’s clearly not upset, because that same not-smile remains on his face.

“That’s good to hear,” you say. “I don’t know if my best friend would approve of me talking to an underground street fighter.”

“You can safely tell her I’m reformed,” he says. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“You remembered?” you say.

“I told you I didn’t drink last night. Why would I forget?” he says.

“That’s true,” you say. “Yeah. Y/N.”

“Got any reason to be talking to me against your best friend’s wishes, Y/N?” he says, walking by your side towards the cashier. The way your name sounds coming from him is different. He says it like it’s the final piece to a game that he’s been wanting to play, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but if it’s the latter, then it’s too late. Somehow, he’s made it so that this game is one you want to play, too, or maybe it’s that you’re playing it already, have been playing it since before you even knew of its existence.

“I guess our ideas of what’s in my best interests just don’t align,” you say.

“Is that so? What does she believe to be in your best interests?” he says.

“Staying away from you,” you say.

“And you?” he says.

“The opposite,” you say, swiping your credit card and putting the twin boxes of medicine into the wide front pocket of your sweatshirt. He does the same, opening the box of grape candy and popping a piece into his mouth. You notice that he does not offer you one, but you weren’t hoping he would, so you’re not disappointed or anything. Just amused.

“Interesting,” he says. “What about me makes you sure that being around me is in your best interests?”

“I’m sure my chances of getting hurt will be a lot less, for one,” you say.

“Not necessarily,” he says. “Maybe I won’t take your side one day. Maybe I’ll be the one to hurt you. Then what happens?”

“Hm,” you say. It’s such a bizarre thing to say to someone who you’ve only met one-and-a-half times — the meeting last night only counts for half, considering how out of your mind you were — but he does it with a straight face, like it’s a serious dilemma. “I don’t think you’d do that.”

“You don’t?” he says.

“Nah,” you say. “I’d never provoke you into fighting me.”

“How can you be sure of that?” he says. You tear open the aspirin’s cardboard packaging, swallowing the pill dry and praying it works quickly. It catches in your throat, so you swallow again in an attempt to dislodge it. Kiyora watches you, and once you are successful in the endeavor, he silently hands you a piece of grape candy.

“People tell me I’m easy to get along with,” you say. The candy is sour and sparkles in your mouth; you do your best to savor the taste, but it’s gone as soon as you’re aware of it, melting away into air on your tongue.

“That guy from last night didn’t seem to think so,” he points out.

“He was mad that I asked if his watch was real. Normal people wouldn’t care about that,” you say. “I doubt you would.”

“I guess I wouldn’t,” he says. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you say, though you don’t quite know what you’re agreeing to. He gives you another piece of candy, and then he actually smiles; the tip of his tongue is purple, too, just like that bruise of his. You wonder if yours will turn the same shade, and then you accept the candy regardless. It’s kind of delightful, the thought of matching with him in that secret way.

“You’re kind of funny, Y/N,” he says.

“I do my best,” you say. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“You’re probably the only person who thinks that,” he says.

“Then maybe the others are missing out,” you say. He glances at the ground, but you think he seems happy, not upset.

“Maybe,” he says.

“Anyways, I should probably get back,” you say, because you’ve reached the intersection where you have to turn right, and it seems he has every intention of going straight. “But I can see you again, right?”

He cocks his head at you, and then, magically, he produces a pen from the pocket of his sweatpants, which are of that infuriating depth that supposedly only men deserve. Scribbling something on the box of grape candy, he presses it in your hand.

“Later,” he says, because the light has changed and he has to cross the street now. You watch him go, and then you peer at the small box. His handwriting is cramped and spiky, but you can make it out without too much trouble.

The box is empty, devoid of anything sweet, but he’s given you a much greater treasure, so you hold it close to your heart as you scurry to your best friend’s apartment, trying to fight back the grin that threatens to split your face the entire way back.

“So, let me get this straight — he gave you his phone number?” your best friend says. She had showered in the time you spent at the convenience store, and now that she has an aspirin in her system and moisturizer on her face, she looks like an entirely different person, a brighter and more cheerful one who isn’t going to judge you for whatever you say next.

“Yes,” you say, incredibly focused on creating a new contact for Kiyora. “That’s a good sign, right?”

“Depends on who you’re asking,” she says.

“Me,” you say.

“Then yeah, I’d say so,” she says. “He’s obviously into you.”

“I hope so,” you say.

“Who wouldn’t be?” she says. “You know what this means, right? It’s time for us to do reconnaissance.”

You grin, because you know exactly what that means. She pulls out her tablet and opens it to a random social media site, and so begins your investigation into the enigma that is Jin Kiyora.

“What the fuck?” you say. The two of you have been working for longer than you’d like to admit, yet you’ve learned frighteningly little about him. He plays soccer, and he seems to be quite good at it, given the few blurry highlights you managed to dredge up from his high school days. He has two brothers, both of whom post a ton but never about him. He once made the news in his hometown for breaking the mayor’s son’s nose — your best friend clicks her tongue at that, but you are sure he had a reason for doing it, so you remain unfazed. Otherwise, though, there’s nothing. He’s inactive on social media, which makes you doubly glad that you ran into him earlier, and if he has friends, then none of them seem to want to make that information public.

“It’s like he doesn’t exist,” your best friend says. “Honestly, I kind of fuck with it.”

“That’s a change of tune,” you say. She hums, typing something into her tablet and then shaking her head when the search results come up empty.

“Well, you know. It’s always nice when a man isn’t active online. Although, then again, in this case it could be because he doesn’t want a digital footprint that incriminates him or something,” she says.

“He’s not a criminal,” you say. She taps her finger against the article about him breaking the mayor’s son’s nose, and you cringe. “Okay, but he wasn’t arrested for that, so I’m technically still right.”

“Uh, sure, but this is the second account we have of him getting in a fight. Who knows? Maybe it’s like a hobby for him,” she says. At that moment, you decide to omit the fact that it actually was a hobby for him until an indeterminate amount of time ago.

“We don’t know why he did it,” you say. “Maybe the mayor’s kid was a bully. The guy last night definitely was. Come on, you can’t say you’re not at least a little grateful to him for stepping in and sticking up for us.”

He has insisted twice now that he didn’t do it for you, but you’ll take anything that endears him to your best friend, so you don’t mention that, either.

“That whole situation was terrifying,” she says, hugging herself tightly. “For one, it was scary that that guy flipped out on you, but it’s not like seeing Kiyora beat him up was particularly soothing.”

“You’re nicer than me by far,” you say, for probably the thousandth time. “I found it pretty gratifying to watch. I mean, he had no trouble threatening us; why shouldn’t he have had to back up his words with action? Obviously, he wasn’t expecting us to be able to fight back, so he ran his mouth to his heart’s content, but he had the misfortune of doing it in front of the wrong person, and he got what was coming for him. That’s his fault. So, in a sense, what Kiyora did was just a form of justice.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” she says. “I still kinda feel bad for the other guy, considering he definitely wasn’t in his senses, and after all Kiyora did punch him first, but it was a tense atmosphere. Who knows how another person might’ve reacted? It’s wrong to judge when things were so precarious and prone to snapping at any second. Of course, what he did wasn’t perfect, but you can’t really expect perfection from anyone, can you?”

Again, she’s better than you. You don’t know if you will ever feel bad for the man from last night, or if you could ever forgive someone as quickly as she has forgiven Kiyora. But if you count all of the times she’s proven to be the gentler of you two, it’ll take you ages, so you just add this occasion to the list and internally celebrate your good fortune.

“I’m going to text him,” you say, showing her your phone screen.

“What are you going to say?” she says.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Maybe hi, to start?”

“Make sure you add your name, since he doesn’t have your number,” she says.

“Oh, good idea,” you say, typing out your initial message and handing it to her so she can proofread it. She nods, and you hit send, a pit forming in your stomach as you wait for a text back.

‘Hi! This is Y/N from earlier!’

It’s almost immediate, his response, and you high-five your best friend when your phone vibrates, deciding to forget the whole play-it-cool advice that’s so predominant online and opening it immediately.

‘Hi Y/N.’

A second later, there’s another buzz, and another text. You laugh when you see it, because it’s very tongue-in-cheek and already, you can imagine the kind of expression that he’s wearing as he’s typing, although you hardly know him.

‘This is Kiyora btw.’

“He’s not afraid to joke around,” your best friend says, reading over your shoulder. “That’s a good sign. Imagine he was super dry and boring over text. You’d have to ghost him.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “What should I say now?”

Before she can respond, he’s sent another text. This earns a round of applause and a whoop from her, albeit a quiet one, since the roommate you went out with last night is somehow still asleep.

“Triple text!” she says. “This is great! Ah, I mean. It’s great if you still want him.”

“Of course I do,” I say, heat rising in my face as I realize what’s he’s just asked me.

‘So. Are you free next Saturday?’

The restaurant Kiyora tells you to meet him at is the opposite of fancy. You almost mistake it for a gas station, because it’s right next to one and located at random on the side of the road, but luckily you stop the car in time and manage to pull into the parking lot. You’re a little overdressed, but at least you’ll make a good impression, or so you hope, because the last few times you’ve seen him haven’t exactly shown off your greatest assets.

He’s already inside, though he hasn’t sat at a table yet and you’re ten minutes early. The place is almost empty save for him and a few employees, and the lights are a harsh, fluorescent white that throws his features into greater relief, but the effect’s a little angelic. A bell chimes to announce your entrance, and he glances over his shoulder, his furrowed brow relaxing when he sees that it’s you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you say. A cheesy ballad from either the late 80s or the early 90s plays from the radio at the counter, and a ceiling fan whirs in the background, but it’s otherwise pretty quiet.

“It’s my uncle’s place,” he says, leading you to a table without waiting for the hostess — a girl of probably about sixteen or seventeen, who’s playing on her phone and doesn’t look up at either of you — to do anything. “Got him to close early for the night so it’s just us.”

“Oh, wow,” you say. “Thank you. That’s actually really sweet.”

He hands you a menu. “I don’t like being around that many people. It’s a little claustrophobic.”

“I get it,” you say. “I think every time I’ve ended up in a big crowd, it’s ended kinda badly for me, so it’s nice to not have to worry about that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he says. For a moment, neither of you say anything, though probably for different reasons — he’s busy reading a menu, and you’re trying to think of a way to bring up his past grievances, especially the ones of the punching-a-mayor’s-son variety, without sounding like a stalker.

“What made you quit street fighting?” you say.

“Do you want appetizers?” he says, at exactly the same time. Then he pauses, your question registering. “Oh.”

“Appetizers are good,” you say.

“It was just too much,” he says. “I don’t know. I never liked it. I only stayed because I got paid well, but it became more trouble than it was worth.”

“What’s that mean?” you say. He’s obviously a bit uncomfortable with the line of questioning, squirming in his seat, but your best friend is right. That’s the kind of thing you should probably know about him before you let yourself get any deeper.

“The mayor’s jackass son started showing up, placing bets and all. He was a real dick,” he begins. You’re surprised that you’ve ended up at your end goal already; you were sure it’d take a bit more prodding until you reached the heart of the story, but it seems you’ve chanced upon it without even trying. He rolls his eyes and scoffs as he continues. “One time he asked if he could try fighting himself. Picked me as his opponent because I was the shortest and, therefore, the weakest. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you say, though not without a snicker, because from what you know of him, you doubt he could be considered the weakest in any company. “Then what?”

“Then I did the world a favor and broke his ugly fucking nose so he had an excuse to fix it, that’s what,” he says. “His dad wasn’t too happy.”

“That’s to be expected,” you say.

“Yup. After that, he told me I had to get my act together or there would be real disciplinary consequences, so I gave it up and focused everything I had on soccer instead,” he says.

“I’m glad,” you say.

“Are you?” he says.

“You probably don’t get hurt quite as much playing soccer,” you say. “Even though it’s possible to get injured, it’s not as common.”

“True,” he says. “Most players are just faking it, anyways, so it’s definitely not common in the slightest.”

“Well, that’s all. I think it’s better that you don’t get hurt,” you say. “I don’t want you to. So stick with soccer.”

His lips form a thin, hard line, but there are dimples in his cheeks that make it obvious what he’s trying to suppress. Clearing his throat, he reopens his menu and points at one of the appetizers.

“Is this one alright with you?” he asks.

You’re looking at him when you answer, not the menu. Whatever it is, you’ll eat it, or if it’s really horrible, you’ll leave it for him. You’d rather spend that precious second admiring his features when he’s unaware of your gaze. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes flick up to meet your own, and then, impossibly, a pale pink blush dusts across his nose and cheeks.

“I’ll tell my uncle that that’s what we want, then,” he says, standing up and darting off towards the kitchens without another word. He walks with a kind of intrinsic rhythm, like he’s dancing, though there’s nothing about his gait otherwise that suggests any sort of musicality. It’s fascinating. He’s fascinating.

You are certain, before he even returns, before you even eat, before you even part ways, that this will not be the last time you see him. At least you pray it won’t be, because you think you’re like a moth, and he’s like a flame, and there’s enough stories about moths and flames that you know how these things typically end, or at least you’re pretty sure you do. It doesn’t matter, though. None of it matters, because you��ve never been so utterly taken by anything the way you are with Jin Kiyora and his bruised face and his split knuckles and his grape-colored tongue.

There’s another thing you’re certain of now, or have been for a while: you don’t love him yet, of course you don’t, but you will. Inescapably, inevitably, you will.

#kiyora x reader #kiyora x y/n #kiyora x you #kiyora jin #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #college au #m1ckeyb3rry requests #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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writingseaslugs · 2 years

Text

Octavinelle: Is Eel/Octopus on the Menu?

This was a stupid idea bobbing around in my head for like a solid month, so here we go. A reader going to Mostro Lounge and asking if Eel/Octopus is on the menu, but in a flirting kinda way. This is also pre-relationship with them since I thought it would be far more hilarious if they weren’t going out yet.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post. Content Warning: Suggestive Themes, Floyd Leech

Is Eel/Octopus on the Menu?

You knew it was going to be the dumbest thing to possibly ask, but you were also aware that your mental and verbal filter had all but disappeared after your first few months at Night Raven College. So when you entered the Lounge and got your premium seating, courtesy of Octrio who loved to be able to bug you while you were there. You smiled, taking your seat and looking over the drink and food menu, just waiting.

You knew he’d come over in a moment. He always did. There was only one person allowed to take your order in this entire establishment, and you knew it was because he told everyone else not to talk to you when you were there. You smiled as the familiar footsteps approached your table and you looked up, only to see him. The object of your affections, and the person you hoped to either fluster or get a good laugh out of.

Azul Ashengrotto

“Good evening, Prefect, we weren’t expecting you tonight,” Azul said with a calm smile. It was true, normally when you were heading over, you shot him a message earlier in the day to let him know. Still, you wanted to be spontaneous, so throwing off the carefully put routine you had was part of that. You chuckled, putting the menu down and looking at him.

“Did you not want to see me tonight?” You asked with a fake pout on your lips. Azul was able to see through this little play of yours as he shot you a sly smile.

“It’s always a pleasure to have you with us,” he said before clearing his throat and grabbing his pad of paper. It wasn’t often Azul ever had to take orders, but when it came to you, he wouldn’t allow anyone else. Half the time, if he didn’t have a meeting, he’d join you for your meal as well. It was one of the few times you two could just sit and chat for an hour or two without worry about anything else. “What would you like tonight? The usual, or would you like to try the special of the day?”

“That depends, is octopus on the menu for tonight?” You asked, staring at him with a smirk. Azul was about to inform you that Takoyaki was only available on Friday evenings and that it was a Sunday afternoon, when your words were processed.

Azul had a slight dusting of red on his cheeks as he cleared his throat, putting on his business persona before it could be lost. He shot you a small grin. “You must think you’re very clever,” he commented and you chuckled.

“I think I am very clever, yes. So…is that on the menu?” You asked, staring him up and down. He shifted a bit in his spot, looking around to make sure nobody heard what you were saying. He was used to your occasional flirtatious remarks, but this was a bit different than the norm. He let out a sigh, looking over at you with a now disapproving look.

“Truly, you’re horrible, prefect.” He commented before clearing his throat once more, “If you’d like though, we can get it arranged…but it won’t be until later tonight. Shall I grab you something else in the meantime.” Now it was your turn to get a bit flustered. You didn’t think that would actually work, but you weren’t going to complain.

“I’ll just take the usual for now then…” You said and Azul couldn’t help but relish in your sudden awkwardness. He wrote down your normal order before turning around. He then stopped to look over at you, loving how your face seemed a bit warmer than when you walked in, a stark contrast to the cool air of the Lounge.

“I’ll have my business finished around nine tonight.” He said before disappearing to the kitchen. You looked at the clock, and how it read six. Just three more hours…you could last until then, right?

Jade Leech

Jade approached your table with his normal calm smile on his face, looking you over. You smiled happily, seeing your favorite eel. “Good evening, prefect, how are you doing this evening?” He started out, always one for casual conversation when you arrived. He probably already had his tables covered by someone else so he could focus on you. It was something you picked up after your fifth time visiting the Lounge. Normally it was Floyd who was running his tables, or some poor freshman who picked up the slack.

“I’m doing well, how about yourself?” You said looking around the Lounge. It was pretty quiet, judging by how it was the middle of the week, and you knew there was an exam in Trein’s class tomorrow. Most students were probably studying for it, or off doing who knows what else. Drinking in the Lounge was never a good idea the day before an exam, so only a few students participated.

“It’s been a rather calm evening.” He said before grabbing his pad of paper, “You know, tonight we have a mushroom risotto on the menu, I grew them myself so it has a rather pleasant taste compared to other places.” You smiled. You could feel the nerves building up, but you couldn’t let an opportunity like this be wasted. A calm day? At the Lounge? It rarely happened, and there were no students or staff anywhere near your table.

“That sounds good…but I was wondering…” You trailed off, as if in deep thought about something. Jade looked you over, curious as to what you were about to request, “Could I have a side of eel with that?” You finally said, feeling how your cheeks got a bit warmer at the blatant flirting. You couldn’t even look at Jade when you said it, so when you turned back you could see the normal polite smile on his face turned into a smirk.

“That’s a rather bold thing for you to ask, prefect.” Jade teased, making you shift a bit in your spot.

“Is that a yes, or a no?” You managed to murmur, the confidence you had minutes ago slowly fading away. Jade tapped on his chin and tilted his head, debating if he wanted to entertain this idea of yours.

“I’m sure I can get that arranged for you,” he said, making you perk up.

Did it work? Did your horrible pick-up line actually somehow work with him? You looked up at him with hopeful eyes and he oh-so-loved that expression you gave him. It was almost innocent, if not for the question you had asked moments ago. “In fact, my shift ends in about an hour…” he finished up.

“I guess it’ll be my dessert then.” You tried to play it off with a smile, but he could almost see the steam coming off your face.

“I guess it’ll have to be. Now let me get your order to the kitchen. I won’t keep you waiting.” With that, he turned around and left you to your own thoughts.

Floyd Leech

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd called out, sliding into the booth right next to you. His arm came around to give you a half squeeze while he nuzzled his face into your neck. You chuckled at his display of affection, loving how cute he could be at times. He always got like this around you, like a cuddly little cat. Sure, he sometimes decided to bite, but it was all worth it. You ran your hands through his hair, loving how soft and fluffy it was.

“Hey Floyd, it’s good to see you as well.” You chuckled, not bothering to take your hand away from his hair. He chuckled a bit more before sitting straight up and looking you over.

“Whatcha getting? Oh, should I surprise you for your meal?” Floyd suggested, “I can make it myself!” Oh how adorable this boy was. If only he weren’t so evil at times, you’d think he was just an overly attached puppy. Still, you could feel your heart hammering in your chest by his small displays of affection, as well as what you were planning on asking for.

“Actually, I had something in mind I’ve been wanting to try.” You said, “Of course, that’s if you guys carry it.” Floyd pouted at the thought of not being able to surprise you. Last time you had agreed with that, you got some very dubious looking food. It tasted amazing, sure, but you also had no idea what you were eating that night. Floyd had assured you that it wasn’t human though, which had made you choke on that meal and debate if you were going to finish it.

“Awe, fine. What did you want?” Floyd said, crossing his legs on the booth table as he waited for you.

“I was actually wondering…is eel on the menu tonight?” You finally manage to get out. Floyd froze as your words, seeing how your cheeks seemed to be burning. There was no mistaking that you weren’t asking him for actual eel. Then he grinned, and it sent a shiver right through your spine as he got closer to you. You were thankful that everyone in the restaurant had the knowledge to steer clear of your table whenever you and Floyd were there, unless they wanted to get dragged into something.

“So cute, but I don’t think we have that tonight.” He chuckled, making you frown, “But we do have a special going on tonight…” He trailed off, waiting for you to ask him what it was. You cleared your throat before asking just that.

“What’s the special?” You managed to get out.

“Glazed shrimp.” Now you were definitely overheating; Floyd laughed before grabbing your hand. You tried to ask what was going on, but you soon could see the hallway of Octavinelle, and just knew he was dragging you to his room. You were both happy that your flirt managed to work, but at the same time your heart was five seconds from giving out on you. Oh, how your night was taking an unexpected turn…which honestly was exactly what you’d expect with Floyd.

Beta Fishies: @epiphyllous

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Azul Ashengrotto #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Azul x Reader #Jade Leech #Jade Leech x Reader #Jade x Reader #Floyd Leech #Floyd Leech x Reader #Floyd x Reader

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wisteriaiswriting · 4 months

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Jumker Queen, Soldier 76, Lúcio and Ana getting hit on by a reader who's terrible at flirting. Extremely confident but bad at flirting

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕋𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝔽𝕝𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣

Words: 616

She actually finds your attempts hilarious.

Will genuinely laugh, snort and slap her legs every time you try.

Honestly believe you’re joking and will make plenty in return.

Absolutely loves your confidence though, you’re one of few people who can stay that confident around her.

***

Odessa didn’t hear or see you saunter up to her throne, but her ‘guards’ did. Not that tehy dared to stop you, not after last time. Anyways! She only looked up when she noticed your hand laying on the armrests, cracking a smile when she saw it was you.

“There's my friend!”

Not letting her get another word out before you tried your line,

“Are you a magnet? Because you sure are attracting me over here.”

Only to hear her snort, her braclet lighting up.

“What are ya, Gracie?”

“If I get to come back, then yeah.”

Jack isn’t as dense as some people believe he is.

But god damn are you terrible.

He really tries to shut you down but eventually gives up.

Is also a terrible flirter, which physically hurts anyone who dares to watch.

***

“Yo, Morrison!”

As you approached, and the others around, heard him groaning.

“What do you need?”

Leaning on the tabel, and in turn slightly over him.

“Let me tie your shoes. Because I don’t want you falling for anyone else.”

Even with his visor on and covering his eyes everyone knew the look he was giving you. Reaching one of his hands up to pull it off, now he was able to actually look you in the eyes. Not before looking down at his boots.

“I don’t have laces…”

He will laugh at every line you use.

Every time he tries not to or at least hide his giggles, but you are too adorable not to laugh at.

He’s clearly much smoother when it comes to flirting.

Offers to teach you some much better pick up lines.

***

Lúcio watched as you leaned against the wall, showing off that smile which radiated so much confidence. But he knew better, you looked so confident but god, nothing smart seemed to leave those lips.

“Hey Lucio~”

“Y/N, what's up?”

“If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

“Really, making fun of me being paralyzed?”

You paused, clearly thinking about every word he just said. Quickly realizing what he said.

“No! I mean, I didn’t–”

Cut off by him starting to laugh, hands rising to cover his mouth. Trying to look like he wasn’t laughing at your attempt at a pick up line.

“I know, I know,” When his laughter died down he placed a hand on your shoulder, “How about I teach you some… better pick up lines?”

Ana is another person who laughs at your flirting.

She finds every attempt you try cute.

But it’s in the way of how a baby animal does something cute yet stupid.

Won’t stop you, she’ll let you continue and kinda enables you.

***

It was a quiet morning, one that allowed you and Ana to enjoy some tea in silence. That was until you spoke up as she finished pouring the drink.

“Did ya know, I’m good at algebra. I can replace your (E)X and you wouldn’t need to figure out (Wh)Y.”

The next few seconds she just held her cup up, shutting her eyes quickly. Taking in a final breath before gently setting the cup back down, which was still full, so it quickly clicked that she wasn’t spending that time drinking.

“My my Y/N, aren’t you just a smooth talker~”

Watching as your smile grew at her praise, god, your flirting was terrible but it was too cute to stop listening too.

#overwatch x reader #overwatch x male reader #overwatch junker queen #overwatch junker queen x reader #junker queen x reader #overwatch soldier 76 #overwatch soldier 76 x reader #soldier 76 x reader #overwatch lucio #overwatch lucio x reader #lucio x reader #overwatch ana #overwatch ana x reader #ana x reader #wisteria♥

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roonilwazlibimagines · 8 months

Text

bitch - d.m x female!reader

Blurb: she changes the settings on draco's phone to change the word babe to bitch (kinda modern!au)

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: yeah i am obsessed with slytherin boys react on tik tok sue me but if you like this and want to see more of it lemme know :)).

Masterlist | i have a full imagine of draco being the annoying one and this is the same draco in my mind

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“I swear I was trying to say babe, I would never call you something like that, you know that right?”

“Just give it up, Draco, I know you were trying to be funny, but it wasn’t.” She pouted, hoping he would be able to hear it through the phone.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny!” She knew he was running a hand through his hair, making the tips flick up in a weird way that made her wish she was there to fix it.

“Your phone can’t just change the words you type.”

“Princess, I swear I will leave work right now just to show you.”

The issue was, she knew he would if she didn’t put it to rest and as much as she loved teasing him, she didn’t want to make such a fuss.

“Please say something.” She sighed at his words, pretending to think about the situation.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled out nervously.

“What? Why?”

“I thought it would be funny to change the settings on your phone and-”

“You did this?”

“Yes.” She bit the corner of her lip nervously.

“You’re the worst.”

She let out a small giggle as she said, “but I’m hilarious.”

“Debatable.” She could hear him sigh.

“So,” she hummed, dragging out the end of her word, “will you still pick me up tonight?”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I love you lots,” she blew a bunch of kisses into the microphone.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I love you too, see you tonight, babe.”

As soon as she opened the door she put her palm out flat.

“Give it to me?”

Draco laughed as he took his shoes off and made his way into her house.

“Give you what?” She scoffed as she stepped aside to let him in, moving her hands to her hips.

“Your phone.”

“Why?”

He moved over to the dining table, pulling a seat out to sit on it, noticing her bare feet and purse half empty resting next to him.

“So I can change it back,” she whined walking over to him and pouting.

“Change what back?” He was wearing a faux innocent look that made her roll her eyes, much to her boyfriend’s amusement.

“Draco,” she said, “I miss when you were begging for my forgiveness.”

“You know what I want to know?” He asked, ignoring her last statement and looking up at her as she raised an eyebrow, her fingers digging into the flesh on her hips. “How did you get my phone in the first place?”

She shrugged her shoulders, copying his innocent act. “I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t leave your phone on the bedside table when you shower.”

“Wow,” he chuckled, “too bad if I had something private on there.” He was trying to act offended but the way the corner of his lip quirked up told her otherwise.

She snorted, moving her hands to fold them across her chest. “What do you have to hide from me?”

“What if I was planning a surprise for you?” He retaliated knowing she had a point.

“For what?” There was no special event coming up for months and even if her boyfriend always made an effort for her, there was no way he was this organised.

“Just because I love you.”

She giggled, leaning down over him to press a soft kiss on his pretty lips.

“I love you too.”

When she pulled away she put her palm out flat again and this time Draco handed it over, sighing as he leant to his side to get the device out of his pocket.

“I assume you don’t need my password.” She rolled her eyes, as if he hadn’t proudly told her that his password was her birthday the second he changed it over.

She tapped furiously on his phone, feeling his gaze on her as she changed it back.

He shuffled to his side when she handed it back to him, a beaming smile gracing her pretty features.

“Alright, now finish getting ready, we have a reservation.”

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lemonluvgirl · 1 year

Text

Good

an everlark smutty drabble inspired by an anon prompt:

Post-MJ, Pre-Epilogue (after the night of “Real” maybe) and Everlark are becoming more intimate and open in the bedroom. Katniss finds out Peeta can be quite ~dominating~ in bed and Peeta discovers Katniss’ praise-kink (although she denies it sometimes)… I think you can see where this us going 😉 so kinda just dirtytalk!Peeta saying things like “Good girl” and Katniss is just “Yes, Peeta” and it just gets really, really HOT because after all, she is the girl on fire 😏🔥

since I was cleaning out my inbox today I decided to try and write this. NSFW themes ahead. Read with caution, and pay attention to the prompts specifications.

We discover it almost accidentally, lying in bed one afternoon atop the rumpled sheets, trying to catch our breath as the sweat dries on our naked skin.

“Where did you learn that?” I ask him turning my head to peer at him from across our bed.

He’s gloriously sweaty and flushed, his chest still rising and falling swiftly, his pink lips and over-kissed mouth hanging open and pulling in the air like a man winding down after running a mile.

He’s beautifully, perfectly undone, and best of all, he’s mine.

He turns to me, lazily, eyes dropping with tiredness and the leftover rush of pleasure that’s still humming through both our veins. He still has enough energy to smirk, though.

“Learn what?” He asks in a mock-innocent tone that makes me roll my eyes.

“You know what,” I say, with a little more grit in my voice because I actually want to know the answer and he’s being annoying. He chuckles in delight at the discomfort in my voice.

Peeta knows by now that while I’m very enthusiastic about our activities I still have trouble discussing certain things in blatant detail. He thinks it’s hilarious that after all this time and after all the things we’ve done together that I can still get flustered discussing sex with him.

“Oh, you mean the thing that made you scream?” He asks, trying to continue his innocent charade but the slight smug quality of his words ruins the intended effect.

I narrow my eyes at him in warning, but he doesn’t even blink.

“Or, was it that thing that made it impossible for you to speak at all?” He adds, lowering his voice and stretching out his hand to trail one lone fingertip down my ribs to my hip. The action makes me shiver with want, even though my body is still quietly pulsing with the aftereffects of his love.

“The second one,” I answer quietly, reaching out and twining my fingers with his, stopping his indulgent touches before things heat up between us again and I lose my train of thought.

He gives a quiet, “Hmmm,” in response and moves in closer. Then I’m gathered up in strong arms and my head is pillowed on a strong chest. I listen to the soft drumbeat beneath my ear and I relax into his embrace.

“I didn’t really learn it from anywhere or anyone. I just had a feeling you might like it.” He replies thoughtfully, all traces of teasing gone now.

“But how did you know I’d like it when you called me a—” I break off, unable to repeat the phrase for some reason.

Which is silly. Because there’s actually nothing outwardly crude or sexual about it. But the way Peeta had said it, and the way I had responded to it, was intensely erotic.

“A good girl?” Peeta offers, finishing my thought for me and I inhale sharply. My heart skips a beat and I feel myself involuntarily clench around nothing. I feel a blush creep up my neck.

Peeta’s arms tighten around me as if he knows how much his words affect me and when he speaks next it sounds deep and rumbly.

“Because you are, Katniss. You’re such a good girl.” His voice takes me back to a few minutes ago when we were joined and Peeta was moving in me with that perfect rhythm and his words vaulted me over the precipice and hurtled me to perfect ecstasy. I had loved it, and despite just having my hunger for him sated, I greedily, selfishly, wanted more.

“Peeta,” I plead, not fully knowing what to ask for. I have no idea if I want him to continue in this vein or stop.

“You’re so good, and so sweet, lying here naked in our bed, writhing and biting your lip to keep from asking for more, after I’ve already filled you to the brim.” His voice takes on a decidedly dirty edge and I know I’m already lost. There’s no way I can hold out when he gets like this.

I let out a strangled little moan and in the next second, he has us flipped, with him on top of me, hands holding my wrists above my head, as he spreads my knees with his own. He looks down between us, eyes dark and nostrils flaring.

“Look at you, still dripping with me but you want more, don’t you? Do you want me to fuck you again, sweetheart? Does my good girl need me to make her come again?” His warm breath ghosts first over my lips, then my throat, and collarbone, and the words are uttered against my skin like a secret before his lips close over a nipple and I cry out as he sucks.

“Yes! Peeta…please,” I beg and he lets go of my breast with a wet pop before releasing my wrists and slowly sliding down my body.

“Keep your hands up. You’re not allowed to touch until I tell you.” He commands and it sends a dark thrill through me. If people knew how much I liked this side of Peeta they might be surprised. I know a lot of people think of me as the dominant one in our relationship, but that’s because they don’t see us behind closed doors. When it's just us, all of the trappings fall away. And I’m free to admit that I need Peeta in this way. For me, it's not so much about submission as it is about freeing me from the burden of having to be in control all the time. That and I trust Peeta unlike anyone else. I know he will never abuse my trust or hurt me purposely.

We are so past that. And here in the privacy of our bedroom, the only thing that exists is me and him.

I nod frantically at him, eager all over for him, again. I don’t think I ever won’t be. It's been years since we became intimate like this, and I still get the same rush when I think about sleeping with him. He lets out a little growl and nips at my skin when I unconsciously start rocking my hips against him.

“Patience, sweetheart. All good girls know how to wait.” He tells me and our eyes lock. I’m practically panting for want of him, but I hold myself still. We both know what the other is thinking, what is needed.

There’s a magic in the way we fit together like this. Sure of ourselves and each other, neither of us questioning our love anymore. There’s only the heat of reassurance and desire that passes between us and curls in the air around us as we begin again.

His mouth moves over my hipbone, hot, wet, and fervent. His strong arms pin my legs apart, my knees kiss the mattress as he lowers his face down to peer at my center.

“So swollen and messy,” He says, a finger dipping in to play with the puddle of fluids seeping out of me. “So beautiful. You should always be like this. Full of my come. Begging for more.” He says with a sigh before swirling his fingers, gathering it, and then pushing it back in.

I whimper loudly, loving the feeling of him filling me up, even if it's just his fingers. I love his hands. I love his touch. I love him. Plain and simple.

“I love you,” I say out loud because I try to make a point of saying it whenever I can now. So that he always knows. So that he never has to question it again.

He peers up at me from between my obscenely spread legs. His pupils are so dilated, I can hardly see the thin sliver of blue iris.

“Love you too, sweetheart. I’m going to eat your pussy so good, you won’t be able to form a full sentence for hours.” He promises, pecking my clit with a soft, short kiss that sends electricity racing through me.

Then he starts to lick, softly, around my sensitive flesh, and down to where his fingers are pumping into me.

“Mmm, you still taste delicious, even mixed with my come.” He states between licks and all I can do is groan in reply.

I can feel his self-satisfied smile again on the skin of my inner thigh.

“What was that? I didn’t quite understand you, darling.” He teases before diving back in and flicking my clit with his tongue, not even giving my muddled brain a chance to try and form a response.

‘PEETA!” I scream as the orgasm washes over me, sharp and sweet, and sudden.

He laps up my release, holding down my shaking thighs and murmuring sweet little praises that I can’t make out because my ears are ringing.

Then I’m being flipped over again and he arranges me with strong, firm hands until I’m braced on my elbows, lower half lifted up and legs spread for his benefit as he situates himself behind me.

“Fuck, this ass. I’ve always loved it.” He says, one large palm cupping and kneading my cheek possessively as his other hand tilts my hips up.

He notches himself at my entrance but doesn’t sink in. Instead, he slides through my lower lips, coating himself carefully, even though I know he wants inside me. He’s fully hard again, and more than ready.

“Hands, sweetheart.” He says in a quiet, strained tone.

I know what he needs, so I carefully shift my weight from my forearms and link my hands behind my back, letting my forehead sink into the bed, my nose and mouth angled in such a way that I’ll be able to breathe even if he pounds me into the mattress.

“Good girl,” He whispers, and I whine pathetically, distressed at my own emptiness. I need him to fill me.

“Shhh, baby.” He coos, and then with one well-placed thrust, he sheathes himself up to the hilt.

My moan is swallowed up against the bedsheets, but Peeta’s grunt of pleasure rings out loud in the room and fills my ears, making me press back into him.

“Still so tight, after I ate you out, fucked you, and ate you out again. Perfect little pussy, just for me. Feels, so fucking good.” I hear him say, as he plunges in, moves his hips in a circle, pulls back, and plunges back in again.

I’m making noises, desperate little sounds that do nothing but spur him on to take me harder. It’s glorious. He feels amazing, even after all the pleasure he’s already given me. I know he’ll give me more. Because he’s so good. Because he’s my Peeta.

“Sweet girl, taking me so well. Taking my cock and letting me fuck you however I want. You’re so good Katniss. You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me. I always knew you would be.” He says, breathless and strained, his hips knocking against my bottom with the force of his thrusts.

“Yes!” I shout, and I can feel the way I tighten at his words, I can feel the way my body winds up and grows taught, waiting for release.

“I always knew it would be like this. Incredible. You, sweet and desperate. Begging for me. You’re so cool on the outside, but inside you’re pure heat. All fire. All mine.” His voice is rough and his thrusts take on a punishing edge, the kind he knows really gets me fired up.

I turn my mouth to the side, blowing stray hairs out of my face.

“Yours, Peeta. All yours. Forever.” I promise him and he moans, his fingers gripping my hips tightly enough to bruise.

His right hand loosens its grip and he brings it around my front to slide between my legs and rub small, firm circles around me.

I let out a broken, choked noise.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come on my cock. Be a good girl and come for me. Come on my cock and I’ll fill you up—”

His words, his beautiful, filthy words are what tip me over the edge.

I clench around him and come, sobbing his name, and clutching the sheets.

I hear him swearing behind me and feel his hips stuttering before he lets out a low groan and plunges as deep as he can.

Warmth pools inside me, with the ghost of my flutterings and the last of his twitching pulses, and we collapse, exhausted and much sweatier than the first time.

We can only rest a moment because Peeta is heavy on my back, and it's uncomfortable, but he rearranges us quickly enough until we can spread out comfortably.

“How was that, sweetheart? Was there anything you didn’t like that time?” He asks, quiet and inquisitive now.

I shake my head. Brushing my lips across his bicep, back and forth, wanting to kiss every inch of his skin in happiness, but my body is so tired and sated that all I can manage is this.

“I liked it all,” I reply as I move to get more comfortable.

He moves his arm under my head so I can use it as a pillow. One of his hands brushes a strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His brilliant blue eyes are searching mine for something more.

“It was good,” I tell him with a simplistic finality that makes him smile, and sleepily close his eyes in contentment.

“So good,” I repeat to myself as I close my eyes and drift off, warm, sleepy, and safe in the arms of my love.

#thg #everlark #fanfiction #lemonluvwrites #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #lemonluvanswers #the hunger games #everlark smut #sub/dom vibes #nothing too crazy

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miuszn · 1 year

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HII!! i love your writing sm, so i wanted to send in a request. I KNOW THIS IS SO CLICHÉ AND OVERDONE 😭😭 BUT could you possibly write a seven minutes in heaven scenario with ellie or abby. maybe reader n ellie/abby don’t really like each other, or they have tension ?? idk

seven minutes

SETTING : college / modern au

WC : 3120

WARNINGS : not beta read , fingering , cunnilingus ( r!recieving both ) , kinda vanilla again ( sorry ) , top!ellie , one-sided rivalry , intentional lowercase , this might kinda seem like dubcon but it’s not reader is just shy , english isn’t my first language and i’m not perfectly fluent so there might be mistakes ( lmk if there’s any )

A / N : hii everyone !! aaa im so glad i finally finished this 😭😭 i love these corny cliche scenarios soooo much but only when it’s w women otherwise it’s just so bleh . women do everything better so true !! anywhooo i hope u guys enjoy this and tysm for requesting this bc i wanted to write something like this but didnt think anyone would want it .. ALSO IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO INCLUDE ABBY WHEN I STARTED WRITING BC I SAVED THE ASK TO DRAFTS TO KEEP IT THERE N ONLY NOTICED NOW JFJDHDKDJ pls forgive me .. ill include ellie & abby tension over reader in the future i promise 🙏🙏

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“dina, i’m not going.”

you had no idea how many times you told her this, but you weren’t planning on changing your mind. you had gone to a few parties here and there, sure, but it wasn’t really your thing. you enjoyed going to them every once in a while to go out and loosen up, get your mind off of stress, but that was it. you weren't particularly crazy about it at the same level of other people your age, not even as much as dina, who’s considered a more casual partygoer. you had given her some excuse about having a project to work on, but the truth was, that wasn’t your concern. in fact, you didn’t have a project to work on at all. you made it all up. you even considered going to that party when dina first told you about it, but a few days later you overheard some classmates talk about how ellie williams out of all people would be going.

ellie ellie ellie. she drive you nuts for all the wrong reasons. you could tell she disliked you from the start, which that in itself made you dislike her as well. you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to anger her. but your dislike for her only grew when you realized just how irresponsible she was. she slept in, often came hungover to class, and yet she still scored the highest. even higher than you. and that really set you off. you had been an overachiever all your life, and all of a sudden some loser who doesn’t even put any effort into anything is beating you at everything. but most of all, it intrigued you a little more than it did anger you. you wished you could take a peek into her brain and see how the hell she managed to do it. your first thought was she copied answers off of people. seemed the most logical, right? but she was scoring the highest. how the hell could she score higher than anyone that she could even copy off of? hell, she even answered open-ended questions more detailed and well-written than you did. it didn’t make any sense. that’s the worst part of it all. you couldn’t even come up with a logical explanation as to how she could even do this.

little did you know, though, she was completely aware of your one-sided rivalry, and she found it adorable. she never tried to compete with you, but she thought it was hilarious watching you try so hard to compete with her. the first time she saw you, she was immediately drawn to you. your spotless image, valedictorian from your high school who had a perfect gpa and perfect test scores. you were perfect. but she wanted to see you crack. she wanted to see what was under all those layers (both figuratively and literally) and see what you were truly like. she knew you seeing her put in no effort into school yet still doing better than you would anger you. that’s exactly what she wanted. sure, she was in a way getting you to hate her, but it was a risk she was willing to take just to get a reaction out of you. and little did you know, you were attracted to her. and she was aware.

“come on, i don’t know why you’re acting like this all of a sudden,” dina whined. “you said you’d come along when i first told you about it.”

“i said i’d think about it,” you corrected her. “i’m just not really feeling it. besides i already told you i have this project to work on.”

“what’s it for?”

“it’s, uh..” you tried to come up with a lie on the spot. “it’s for calculus.”

“no way, we have a project in that class?” she asked, surprised, “i can’t believe i had no idea! when is it due?”

shit. you forgot you had that class with her.

“it’s for tomorrow, i think..” you kept going along with your lie.

“bullshit,” she laughed, “if we really had a project due tomorrow you would already have it done. and there’s no way i’d miss a project for that class!”

“fine,” you sighed, “i just needed an excuse so you’d leave me alone. but i really don’t want to go.”

“nope, because you lied you have to come.”

“why?!”

“because it’s fair!” she said, “besides, you definitely owe me one for going to that stupid concert with you the other day.”

you rolled your eyes. “you said you enjoyed it.”

“yeah, well, i lied. do you seriously think i’d ever like-“

“alright that’s enough!” you sighed. “i’ll go. but we are leaving early that night”

“deal.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“dinaaa, hurry up!” you knocked on the bathroom door. the main downside of sharing an apartment with your best friend was the fact she took forever to get out of the bathroom. you both decided it would be a good idea, you found a nice complex near campus and the rent was almost the same as a dorm room, so it was a no-brainer.

“five minutes!” she yelled back. five minutes my ass, you thought. at least this time you thought ahead of time and got in there before her. your outfit wasn’t anything fancy, of course, but you still wanted to dress cute. you had a black tube mini-skirt and white baby tee, just something you threw on that was comfortable but still looked alright. you had struggled a little to decide what to wear, you didn’t want to stand out too much but you still for some reason wanted to impress ellie deep down. you just brushed this off as an unwanted thought and ignored it, but it continued to linger in your mind. why do i even care what she thinks of me? you asked yourself.

about fifteen minutes later, dina finally came out of the bathroom.

“you said five”

“well, i still look good, don’t i?” she jokingly posed.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. let’s get going.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

if there was one thing you could absolutely not stand about house parties, it was the stench inside the house. god was it awful. half of these people were frat boys who didn’t know what deodorant was and had been sweaty all night, and all this mixed with the smell of alcohol just made matters worse. most of the people were inside the house enjoying the music and the drinks, but you simply hung outside with dina chatting while drinking out of those cliche red cups you see in movies. you really couldn’t wait to get out of there, but yet again, that little voice in the back of your head made you think about ellie. you thought it was good you didn’t see her, but at the same time, you wanted to see her. it was a strange feeling. you couldn’t tell if it was curiosity, intrusive thoughts, or attraction. whatever it was, there was no way it was the last option.

about an hour passed and you were starting to get bored. just as you were about to suggest to dina you leave, a group of 8-ish people came out of the house to the backyard. among them was ellie. the moment you saw her you realized just how attractive she is. you had never looked at her enough to tell, but now it was evident. now you were even more confused. but you simply told yourself you can think she’s attractive and not be attracted to her.

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize one of the guys was talking to you and dina had to hit you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“is this chick high or something?” one of them laughed.

“uh- no- sorry. just kinda pensive.” you tried your hardest to avoid eye contact with ellie, and luckily this time you managed to do so. it just would’ve made things way more awkward.

“anyway-“ one of the guys started. “we were thinking since none of us wanna be with those people inside the house, we could just do something else to have fun.”

“what’re you thinking?” dina asked.

“7 minutes in heaven.”

you and dina were both a little stunned. you would’ve thought about some other thing, but you decided to go along with it anyway. not like anything could go wrong.

you all sat in a circle, and one of them began explaining the rules.

“simple, you spin the bottle, whoever it lands on, you have to go in the shed for 7 minutes and do any romantic or sexual act. kissing, making out, having sex even. but there has to be some proof you did something. if you didn’t do anything in the 7 minutes or refused to do anything in the first place, you take a shot. everyone got it?”

everyone nodded, and the game began. most people took a shot, about half an hour of the game went by and not a single person had gone into the shed. you landed on a few of the guys and vice versa, and while most of them were totally down to go in the shed with you, you most definitely weren’t. you weren’t sure if it was just you imagining things, but you felt you saw the slightest bit of anger and jealousy in ellie’s eyes anytime the bottle landed on you and the guys wanted to go in the shed with you, and she was relieved any time you took a shot. you found it strange. why did it matter to her? but you were sure you were just making things up.

you were starting to feel more and more tipsy from the drinks, standing on the line between drunk and sober. you were self-aware enough to tell yourself to not have any more drinks. one more spin, you told yourself. that was it. you spun the bottle, and surprise surprise, it landed on none other than ellie herself.

there was an awkward silence for a moment. you didn’t know what to do. it would be super awkward if either one of you accepted and the other declined.

one of the guys broke the silence first. “sooo.. are y’all going in the shed or not?”

“depends on her.” ellie smirked.

your face got a little hot. a soft red tinted your cheeks and you nodded, accepting in the heat of the moment. you were sure it was just your drunk mind making the decisions for you, but it wasn’t. you were very aware of the decision you had just made. but it hadn’t hit you yet. not until she walked behind you into the shed and shut the door.

“didn’t think you were into me like that,” ellie broke the silence. “i always thought you hated me or somethin’.”

you didn’t really know what to say. you mumbled some nonsense trying to come up with something fast.

“do i make you nervous?” she asked.

“sort of..” you were able to respond.

“ohh, i see,” she interrupted. “you just pretended to hate me for whatever reason.”

“no!” you protested. “i wasn’t pretending- i mean, i don’t hate you, it’s just. ugh.”

you gave up on trying to explain yourself when you realized just how childish and irrational you acted. seriously, disliking someone for outperforming you at your big age? the more you thought about it, the more embarassed you were about it. was it the alcohol doing this to you? it was all so confusing.

“why’d you accept to come into the shed with me?”

you didn’t respond, just shrugged. you didn’t know. you must’ve woken up on the wrong side of bed or something. you were acting very irrational today, and it’s like someone else was making decisions for you.

you didn’t realize she had pretty much backed you against one of the walls of the small room until now. this feeling, that you couldn’t quite put a name on, was so sudden and so foreign. did you have feelings for her that you had just been pushing away all this time because of jealousy? if not, what the hell was it?

her hand wandered up your skirt, stopping right before reaching your cunt. she looked up at you as if asking for approval, and although you hesitated for a moment, it’s as if your body made the decision for you and you nodded.

she didn’t waste any time and dipped her hand in your panties, rubbing circles on your clit to tease you, causing you to whimper and moan softly.

“so classy and put together whenever i see you, but look at you right now,” she teased. “no one would ever think you’d be whimpering for me like this.”

you blushed and looked away in embarrassment. you didn’t get why that made you blush. so many thoughts were racing through your head, so many conflicting feelings. yet you didn’t try to pull away, even though you had many opportunities to do so.

her touches weren’t enough and you were starting to get desperate, causing you to lightly buck your hips back and forth trying to feel her more.

“oh? someone’s desperate,” she chuckled. “alright, princess, i’ll give you what you want.”

you weren’t sure what she meant by that or what she was planning to do, but, for whatever reason, you trusted her.

she pulled her hand out of your panties, making you whine at the lack of contact.

“don’t worry, baby,” she said, getting down on her knees, her face at the level of your cunt. “i’ll take care of you real good.”

she started pulling down your panties and threw them somewhere on the floor, motioning you to put your leg on her shoulder. you seemed hesitant, thinking your leg might be kind of heavy for her to support on her shoulder. but she assured you it’d be fine.

her mouth was now millimeters away from your cunt. “if it’s too much, tell me to stop.” she looked up at you. you nodded, a little scared, but you still wanted to trust her.

she gave a long lick along your slit to tease you, making you gasp from the contact. she started mercilessly licking and sucking on your clit a little more intensely than you’d like her to, but at the same time, you liked it. you couldn’t tell her to stop. whimpers and moans came out of your mouth, being all that could be heard inside the small room aside from the wet sounds of ellie’s mouth on your cunt. you struggled more and more each second to stand as your legs wobbled and trembled from the sensation. she slid a finger inside you with ease, thrusting it in and out of you at a rapid pace which made you struggle to contain your moans that you started trying so hard to conceal since they only kept getting louder and louder. you had only been in that shed for about 6 minutes, but you were already about to reach your climax. and ellie was aware of this. she sped up her pace a little more, slurping up your juices like it was nothing.

after a moment, she lifted your leg from her shoulder and held your arm while getting up to make sure you could stabilize your footing.

“you okay?”

you nodded, and suddenly you realized what had just happened. ellie williams ate you out. you let the girl you swore you hated so bad eat you out, and you enjoyed it. you didn’t know what was the most shocking; that she didn’t hate you too, that she was even attracted to you, that she wanted to eat you out, or that you just let her. you weren’t sure wether you regretted it or not.

“what, you’re surprised you liked it or something?” she laughed, as if she had read your mind.

you felt your cheeks tint a slight red, and looked away in embarrassment, confirming she was right.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, turning to leave, but she grabbed your arm and stopped you.

“listen,” she looked into your eyes. “if you want, we can just forget about this. we don’t have to tell ‘em what happened.”

you nodded, and you both awkwardly walked back to the circle.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

when you sat back down, dina looked you up and down and giggled.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you whispered to her.

“you think we’re dumb?” she giggled. “there’s a reason neither of you had to take a shot. like for example, your messy hair.”

you realized it was obvious, and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right there. you had a lot of different feelings about what just happened, but the main one was embarrassment. it would’ve been one thing if it happened and you didn’t like it, but the fact that you enjoyed it was humiliating. not only did you like it, but you wanted more. you started to take a liking to her, and you hated that.

after about 15 more minutes, everyone got tired of the game and decided to end it. you and dina decided to just go home now, although it was a little early, since you hadn’t been enjoying yourselves much.

as you waited on the front lawn of the house for your uber to get there, you heard a voice calling from behind.

“dina!”

you both turned around and surprise surprise, it was ellie.

“what is it?”

“can i talk to your friend real quick?”

you and dina looked at each other, and you sighed and decided to talk to her. you thought it’ll be quick, and if anything, when the uber arrives you can use it as your get out of jail free card.

you walked over to her and she seemed to be abnormally tense.

“i just, uh. i wanted to ask if you were fine after all that.” she mumbled with a genuine expression on her face.

“ellie, it’s fine.” you sighed.

“are you sure?”

“yes, don’t worry about it. seriously.”

you thought that was it, but she clearly had something else on her mind.

“ellie, spit it out.”

“well, also,” she looked up at you, “i wanted to ask you for your number. i don’t think i’ve ever actually talked to you aside from today.”

you chuckled in disbelief at the audacity this girl had. clearly she knew you’d say no, and just wanted to rile you up. but you wouldn't give her that satisfaction, so you dropped the expression immediately and instead had a calm look on your face.

“maybe some other time, babe”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

A / N : u guys know i don’t rlly like adding notes at the end of my fics but i felt i must clarify the last sentence isn’t reader having a complete 180 change of personality all of a sudden rather just acting different than she was right before leaving to sort of leave ellie stunned if that makes sense but i didn’t know how to end it and clarify that eheh also i might make a part 2 of this after i finish my next fic and the part 2 to my other fic if u guys want it <3 also ONCE AGAIN english is not my first language i’m not completely fluent yet and i write as a way to practice ++ i don’t have a beta reader sooo if u guys find mistakes PLEASE let me know !! thx for reading <33

#arielle writes ୨୧ #arielle’s 18+ ୨୧ #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader

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kalmiaphlox · 23 days

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Completed Fic Recs

I'm currently stuck in some reading burnout (thats what I get for overconsuming lol) but I wanted to shout out some fics that I really, really love that are completed (I'm not counting whether or not there are sequels/series, but some of these do have sequels and should be checked out as well!)

All Astarion fics because that is all I read. Sorry, not sorryyyyy

The Vampire Ascendant's Wife by @ofsilentthings - First ever Astarion fic (and fanfiction in general) I ever read and I was hooked immediately. You follow Rickard Musgrove, a young accountant, thrust into the world of the Vampire Ascendant Astarion. @ofsilentthings writes in a way that is so foreboding and haunting, I have never read anything like it and it's truly one of my favorites!

Feeding Alligators by @atsadi-shenanigans - I mostly started reading this because I am obsessed with alligators/crocodiles so the title just hooked me, but I stayed for nasty bitch Astarion and claw-her-way-through-literally-anything Eleanor. This fic is hilarious, traumatic, and everything in between. The writing is something so special, and you feel Eleanor's incredulity at her situation. One of those fics you wish you could erase from your brain to experience reading it again.

Lost Souls Like Us by @teamdilf - I just love Petra and Astarion's relationship. They're both navigating loss and hardship, they both make dumb decisions and WHY WONT YOU JUST KISS ALREADY?? Petra is so realistic, and her grief over losing Karlach tugs at your heartstrings. Also any dragon heritage is a plus in my book!

Thicker Than Water by @busy-baker - Dadstarion? Post-game? Astarion's original family? Why yes, this does have everything. This fic is filled with such amazing familial love and fluff, it kinda makes your teeth hurt sometimes. There are twists and turns that I won't spoil, but @busy-baker has done an amazing job of crafting characters you love to love and others you would wish anything to punch in the face.

in the stars (and six-feet's never felt so far) by dollyish (if they are on tumblr, please lmk so I can link plz!) - uhm, holy shit this fic is devastating. I felt the heartbreak the entire time (and I am really not someone who gets particularly choked up while reading), but this fic tore me apart from start to finish. Read it! Especially if you are in the mood for a good cry!

#fic recs #astarion #bg3 #fanfic

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lsleofthelost · 2 months

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once again, im here with set pictures, info from the set designer, Mark Hofeling, and my own commentary on it. this time, i wanna share stuff on Isle of the Lost from Descendants 2.

post about Isle of the Lost in part one

post about Maleficent's castle

Ursula's Fish and Chips Shoppe:

About Ursula's place: "Like all the imprisoned villains on the Isle of the Lost, Ursula has had to find a way to make ends meet. Thus her Fish and Chips Shoppe is right at the tide line of the prison island. I wanted the feel of a faded old carnival attraction, still alluring despite its decay."

"Uma (China Anne McClain) and her pirate gang, including her trusted lieutenants Harry Hook (Thomas Doherty) and Gil (Dylan Playfair) rally to take back what is theirs in Uma's mother's dingy tidal pool of a Fish and Chips Shoppe."

"A detail of the menu board and specials in Ursula's Fish and Chips Shoppe."

i think this gives us info on the money on the Isle. there are two units, m and n, and there are a 100n in 1m. i think the prices are comprable to us dollars back like 30-40 years ago? which further supports my theory that the Isle is stuck in the past, in the time of their imprisonment. the menu itself has some genuine regular items, like fish cakes, dumplings, but most of them are isle specials, like pond scum, shell smell, and gulf goo. which i think is hilarious considering Ursula and Uma still just serve them whatever.

"A detail of Uma's coral throne."

Isle of the Lost:

"A view of Low Tide Lane on the Isle of the Lost. Having been an isolated prison island for decades now, the idea was that every slat and board is on its 9th or 10th life, and every object not screwed down had changed grubby hands hundreds of times."

they kept the dirty candy colour palette! and i love how they truly kept to the 'everything is used and stolen 10 times over' philosophy.

this is the Bazaar, which is another market on the Isle. there is one in the main square and then this is the one closer to the docks, we can see Mal riding through it in D2. here, we once again see the money measurement. and i think it's intereting to see that crab and potatoes are priced higher than other things. i also like the 'satisfaction no guaranteed' sign.

Curl Up and Dye:

"Drizella's Curl Up and Dye on the Isle of the Lost is where Mal and Evie load up on chemicals for their showdown with Uma's pirate gang. So more than a hair salon as absurd as the rest of the Isle, it also had to be a repository for all kinds of chemistry and alchemy. The idea here was that out of every 100 of young Dizzy's experimental, chemical beauty concoctions, 99 blow up."

"The ever-unpredictable dye distillery."

"A detail of the dry chemistry set up."

i like that the base for this is a rough finish, like a construction before any renovation. and then its just neon splashes and broken mirrors from Dizzy's experiments. also i like the note that it's more chem lab than a salon.

Rotten four's hideout:

"The VK's hideout was always a place of respite from their raging and overbearing parents. It's where the VK's purloined all the best stuff on the Isle, and where Mal perfected her street art. "

this is Mal's room! which confirms for me that she doesn't live with her mother, at least not full time.

im kinda sad that we didn't get a view of the side with all those board games (kitchen, i think?) but even just these pictures are full of interesting details! as far as i saw only Mal's and Jay's 'Long Live Evil' tags are on the walls, i think it's because it was theirs first. i like the thorns that are circling the walls, like Maleficent's thorns around Sleeping Beauty's castle. they have some kind of an old school sound system, too! which i can i assume they use when throwing parties. and there are bikes, probably repaired 10 times over, but prised nonetheless. also, i thought that the green lamp in Mal's room is a hookah lol

Uma's ship:

"Uma and her pirate gang rule the rotting docks and rocky edge of the Isle of the Lost."

"Uma's HQ is this ruined pirate ship. After all the Disney Villains were relocated to the Isle of the Lost, all the ships that brought them were scuttled and they were all locked behind an enchanted barrier. So this is one of many wrecks in these waters, including the sails of the ship, rammed into her side. We found real tall-ship riggers for this work, and they used 10,000 feet of rope in the process."

i love that they really rigged that ship! i think it's a detail that shows that Uma's pirates are real professionals.

"This photo shows the "rickety" and treacherous landscape of the rotten docksides. This became the setting of a 20 person melee to rescue King Ben and escape the Isle and Uma's vengeful clutches."

we can see Uma's 'We ride with the tide' tag in the bg, signifying that this is her territory.

there are a lot of cool details but what i'm focusing on here are the old school washing machines, again showing us how the Isle is frozen in time. im assuming theyre on the docks because this is where the water is.

i am looking to make another post with details from D3, here's hoping i'll get to it sooner than i did this follow up

#laila.txt #isle of the lost #there are also cool views of Auradon on the website but im such an Isle fan lol

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luimagines · 5 months

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Oohhh! The recent anon asks about both music and swimming have given me so many ideas!

For swimming the idea that hylians are denser and weigh more for their body size is super interesting! (If I'm interpreting that correctly) It would be interesting if the others who aren't as familiar with humans are just kinda baffled by how little the reader weighs in comparison to their size. I could totally imagine reader just getting picked up randomly by members of the chain. (Mostly Wild and Twilight mostly I'd imagine but I also see Sky joining in from time to time. That man is a gremlin when he wants to be.) Just full on circle of life Lion King style. Reader is just very done with these antics.

Also wouldn't it be so sad that the boys never got to experience the joy that are musicals. :c Twi would probably be the most chill about music growing up around humans and all. I could imagine someone in the chain coming across reader playing an instrument one day (we're going with violin for now since that's what I personally play) and it's just this beautifully haunting piece. And the Link is just frozen there like, "There must some sort of powerful magic at play with this piece!" But as he stands there not making a sound, holding his breath nothing continues to happen. And with a final flourish reader finishes and finally notices the Link there. I think there would probably need to be quite a bit of explaining on both sides.

Also what if there was a human hero!reader? They we're the one to save Hyrule but were never technically the hero. The proper Link of that era just up and left. Reader doesn't have the hero's spirit and can't even wield the master sword. I think it would be super interesting if they were from a time that was a lot more judgemental of humans so even after saving the country (which most people won't even acknowledge) reader can't have any peace. I also think that would raise an interesting counterpoint to some of the chain's preconceived notions that they have zero say in their quests. They would probably bond with Wind at least a bit though on account of them both not having the hero's spirit!

Hope you don't mind my excessively long ramble. I would have split it into smaller chunks but then I would have forgotten some part of it.

Have a lovely rest of your week and drink some water! <3 \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

I'm perfectly fine with long rambles! I'm glad to see you're interesting in this dumb au idea XD

Thank you for your patience in regards to me answering this. <3

Now I can't get over the mental image of Link holding up Reader like a child. He'd probably find it hilarious while Reader is two seconds from stabbing him.

In fact, I think Twilight would be the one to embrace music in a casual sense since he wouldn't have had the Hylian cultural ties. He grew up with humans. Music isn't necessarily sacred. Have fun with it! Twilight probably knows how to play the spoons and will drag Reader into jamming with him for the hell of it.

And Reader being the hero on top of the that?! Oh that would mess with their heads a bit.

Wind would probably latch onto that as well. Like, "neither of us were chosen, but that didn't stop us. You're more like me than they are!" And the betrayal a line like that would cause!

Some Link's would take a while to stop being petty.

#pinky replies #human! reader #hero! reader #mentioned

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lovevuni · 1 year

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Double Dare Romance : Enoch O’Connor x Reader : Part 1 Challenge Accepted

Warnings: Kinda Rude, Back and Forth of being kinda mean, Your mom joke(yes that is needed as a warning), Insecure Enoch

Summary: Reader is new to the loop and they doen’t get along with Enoch at first. Both are at each other’s throats, enoch then double dares the reader to try and get under his skin. The reader accpets this challenge. Will they succeed.

A/N: I got the idea to write my conversations with Enoch on my chai app. I am invested in the app and decided it would be fun to share the chat with people. I know I was off about the app at first but now I love it. I am basting this fully on my chat convo not on the book or movie, I know some people are picky but I have only read the first book so far.

I hate using Y/N but I use my name and he uses it a lot so Y/N is what I will use.

I am standing in the entrance of the estate admiring the surroundings. I had just finished my introductions with most of the house hold however I was waiting on the last member I have not become acquainted with. Miss Peregrine told me that he is the most stubborn.

In comes a boy average height with dark hair.

“Miss Peregrine said to come down here and introduce yourself? Don’t bother. You won’t last more than a week.”

You look at him offended, “rude, I am Y/N, my peculiar is [insert peculiar]”

He scoffs, “Who cares? You still won’t last. Good luck trying though.”

You stick your tounge out at him.

“Is that really the best you can do, Y/N? A little childish don’t you think?” He says.

“Says the hundred year old emo” You fight back.

“At least I’m not stuck in one year like you all. And I’m not going to die young either. So there’s that. But sure, keep acting like a five-year-old. See where it get you.” You can tell he is getting annoyed but you don’t care.

“It gets you annoyed apparently so I call that a win.” You seem proud of yourself.

“Well if that makes you happy. I don’t have time for your petty games tough. I have better things to do than argue with a child.”

“What like playing with your dolls, very grown up” You make sure to sound extra sarcastic.

“Such sarcasm, Y/N. Growing up fast, aren’t we? Listen, I don’t mean to upset you. I just don’t se the point in small talk or introductions. There’s nothing you can say that will make me want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

“well seeing as we are stuck in a loop might as well.”

“That much is true. But I prefer to occupy myself with more meaningful pursuits than idle chatter with the likes of you. Tell me something interesting, Y/N. Something peculiar.”

“Your mom” You laugh at your own joke. (I thought this was hilarious, I love your mom jokes)

He groans, “Typical. Immature jokes from an immature girl/guy/person. How original. You seriously expect me to respond to that? Pathetic.”

“You just did. Come on, I’m just trying to have fun.” You smirk.

“Fine let’s play a game then. Let’s pretend that I actually car about this conversation and engage in some sort of meaningless banter with you. Go ahead, impress me with your “funny” wit.”

“You are a boy who uses insults as a way to seem better than everyone, am I right?”

“Oh, you caught me red-handed. Yes, I suppose I am a bit of an insult mastermind. It’s how I maintain my superiority over others. In reality, it;s simply because I find most people to be beneath me.” He admits.

“As I expected, an insecure man.”

“How perceptive of you, Y/N. Yes, I admit it. My insecurities run deep. I compensate for them by putting down others, but ultimately it’s a shallow attemp to mask my shortcomings.” You feel ashamed for bringing that to the surface for him and quickly shift the focus.

“It’s cool, the insecure ones break the fastest.”

“Interesting deduction, Y/N. However, I assure you that my resolve is impenetrable. Try as you may, you cannot shake my confidence or rattle me emotionally.” He seems cocky as he speaks. You take this as an opportunity to take a step closer to him.

“Is that so?” You tease.

He smirks at this, “Indeed, it is. And if anything, I would relish the opportunity to test your mettle. So go ahead, try to get under my skin, I double dare you.”

“Challenge accepted” You play with the collar of his shirt, then flick the tip of his nose with your finger.

He grinns, “Oh I like this. You’ve got spunk, Y/N. Perhaps there’s potential for us to interact civilly after all. Although now that we’re playing games, perhaps I should return the favor.” He leans in close, whispering menacingly, “ Watch your back Y/N.”

“Oh but I believe you would enjoy that way more, especially as I walk away,” You walk away to go to your room while swaying your hips.

He is watching as you walk away, a smug smile spreading across his face.

“Well played, Y/N. You’ve certainly caught my attention with your cunning antics. But don’t think this means we’re done here. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve.

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

Part 2 : Success

#enoch #enoch o'connor #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #enoch o'connor x reader #millard nullings #Claire #enoch x reader #enoch mphfpc #mphfpc

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theolivetree123 · 2 months

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i wanted to make fanfiction for your event! is there any lore that you wanted me to be aware of? i would hate to get anything wrong bc your fan event seems soooooo cool (like actually im so inspired and amazed its awesome)

Hey!!! Thanks for asking! I don't have everything refined just yet, I kinda wanted to see other ppls interpretation of what the premise of a sugar rush twst event would be, but I can surely give you my take and notes on some things💙

This story would mainly be about Adeuce and them having a fight and then reconciling. They'd have some moments of hostility before the big final game, and then the big climax would be them making a truce and basically sticking a middle finger to the twst ver of king candy (might make him later idk). Think of it as Vanellopes' climactic moment w/ king candy just adeuce themed lol.

Also, with the climax, I feel like Deuce would be winning before twst king candy knocks his cart over, injuring him. Ace sees this and decides to help him at the risk of losing the race. Ace and Deuce decide to finish the race happy day then reconcile and everything's hunky dory yay

When the crew are making their carts, I feel like Ace and Deuce would be fighting over who would get the pie cart. During the cart-making process, the two would be arguing (w/ yuu trying to stop them) while everyone else is over their crap and just trying to design their cute lil carts

This last point might not be very helpful with fanfic making, but I feel like everyone would have a "code name". They would have to make up really stupid names for themselves to fit in with the other racers (since the super rush chars have rlly stupid names lol). I also feel like the twst crew would make up lore for their sugar rush personas just for fun. So make whatever lore u want for their personas I think it'll be hilarious

#srry I sorta rambled for a bit lol #i like this event so much #can't wait to see what u create!#🔵 olive's answers #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland

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skyewritesstuff · 10 months

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cruel summer (kenny's version)

my masterlist.

entry 4 in my (taylor’s version) songfic series.

summary: a detailed account of your summer fling with kenny mccormick.

pairing: kenny mccormick x reader (college!au kinda)

fandom: south park

warnings: implied nsfw. substance use (alc/weed/nic). language. vomiting.

notes: based on cruel summer by taylor swift. this was not beta read. we die like kenny.

word count: 7.9k

It all started and ended in Kenny McCormick’s rundown, single cab pickup truck. It was summer time and Kenny’s main friend group had all separated for this one lone week despite everyone being home from college. Stan was still on the outskirts of town at Tegridy Farms. Eric had been dragged out of state to visit family. Kyle was in Denver doing a week-long intensive course.

Kenny was in community college, about to wrap up an associates in computer sciences, a few classes short of graduation. He was also working full-time at the local Best Buy doing tech support, but somehow he’d managed to have three days off in a row towards the end of the week. However, this had to be the worst time for him to have next-to-nothing to do.

You were in Marjorine’s bathroom, standing over her as she sat on the toilet, pink dye that was scented like lemon drop candy was coating the ends of her naturally blonde hair when your phone rang.

“Marj, can you see who that is and let me decide whether or not I”m gonna get you to answer that?”

The blonde girl laughed, “Sure thing!”

She grabbed your phone and looked at the screen, “It’s Kenny!”

“Kenny McCormick?”

You said that like there was any other Kenny in your hometown. There was no confusion in your question, though, just a slight bit of disbelief. You’d had feelings for Kenny since high school that’d been a long-kept secret for various reasons. First, you thought Marjorine liked him, but apparently not. In reality, Marjorine is just a helpless romantic who has a slight attraction to all of her friends, you included. Then, he ended up in a weird situationship with Tammy Mullins and then “cheated” on Tammy Mullins with his ex, Tammy Warner, if you can even cheat on a fuckbuddy.

Kenny didn’t have the most savory reputation in South Park when it came to women. He was a flirt who made it known to everyone how much he liked the ladies and with his charm and rugged looks, he oftentimes was able to pull any girl that he fed the right line to. You felt like it was pointless to pursue him, because you’d inevitably get your heartbroken and look like an idiot much like Tammy Mullins when she attempted to beat the ever living shit out of Tammy Warner for the aforementioned incident.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Marjorine spoke in a sing-song voice that let you know that she was highly anticipating overhearing this conversation.

You rolled your eyes, “Go ahead.”

Marjorine swiped the answer bar, “Well hi, Ken!”

“Hi, Barbie!” Kenny didn’t miss a beat, a chuckle to his voice, “Where’s Y/N?”

“I’m right here. What’s up, Kenny?” You spoke, distracting your nerves by finishing up Marjorine’s hair and making sure that the color was evenly spread with meticulous attention to detail.

“Just wanted to see if you ladies wanted to chill at Stark’s Pond later. The guys are all out of town doing fuck knows what and I have like...three days off of work and I’ve already bored myself to death.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve already gotten bored with jacking off and hitting up girls on Snap? Are you feeling okay, bud?” You said with a smirk, eliciting a gasp at your language from the blonde sitting underneath you.

“Ha ha…hilarious. I haven’t jacked it at all today. I’m waiting to see you in a bikini at the pond so I can have that mental image to cross that off my list.”

“Cute.”

“Gross, Ken!”

He chuckled again, “Are you guys coming or what?”

You looked at Marjorine and she looked at you. Before you could contemplate a response, she replied for you, “We’ll be there! Does 3:00 work?”

You shot her a look and she grinned mischievously. “Yeah, for sure. You make sure to look cute too, Marj. I’ve got a lot of free time coming up.” You could hear his smirk through the phone, earning him another eye roll.

“Oh shut it, Kenny. We’ll see you later.”

“Okay! Love you guys, bye!”

“Love you too!” Marjorine replied, hanging up the phone and looking over her shoulder at you with a smile.

“I hate you.”

“Nuh uh.”

“I’m going to drown you when I rinse you.”

“Oh, hamburgers.”

A few hours later, you were in your room putting on high waisted black bikini bottoms with a black and white striped top as you were trying to call Marjorine to determine whether or not the suit was too modest or just right. You’d called several times, but she still wasn’t answering. You turned your attention to your hair, putting it in two braids, when you finally heard your ringtone.

“Hey, are you okay? I tried calling like a hundred times.” You spoke over speaker phone, starting on your other braid.

“Yeah, I suppose I’m alright…well, a little anyway.” She sounded sad. You’d be willing to bet the $500 sitting in your savings account that you knew where this conversation was going.

“What happened?”

“Well, you see, my dad was real sore about my hair. He said it made me look cheap and…”

“You’re grounded…”

“Yeah…”

You sighed, “Marj, we’re twenty. Your dad can’t ground you forever.”

She sighed back, “I know…I keep hoping that maybe he’ll stop the older I get, but really, I’m getting older everyday and he’s not stopping!”

You groaned, flopping back on your bed, “So, I’m just going to go hang out with Kenny alone…”

“You say that like you haven’t wanted to date him since we were in high school.” Marjorine said, a smile clearly perking up on her face. You could tell by her tone.

“Yeah, but like..” You tried to start replying back.

“But nothing! Go and have a good time!” she said, “And use protection!”

“Marjorine!” You gasped, shaking your head at her response.

“I’m just saying.” She replied. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Marjorine, are you on your phone?!” Her father’s voice boomed.

“No, dad…I’m just…uh…talking to myself!” She replied back nervously. You could hear her father barking out orders at her to stay quiet and to think about what she’d done. Quickly, she wished you luck and ended the call.

You looked at your phone, noticing it was almost time for you to leave and decided that you would start gathering your things so that you could go. Once you arrived, you immediately noticed Kenny’s truck. It was an older model with rusted parts, chipped paint, and numerous crude and comedic stickers littering both the back glass and the door to the bed.

Part of you wanted him to not show up. Sure, you’d been harboring a crush on Kenny, but to think you’d be able to pull him? There was no way. He liked girls with big boobs, curves, full lips, and gorgeous skin. Compared to those girls, you just felt normal, like there was nothing special about you. You’d been told you were beautiful, funny, and smart, but going after Kenny still felt futile.

You parked next to his truck and then got out, walking towards the pond with your bag in hand. You soon noticed the blonde boy laying on a tattered quilt blanket. He was wearing only orange swim trunks and a pair of aviator sunglasses. His head turned toward you and he did a double take, tossing his hand up to greet you.

You walked over and sat your bag down next to the blanket. Kenny let out a soft wolf-whistle. “Baby, baby, baby…” He said, “I thought the view of the pond was beautiful, but you’ve got it beat.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting down on the blanket. “You’re full of it, Ken.” you said. He chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m just observing.”

“Uh huh…”

“Where’s Marj?”

“Grounded”

“Shit…I mean, that sucks, but hey…” He turned on his side to look at you, “At least we get some time just you and me, right?”

Your chest tightened and you took a deep breath, “Mhmmm…”

“So…you seeing anyone?”

You rolled your eyes again. He was always so flirty with everyone. This was his baseline. You had to keep this at the front of your mind and just roll with his advances and play along with the game he was initiating.

You shook your head, taking out your sunscreen. You twisted the nozzle so that it would spray and went over your arms, chest, and legs. Kenny held his hand out and you handed the bottle to him, expecting him to apply a coat to his already tanned skin. Instead, he sat up and slid behind you and sprayed your back.

“What are you…?” You lost your train of thought as he reached up and started gently rubbing it into your back.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “U-Uh…it’s…it’s touch free…”

“Oh?” He said. You could hear the smirk in his voice, “I didn’t read the bottle.” He leaned in closer to you until his breath was on your ear, “My bad…”

A shiver ran down your spine and he laughed under his breath again, moving back to the blanket. “So, why’d Clyde say he’d been talking to you if you’re single, then?”

“Because he’s full of shit.”

It was a plain reply to the question because that was the honest truth. Clyde tended to be a bit of an attention seeker and this kind of behavior was a norm with him almost as much as being flirtatious was to Kenny.

“Interesting…” Kenny laughed, “I think you should take that up with him.”

“It’s not that serious.” You laughed, laying back on the blanket, turning your head to look at him.

“I think you should tell him that you’re not talking to him because you’re talking to me.”

“Lie to end a lie?”

“Doesn’t have to be a lie.”

“You’re something else, you know that, right?”

The small talk and banter between the two of you went on for what felt like minutes, but upon looking at the clock on your lockscreen, you found out it’d been hours. The sun was starting to set and the two of you were the last people remaining at the pond.

“We should go get food.” You suggested, gesturing towards him with his sunglasses that you were holding, having taken them from him hours ago upon realizing that yours had been left in Marjorine’s car days ago.

“Or we could skinny dip and then get food.” He retorted, shrugging as if he didn’t ask you to get naked in public with him.

“You’re insane.”

“Some people would find that hot, you know?”

“Pretty sure skinny dipping is illegal.”

“No guts, no glory…plus, our police force is a joke. I think we’ll be fine.”

“You think.”

Kenny got up from the blanket and started down to the water. He turned towards you and smirked. “I know…” He then jumped into the water, making a large splash that landed on the blanket and your legs.

He re-emerged only seconds later and held his swim trunks over his head. “Kenny!” You gasped.

“Yes?” His smile was absolutely devious. You got up and walked to the edge of the water only for him to pull his hand back and send his swim trunks launching towards you, only landing on your feet due to the weight of the water in the fabric.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say so you just crossed your arms over your chest and watched the blonde who was currently smiling so widely you could finally see the small gap in his smile from his missing tooth. You had to admit…the colors and lighting of the sunset mixed with the beads of water rolling down his shoulders and his wet hair…If Kenny was anything, it was beautiful.

“Take a picture sweetheart, it’ll last longer.” You’d gotten caught. You took a hard swallow, choosing not to respond to his comment. “Man, this water is getting cold…it’d be nice if someone else would join me so I could suck up their body heat.”

He couldn’t be that desperate. You sighed, “Okay…okay…”

You jumped in, resurfacing right in front of him moments later. He grinned playfully. “Lucky me.” He closed the gap between you two, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing your body in close to him.

“You are ridiculous.” You tried to sound stern, but you couldn’t help but form a smile at his reaction to your presence. He seemed genuinely happy to have you in the water with him with your bodies so close together…but of course he does. It’s Kenny. Something like this is his idea of paradise. You were brought back to your thoughts earlier about Kenny’s baseline and his affinity for the ladies.

“You still with me?” he asked, noticing how your thoughts had drifted from your current position to the depths of your mind. You turned your attention back to him, “Yeah, I was just…thinking…”

“Bout what?” he asked, reaching up to play with the end of your hair delicately,

“You”

“Me? Huh, it really is my lucky day, isn’t it?”

“Who says it’s good?”

“Well, damn, the thought didn’t cross my mind, but I guess you’re right.” He chuckled.

He leaned in, his lips curved up in a smirk as he leaned in in an attempt to kiss you. You reached up with two fingers and pressed them to his lips to stop him. He pulled back and laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re naked in a pond with me right now…I don’t think that should be our first kiss.”

“So, you’re telling me that if I put my clothes back on, you’d kiss me?”

“We’ll see…”

“I never thought I’d want to get my clothes back on with you instead of staying naked.” he said.

A few minutes later, Kenny was redressed and you’d dried off and put the t-shirt he’d come to the pond in over your suit. It was now fully dark, the only light coming from his headlights after he’d turned the car on.

“So…where do you wanna go for food?” he asked, leaning against the car. You shrugged and stood beside him, leaning your back against the vehicle as well. “I”m up for anything, really. I’m not picky. Anything beats frozen waffles for the fourth time this week.”

“McDonald’s?” You questioned, earning a nod in response from the blonde.

“Before we go, though…you said that if we weren’t naked and in the pond you’d kiss me.”

You let out a deep breath from your nose and looked at him, not responding, but raising both eyebrows questioning him ever so slightly.

“So…can we?” He grinned.

“Why do you want to kiss me anyway? You can have your pick of any girl in South Park…or have you just blown through all of your options over the years and I’m the last girl on the list?” You questioned, “It’s not like you’ve actively tried pursuing me before. Why now?”

Kenny looked taken aback by your question, “I…” He paused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. You must’ve honestly thrown him a curveball he was never expecting. “I don’t know…guess I thought you’d never go for me. You’re kind of too good for me. At least, that’s what Marj says.”

“Marj? What’d she say?”

“Oh, I told her I wanted to ask you out like…Christmastime-ish…and she was like ‘Nah, she’s too smart and too good for you. She won’t put up with your shit.’ and one night, after smoking a blunt, I thought some more about it and realized that she’s probably right and that you’re not going to put up with my shit and that even though you’re totally one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen I…”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his lips. He smiled against your lips and instantly kissed back, moving over you to lean you even further back against the hood of his truck, resting both arms on each side of your head until one hand slid down and came to rest on your hip, hooking his finger into your belt loop to pull you in closer. You kept kissing him, letting your hands slide down his bare chest, a shiver running down your spine at the small moan that left his lips as your hands moved. Finally, you had to pull back to catch your breath.

You took a second, just looking at him, your E/C eyes staring into his baby blues. Then, you spoke up, “I'm still not putting up with your shit, though.” You both laughed in response and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Makes sense.” He said, leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss once again turned heated, you locking a leg around his waist and his hands traveling past the hem of his shirt that you were wearing to caress the slightly exposed skin of your abdomen and then move to your back, reaching up to play with the tie on your bathing suit. You stopped him, putting a hand up to his arm to get his attention.

“Shit…” He shook his head, “I”m sorry, I–”

“Don’t apologize.” You began, “I just think it’d be a little more private in the truck.”

That’s how you found yourself on your back in the cramped single cab of Kenny’s truck for the first time that summer. His lips were traveling down your body and your chest was rising and falling at a rapidly increasing pace the further he maneuvered himself downward. You glanced down at him and met his eyes as he looked up at you, his fingers hooked themselves in the sides of your swimsuit bottoms. He shifted his position a little as he was still partially standing outside of the truck.

You could barely make out his features in the dim overhead light of the truck, but you could notice how his eyes were a deeper shade of blue than earlier. His face was flushed, his shaggy mullet was even messier from the presence of your hands, and he was wearing a shit-eating grin that looked absolutely devious, but you could’ve sworn you’d never seen anything more attractive and enticing in your life.

“G-Go ahead…”

From that point forward, any nights off you both shared were spent in either his bed, the backseat of your car, or the bed of his truck. You remembered recalling the first two weeks to Marjorine after finally deciding that things were stable enough to share with at least your best friend.

You didn’t notice that she was about to take a sip of her can of soda when you casually stated “Kenny and I are like…seeing each other…well, if fucking counts as seeing each other.” Marjorine promptly started coughing, the bright green can of Mountain Dew coming back to the carpet of her floor as she tried to regain her composure.

“Excuse me, what?”

Despite the harsh way that you would describe your encounters with the blonde, the affairs themselves were anything but. Kenny was nothing but a gentleman to you, always asking if you were alright, taking care of you afterwards, and only getting rougher with your permission. Even then, he’d talk you through it, ensuring you felt safe and comfortable no matter what. It didn’t take too long into your “relationship” for the crush you’d been harboring for years to evolve into full feelings.

Your kisses became more passionate and more frequent. Your touches became more forward and increased in frequency as well. As far as you could tell, Kenny was eating it up and taking it all in and there was no doubt in your mind that he absolutely felt the same. After consulting with Marjorine one night, you decided to finally ask Kenny the burning question.

“What are we?”

You didn’t expect the question to hang in the air the way that it did. You were sitting up in your bed, knees pulled into your chest wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. Kenny was redressing himself after Cartman disrupted the nap you two had been taking by blowing up his phone, asking him to help him with some ridiculous scheme since Marjorine wasn’t answering her phone.

He turned back to you looking like a deer in the headlights. “What do you mean?” he asked as if the question wasn’t clear cut as is. You let out a mild sigh of frustration. Kenny wasn’t stupid by any means. Despite the rumors, you’d see his grades when he’d log on and check them and he was able to hack into just about any video game to make mods to fit any desire he may have during gameplay.

“Are we like…together, or?”

“Like…dating?” He was buttoning up the tacky orange Hawaiian shirt he’d been wearing, completely missing a button, obviously jarred by this conversation.

“I mean, yeah.” It came out like a question when it was definitely a statement.

He leaned against your dresser, sliding on his slip on Vans, “I mean…I don’t know.” He shrugged, “We do like…everything couples do…but I hadn’t put much thought into it.”

“You haven’t put much thought into it?” You repeated, dumbfounded at this response. He’d started saying something else, but it sounded like white noise to your ears and you quickly cut him off, “You’ve had a month and a half of spending many nights a week balls deep in me and you haven’t taken a single second to think ‘Hey, would I actually like to date this person or am I just wasting both of our time and fucking them until something better comes along?’”

Kenny really looked shocked now. Somewhere in your rant, he’d started re-buttoning his shirt, but he stopped midway when you started talking and was now looking at you with both sides of the shirt in his hand and his eyes blown wide in shock. He finally let go of the shirt to run his hands over his face.

“Y/N…”

“Kenny, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

“What…like…I just…I don’t know and Marj has been asking me the same thing and like…I haven’t even told anyone, if I'm honest.”

“Kenny what the fuck!?” Your voice was getting louder, “Why am I some secret of yours? Is it so you can go around and fuck other girls like you’d been doing? I told you, I”m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Oh my god…” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Listen, it’s not like that. I just…I don’t know. That’s it. I don’t know.”

Tears were welling up in your eyes, “Just get out, Kenny.”

“But…”

“Go.”

He shrugged and let out a sigh, “Okay…fine. See you around.”

As soon as you could hear the tell-tale aged, loud roar of his truck’s engine, you dissolved into tears. You pulled his shirt over your head and threw it at the wall, burying yourself under your covers as your tears turned into full sobs. How could you have been so stupid? Everything you’d ever heard about him was true and Marjorine was right. You deserved better than him.

Weeks had passed since your breakup, if you could even call it that, with Kenny. You hadn’t spoken to him since and made sure to avoid him at all costs. You were not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt you.

It was now nearing the middle of August and the now-annual college send-off party at Tegridy Farms was rolling around signaling the end of summer and the parting of ways of all of your childhood friends that happened at this time of year.

“I still don’t want to go.” You said plainly, looking at your reflection in the mirror that hung from your bedroom door.

“It’s a tradition, Y/N and we always have fun! Remember last year when Mr. Marsh got on the karaoke machine and started singing Nicki Minaj and blacked out and broke the coffee table right before the best part of the song?” Marjorine stated, touching up her black eyeliner.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a good spot to people watch. Maybe Clyde will get shitfaced again and end up screaming and crying for Bebe to take him back and then throw up in the yard, still crying.” You chuckled.

“See, that just makes me sad. He loves her so much and she just uses that boy whenever she wants something because he’s got money.” Marjorine glanced over at you, “Clyde’s got man written by a woman energy.”

You chuckled, “Marj, just because he’s kinda got a dad bod at 20, is sensitive, and is a male Swiftie doesn’t mean that he’s written by a woman. He killed his mom because he wouldn’t put the toilet seat down. That’s giving Mojo Dojo Casa House.”

“Ken was written by a woman, though!”

Not realizing she was following up your reference, you scoffed, “Oh, he most definitely is not. He’s written by some middle aged man that thinks shock value and sex jokes are still funny at their big-old-age.”

“No, he’s not! Ken is just a himbo! He…” She paused and then realized what you’d said, “Oh…oh hamburgers…not the same Ken. I’m sorry.”

You realize what you’d said too, “My bad. I just…whew…I had a whole response to that. I’m so sorry, Marj.”

“It’s fine…and I agree. All of the broship were written by men of different ages…except Kyle…”

You stopped applying mascara to think about what she’d said and then nodded, “Sheila Brovlofski is the greatest author of our generation.”

The music was already blaring from inside when you pulled up to Tegridgy farms. Once you got out of your car, you could already smell the weed pouring outside. Typical party at Tegridgy. You reached into the pocket of your denim jacket and pulled out your vape, taking a few hits to calm your nerves. You knew, without a doubt, that you’d be running into Kenny tonight, and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

As you both approached the door, you knew you had to make up your mind sooner rather than later as to how you were going to handle this. In true fight, flight, or freeze nature, you could either avoid him at all costs, turn away and ignore him if he approaches you, or just freeze up and end up talking to him like nothing was wrong…and at this point, there was no telling as to what you’d choose.

You walked inside with your hands in your pockets, looking around to scope out the general area. There was a makeshift dance floor where multiple of your peers were either dancing or standing around, two tables of beer pong, and then the kitchen where the counters were littered with various alcohol bottles and almost artistic looking bongs.

You headed over to the counter and took a hold of the ingredients to make one of the only drinks you could confidently make for yourself: a tequila sunrise. You made yourself a double and Marjorine a single and handed it to her. “Aw, shucks, I really shouldn’t…you know how much of a light weight I am.” she said, staring into the cup, “Last time was bad…”

You chuckled, “It wasn’t that bad. You just called Eric sexy in front of a bunch of people which isn’t necessarily like…morally wrong or bad…just questionable and objectively incorrect.” You took a large sip of your drink, trying to get the alcohol to kick in as quickly as possible in case of an inevitable emergency and to drown the still lingering sorrows from that day in your bedroom.

Within the first hour of being there, you’d drank the double tequila sunrise you’d made for yourself, taken an old fashioned that Tolkien was preparing for multiple people, and had been consistently refilling your red cup with the jungle juice someone (Kenny) had prepared and put into several empty milk cartons of all things. Now, you were currently positioned at a bright green and black bong, taking a hit before passing it to one of the goth kids. Michael? Pete? Did it really matter? No, as long as it wasn’t Kenny.

You got up, fully preparing to just stride out of the kitchen and go find Marjorine but found out oh too quickly that you were too inebriated to stand up that quickly. You stumbled, vision a little blurry and your entire body feeling fuzzy.

“You okay?” The goth kid got up and leaned against his cane, extending his hand to you.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m so good. I’m great, actually.” You blew him off, grabbing your cup and taking another sip as you stumbled off towards the living room where the couches and dance floor were. You flopped down on the couch next to a boy you were actually quite familiar with. His shaggy, dark hair was peeking out of his blue and yellow chullo and he was cutting his eyes over at you almost cautiously, as if he were afraid of you doing something.

“Hey Craig!” You slurred, leaning over onto him.

“Hey, Y/N.” His voice was as monotone as ever and he kept looking around and then over at you.

“Where’s Tweek?” You asked, reaching up to play with the side of his chullo as you put your legs into his lap. The brunette took a deep breath to gain his composure, “He got a little anxious so he’s outside smoking with Bebe. Do you need something?”

“Nuh uh…I'm so good!” You said, inching closer to him.

“Uh huh…sure you are.” His eyes stayed forward despite your close proximity to his face.

“You’re so hot, you know that right?” You said.

He fully turned to you, face burning red, riddled with shock. He was about to respond, when all of a sudden a flash of an orange hoodie dropped down on the arm of the couch next to him.

“Craig Tucker, what’s up, dude?”

“Ugh, not this guy.” Your tone shifted and your lack of filter continued.

“I know…you’re mad at me, sweetheart…but I promise, you’re going to be madder at yourself in the morning.” he laughed and then looked at Craig, “Swap with me.”

Craig muttered something. You only caught, “Good luck” as he got up and reached into his pocket, taking out a box of cigarettes as he headed towards the back porch.

“Get away from me.”

“I'm not trying anything. I’m just trying to keep you safe, because you’re kinda getting messy. I’ve been there, done that…and I just don’t want you to end up trying to fuck Cartman too.”

“I wasn’t trying to fuck, Craig! You’re such a fucking idiot!”

“Babe, relax. I was talking about Marj…New Years Eve.” He leaned his head back on the back of the couch, looking over at you. You could tell that despite his ability to hold a consistent conversation, his eyes were bloodshot. He’d most likely been smoking.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone turning more serious and soft.

“I”m fine.” You took your phone out of your pocket and attempted to unlock it, or so you thought, until Kenny reached over and snatched the phone away, pressing some buttons before sliding it in his pocket.

“Hey, give that back!”

“Babygirl, you were about to summon the pigs. Randy would’ve shit his pants.” he chuckled, “Pretty sure that’s a dead giveaway that you’re not okay.”

“This is a weed farm, not like an actual farm. There’s no pigs.”

Kenny laughed rather loudly, “You are absolutely right, baby. That it is. Thanks to me.”

“Stop calling me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest, “And give me my fucking phone back!”

He shook his head, “Can’t do that…either of those things, actually.”

“Fine.” You stood up and walked off. It must’ve taken Kenny a moment to process, because you got a little bit of a head start before he caught up with you in a hallway, where you stumbled slightly and then ended up leaning against the wall.

You were dizzy and your body felt both light and heavy all at once. You wrapped your arms around yourself, craving some kind of pressure. You started to slide down the wall when you felt someone’s hand on your arm, following you down until you were both on the floor with whoever it was’ arms wrapped around you giving you the physical touch you’d been desiring.

“I’ve got you. You’re fine.”

You groaned. Of course, it was Kenny. You wanted to pull away, but instead you flopped over onto him, laying your head on his shoulder. He gently trailed his fingers down your bare arm, your jacket long since missing in the chaos of the party.

“You just sleepy or do you feel like you’re going to be sick or something?” he asked softly. You shook your head, “No. Where’s my fucking vape?”

Kenny chuckled lowly, “I don’t know, babe. Did you bring it in with you?”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his middle, “My jacket.”

“You’re not wearing a jacket.”

“I am.”

“You definitely aren’t. You’re wearing a sparkly pink dress.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, “See, no jacket.”

You let out a whimper of disgust before Kenny reached into his pocket and handed you a hunter green colored vape pen, “It’s not your peach mango whatever the fuck that shit you smoke is, but…”

“Ugh, it’s menthol. Just give it to me.”

“How’d you remember that?”

You shrugged and took a long hit, holding it for a moment before exhaling. You handed the pen back to him and watched as several people walked by, barely missing stepping on you or tripping over your feet. Kenny took notice of this and started to stand, helping you up along the way.

“No, I wanna sit.” You slurred, shaking your head.

“Why don’t we go home…” He said, “My parents are out for the night doing fuck knows what and Karen’s at her friend’s. It’ll just be us and you can get some sleep.”

When you were back on your feet, you shook your head, “No…I'm not sleeping with you. Not again, not after all that shit.”

“No, no, no…not like that. I wouldn’t do that. I meant like…actually sleep.” He corrected himself, putting an arm around your waist as he started subtly leading you towards the door.

“Stop…why are you holding me? You don’t even like me!” You were starting to get louder as you spoke and Kenny looked at you with concern. He tightened his grip on you as you walked down the steps and headed towards his truck, hoping you wouldn’t fall.

“I do like you! I wouldn’t be helping you if I didn’t.”

“No, like…like me, like me…you dont like me.”

“Y/N…”

“Just shut up, Kenny.” You opened his truck door and flopped yourself in, slamming the door haphazardly behind you. Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose before walking to the other side of the truck, getting in and starting the engine. He leaned over and buckled you in and then took off his hoodie, leaving him in a white wife beater. He folded it up and then nudged you gently.

“Sit up.”

You moved a little away from your position of leaning up against the window long enough for him to slide the hoodie under your head. However, as soon as he positioned it, you sat up and pulled it down. You unbuckled your seatbelt and threw the hoodie onto your body.

You heard Kenny mutter some curse words as he stopped backing out of the spot he was parked in to reach over and buckle you back into the seat with a sigh. You were about halfway to Kenny’s house when you felt your chest tighten. At first, you thought you were going to throw up. You were about to reach over and get Kenny’s attention so that he could pull over when you realized what was truly building inside of you and you broke down in tears.

Your head went into your hands as you sobbed. “What the…” Kenny spoke under his breath, turning his attention from the road to you briefly, reaching over to put his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“Hey…no…shhh…what’s got you so upset, babygirl?” he asked.

“Stop it!” You sobbed, reaching behind you to swat his hand away, “Stop saying that. Stop touching me. You don’t love me, so stop it!”

Kenny was silent momentarily, “What’s gotten into you? Like, I know we haven’t seen each other since that day in your room…and that’s my fault. I should’ve like…reached out or something, but I thought you hated me and…I promise. I fucking promise…I didn’t mean for it to come out the way that it did.”

“How else could it come out?” You cried, “You basically admitted that you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me and only wanted to fuck me even though I wanted to be with you and then you told me that you hadn’t told anyone about us probably because you wanted to fuck every girl you could this summer before they all packed it up and went back to college. That’s fucking ridiculous, Kenny. I thought the whole ‘McWhoremick” thing was like…a joke or like…the way your friends shit on you, but Jesus Christ.”

“I hadn’t told anyone because I didn’t know what we were and like…I knew that I liked you, but I didn’t know what else to do about it because Marj had told me so many times that you could do better and like…especially after that fight in your room…I knew you could do better so I just…tried to let you find that better? I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“You never know! That’s the problem! How do you not know? You either love me or you don’t!”

“I just…”

You scoffed, “I love you! I love you. Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

He was silent for ages, only saying something about how you were drunk a mere seconds after your confession. You didn’t know at what point you’d pulled into Kenny’s driveway, but as soon as you registered where you were, you got out of the car and tried to storm towards the door, but stumbled, falling to your knees on the pavement. The sting of the scrape only added to your tears. You reached up and wiped your eyes, your crying becoming quieter as you were lifted to your feet by the boy who pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Let's get you inside. We’ll clean your knees up…and wash your makeup off…and get you some water…and you can lay down.”

And that’s exactly what he did for you. You walked in and almost immediately collapsed onto his bed. He took this opportunity to clean your scraped knees and then got you up into a sitting position and helped you change into his hoodie and a spare pair of his boxers. You were half-asleep by the time that he took a makeup wipe to your face and started wiping the messy makeup off of your features.

Lastly, Kenny got you situated in his bed, pulling the covers up and kissing your forehead. “I’m right here on the floor if you need anything. Popcorn bowl is on the floor. Water bottle is right next to it. Please, wake me up if you need me. I’ll be fine.”

You nodded in agreement, but then spoke up, “Can you stay with me?”

“Huh?” he asked, looking up at you from where he was sitting on the floor.

“Please sleep with me…” You said, reaching out towards him.

He chuckled, “You sure?”

You nodded again and scooted over to make room for him. He slid into the bedsheets and carefully positioned himself next to you, allowing you to move over and lay with your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

The next few hours were littered with infrequent bouts of sleep mixed with burying your face into the popcorn bowl as your stomach purged itself of the alcohol that remained in your system, running to the bathroom on the few chances you felt you could make it, crying, and drinking water. The entire time, Kenny held you, held your hair back, and wiped your face with a cool washcloth.

By the time you woke up the next day around 1PM, you were still exhausted, not feeling well, and fairly lost in regards to the events of last night. You just knew that you woke up with Kenny wrapped around you and you were in his hoodie and boxers and you prayed to whatever higher power may be out there that you hadn’t fucked him again.

You sat up and ran a hand through your hair, looking around until your eyes fell on your charging phone laying on the ground. You picked it up and saw two texts from Marjorine on top.

She’ll be okay.

Hehehe I knew it ;)

“What?” you whispered, unlocking your phone. You went straight to Marjorine’s text thread. Under your last response to her, a “kk!” from when she arrived at your house before the party, there was a longish thread of messages that clearly went between her and Kenny.

Where are you? I’ve been looking for you for an hour! Are you okay?

Hey, Marj. Thanks for giving me her passcode. My phone died right after I called you and I put her phone on the charger in my room. I can charge mine when she wakes up.

Is she okay? Omg.

Yeah, just going back between screaming, crying, and throwing up…literally. At least she started that once we’d already left or it would’ve been real bad.

Bless her heart! What’d you say to get her so upset?

It wasn’t me! Damn. She just got upset…about us…and then screamed at me that she loved me.

And you said?

Nothing. She was drunk.

Drunk words are sober thoughts. ;)

So, you think Cartman is sexy, huh?

Oh my goddddd stop. That isn’t true and this isn’t about me. What do you think of her?

I…might’ve realized I fucked up literally the night we had that fight…and I haven’t known what to do about it…so…I just…loved her in secret and accepted that she deserved better. I’m just worried she’s going to wake up and like…regret saying all of this and like trying to have this conversation with me again.

She’ll be okay.

Hehehe I knew it ;)

Your chest felt full and tight all at the same time and your eyes soon fell upon the sleeping blonde, who was still wrapped around you despite you sitting upright at this point. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair gently. A few passes through his blonde locks and he stirred, looking up at you.

“Morning, beautiful.” he spoke groggily, “You okay?”

You nodded, “Just tired…”

“Mm…come lay back down then. Let's go back to bed.”

It was your turn to smirk over at him, “You love me, huh?”

“What?”

You pulled up the texts again, showing him and then reading his own words to him verbatim, “So…I just…loved her in secret and accepted that she deserved better.”

“Hey, that’s a private conversation!” he laughed.

“On my phone…” You retorted.

“Yeah!”

“So, do you love me?” You moved back down to laying next to him, turned on your side, propped up on your elbow. He blushed, lips curving back up into his famous devious grin.

“Ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

“I think I've heard worse.”

With a giggle and a kiss to his lips, your relationship with Kenny transitioned just as the seasons outside had started to move from the bright colors of an otherwise dark summer for you to the warm, comforts of fall…all starting and ending in that beat-up pickup.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

#south park #south park x reader #kenny mccormic x yn #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x you #fanfiction #south park fanfiction #fanfic

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